Chapter 33
They made it to the treeline in one piece. That was the first hurdle.
Eirene came out from the darkness in an instant and threw herself into Tamlin's arms, kissing him deeply before stepping back to inspect him for injuries. Up until the kiss Nesta thought it was the Lucien-Eirene. But two more copies of her peeked out from behind the trees.
Tamlin waved a hand and there was a flash of light. Soon Lucien and Elain- in their true forms- were standing in place and Eirene was holding onto a now male High Lord.
At least there was only one of her now.
"We have to hurry," she said. Eirene turned to Nesta "Take your sister to Haniel, he has a sled for most of you."
Nesta obeyed. Pushing Feyre through the ever deepening snow was hard work- and it left a very clear trail for pursuers to follow.
"Don't tackle me," Nesta said quickly as Elain ran from the forest to meet her. "I have a jar in my pocket with Feyre's soul inside."
Elain froze, her eyes wide and full of fear, "Did I-"
"No," Nesta pulled it out to reassure her that it was whole and un-scratched. "I protected it."
"I could have killed her," Elain whispered.
"But you didn't, and that's what we need to focus on right now," Nesta wasn't used to taking control like this, but she kind of liked the feeling. "How's Azriel?"
Lucien's face was grave, "Not good. I- I wasn't trying to be mean, but I lit a small fire on the tips of my fingers and he didn't react at all." He'd done it once in Azriel's presence out of boredom and the Shadowsinger nearly killed him. It was a dark trigger, seeing Lucien's hand burning. He'd made sure never to do it again. Until now.
"And Persephone?"
"Won't even face the same direction as him."
"That's probably for the best."
Darkness exploded next to them and Cera appeared in her canine form. She ignored Lucien, Elain, and Nesta entirely and trotted into the forest. Nesta shrugged at the wonder on Elain's face and gave a heave to Feyre's chair, pushing her along into the black.
Haniel had gathered the others in a clearing, lit only by the dimmest of lanterns.
Nesta saw Hades first, speaking to Persephone in a low voice. She was sitting on a stump bundled in her cloak. Her face was wholly neutral to whatever her husband was saying.
Haniel had an unfinished sled piled in blankets. Azriel had been laid at the back against the curve of the large sled. More blankets were piled on his lap. "Hephaestus will kill me for taking something he hasn't even varnished yet," Haniel said.
"Extra incentive not to be caught then," Nesta replied. Hephaestus was the ugly god who had laughed when she first spotted the ever-shifting Gemini twins running through camp. Little did Nesta know at the time her companion was not a moody Horae of Spring but a tense High Lord.
Haniel waved Lucien over. Together they lifted Feyre's body from the chair and placed her on the sled in front of Azriel. She would lean back against his torso. At the sight of her body that light woke in Azriel's eyes again. His face crumpled in fresh grief. When she was set against him, he wrapped weak arms around her chest- guided by Haniel and Lucien to avoid the ruined joints.
His High Lady, a friend he loved and respected.
Feyre was safe in Azriel's arms. The sight of it sent a wave of relief through Nesta.
The wave was- it was a bit too strong. Dizzy, exhausted- the poison in her body made her too weak. Haniel cursed as Nesta swayed. He fished in his pocket and produced a pair of golden phials. One he tossed to Elain, the other he uncorked as darkness gathered at the corners of Nesta's vision.
She felt herself falling.
Felt her power rising to catch her.
When she hit the ground, she felt the soul-jar shatter against her leg.
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" Come see, come see, come see, " her power whispered in her ear.
Nesta's eyes opened on the hall of black smoke.
Her power shattered and shuddered around her, stronger than ever before.
She obeyed its call. Let it pull her forward. Down through the endless empty halls. All the way to Feyre's sarcophagus.
The dream she'd had a hundred times.
" Do you like it? " That horrible little voice, so filled with glee at the death before her.
Even in her dream, Nesta was tired. She wanted the nightmare to end. Needed it to- there were things to be done in the world above. The clock was ticking, and she had no time to spare.
"Fine," Nesta said. The world around her stilled. Persephone once told her she needed to wear her power, or it would act up like a misbehaving child. "Show me. I'll tell you if I like it."
The sarcophagus cracked-
-where her dream usually ended, it instead continued. She sensed approval in the darkness. Like it had been waiting for the chance.
It cracked, and Nesta found herself stepping forward. She put her hands on the seamless stone and shoved as hard as she could.
Something shifted beneath her fingers. The crack spread, and the edge of a lid appeared. Nesta hissed as the stone cut her hands, but she kept shoving with all her might. Blood dripped down the sides, and where it touched, the stone crumbled to dust.
Nesta shoved and shoved, moving the lid inch by inch to reveal a swirling darkness inside until finally there was a loud bang and the sarcophagus lid fell away.
The darkness began to clear. She knew what it would show her. Had known since she first had this dream when she saw Feyre in the camp. Inside would be Feyre's body. Her corpse. All that remained of the huntress and painter.
A death Nesta would not let her have. Not today.
" Do you like it? " her power whispered again. Nesta felt it like a hand on her shoulder as she- and the world around- leaned in to see the bottom of the sarcophagus.
Feyre's body, but not ruined or rotted. In a gray and black world it was the only thing bright with color. Hidden away, buried inside Nesta's own might and wrapped in layers upon layers of the Cauldron's magic.
She was chained to the bottom, one band around each wrist and ankle, a wider one around her head. The head was the strangest part- Feyre's neck was bent to the side, turning her face towards the back of the sarcophagus, as if she couldn't stand to see what might peer in through the lid.
The iron band wrapped around her eyes, fitted to her so that not a speck of light could get in. It continued around to her ears where again it had been expertly sculpted, rendering her blind and deaf.
That was when Nesta realized what she was looking at, where she was, and why that dream was haunting her all these months. What her power had done.
"This doesn't belong here, does it?"
" I took it for you. Say you like it ," the Cauldron whispered in that cruel, dark voice.
Nesta reached down and stroked Feyre's cheek, "I do… but it's time to send it home. Alright?"
" I did well? "
"You did well," a tear slipped down her cheek. She reached for the cuff around Feyre's wrist and yanked up on it. Two pegs as long as her arm were driven deep into the stone. It came up easily as her blood soaked the metal. "You held her very tightly, but she has to go. Okay?"
" Of course ," the voice softened slightly, and Nesta felt a kiss upon her cheek as she walked around the sarcophagus and removed each of the cuffs.
All that remained was what held her blind and deaf. Blind to the horrible things those eyes had been forced to see. Deaf to her own screams and any promises or whispered tricks the Graecians might have used to try and lure Feyre out.
Light flooded through Nesta's heart as the soul once contained in Hades' jar flew free. Hades took that much from Feyre, but her baby sister was too smart for him. She'd let him take her soul- Because Feyre had already locked her heart and mind away. Blind and deaf. Unable to escape in the flesh, so she'd buried herself in her Daemati power.
And then the Cauldron within Nesta looked into Feyre's eyes and stole her away. For months it tried to tell her, to show her. Feyre wasn't in that ruined body. She was hidden inside Nesta's own mind.
Nesta reached down and pulled the iron mask up and out of the stone. She reached down and cupped Feyre's cheek, until her sister stirred and opened her eyes.
"It's time to go home now."
Feyre nodded, and the world exploded into light.
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Nesta choked on the potion that Haniel poured down her throat. As she sputtered, she pointed to Feyre's body, hoping someone would get her message.
A scream shattered the silent forest.
Haniel held Nesta as she began to gag. Her stomach was churning. She heaved and vomited up something black and oily.
The screams were deafening, but Haniel refused to let her go as she emptied her stomach. The poison that had coursed through her body burned through the snow to the ground below, hissing and crackling as it went.
Once Nesta had taken three consecutive breaths without being sick, Haniel shoved her away from the burning puddle and into Elain's arms. Nesta opened her eyes as he reached the sled. Feyre was shuddering and gasping, screaming loudly enough that the sound was sure to draw attention at the Graecian camp.
"Do it now!" Nesta croaked at Persephone. She'd whirled when the screaming started.
"Get me to her!" Persephone commanded. Hades obeyed without question.
She fell heavily into the snow beside the sled. Azriel's eyes were wide in fear, but Persephone didn't even look at him- concentrated on not looking at him.
"Strip her," Nesta looked up at Elain, who was white as a sheet.
She nodded, and set Nesta down gently in the blessed cold snow. Nesta watched as Elain ran to Persephone's side. She fumbled with the clasp on the cloak until she could throw it open. The dress she and Lucien had wrapped Feyre in was loose. This should have been done in a healer's chambers, but when the jar broke there was no other option. Feyre's soul had crashed into Nesta's, and the Cauldron drew them both together to wake the High Lady.
Feyre was thrashing in Azriel's weak grip. Haniel grabbed her head and in a moment her body fell limp. "Hurry, Melinoe won't have had time to poison every hunter in that camp."
Persephone didn't waste a moment. She ripped out the black devices, barely pausing long enough for Elain to adjust the bandages and fill the holes as blood at last appeared within the wounds. Too much blood, and too many wounds.
"Can you heal her?" Nesta whispered to Haniel. She fumbled with the pocket of her cloak and held up the vial he'd given her when they first met- healing potion. "Give her this."
"I can't," Haniel hurried to the back of the sled and began digging around in packs for something. "It's not a healing potion, it's some of Ramiel's Gatorade mixed with edible glitter."
"Is- can it help her?"
"Only if she's a tiny bit dehydrated." Haniel found what he was looking for- a jade pot about the size of his fist, "But I made friends with the Chinese pantheon eons ago and their Emperor gave me some of this."
He yanked the lid off the pot. It was filled to the brim with a fine white powder. Haniel held it out over Feyre's body and said to Elain, "Sprinkle just a pinch over each wound before you bandage it."
Elain immediately obeyed, and Haniel worked with one hand to undo the bandages Elain had already set, coating them with the powder.
"This is a healing powder for mortals. It slows the bleeding. How much faster is your fae healing?"
"Here-" Lucien hurried over. He pulled a jeweled dagger out of his pocket and drew the blade. Carefully, he scraped it across his hand just enough to leave a thin scratch. Haniel kept glancing from Lucien's hand to Feyre as he worked. Within ten seconds the cut was healed.
"Her body doesn't have enough blood already, and I'm betting it will be slower, but I think the powder will buy us time."
"We shouldn't need long," Tamlin said. He was staying out of the way with Eirene by his side. Pain filled his eyes at the sight of Feyre. "Her mate will feel her. He'll come. He might try to kill everyone, but I promise you he will come."
Hades put a hand on Persephone's back. That was when Nesta noticed how much she was shaking. Her eyes were moving rapidly, and her hands weren't moving with the same careful precision. She started missing the black wedges as often as she touched them- taking finger-fulls of thin air.
"Cera- can you please warn us when the gods start moving this way?" Hades said. Even he knew Melinoe's drug wouldn't have knocked out the entire camp.
Haniel and Elain started moving faster, but there was no rushing Persephone. She'd said she could touch a single finger to Feyre's head and all the wedges would fall away, but that might wipe out the magic of Haniel's powders and whatever potion Elain and Lucien had given her. She was being as careful as she could, trying not to touch Feyre directly.
One by one the wedges fell away. Nesta's strength began to return. She spat a few mouthfuls of inky black as her body and mind settled again.
"Not fast enough," Haniel hissed. He was eyeing the camp in the distance, where lights were beginning to glow.
On cue, Cera appeared, "The hunters are coming."
Not fast enough, not fast enough, not fast enough.
Nesta scrambled to the sled. She grabbed Persephone's wrist and the goddess jumped. "Let me help you."
Persephone nodded. Nesta moved her arm from wedge to wedge. When she nodded, Persephone grabbed the black thing and pulled it away. Elain quickly sprinkled a pinch of white powder into the wound.
Ten left- the camp was glowing brighter.
Five left- figures were beginning to run across the field.
One left- Tamlin transformed in a flash into a great golden beast. Hades and Nesta hauled Persephone away as Tamlin stepped in front of the sled. There was a gust of citrus-scented wind and ropes lashed him to the sled.
The final bandage was returned to Feyre. Hades pushed Nesta to the sled. Persephone couldn't touch Feyre directly. Azriel held her, but he was fading fast. Nesta braced her sister and sat down in front of her, then leaned back against her chest. Elain sat in front of her. The sled wasn't long enough, but Persephone wedged herself at the head. Her leg bumped Nesta's and she shivered against the numbing of her power. Haniel spread his wings and grabbed both Lucien and Eirene to his sides. Eirene stepped onto his foot with both of hers, and with an apologetic wince, Lucien did the same.
"Cera and I will veil-walk. We'll try to lose the hunters." Hades looked to Persephone. She nodded.
With that, Tamlin roared and charged into the dark forest, dragging the sled behind him. Haniel spread his mighty wings and launched into the air.
For his own sake, Nesta hoped Azriel couldn't see him fly.