Feyre

I sat alone in my painting room thinking about how to get the information to Rhys. Our bond was still healing, but it seemed we could now send vague images down the line. At least, he seemed to be receiving more than I was. I had no access to the enchanted paper, but….

The thought hit me as I glanced around the painting room. Of course. Who needs enchanted paper when you have paint? I pulled out a couple of blank canvases and got started.

Using chrome yellow and varying shades of red, I painted two Suns on the first canvas. The first was red-gold for Dawn Court, reminiscent of the ruby-red robes Eos had worn today. The second sun I painted high in the sky (Day Court). Instead of a clear blue sky, I painted the night sky. Swaths of violet and indigo blue paint streaked through the dark sky, the soothing darkness of a calm Summer night. The glowing suns seemed to light up in the dark. Hopefully signifying them as potential allies to Rhys.

The next canvas was difficult with the strong feeling of betrayal still cutting through me. Remembering Kallias' icy crown, I painted a metallic black crown (Hybern) coated in fire (Autumn) with spikes of ice (Winter) coating the sharp tips.

Satisfied with the messages I'd painted, I focused on sending each image to Rhysand as strongly as I could. In my mind, I sent him each slather of paint; first indigoes, goldenrods, and violets; then, the slick black, burning reds, and pale cold blues.

When I was sure he had received each image and corresponding message, I sighed with relief. Then, I felt his laughter filling me. Prick. I was doing the best I could.

Carefully, I burned each painting before they could be discovered by anyone. I stood from my bench, stretching my arms and rolling out my shoulders. I hadn't been painting long, but I'd been up for hours and I felt quite drained. I longed for the days when speaking to Rhys through the bond had been as easy as breathing.

It had been a very long day. Yawning, I stretched out on the bench and passed out.

I sagged onto the cold stone floor of Hybern's castle. I could feel the bite of the manacles cutting into my skin, but I had no more fight left in me.

Before me, stood two large creatures. They were covered in spines that oozed rusted red liquid as they spoke in a skittering language. Their black spiderlike limbs scratched me as they poked and prodded me.

I saw his shadow before the creatures parted to let him through. The King of Hybern.

"Cursebreaker," he scoffed. I felt two sets of seven glittering eyes on me; the horrifying creatures waiting ravenously as the King drew near.

I had no spark, no retorts left. Silence rang a constant throbbing beat throughout the hall, even as the creatures' hunger became near palpable.

"If you had only listened. Look at what your disobedience has wrought, dear Feyre." I turned to look against my will, knowing what—knowing who—I would see.

Beside me lay the bones of my friends, my family,…Rhysand. Across the floor were the tattered bits of luminescent wings.

I couldn't help the sob that escaped and the creatures shifted, their grins morphing into mouths of jagged teeth, saliva dripping in anticipation.

"You, I will allow to live a thousand years. And everyday you will face the corpses of your friends knowing you failed them."

I was screaming.

Someone was shaking me out of my nightmare and I was momentarily disoriented, forgetting where I was. I reached with my arms, looking for the only one who had soothed me not long ago.

I felt his arms curl around me, pulling me to his chest to comfort me.

In my distraught state, I didn't think before I said, sobbing, "Oh, Rhys."

Tamlin roared, dropping me to the floor. I hit the icy floor hard, the fall snapping me out of my dreamy state.

And I tensed, waiting for the blow that would come next.

Tamlin's eyes narrowed at that flinch and I saw the shift in his anger pulling him into blinding rage. Numb as I was, I could only stare as he ripped apart canvas after canvas, flung my paints across the room where they shattered against the walls. The madness too familiar as the red paint pooled across the floor.

I shook with the desire to strike at him, knowing I could shred him to pieces as he so easily destroyed what had once been my sanctuary. But not yet, not yet. Angry tears spilled from my eyes, as much from the awful nightmare as with my desire for retribution. I left him to his madness and left the manor.

I had reached the edge of the garden when I noticed the absence of sound. I was near enough to the dark forest where the sounds of animal life should have been apparent. Yet no owls hooted, no tiny animals skittered; even the wind had quieted. I knew, as I turned, what I would find behind me.

The Suriel.

It stood at full height in the shadows of the tree line. Even in the full darkness of a night with no moon, I could make out the spiny figure waiting. No one else had noticed the hulking mass, a bony hand waving a motion to follow. I hadn't summoned the Suriel. Did the same ancient rules apply if the tables were turned?

Unsure, but unwilling to pass up the opportunity, I followed the Suriel further into the forest. The trees growing more gnarled as I trailed the shadowy figure, the night muting as we went. Minutes passed before it finally paused and turned to face me, its skeletal head creaking as it tilted to assess me.

I caught my breath as I waited for it to speak, stopping with less than a few paces between us.

"Hello, Feyre."

"What do you want? I didn't summon you."

A shadowy grin flitted across its face. "I'm not here under summons, though I've wondered if you would call again. You are a most curious creature, Feyre. I'm here because the world is shifting. I'm here to warn you, though I must admit that it's as much for my gain as yours, High Lady."

If the Suriel were here of his own accord, there had to be a good reason. I didn't think the Suriel gave out free information. This had to be important, then, something that would affect both our fates. And he'd called me High Lady, but was that in honor or as an insult? I brushed it off, "Warn me?"

"This world is but one song that begun with a single note. It has rippled and changed throughout my existence. I have felt, at times, a thread pulling like the string of a guitar. And I have, time and again, seen the aftermath when those strings snapped by callous players; the ripple that twangs throughout the world, our realm. I have never felt a string that hums quite like yours, however. Curious.

"I can feel your futures as they vibrate in three directions. I am here to give you a gift, should you accept. Tell me, Feyre, would you like to see these futures?"

A glimpse of my future? "I don't have a cloak for you—"

"—no matter. As I said earlier, I am here as much for you as I am for myself. For the paths in which you stand will lead to either salvation or destruction of this world."

I gaped.

"Would you like to see them?"

I could almost hear Rhysand pleading against this, his desperation clanged through the bond. But I couldn't walk away from this. If there were a chance I could use this information against Hybern…

I nodded.

The Suriel drew closer and I tried not to inch away.

"No questions today," it warned. "There are three paths wavering ahead of you. The first would see you reunited with your beloved Night Court. You live in peace for a time, before Hybern arrives to consume you. Leave the Spring Court now and the King acquires the Book of Breathings. He will destroy your court and this world will end."

I stared, eyes wide and horrified. The first path sounded a lot like the nightmares I'd been having lately.

"The second," it said. "is best if you see for yourself." The Suriel's sharp teeth flashed again, was that a grin? I shivered.

"How?"

"Gaze into my mind with your daemati abilities."

This was what I'd agreed to. I was sure I could walk away from the Suriel and it would not stop me. But Rhysand had trained me himself and I had polished that particular ability for months now. I almost smiled, feeling Rhys groan at my poor decision making skills.

Closing my eyes, I left a sliver open, examining its strength before crossing into the Suriel's mind. Before I could examine the strange ancient walls, I felt the walls blur away.

I was in a palace high above the mountains, overlooking the sea. The Court of Dreams, I thought delightedly. I sat in a soft, cream colored armchair that had been pulled next to the railing. The wind was cool on my face, though not unpleasant. I leaned into the soothing touch of night air.

I chuckled as I felt two soft kicks from inside my womb. A rush of excitement pulsed through me and I placed a hand over my bump. I was pregnant, only a few months along.

I felt him behind me then and his arms reached to wrap around me. I leaned into his warmth, overwhelmed with happiness.

"You were right, Feyre, this place is beautiful."

But. I recoiled at his voice, whirling to see his face in the wrongness of it. Behind me was Tamlin, not Rhysand.

That's when I noticed the heavy manacles clasped around my wrists, the tight collar that sliced against my throat. And I felt true horror as I saw the King of Hybern seated on a throne behind us. Rhysand's throne.

There was a struggle as my friends: Cassian, Azriel, and Mor were brought out into the room by Jurien. The wind now swirled icily around us. My friends had been broken, tied together by a wicked set of rusting chains. Their skin was marred, bearing both new and old wounds. How long had they been tortured for? Where was Rhysand? Where was Amren? My sisters?

Wielding the Book of Breathings, the King looked at me and said, "Begin."

I was powerless to stop my own hands as they rose up. Tamlin's eyes were glazed over as though he could not see me. I felt the magic ripple out of me, nauseatingly against my will, but I did not struggle in this future. My friends screamed as my magic whipped and tore at them. The King laughed and finally released me from his compulsion.

Once again, I felt Tamlin's arms encase me. Tamlin smiled and caressed my bump carrying his child.

"Oh, fuck!" the only words I could choke out before I vomited on the ground.

The Suriel shifted its head again, waiting as I collected myself. It hadn't happened. Yet. It wasn't real. Yet.

I swiped at my mouth, wishing I could erase the vile taste in my mouth. "You said there were three paths. What is the third?"

He clicked his tongue. "Ah, yes. The third is the haziest and thinnest thread of all. Though the first two paths end in darkness, the third ends in light. That one I cannot show you, for it shifts often enough to be dangerous for a visit."

I sagged against the base of a tree, still sick at the vision the Suriel had shown me.

"High Lady," it continued. "Though your emotions are delightful to feast upon, we do not have much time. So I will leave you with this: You must obtain the Book before the King can get his hands on it. Play the strings carefully and they will not snap. This is your task. Should you fail…"

"I don't want to see the first future do I?"

"No, High Lady, that is not a future even I want to see come to pass."

I turned as a branch snapped behind us and when I turned to the Suriel, it was gone. I gazed into the smoky blackness, but couldn't see anyone. It was still so dark, whoever was there likely hadn't seen me as well.

I piled the nighttime shadows over me, blending into the night and slowly made my way back to the manor. I never did see anyone else.