We were just sitting down to breakfast in the palace above the Hewn City when the message came. Mor sat straight up, all trace of her usual early-morning lethargy gone in an instant, and said, "Rhys found her. We need to go, now."
"Where?" I demanded, pushing out of my chair with such force that it fell over.
"Border of Autumn and Winter," Mor snapped, summoning blades from a pocket realm to fasten about her person. "She's under attack from Autumn - likely Beron's sons," she added. "Az will meet us there."
I briefly considered and discarded several strategies as I tapped my Siphons to summon my armor. I knew that even now, the thought of facing Eris made Mor tremble, but that she was willing to do it in order to save our High Lady. However I also knew that Az and I were more than up to the task. In fact, if I was being honest, I relished the opportunity to separate Eris's head from his shoulders, as I had wanted to do over 500 years ago. So, as my final piece of armor snapped into place, I told her, "Drop me off and then go to the northern border of Winter. The last thing we need is a bunch of Winter sentries deciding they want to intervene, and you're enough of a threat that you can draw their attention away."
Relief and concern warred over Mor's features. "Cass, your wings -" she began.
"Are more than up to the task," I cut her off decisively. "Let's go."
She grabbed my hand, and a heartbeat later we were whirling through darkness and emerging high above a frozen lake. I snapped out my wings to support us, but Mor was already gone. Azriel appeared a moment later, and I took a few precious seconds to take in the scene below us.
On the ice, I saw five figures: four with flaming red hair and a smaller one who dripped blood as she ran across the ice. Fury lashed through my veins as one of the red-haired figures winnowed and backhanded her so hard she went down, then wrapped flames around her and started dragging her back to the Autumn shore. I barely registered the appearance of more sentries, armed with arrows of ash, before I growled to Az "Cover me," and I snapped my wings in tight and dove. I was going to end every single one of them who laid a hand on her.
I didn't bother to slow my fall as my feet slammed into the ice right in front of Feyre and snarled at the male who held her. She was bound with fire around her ankles, wrists, and mouth, and there was a nasty gash on her arm, but otherwise she seemed unharmed. The emotion in her face as she saw me threatened to send me to my knees, and my Siphons flickered as Azriel landed between us and the other males. I looked into the face of her captor and felt the icy rage of battle settle over me as I pulled twin blades from their sheaths at my sides.
"I suggest you drop my lady," I said to Eris, with a calm I did not feel. His hand tightened in her hair, and she let out a small whimper of pain. I bared my teeth at him, suddenly transported back to a different time and place, with a different female at his mercy. A familiar panic threatened to take hold as I beheld them, but although Feyre was not much older now than Mor was then, I had trained her myself. All I needed was for her to get out of his grasp so I could kill him for daring to harm another member of my family.
I slid my eyes from Eris to Feyre, willing her to remember those first lessons I had given her all those months ago. Understanding lit her eyes, and before Eris could react she turned and slammed her knees between his legs. He doubled over, but kept his grip on her hair, so she drove her fists into his face. The crunch of his nose breaking had barely finished sounding when I saw Feyre rolling away, and I allowed myself a feral smile of anticipation as I raised my blades and stepped between them.
Eris was fast, I'll give him that, and had his sword out to prevent the killing blow I had intended for his neck. He was back on his feet a moment later, and I advanced to push him further away from Feyre. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of blue as Azriel shielded us from the arrows coming in from the shore, but then my attention was back on the male before me. He blocked my next few blows, but I had the weight of five centuries' worth of hatred and vengeance on my side as I parried with one blade and sunk the other into his gut.
His scream was music to my ears, and I had just pulled the knife to prepare for another strike when I heard Feyre's voice behind me. "Stop." The word was soft, but full of the same primal command I had heard Rhys use countless times: an order from my High Lady. With effort, I forced my hands to my sides and looked around. Feyre was surveying the scene, having managed to free herself from her bonds, but her magic still seemed mostly out of reach. I couldn't help a jolt of surprise as I realized one of the red-haired males was Lucien, who looked as though he had been helping Azriel hold off two of his brothers nearby.
The shadowsinger flicked blood from his blade and stalked toward us, taking up a spot at Feyre's shoulder. I did the same on her other side, willing the bloodlust to subside, as she spoke again. "You all deserve to die for this. And for much, much more. But I am going to spare your miserable lives." Her voice was cool and confident, so different from the small, broken creature I had first met that night at the House of Wind.
Eris sneered at her words, and I snarled a warning at him as I tightened my grip on my knives, which I had only just returned to their sheaths. Feyre, however, merely dropped the glamour on her right hand to reveal a tattoo I had not yet seen, but recognized as I saw the swirls that traced from her elbow to fingertips. "I am High Lady of the Night Court," she declared, and the shock and fear on Eris and his brothers' faces was a sight to behold.
"There's no such thing as a High Lady," one of them spat, and I tensed again but looked to Feyre for direction.
"There is now," she replied simply, and the tightness in my chest finally eased a fraction as pride again took its place. Pride for my High Lady, who was a survivor, who'd been broken but had fought and clawed her way through the darkness the way all of us had. Pride for my friend, my sister, the one who filled the void in our circle none of us had realized was there, but was very evident once she had gone. I allowed that pride - and relief at having her back - to show as she turned to face me.
"Take me home," she commanded, before nodding to Azriel. "Take us both home." Lucien had joined us at some point, his face pale as he continued to stare at Feyre's exposed tattoos. I remembered explaining to her that they represented luck and glory in the battle, and was honored to have this fierce female before me wear them.
"We'll see you on the battlefield," she said in dismissal to the Autumn Court flunkies still staring at us, before stepping to my side. I pulled her tightly into my arms before launching into the sky, hearing Azriel do the same beside me. Feyre buried her face into my chest against the wind as we ascended, and I could feel her heart pounding wildly with the aftershocks of adrenaline from the fight.
I waited until the icy lake was a speck behind us and her heartbeat had slowed to speak to her, searching for a safe subject to break the tension. "I don't know who looks more uncomfortable: Az or Lucien Vanserra," I drawled, noting how both males were pointedly avoiding eye contact.
I felt her laugh as she craned her head to get a look at them, and grinned in response. "Vanserra?" she asked.
"You never knew his family name?" I chuckled as she turned back to me. I saw her take in the wings over my shoulders as her smile slipped, remembering, no doubt, what sorry shape I'd been in the last time she saw me. Tears that had nothing to do with the wind whipping around us formed in her eyes, and I softened my face. "Hello, Feyre," I said, my voice expressing all of the affection and gratitude I felt toward her.
Her lip trembled and she threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my chest once again. I felt a lump rise in my throat as I tightened my own embrace and murmured "I missed you, too."