- Rhys -

Cauldron have mercy on me.

Seriously, how was I supposed to keep this bunch alive? What had possessed me when I thought myself capable of keeping two Archeron sisters safe? And what had ridden me when I had imagined myself endowed with enough patience to not just kill a certain one of them myself?

Feyre had been easy enough to manage, on her own. Mostly because she knew Prythian well enough, by the time I got to handle her, to manage herself. But those sisters of hers? Some things surpassed even the power of Prythian's most powerful High Fae. Things like looking after Nesta and Elain Archeron. Both. At the same time. One thought it prudent to keep annoying the shit out of very – very! - dangerous Night Court individuals, and the other suddenly decided to take a surprise trip into enemy territory – how was I to counter such a blatant lack of self-preservation? The only consolation was that I would likely not have to face Feyre when she found out her sisters had gotten themselves killed under my watch, because the way this was going, I wouldn't survive long enough to bear witness.

They were something else, both of them. Elain had always made the impression of a quiet and gentle person to me. She'd certainly seemed reasonable, like someone who'd go out of her way not to get into anybody else's. Well… that had been before she'd been thrown into a magical vessel that took her human life and gave her immortality. I'd guess that would mess with anybody's peace of mind – add to that the creation of a mating bond seconds after being reborn into a body barely recognizable as one's own, and you got yourself a girl with the nervous energy to keep up with a hive of bees drunk on faery wine. Elain was alternating between fluttering about like a moth around a candle, and withdrawing into herself to the point of total stupor. The only constant was a worried frown, now permanently etched into her face, which I didn't remember from the few times I'd seen her at her house. And much to her nosy – excuse me: concerned sister's distress, she kept her troubles to herself. No amount of fuss bestowed upon her by Nesta could make her share her thoughts.

Nesta, though.

I lacked the words to describe her. In all of Prythian and beyond, I'd be willing to bet, there existed no other like her. Granted, she was unique for the fact that she was Made alone – but Nesta was even uniquer than Feyre, Elain and Myriam put together. She had insisted – and when Nesta insisted, she got her will – that she and Elain be relocated to Velaris from my house on the peak over the Court of Nightmares. Nesta had been prowling the house like a caged tigress, making me afraid of returning to nothing but a ruin every time I had to leave for Velaris, and Elain had repeatedly eyed the pane-less windows as though she was debating whether hurling herself through them would give her wings like mine, so I had thought it best, eventually, to give in to the request. Velaris was compromised already, anyway.

I had very soon come to regret it. In Velaris, Nesta had promptly proceeded to intimidate every single inhabitant of the town who had the misfortune of passing her by on a street, and, which was worse, I had been unable to keep her and Cassian apart, and they had clashed repeatedly and with unprecedented vigor.

Those fights were hard to bear. Not because of their volume. Nor because of the words they both dredged from the bottom of what was even halfway socially acceptable. But because those had been the only occasions I had heard Cassian speak at all.

I hadn't told him – hadn't even insinuated and never would, not in a hundred lifetimes – but I was scared for him, scared to an extent I had never been for my own life. His wings had healed well, considering the circumstances. Only well wasn't nearly enough. They would not carry his weight when he tried to fly. And he tried, and fell, and tried again, but there were weak patches in the fabric of his wings, and they tore the instant he put a strain on them. Cassian would never fly again.

It was all we could have hoped for that he hadn't joined Elain at the open windows over the Court of Nightmares.

Yet.

And now he had disappeared. Never saying a word, keeping his stubborn silence to the last, he'd crept from town, disappearing without a trace, not saying where he was going or whether he would come back, not making arrangements for the army he was supposed to be leading, he just up and left. And I couldn't shake the feeling that Nesta knew something about it. She kept a silence just as stubborn as his, admitting nothing, denying nothing.

I didn't know whether he'd gone to finally end his life, or just couldn't endure our company anymore, and I didn't know whether Nesta had driven him away with her constant stabs, or whether she was simply in on something I wasn't.

But it was Feyre's absence, more than anything else, that set my mind and heart on edge. I'd lived with a heart of stone for fifty years, and it had been easier than going without the half of my heart she now seemed to have taken with her. It was embarrassing, really; for someone who'd dealt just fine on his own for centuries, to suddenly miss a female he had known for such an insignificant proportion of his life. I should be able to get on just fine without her, but instead I felt the distance between us as a physical weight on my limbs. I was aware of where her body wasn't lying next to me when I lay in bed; I was aware of things that weren't being said, because she wasn't here to say them; I anticipated her reaction to things, only to remember that I couldn't let her know. The thoughts I couldn't share with her slowly burned a hole into my sanity. The loss of the bargain bond was still hurting sometimes; I'd barely had to feign pain at the King of Hybern's severing our bond. The normal ties of a mating bond weren't as intrusive as our unusual mental link had been; normally, feelings might be conveyed in a hazier fashion, but not defined thoughts and words. I knew she was alive; I didn't know how she was doing, back in her beautiful Spring Court prison.

Truth be told, feeling the difference between an enhanced and a normal mating bond made me wonder as to the strength of Elain and Lucien's mental ties. I frequently saw Elain wince out of the blue when we sat at dinner, or stop and stiffen during her aimless journeys around the house. She never said what caused her reactions, in spite of Nesta's relentless pestering, so I couldn't be sure – but it left me with the nagging suspicion that Elain felt things coming from Lucien with a greater intensity than I did from Feyre. I tried to shove away any jealousy, telling myself that a live connection into Lucien's mind was definitely not something to be envied. A great part of her agitation might be because she didn't know how to deal with what she received.

Had my full powers been at my disposal, I could easily have sent Feyre messages. I could whisk a piece of paper from here to the Spring Court as easily as I used to send it from my bedroom to hers. But my powers were tied up, keeping an ancient magical object in check, subduing another power so strong and otherworldly that at times, it staggered me on the spot. Initially, Amren had offered to shoulder the burden. But the instant her considerable power extended and touched the singular awareness of the book, she withdrew. It made her wary, this object with a thinking mind. It shared secrets known only to her and whatever world she'd come from, and it made her fear that she might too easily succumb to the book's calling – as Feyre had done when she'd united the two halves.

But the book needed to be contained. If left unchecked, it took possession of the minds of any Fae who happened to be in close proximity. We hadn't found out what the book wanted these victims to do for it; we hadn't let it come that far.

Now the drain on my powers had almost proven fatal when Elain's first attempt at winnowing had abruptly and rather surprisingly landed us in the middle of Spring Court territory.

It was the result of another one of Nesta's requests that I had granted, more willingly at that: the instant she'd seen Elain to bed the night they'd become Fae, Nesta had asked for training. While she'd eschewed physical training – Nesta's weapon was her mind, without doubt, and it was a sharp one – she'd since exercised her magical powers rigorously. Elain had only joined intermittently, sometimes preferring to watch, sometimes to keep to herself and brood. But while Nesta was still struggling to move even an inch through space, Elain had gripped our hands – Nesta, of course, absolutely forbidding her first attempt at winnowing without being firmly attached to her – and a brief spell of darkness had spit us out in a blooming flower meadow.

With my magic tied up with the book that travelled with me wherever I went, I would have had no way to shield the sisters from Tamlin. Throwing a glamor over them proved almost too much for what little remained of my powers.

I owed the red-haired puppy.

I had barely caught my breath after Lucien had winnowed away, when Nesta gave me a fierce shove that actually managed to make me stumble backwards.

"What was that?" Nesta hissed venomously. If she could shapeshift, I mused, she would definitely become a snake.

"What was what?" I had no patience for her accusations.

"You were supposed to keep us safe while practicing winnowing. That means preventing something like this to happen!"

"Nesta," Elain said, ineffectually.

"I have no idea how it happened. Contrary to popular belief, I cannot stop every bad thing from happening."

"Take us back," she commanded in reply.

I sighed. Tiredess was almost constantly weighing down on my bones, but I gripped their shoulders, and made the fairly big leap back to the Night Court. No idea how Elain managed that big a jump in her first try. Maybe my desire to be with Feyre had involuntarily led me to add to her powers, and direct her to where I knew I would find my mate.

We appeared in the foyer of my Velaris home, where the sisters stayed as guests – though I wasn't sure Nesta knew what being a guest entailed; the astounding lack of politeness she demonstrated suggested that no one else had ever been careless enough to invite her to their house.

Nesta instantly started to fuss over her sister. I was the only one the worse for wear from our encounter, but far be it from her to fuss over me.

"I am not hurt, Nesta," Elain snapped. "No one touched me. Leave me be."

On second thought, maybe I wasn't the only one feeling threadbare – coming face to face with Lucien must have shaken her, after all. As I studied her face for signs of trouble, I could practically see her shutting herself away – a crease of anger faded, to be replaced by slight unease, and back was her mask of recluse.

I certainly hoped the mating bond didn't make her adopt Lucien's way of coping with pressure – I wasn't sure his method worked all that well for him.

Nesta straightened. She removed her hands from Elain's shoulders, with the air of someone who'd just been mortally offended. Then, wordlessly, she turned and strode up the stairs, toward the room she shared with Elain.

Silence hung over Elain and me in Nesta's wake.

"I'm sorry," Elain said quietly. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I know," I said.

She looked through the glass doors, towards the street. Hazy figures could be seen waking on the sidewalk. I wondered whether she would have preferred to leave. And where she would have gone if she could. She stayed for Nesta's sake as much as Nesta stayed for hers. I had slowly come to realize that while Nesta was the more outspoken of the two, Elain was the one who kept them both sane during their transition to Fae. It was only with time that she'd begun slipping away.

"I don't understand it," she suddenly said in a strangled whisper.

"What?"

"Him."

She shook her head slowly, the motion seeming unconnected to her words. "Who's to be trusted… who is our enemy."

I hesitated. "I don't think Lucien is our enemy."

If I had anything more significant to say about Lucien, I would, but although I knew him better than she did, that wasn't saying much. I couldn't read much into his behavior in my presence; when I pretended to be the ultimate asshole, I had to expect to meet people's asshole sides. He wasn't an idiot of Tamlin's proportions; actually, he hadn't really done anything that marked him as anything special, neither good nor bad. What little I knew about him was that he'd defied his family, which I interpreted in his favor because they were epic jerks, and he'd suffered for it. And that he'd watched Feyre waste away without helping her, that he'd allowed Tamlin to mistreat her and make her suffer and done nothing to stop it. And that was it. Well, that, and the fact that he'd once accepted lashes for one shout of assistance to Feyre… maybe he was leaning somewhat more to the favorable side.

"Especially not yours," I decided to add. "I don't have all that much to say about him, but he'd do anything to keep you safe. He doesn't need to know you in order to do that."

Something shifted in Elain's face; she suddenly seemed to be fighting hard to stop tears from coming.

"I don't know what to do with the things that I… that I feel… from him."

Now that was both slightly alarming, and quite a bit painful. I had been in Lucien's mind before, and I wouldn't wish that upon her, but I hadn't worried because not in my wildest jealous dreams had I expected her to feel enough of it to get her down. I quickly swallowed my surprise.

"I'm not sure I can help you with that," I told her, gently. "Only you and he can feel it, and the strength and permeability of each bond is different." And there could be nothing stronger than the bond between Feyre and me, no matter the distance.

She swallowed. A single tear travelled down her cheek. "He's –"

Desperately unhappy, profoundly hopeless and probably marginally suicidal? One of the most depressing minds I had ever encountered in five centuries?

"He – " Elain tried again.

"Yes, he's not exactly the happiest Fae alive," I said dryly. "Neither was Feyre, when our bond was new. And I think I can pride myself in being a factor in helping her get back to her feet. Perhaps you can do the same."

"How can I, when I'm so far away from him?" she said bitterly.

I hid a smile. That was a parallel to Feyre and me, too. "Patience. That time will come."

Suddenly, tears rolled down her cheeks as if a flood she'd kept back had come and overrun her. "If time makes me feel like that, why would I want it?"

"I… What do you mean?"

There had almost a sting of reproach in her voice – and so much resentfulness, bitterness. Elain still cried soundlessly, but desperately, and then she turned and followed Nesta up the stairs without another word.

"Elain!"

She stopped. I fumbled. I just hadn't wanted to let her leave like this.

"Feyre's in the Spring Court, too. They're in this together, and already plotting revolution together. For what it's worth – for my part, I'm glad Feyre isn't alone. That she has him, at least."

It was no lie. I had hoped he'd be a support all through Feyre's dark days after Under The Mountain. He hadn't been, then, but he was starting to be one now.

She cast me a thoughtful glance, nodded noncommittally, wiped at her tears, and finally glided upstairs.

I sighed. A training session that I'd meant to last an hour at most had almost taken all night. I had a war to prepare and no time to waste. So with my clothes still in tatters, curtesy of Tamlin's claws, I flew to the House of Wind instead of winnowing. I had never wanted to ration my magic ever again, after Amarantha, but here I was. It couldn't be helped.

I alighted on the ground floor to be met with the picture of Azriel and Mor frantically trying to get Amren's ear, who had closed her eyes and stood in the middle of their general din, unmoved by their pleas. Az and Mor snapped up at my arrival – Amren merely took a peek at me and closed her eyes again.

"There you are!" Mor cried. "Where were you? What did you do?" Then: "How did you get into such a state?"

"I was training with Nesta and Elain," I simply said.

Az raised an eyebrow. "I take it the fierce one abducted her sister and you spent all day chasing and rescuing them?"

"That's about it. Only you got the sister wrong."

"Elain?" Mor's eyes became impossibly wide. "Elain tried to make a run for it?"

"She didn't do it on purpose," I sighed. "But she did get to witness a rather enthusiastic fist-fight between Tamlin and me. Until it was his bedtime and we had to leave." I didn't usually let a chance to tease Mor go by, but I took pity and added a few explanatory words. "I got to reply to Feyre's message," I finished more nonchalantly than I felt. "So that's that taken care of. What's the progress on the ally front?"

"Nothing whatsoever," Az replied darkly. "The Summer Court is still rejecting all pleas to negotiate."

I groaned. We had set things into motion the moment we'd learned about Hybern's plans. With Cassian incapacitated, command over the armies had temporarily been shared between Azriel and me. We'd had the first battalions ready to go in a matter of weeks, and the vast majority of the Night Court forces were on the way to the wall to intercept Hybern, but the Night Court was situated at the northern tip of Prythian, and the Spring Court at the southernmost end. Even with the use of ships for the transport of our troops, we invariably had to cross more courts than Night and Spring if we wanted to meet Hybern in battle. It had to be on land; we were bound to lose a naval battle. Erasing Velaris from the map had put an end to much of our seafaring, and our ships were old and out of repair. That meant that we had to go the other way around Prythian, take a different route than Hybern and be fast enough to engage the other army before irreparable damage to the wall was done.

We'd made good progress, and with what Lucien had told me, the time aspect of our endeavor looked considerably more hopeful than I had ever let myself think. But one thing still stood in our way, and I did not like the alternative that seemed to be our only choice: in order to reach the Spring Court, we would have to cross part of the Summer Court territory. And Tarquin, the High Lord of Summer, refused to hear our pleas, returned any letters, and prohibited any messengers we sent from conveying their case. My army was on its way to war, and I did not know whether it would ever reach its destination.

Az and Mor still stood before me, watching me. They looked as tired as I felt. Waging a war was tiring business. Az would have to winnow back to the army tonight. Mor would try to come up with a few more creative ways to get Tarquin's attention. And I was useless – incapacitated because I was babysitting a book.

"At least we have news from Feyre," I repeated. Just to have something to brighten up their faces.

"Yes," Mor agreed, albeit entirely devoid of joy . "At least we know that one of our number is still alive."

The same could not be said about Cassian. To say that she had taken his disappearance hard would be an understatement.

"If Feyre and the Autumn Court dreg are that active, it's even more essential to have a way to communicate," Mor remarked.

"I know," I said wearily. "If I knew of a way to do that, I would have done it by now."

Suddenly, Mor perked up. A dangerous twinkle crept into her eyes – one I had seen on a few quite remarkable occasions. "I know of a way," she breathed. "It might be a bit extreme, but under the circumstances…"The smile that now lit up her face was even more dangerous. "Come to think of it, I might have a rather unconventional way to get Tarquin to listen, too…"

Well, I did it – I arbitrarily changed POVs so I could include things I couldn't otherwise narrate. I couldn't resist! This chapter took a long while, I'm finding writing Rhys quite a bit tricky. I still think he lacks a bit of his fire and his kind of smooth abrasiveness, but let's put it down to the wear and tear of book-sitting :) I'd love for you to tell me if you found anything out of character for him!

Thanks again to my very thoughtful and perceptive reviewers! I did go back and made sure that this chapter explained the reason why Amren isn't guarding the book :)