I struggled instinctively and found that my body was my own again. I kicked and shoved, choking, my lungs desperately craving the air that was no longer there. Something struck me hard in the chest—no, grabbed me, hauling me out of the water and tossing me onto the rocks where I clung, spluttering and sucking in lungfuls of beautiful, cold air.

I was back in the Tail's grotto, though the Tail herself was nowhere to be seen. Water was rushing in from somewhere, lapping at the slick walls as it crept up them slowly but steadily. The whirlpool in the center was easing, leaving only a knee-deep pool that rippled with the natural waves. I knew it was knee deep, because someone was standing in it, his siphons casting an eerie red sheen of the wet surfaces.

"Cassian," I gasped, and was startled by the sound of my own voice. I stared at my hands, so long and slender and alien once again. I was back. I was back and it was over.

"What are you doing?" Cassian snarled at me, practically shouting to be heard over the roaring water. He stalked over to me, flicking droplets off his wings as he went. "We have to get out of here."

"Where's Rhys?" I croaked.

Cassian was scanning the walls around us as if looking for an escape. "Whatever Cauldron-cursed magic guards this place wouldn't let him in. But it let me in." He gave me a crooked grin and I knew that when this was all over Rhys would never hear the end of how he had to let Cassian rescue his mate and High Lady.

Azriel rippled into being next to us. "And me," the shadowsinger said with a wry smile.

The water surged suddenly, almost knocking us all down as it swirled to waist level. And it was cold.

"Out," I gasped, shivering. "The tunnel's blocked by now. The only way out is there." I pointed up, high, high at the top of the cave where the narrow sliver of sky was visible. I tried to summon my wings and staggered.

Cassian swore and shoved me toward Azriel. "Take her," he grunted. "I'll make my own way out." He was already eyeing the slick walls for possible handholds.

Azriel waited only long enough to see Cassian leap high up the wall with a powerful beat of his wings, keeping them extended and flapping them for balance and extra bursts of lift as he quickly scaled the wall. Then he gripped my arm, gently but firmly, and we disappeared into blackness.

We reappeared on the top of a cliff and Azriel steadied me—traveling with a shadowsinger was not like the usual winnowing.

Rhys knelt at a crevice near the edge of the cliff, looking down into the dark pit. After a moment, he reached a hand down and hauled Cassian out. His brother had barely cleared the ledge before Rhys was turning toward me.

With a strangled cry, I threw myself at him. My faerie strength felt alien to me, as it had when I was first Made, and he grunted softly as I crashed into him. I felt dizzy with relief. He was here. Cassian and Azriel were here. I hadn't ruined anything. It had worked.

Rhys pulled back to look at me, brushing tendrils of wet hair out of my face. "Feyre, what happened? You were there, and then you weren't." I knew what he meant, that sickening feeling of having the bond suddenly smothered. "And then you were back." His eyes searched mine.

I placed a hand over his heart, feeling the steady beat. Take me home, was all I said.

To his credit, he didn't question me further, though I knew that would come later. He just swept me into his arms and, with a nod to his brothers, leapt into the air with one great sweep of his wings. I was asleep before we made it home.

When I woke, it was to a scene eerily similar to my last waking. I was in bed, my bed—our bed. Rhys was sprawled beside me, watching me through heavy-lidded eyes. I inhaled, and familiar scents almost overpowered me. Home. I was definitely home.

That didn't stop me from checking my right arm and hugging it to my chest in relief as I beheld the familiar tattoos.

I suppose you want an explanation now, I told Rhys silently. But first I should really—

"Madja was here yesterday," Rhys said smoothly. I froze, and he gave me a small smile. "It didn't take Azriel long to track down stories of that place—of the Old Wives' Tail and what it meant." I studied his face, reached to him through our bond, but he had locked himself tightly away from me, as he rarely had before.

When the silence stretched, I nudged at his walls. And did it work?

His expression didn't change, but he let me in, and I was blown away by the intensity of the emotion that he was struggling to control. Fear, when he couldn't reach me through the Tail's ancient magic. Despair, when the bond went dark. Helplessness, when Cassian and Azriel could enter that cave when he could not. Relief, when he saw me on top of the cliff and the bond snapped back into place as if it had never been gone. Worry, when I immediately collapsed and slept for two days—two days?

And hidden deep behind it all, as if it was a secret so precious and fragile that acknowledging it might destroy it—a cautious, incredulous jubilation.

I felt boneless, giddy with relief and almost dizzy. It worked. Even my mental voice was full of awe. I can't believe it worked. My hands slid down to cradle my abdomen.

Rhys laid his hand over mine, stars flickering in his eyes, but still he held himself back. What worked? I had to stop Azriel from torturing half of Velaris to find out what exactly a visit to that cave entails. Enlighten me.

I took a steadying breath and tried to figure out how to begin.

Rhys spoke again before I could marshall my thoughts. "I would also love to know why you're not speaking to me, Feyre darling. At least, not out loud."

I blinked, then gave him a shaky grin. "Not used to having a voice again," I croaked, and then winced. Even though it had only been two days since this body had spoken, it still felt like it had been months since I'd formed real words.

Rhys froze, his gaze going slightly out of focus. His lips parted and through his grip on me I could feel his pulse begin to race. "Rhys?" His eyes darted as if he was experiencing a waking dream. I gripped his hand more tightly in mine, giving him a little shake, and he blinked rapidly, focusing on me again with eyes blown wide.

"I—remember that. Under the Mountain. I remember that you couldn't speak. But—I also remember—I remember it two ways." He was breathing in shallow pants, reeling in shock. "Feyre, what have you done?"

I pulled myself into a seated position so I could take his face in my hands. "It's fine, Rhys. Everything is fine. Under the Mountain was a long time ago. I'm here. I'm safe. We're all safe." My fingers stroked his jaw as he struggled to regain control of himself, to understand.

I kept talking, telling him of my hunt for fertility magic, how it had led me to the Tail, what she had told me about our inability to have children. When I got to the part about the bargain I had struck, his expression darkened and his gaze dropped to the new tattoo stretched across my collarbone, but he didn't interrupt my story. And then when I told him about the magic's price, his eyes went distant again.

"That—explains a lot." He shook his head ruefully. "Not that I knew I even had questions until just now." He pulled me into his arms, fingers dancing a pattern down my spine. "So that's why you asked me to—that last night. You weren't just being fatalistic when you said you were going to die. And that's how you knew the so-called curse would break at that moment."

"It was still a guess," I confessed. "If the magic told me not to change anything, I couldn't believe it would make things change, not in that moment when it really mattered."

"That was one of the most horrible things I've ever done," he murmured into my hair. "Reaching inside your mind and finding—nothing. Forcing that empty shell to sit up, to inhale, to speak." He shuddered against me and I wrapped my arms around him.

"But it worked?" I felt a flicker of confusion from him. "I was gone the moment I died. That was the bargain. I was able to cling to the bond just long enough, just while that gray area between life and death existed, to see what you did, but that was it."

Rhys thought for a few minutes. "After that, I only have one set of memories. It seems you held up your side of the bargain well, because nothing really changed after that." He paused. "Although, if Tamlin ever thinks back to that time, he's in for a real shock. Or anyone else who was in Amarantha's court for that matter, though I doubt most of them, even the other High Lords, dwell on it unless they have a reason to."

"And it worked," I whispered. He tensed against me, knowing that this time I was not referring to anything to do with Amarantha. I felt it when a familiar image of a little boy kindled in his thoughts.

"It worked," he whispered back, lifting his head to look at me. His masks began to fall away until he was bare before me. Fear and disbelief were fading, and joy was beginning to fill his eyes. "Father," he said hesitantly, tasting the word. Then, a bit louder, "I'm going to be a father."

Tears pricked my eyes. "Yes," I choked out. "And you're going to be amazing at it."

His eyes were full of stars as he kissed me, passionately, exuberantly, and I could feel his smile against my lips as I eagerly returned it.

In a general sense, everything went smoothly and peacefully after that.

I only experienced a light bout of morning sickness, and Madja brought me a special tea that helped. I ate so much that I was sure I must be having three or four babies instead of one.

Mor threw me a party when she found out. Cassian wrecked it by drinking my portion of the wine on top of his. She left him to clean up the mess he'd made and dragged me out shopping for baby clothes. My sisters joined us—even Nesta, who'd never shown any interest in children, and we had a fully stocked nursery long before I was too large to do nothing more than waddle around the house.

I pestered Cassian enough about training that at last he threw up his hands and went to the healer to find out what kind of exercises would be beneficial instead of harmful for a pregnant female. Some of her suggestions were embarrassing, for both of us, but by that point he was determined to help.

I caught Amren watching me thoughtfully more than once over those nine months. Considering how disgusted she'd been by most natural bodily processes, I couldn't imagine that she would ever be interested in having children. And yet—it was definitely not disgust on her face. Even Rhys noticed it, but he just waggled his eyebrows at me and shrugged.

Azriel turned out to be an unexpected angel. He was always just—there. Whenever Rhys was not at my side, I barely had to think of something I might need and suddenly Azriel was there with it. After a few months, I realized he and Rhys had worked out a system where Rhys was always listening for me and passing instructions to the shadowsinger, who had made it his personal mission to make sure his High Lord and Lady's child was the safest in all of Prythian.

And after nine long months of pampering and careful preparations, when my water finally broke, complete and utter chaos erupted around me.

Elain ran to the kitchen for hot water and clean cloths while Cassian disappeared to fetch Madja. Mor and Nesta helped me up the stairs to our bedroom because Rhys—Rhys had frozen. I caught a glimpse of him staring, poleaxed, at that wet spot on the floor where I had been standing and Azriel stalking toward him before I was whisked away. Rhys?

I was quickly ensconced in bed, my sisters flitting around me, and then the first contraction hit. I whimpered. Rhys?

Mor was at my side, gripping my hand. "Remember your breathing. Cassian will be pissed if he did all that practicing with you for nothing." We shared a grin at the memory of Cassian walking me through the birthing exercises, as seriously and intensely as if it was part of our usual training repertoire. Another shudder ran through me and I groaned.

Rhys if you don't get your Illyrian arse up here so help me—

The bedroom door swung open but, to everyone's relief except mine, it was Madja, not Rhys, who came through it. She stepped immediately to the place at the foot of the bed that Elain had prepared for her, and it was only when I saw my sister's wan face that I realized she had been steeling herself to step in if the healer hadn't arrived in time. I reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze of appreciation.

Another contraction hit me and I ground my teeth to keep from crying out. Madja peered up at me. "Scream if you must, High Lady. It's expected, during these things. And you might truly injure yourself by resisting." She patted my knee reassuringly. "You're doing your breathing? Good. You're progressing nicely, but it's too soon to tell much yet. This could still be a very long night."

The door banged open again and Rhys blew through it. He was at my side almost faster than I could see, one hand gripping mine while the other brushed back my hair soothingly. There was a fading red mark on his face. He smiled at me sheepishly.

I stared at him, aghast. "Please tell me Azriel didn't literally have to knock some sense into you to get you to come up here?"

Laughter that quickly turned into coughing echoed around the room and Madja looked up, noting Azriel and Cassian outside the open door and visibly counting how many people were crowding around me. "Everyone out," she barked, in one of the sharpest tones I'd ever heard from her. "You can stay," she nodded at Rhys, who relaxed from the defensive stance he'd snapped into. "As long as the High Lady wishes it," she added.

"Yes," I gasped around the quaking of my body. I had a crushing grip on Rhys's hand, but he clung to me no less tightly.

He turned concerned eyes to me, fingers brushing my forehead. "I could take your pain," he murmured.

"Don't you dare," I growled at him. The thought of floating through childbirth in a numb haze, watching my body heave and convulse as if it belonged to a different person—no, this was my child and I wanted to be completely present as he came into the world. Unable to put all of that into words, especially as the need to breathe properly became more and more urgent, I opened my mind to Rhys, sharing with him and feeling his understanding.

And then—he lingered. He wasn't just at my side physically, gripping my hand and soothing me in between contractions. His soul was wrapped around mine, riding each wave of agony with me, showering me in love and reassurance. You might be the first male … ever to experience childbirth, I teased him as I panted. Sweat beaded both of our faces.

Please don't ever say that out loud. No one would ever let me live it down. He rolled his eyes, but I could sense that beyond his bravado he was treasuring the chance to be as connected to the birth of our son as I was.

For a while we were lost in the cycle of pain and deep breaths and clinging to each other.

At last, Madja made a pleased, soothing sound. "You're doing very well indeed, High Lady. Not much longer now."

The sound that came out of me then was barely human—a low, groaning wail that would have been haunting if it wasn't for the sweet sound that followed it seconds later. The sound of a baby's first cry.

I struggled to push myself up onto my elbows, craning my neck to see. At my side, Rhys had gone completely still, eyes fixed on Madja as she cleaned and swaddled the infant. It wasn't until she carefully placed the tiny bundle in my outstretched arms that I finally got my first real look at my son. Our son.

He had a shock of fine, black hair and eyes that were the deepest blue I'd ever seen.

"Look, Rhys," I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away. "We did it."

Beside me, I heard him exhale slowly, lifting one hand to cup the back of the infant's head with infinite tenderness. His other arm came around my shoulders and I leaned into him, exhausted but feeling more complete than I ever had.

Madja bustled quietly around the room, tidying up before she let herself out to spread the good news to our friends. Even their explosive cheers of joy barely disturbed me. I didn't even remember falling asleep, only floating off into a golden haze.

One week later, I woke late in the night.

At first I wasn't sure what had awakened me. I slipped into the nursery to find Rhys sprawled in the rocking chair, our son cradled in his arms, both of them sound asleep. I leaned against the doorframe and watched them silently for long moments, memorizing the scene and hoping that I could capture it with paint in the future.

No one else was in the house—as much as our family wanted to help, they were also smart enough to head to their own homes each night where they knew at least they could sleep through the night.

I was rummaging through the kitchen when I felt a burning across my collarbone. I almost banged my head on the cabinet as I jerked myself out of it, realizing suddenly what I needed to do.

I still had a bargain to fulfill.

I found the package exactly where Madja had promised she would leave it, wrapped and sealed in layers of magic to protect it. I didn't bother to change out of my nightclothes, only wrapped my robe more tightly around myself as I snatched up the package and winnowed to that familiar cliff where Rhys had found me nine months ago.

I peered down into the dark cervice, pitch black and unfathomable in the night. I wondered again if blood was the price that Tail always demanded, and if so what kind of power it gave her and what she intended to do with it. I worried what she might do with my blood specifically and the unique power that dwelled within it.

But that was a problem for another time.

I held the package out, stripping off the layers of magic and letting it fall into the depths.

"Blood of the womb," I intoned. "My debt is repaid."

The spiraling waves tattooed on my collarbone flared with green light, then burned away into nothing. I touched my skin but it was unmarred, the sensation already fading into a faint tingling.

"You didn't have to come alone."

I whirled. Rhys stood a short distance away, still carrying our son securely in his arms, his hair disheveled and his clothing rumpled as if he had woken up and immediately sought me out without any other thought.

I knew he didn't just mean tonight.

"I—I knew you would stop me. I knew it was a big risk."

"An extraordinary risk," he drawled.

"But I wanted this! I wanted your children, our children. And I knew, somehow I knew it would take more than just patience." I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself.

Rhys's free arm snaked out, pulling me against his firm warmth as his wings curled around me, encasing our little family in a leathery cocoon. As I stared up at him, his jaw was clenched tightly but there was nothing in his eyes but love.

"You're right," he admitted with a sigh. "I would absolutely have stopped you." I frowned at his chest, unable to meet his eyes, and he kissed my forehead. "But I wouldn't trade this for the world. And I have to wonder—" He hesitated.

I glanced up at him. "What?"

"If the Bone Carver knew. The first time he saw you, you had already been Remade. Yet he still took the form of our son. Why? The image didn't even mean anything to us at that point." He stared at the infant who was snuggled between us. "Do you think he knew, even then? Even though you hadn't yet gone back? Or—did he also remember both ways, since it was also in his past?"

"I don't think it's supposed to make sense," I said, shaking my head with a wry grin. I wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him as tightly as I dared with the precious bundle resting between us.

I glanced around the windswept cliff one last time. "I'm done here. Let's go home."

Between one breath and the next, we vanished into shadows and stardust.

Author's Note: Thanks for all the comments and reviews! I'm not very good at replying to every one, but I appreciate you all! And thanks again to the my betas on the Kingdom of Sarah J. Maas discord.