Chapter 34

Trumpets blared from every direction, deafening Amren.

She was standing somewhere dark- the meeting hall that had become their command room. Papers were strewn about the place with details of the towns hit, missives from spies in other Courts that only Azriel would have understood, and sketchy reports about the coup Kier had staged in the Hewn City.

Amren was ready to pull out her hair- how did Rhysand resist the urge to kill absolutely everyone?

The room seemed normal enough, but with the blast of those trumpets golden glitter began to rain from on high. Harps soon joined the chorus to build towards the most shatteringly beautiful orchestra Amren had ever heard.

"Sweet, tiny sister, gaze up on high that I might impart for you the word of the divine." An angel with spotted wings descended in a tunic made from cloth-of-gold. A gleaming crown of gilded laurel sat upon his brow, and a harp was cradled in his hands. His face was pure, gentle serenity.

Amren was beginning to hate all of her Brothers, "Haniel, cut the bullshit."

" No ," his voice boomed over the chorus of trumpets and harps.

She rubbed her eyes to dispel the headache that formed. It was unique and very specific. Amren almost forgot in the eons since she last saw her Brother that she'd named this particular kind of headache 'the Haniel'.

'Joy of God'. Well, he might have been created from their Father's joy, but he was breathtakingly annoying to everyone else.

"I come to deliver a message to you, oh devout ant-like one. Thine presence hath been requested most urgently 'neath sacred and feared beacon's shadow. Um... " Haniel paused and looked to the side at something Amren couldn't see. "OK fine. Elain said to tell you to tell Mor to tell Cassian to tell Varian to tell Tarquin to tell Thesan that Velaris needs a healer immediately. And she also says… Wait what-?" Haniel turned his head again.

"JUST SPIT IT-"

Haniel held up a finger to silence Amren, "Hold please." He nodded a few times as Amren's temper grew. "OK, we're back. Elain said to tell Cassian and- what? Fine- and 'the next person who enters the room' that Nesta was spotted on the outskirts of the Yu Jun forest. Look for the white tree and turn left."

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Talk to you soon pipsqueak!" Haniel saluted Amren, strummed his harp, and vanished.

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Amren's whole body jolted at the sudden blast of trumpets. She jumped to her feet heart racing. Mor was sitting across from her, eating a muffin.

"You looked peaceful, so I thought-"

"Varian needs to pass on to Tarquin- and Tarquin to Thesan- that he should send healers to Velaris now ," Amren snapped.

Mor didn't even question the order. She dumped her muffin back onto her plate and scrambled for a piece of two-way paper to communicate with Cassian. The words shimmered, and a moment later a simple 'OK' appeared.

"Now tell Cassian that Nesta is at the edge of the Yu Jun forest in Dawn. Look for a white tree and go left."

Mor's eyes widened, but she quickly relayed that message too. She threw the pen onto the table, "Now explain to me-"

Amren held up a hand and waited. She had a feeling she knew who else the second message was for. Seconds passed. Mor opened her mouth again and-

The world gave a titanic heave as night exploded in the meeting room. Nuala and Achlys each had a hand on Rhysand's arms as he swiftly changed from wizened old man to the High Lord they'd last seen so long ago. His fangs were bared, his black scales were climbing towards his neck. The beast was taking over.

" Where is my mate! " he roared.

"Nesta is at the edge of the Yu Jun forest in Dawn," Amren said quickly. "Something tells me Feyre is nearby."

With that, Rhysand erupted in darkness once more.

"What just happened?" Mor was shaking. She looked to Achlys and Nuala, but the two were shuddering with exhaustion.

"Get to Dawn and winnow that healer here. Now."

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They traveled throughout the night, always just ahead of the hunters. Haniel was flying high above the winter clouds, Cera and Hades veil-walked around them, confusing tracks and moving scents as much as they could.

Finally, around mid-morning, Cera appeared in front of Tamlin in human form. The High Lord slowed gradually.

"They're on one of the false trails," Cera said. "It will take them a few hours to double back. The forest ends just ahead and it is open plains. We're going to rest for a little bit, okay?"

In answer, Tamlin shifted back to his fae form and dropped to his knees in the snow. Haniel landed in a clearing not far ahead, releasing Eirene and Lucien.

Hades appeared next. He stepped out of the shadow of a tree and fell to his knees beside the sled. Persephone pulled herself to him. Everyone on the sled was shivering in the biting winter chill. The goddess, Feyre, and Azriel didn't have the power to heat their blood, and Nesta and Elain had been in contact with Persephone's body.

They were all freezing and numb.

Elain crawled off Nesta's lap and over to Haniel. Nesta ignored them and turned around to inspect Feyre. Her eyes were closed- but the rip through her eyelid was almost healed. Nesta lifted a corner of a bloody bandage. The wounds were still open and seeping, but between Haniel's powder and the cold, she hadn't lost too much blood. A small puddle of it spread from beneath her. Considering her wounds it was better than Nesta had expected.

"Azriel?" Nesta touched his arms. He'd frozen with them wrapped around his friend. For a moment she worried he'd slipped away as they traveled, but he opened his eyes and nodded.

Tamlin built a fire, Lucien lit it, and Nesta monitored the snow that melted on the ground to identify the warmest seats. She'd make sure those went to Feyre and Azriel. Haniel and Elain were still conversing. Neither of them seemed to care about the fire right now.

Nesta threw a grateful smile to Hades when she came back to fetch her sister. The blood soaked cloak Feyre had been wrapped in was replaced with Hades' own, and he'd taken the soiled one to wrap around himself. He looked exhausted. Persephone was holding him up as much as he was holding her.

"Nesta? We need to speak to you about something. Your sister isn't awake to ask and… I trust you."

Nesta's eyes went to Hades, "Does this have to do with why you wanted to leave the camp?"

"Yes," Persephone answered for him.

Haniel and Elain moved to the fire. Haniel put a hand to his temple and Nesta felt a strange power flow into the world. He began to whisper.

No one looked nervous, so Nesta ignored them.

"You said the gods are looking for a Lock," she said to Hades. "What kind of Lock?"

Cera came to curl up against Persephone's side, "My momma's Lock. The one made when she made me."

Somehow Nesta had missed that story. Cerberus was the guardian of the Underworld. In the myths of Hades and Persephone the beast wasn't mentioned, but Nesta just assumed that was omission.

"Cera is a Chaos Lord," Persephone said. "She is the titan that represents the line between life and death. The reason those words have meaning. Before the Breaking, she was the heart of the being known as Chaos."

"So… you were part of the Breaking?" Nesta asked. Persephone had to be, if she was there when Cerberus was created. "But you're a god, not a titan."

Chaos was shattered to form the Chaos Lords- nearly infinite in number and with thousands of tiny domains. The Chaos-Lords created the titans, the titans the gods. Persephone was- according to the stories- the child of two gods. Even further removed from that original Breaking.

"I… I hid myself among the gods. But I was never one of them," Persephone said.

Persephone actually leaned into Hades' touch. This one thing unifying them in the moment. She kept her gaze trained on Nesta, "I am what came before Chaos. The one who shattered it, just to see what would happen. I sealed myself behind a Lock- one the gods have been trying to find since the dawn of time. And you- you seem to have eaten part of that Lock."

The Cauldron. Nesta had devoured part of the Cauldron.

Shivers wracked her body. She wasn't there when the Cauldron broke on the battlefield with Hybern, but she felt it. Felt what was laying in wait behind every scrap of creation in their world.

And she knew the truth then of what Persephone was. Not just a goddess or a Queen. A titan.

Persephone opened her mouth to say more, but there was an explosion of darkness far ahead at the edge of the woods. "NESTA!"

His voice was filled with so much anger and fear. She forgot about Persephone and Hades and everything else in the world. Nesta hauled herself to her feet and ran for that voice. She could hear his boots crunching in the snow as he stalked through the trees.

"Over there!" Varian's voice- the one who'd winnowed him in.

Pure death turned on its heel and Nesta loosed a sob as Cassian's face appeared ahead of her. He snarled his wrath, even thought relief lit his eyes. Cassian stomped towards her.

Then he saw the fire, and all those around it.

He slowed. Stared at the Graecians. At Persephone. Confusion replaced the rage in his eyes. Then he saw Feyre's body. Azriel… with no wings. He fell to his knees.

"I didn't leave," Nesta whispered. "I didn't want you to know I went to the god's camp in case- in case I didn't make it out. I didn't leave."

Cassian opened his mouth as tears began to fall down his cheeks. Varian jogged up behind him and went silent too.

Before he could speak there was another explosion- this one hard enough to shake mountains. Black smoke came ahead of him, filled with stars and talons, scales and teeth. It vanished as soon as it appeared and Nesta whirled to find Rhysand standing over Feyre and Azriel.

He lifted his mate into his arms. Feyre didn't even stir. Rhysand's gaze fell on Hades and pure murder filled his eyes. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end you now."

It was Persephone who looked up at him, strange emotion flickering in her eyes, "Because if you do, none of you will survive what is about to happen."

Too late, Nesta saw Tamlin hang his head and snap his fingers.

Too late, the body in Rhysand's arms shimmered and transformed into Hades, a bloody welt on the side of his head where he'd been struck.

Too late to stop what was about to happen, the figure beside Persephone shifted into that of a pale, half-dead fae.

One with the power of seven High Lords.

Whatever power Feyre had recovered glowed in her hands as she reached up behind Persephone, her face a mask of grim determination, and wrenched open the iron collar.

Unleashing not just the Queen of the Underworld-

-but the Titan of the Void.