CH 2: MERCY
It was hard to follow the assault, because everything was happening so fast— so much faster than any other time Jurian made us attack. We were an army of about two dozen against just 3 faeries. But we were greatly outmatched.
Marcus was firing off bolts of lightning whenever he saw one of the faeries still for just a moment. The bright flashes were drawing a lot of attention, and I feared that they would target him since he was so powerful. Not that I had a choice, because the magic made sure I did not, but I began to use more of my powers. I stopped throwing boulders, and instead pulled up even more earth. So much that the other humans had to get out of the way of a massive stone giant that crawled out of the ground. When he stood, he was the height of five men, and I was standing on his shoulder.
I swung my arms, which moved the stone giant's limbs, and began to attempt to clobber the faeries. One was on the ground, using some kind of invisible magic to instantly kill any human that got close to him. The other was using his sword to strike down human after human. And the last was flying around, and I swung at him, like he was a mosquito.
A flash of bright lightning shot up just past me, and I saw Marcus was firing at the flying faerie when he swooped too close to me. I smashed the foot of the stone giant against the ground, in an attempt to crush the faerie wielding the sword, who was quickly advancing on the remaining humans, including Marcus.
Kill them, Jurian's voice was loud in my head, and I'm sure also in everyone else's head. And the magical chain felt like it was squeezing the air out of my lungs. We had to kill these faeries, it was the only way this compulsion would end.
All this exertion, all this magic I was using to create and manipulate this massive stone creature was leaving me breathless. My heart was racing as I tried to keep my eyes on this faerie that circled me, who looked like a blotch of darkness in the sky. He seemed to have a dark cloud swirling around him, even in the bright of day. But I also wanted to keep track of the faeries on the ground—because I had to know if Marcus was alright. And every time I saw a flash of blue lightning, I had the slightest tinge of relief. He wasn't dead.
But just as I thought that, just as I allowed one minuscule bit of comfort into my heart, I saw something terrible.
The faerie with the sword advanced so quick, and dodged Marcus' blast of lightning. And then I watched him spear my best friend with his blade.
No. No. No.
Not Marcus.
The magic tightened around me, forcing me to try and strike the faeries with the stone giant, but I was not in my body anymore. It felt like I was 100 feet up, watching the whole awful thing happen to other people.
Not me. Not Marcus.
He could't die. He was my last friend.
Marcus crumpled as the sword was pulled from his gut, and I felt my mind tearing into pieces. Because I wanted nothing more than to scream for him, to cry, to come to his side and apply pressure to the wound. To race Marcus to a healer and pray and pray that he would survive such a blow. But that was the torture of being under this faerie curse; I couldn't do anything other than what was ordered.
The faerie that slayed Marcus leapt into the air, and started flying around with the other one. They were shouting at each other, but I couldn't make out the words over the beating of my own heart in my ears.
Thrashing my arms, the stone giant swung his massive fist, and batted the faerie with the sword out of the sky, like he was nothing.
If I hadn't been attracting the brunt of the assailants attention before, I sure would now that I'd significantly struck one. With the elemental powers blasting, I could barely keep straight where the next attack was coming from as the remaining humans continued to fight. And when I looked, there were very few remaining humans. Most were dead, some were fleeing.
Fleeing? How were they fleeing? The sting of magic in my head would certainly not allow me to get away.
The earth rolled at my will, knocking the dark-haired faerie on the ground back, and the stone giant was doing as best he could to keep the dark, flying one at bay. But they were getting close now, so close. The flying one with the shadows, swooping in to the point where I could see he also held a dagger, and his hazel eyes. And the one on the ground, I could see now he also had tattoo's all along his hands and arms.
The fact I could see all that, I knew I was letting them get dangerously near. It was only a matter of time before I was stabbed, or carried off into the sky, or whatever the faerie on the ground was doing that dropped people dead.
My heart was racing so fast. I didn't know what I was doing. I'd never been trained to fight before. And there was no question these were soldiers I was battling— faeries probably hundreds of years older than me, with an entire war's experience at their disposal. I'd never win. None of us humans stood a chance. Jurian had damned us all.
And maybe Jurian realized as much too, because as the barrage of attacks grew more vicious, and an increasing number of his captive army perished, he must have decided to take the loss and retreat with whichever humans still lived— but not me. Because suddenly his voice was in my head again, demanding. Enough. stand down and stand still. Let them kill you. Don't speak to them.
As Jurian willed it, the chain tightened around my neck and I froze. The magic tang so potent in my mouth I could have vomited. The stone monster began to slide down into earth where he'd been pulled from, lowering me slowly with it. The faerie with dark wings and the shadows flew at me, dagger ready to strike, but I couldn't even flinch. Could only watch the gleam of the blade in the sun, blinding me.
At least I'd be free of this curse, free of all this faerie mess once he killed me. I'd be back with my friend's Jurian had murdered on the other side… if there was another side.
I felt the blade at my throat. I couldn't move, my arms at my sides, my hands flat against my thighs. I just stared at the faerie and the swirling darkness around him, that curled over his ear and hair and hands. His face displayed no emotion, but a dark intensity, like he was assessing my very soul. He followed me as the stone giant lowered back to the Earth— the blade never leaving my throat.
Why hadn't he killed me yet?
"What's your name?" He asked, his voice low and dark. But I couldn't answer, and I felt his hand on my arm, firm but not painful. My heart was in my throat with fear. "You'll have to talk, eventually," he said. It sounded to calm to be a threat, but there was no other way I could take that sentence in my heightened emotional state.
No, I thought. I won't. Not until Jurian wills it.
When we reached the ground, another faerie began to approach, slowly, but not fearfully. I doubted these faeries even knew what true fear felt like. Like having nothing, no control. Like me.
My heart racing, threatening to beat out of my chest and run away when I couldn't. This faerie sauntering over had hair so dark black it gleamed blue in the sunlight, and his violet eyes darkened as they narrowed on me. His gaze slid from me, to his comrade with the dagger and then fell back on me.
Kill me, kill me, kill me. I thought, begged rather. It would be the humane thing to do, not that the fae were known for their humanity or mercy. No. I feared they'd slice me to pieces trying to get me to talk, and I'd never even be able to scream.
Can you speak?
The voice— it was in my head like Jurian, but—
I'm not Jurian.
No, he certainly wasn't, that much was clear. His voice— it sounded very different, less mean. And I knew without being told it was the dark-haired faerie standing before me who was speaking to me through my mind.
I- I can't speak, I can't do anything. Not until Jurian wills it.
The faerie waved his hand, and the shadowed one lowered his dagger from my neck, but he did not step away. He still held my arm, even though I hadn't so much as quivered since Jurian commanded me to still.
Those violet eyes pressed into me, and I was too terrified to look away. I wanted to beg for my life, but I couldn't speak until Jurian willed it—and there was no chance of that now— or until they took off this godforsaken artifacts that bound me to him.
What artifact?
I should't have said that— should't have thought it, rather. Oh, Jurian would kill me now. If there was any chance I'd survive the next few moments with these faeries, he certainly would kill me for this.
You shouldn't worry about him, he's fled. He can't hurt you now.
You don't know what he's capable of. He- any moment he could have me slit my own throat. Gouge out my own eyes. Throw myself from a cliff. I've seen him do it all. And for much less than communicating with his enemy.
The faerie reached a tattoo'd hand over to me, and my neck. His fingers rested on the metal chain looping tightly at my throat. Is this it?
Just kill me and be done with it.
I won't kill you. I want to help you.
You must think I'm the biggest fool if you think I'd trust a fae's word after what Jurian has done to me.
The faerie pulled at the chain sharply, breaking it. And as the curse shattered, I stumbled, caught off guard with finally being in my own power again. But the shadowed faerie still had my arm, so he caught me before I could fall all the way to the ground. I tried to worm from him, but his grasp was firm. "I-I'm sorry," I started, my hand accidentally touching his, and I felt some severe scars which made me want jerk away. "I- I wouldn't have attacked if I had control. I wouldn't even be here at all."
"Release her, Azriel," the violet-eyed one said, and I was free to teeter away from them a few steps. My heart was beating so wildly, I felt like there was a strong chance I might blackout from the swells of panic and relief rolling through me.
Just breathe. The voice said. Another wave of panic. How was he still in my head, even without that damn necklace?
"I'm trying to help you," he said, this time aloud, his hand out stretched. I could see the dark blue tattoo lines ran along his arms and his hand. I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes now that I wasn't under Jurian's control. He was terrifying.
"I- I just need a second," I stammered, stepping further away. I was going to faint, I knew it. It felt like the whole world was falling down around me. The freedom… it still felt like being cursed.
The look of the two winged warrior faeries was too much. I had to get out of here, I had to get out of Prythian now, while I could.
Without anymore thought than that, I pulled the Earth back up like a wave, knocking the two fae away from me, and took off towards the woods as fast as I could. And considering I made the Earth roll under me as I ran, so each step was like 10 from before, I was pretty fast.
But then, out of literally nothing, the two fae appeared before me, and I crashed into them, tumbling into the ground and rolling until I hit a tree. Before I could get up, or even figure out which way was up, the one called Azriel was on me, holding me down on the ground.
"Just stay still," his voice only slight above a whisper, and I did, afraid he'd pull out his dagger again. "You don't even know where you are, do you?"
I felt tears burning my eyes even though I willed myself not to cry. "Jurian said we were in the Nightcourt," I remembered.
Azriel nodded. "And that's the furthest possible court from the Mortal Realms," he said. "You can't just run home."
I don't think he meant to sound cruel, but I couldn't help that my heart ached at that. His hazel eyes seemed to soften a little, and he looked up at the other faerie, before he pulled me to my feet and released me.
"I'm Rhysand," the tattoo'd faerie said. I could tell he was in charge, although he gave me no title. "This is Azriel," the shadows seemed to grow at the sound of his name. "Who are you?"
I should lie. It'll only get worse if they know the truth. They could find my family, and blackmail them. With the fae, any number of terrible possibilities could come true.
But I felt like I couldn't think fast enough, or my mind couldn't process my racing thoughts or the need for strategy. So in the end I just said the truth, "Dellia."
"I have questions for you, but I think we can answer them more comfortably elsewhere." He turned to Azriel and said, "We can meet you at The House of Wind. Will you tell the others? And do a final scan of the area." Azriel glanced at me before he nodded and then stepped into the shadows that followed him— vanishing.
Rhysand reached out his hand again, and I very reluctantly took it. The next moment, we weren't in the forest anymore. But in a garden at the base of a tall red mountain. I pulled away from Rysand quickly and looked around. It was still very unnerving to blink and be somewhere entirely new. Jurian had done it several times, like when he took us from the Mortal Realm, and again to get us to various battles, including the one we'd lost in Nightcourt. But I never liked it.
"This is my home," Rysand said, reading my confusion. "We're going to go up there," he pointed to the very top of the mountain. "But we have to fly. I can carry you." I looked at him with wide eyes, like he must be mad to think I'd let him haul me through the sky like that.
"Can't we talk down here?"
The faerie smiled, what would have been a handsome grin on a human. "We can, but there's food and drink up there. And I promise you will like it better when you see it." I very much doubted that. And faerie food and drink was the last thing I needed.
"I- can I get up on my own?"
Rhysand's pleasant expression flickered a little. "There's ten thousand steps," he said.
I looked up, towards the top of the mountain. "With my magic, then?"
Rhysand tilted his head, curious. And then shrugged. "As you wish."
We walked closer to the mountain, and then I pulled a ledge out and stepped on it. Slowly, I made it rise up the edge of the mountain. Higher and higher until I was a hundred feet off the ground. I had to stop looking down at Rhysand, for fear of falling off. There was still hundreds of feet more to go.
Suddenly I saw Rhysand flying in front of me, those large, dark wings flapping rather gently. I made the ledge move quicker, pulling me up and up and up. I could feel my ears popping, but despite my fear, I kept my eyes on the flying faerie rather than looking around at the land getting smaller. Finally I reached a window, and stopped the ledge so that I could climb in.
It looked like a palace, more than a house. Something maybe one of the Queens of human realms would live in, but even that comparison didn't seem to do it justice. I watched as Rhysand swooped in through the window, expertly folding his wings back as he landed so as to not to hit me. Still, I made sure to stand far away from him. Then, his wings vanished, like they were just an illusion the whole time.
"Are you a prince or something?" I asked.
"We don't have princes here," he said. "But I am the High Lord of the Nightcourt."
I didn't know what the proper response to that was. Should I curtsey? Call him your highness? I felt like a stupid human.
He smiled at me, and it seemed kind, although on principal I didn't trust it. "You're doing fine. It's very overwhelming, I'm sure." He pointed to a hallway and said, "Let's go in the dinning room and find the others."
As I followed him, I was struck by the feeling of ignorance. How had I lived my whole life knowing so little about the fae? Not knowing even their different realms, their geography, that they had 'high lords' and not a monarchy? I mean, if even I didn't know these simple things, the rest of the humans who had access to much less education and resources and power would know nothing. And they'd have to learn fast, because I was sure Jurian would continue to steal more humans to use for his war.
Rhysand slowed and I stopped trailing him. "Jurian took you from your own lands?" Rhysand asked me, his expression something like sadness masking fury.
He is still in my mind.
I am, his voice said softly in my head.
"Get out." I snapped.
I can't help it. You think very loudly.
I had no privacy. I had nothing. "How is this any different than that thing Jurian put on my neck, whatever it is you do?"
Rhysand's expression darkened. I'm not controlling you. I'm just hearing your thoughts.
Well, stop it.
He forced a smile, and said, "My apologies. This way."
In the large dinning room there were already three more fae waiting, chatting in hushed voices that went silent when I entered. One of them was the female faerie from the woods, I think, the one with the bronze hair. The other two were also women.
I wondered where the sword-wielding faerie who killed Marcus went, and the one with the shadows, Azriel. But just as I thought that, they stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room, and looked right at me. I quickly looked away.
Rhysand gestured for everyone to come closer. "This is Dellia. Dellia, this is Amren," he pointed to a small, fierce faerie with smokey, silver eyes. She looked terrifying. "Morrigan," a beautiful, tall, blonde one smiled at me warmly. "Feyre, my wife." She did not smile at me, she was the one from the forest we'd attacked first. I wouldn't have smiled either if I were her. "Azriel you met," the shadow-covered faerie stayed still as his eyes measured me. "And Cassian," the muscular, frightening killer with the sword.
"You struck me out of the sky," he said flatly, his wings jostling behind him.
I felt my heart stop and I almost couldn't find words to break the silence.
You killed my friend, I wanted to say, I wish I'd hit you harder. But faeries were not creatures to talk back to, I'd learned as much from Jurian and Hybick. So I took a quick breath, and muttered, "I- I'm sorry about that. Are you alright?"
He snorted, "Alright? Have you had a stone giant smack you in the back recently?"
Rhysand cleared his throat, as if to put an end to that conversation, and gestured for everyone to go to the table. Before we'd even sat down, plates and plates of food manifested in front of us. And it smelled divine. I sat down stiffly, and the beautiful faerie Morrigan sat next to me, and Cassian on the other side of me. He looked at me sidelong, like he didn't trust me, but still took my plate and served me mountains of food before grabbing his own. I just stared at it, wondering how I would ever tactfully turn this down. Everyone knew the fae used food and drink to trap humans. And while I was sure they already believed I was a fool, I wasn't quite this naive.
"It's not enchanted," Rhysand said, and I bristled remembering, again, that he was in my thoughts. How does one think quieter? "Nor poisoned. Humans usually find our food tastes superior, but that's just flavor."
"Don't pressure her, Rhys," Morrigan said, starting in on her own plate. "She's adjusting."
"She looks like Jurian hasn't fed her in weeks," Rhysand said flatly, taking a sip from his wine. "But of course, she doesn't have to eat if she doesn't want to."
Rhysand sat across from me, Feyre at his right and Azriel at his left. Amren sat at the end of the table and didn't touch any of the food either. But I felt the pressure of all of their eyes on me, so I grabbed my fork and poked at some meat just to look elsewhere.
It was Feyre who broke the uncomfortable silence. "Where are you from?" She asked, her voice soft. I allowed myself the briefest glance up from my plate to assess her. For a faerie that we'd attacked unprovoked, there seemed to be genuine concern on her face.
I gulped down some spit. The food smelled so good, it was distracting me.
"Scythia," I said, quietly.
She nodded, like she knew the place. Maybe she did.
"Feyre is from Scythia," Rhysand said, and I narrowed my eyes at him, since I'd already asked him several times to stay out of my head. Clearly he was incapable, or unwilling, to do so. He reminded me of Jurian.
Hearing that thought, Rhysand's nose wrinkled in disgust, and he stabbed at his plate of food.
But then, I felt swell of nerves rising from the bowels of my stomach. How could a faerie be from the Mortal Realm? That didn't make sense. But if it was true and she recognized me— I didn't want to consider that, and I actively tried to think about something else in case Rhysand was still in my head.
Everyone was quiet, waiting for me or someone else to continue the conversation. I hadn't been at such a tense meal since I last ate with my sisters. I didn't want to think about that either. I looked at my plate, the pile of delicious food. Hunger. That was more than enough of a distraction.
Finally I managed to ask, "What town are you from?"
"It's a small village about two days from The Wall," she said vaguely, like she didn't think I would know it..
Rhysand looked at his wife and said quietly, "Dellia was taken by Jurian when she was near The Wall."
I wanted very badly to take a drink of my wine to distract myself, but since I knew better, I just put my hands on my lap and tapped my knee. "That's right." I said. "I was in Perth when we were attacked, if you're familiar with that village."
Feyre nodded, her blue-grey eyes growing dark. "That's terrible."
Terrible was an understatement, but it was hard to put into words how unimaginably awful being under Jurian's control was. The things he would make us do. I looked down to avoid the gaze of the faeries, and felt like I could see blood on my hands. I did a long blink to clear the image from my head.
What did he make you do?
My eyes shot back up to Rhysand, angry.
"If you can hear my thoughts, why do you need me to tell you anything at all?" I snapped.
"We can't all hear your thoughts. And that would make for pretty dry dinner conversation." Rhysand shrugged. "But if that's what you'd prefer…?"
I squeezed the fork and jabbed it into a potato. "Of course not. I'd prefer if my thoughts stayed my own. As I'm sure everyone else does."
Rhysand was totally undeterred by my irritation and attitude. "How'd you get your magic? It's very rare for humans to have magic."
I held up my left hand, which had the brass band on it. "We each got one. It gave us fae magic."
Cassian, who was on my left, reached out his hand. "Can I?" He asked as he reached for my wrist and the bracelet. I didn't want him to touch me, the faerie who killed my best friend. So I narrowed my eyes at him and put my hand back in my lap. He looked miffed.
"Why was your magic stronger than the others?" Cassian asked.
I shrugged. The hell if I knew. But it certainly was strong, with my earth-bending and stone giant, we'd handily won every fight until today. Although, the fights hadn't been particularly fair. Jurian had us attack what seemed to be a religious temple of sorts, and none of the priestesses fought back at all. It had essentially been a slaughter. And we sacked many villages that seemed quite unsuspecting. It made me sick to think about all the deaths we'd caused— the people I'd killed.
I saw Rhysand's face grimace, and I knew he was in my thoughts again, which irked me.
I didn't want to do those things, I thought, specifically for him.
I know.
I think the other faeries realized that we were communicating in our minds because they started to talk amongst each other. I guess they must be used to the constant invasion of privacy.
I'm not trying to invade your privacy.
The annoyance in me was growing. Certainly it was the fact this High Lord was in my thoughts. But it was also the pain of starvation, and being surrounded by the delicious smells of all this food. Or it was the fact these faeries made everything seem normal, even though there was nothing remotely normal about what had happened to me. And maybe it was also that I'd just watched them kill my last friend, and his body lay rotting in a field while I sat at a palace feast like nothing happened.
We can bring your friend's body home, so he can be buried, Rhysand said in my head. I'm sorry for your loss.
I felt my jaw clench as I tried to not cry. It would be stupid to cry now in front of everyone. It wouldn't bring Marcus back, and he wouldn't have wanted me to cry anyways.
Thank you. We're from the capital city.
Rhysand nodded at me and whispered something to Azriel, who I realized then had not been talking to anyone else during dinner. His hazel eyes had been watching me. I wondered if he could read minds too. Maybe he was in my head, lurking as Rhysand was.
Azriel doesn't read minds. It's just me 'lurking.' Rhysand took a sip of wine and then finally said aloud, "If you don't feel like eating, I can have you escorted to some of our guest rooms. You can relax there for the night."
"I'd prefer to go straight back to Scythia," I said. "I've had enough of Prythian. And the people along The Wall need to be warned that Jurian is coming."
"Tell us about Jurian," Cassian said, totally ignoring my request. "Do you know what he's planning?"
"Certainly," I said dryly. "He kept me, a human, looped in to all his schemes." I shocked myself with my own sass, directed towards a faerie. Jurian and Hybick would have beat me for that one, at the very least.
Cassian rolled his eyes and I looked back at Rhysand. "Can someone arrange my travel back to the Mortal Realm?"
"Tomorrow," he said. "I have more questions for you, but I think it would benefit us all to resume this conversation tomorrow." Before I could protest he said, "Cerridwin, Nuala," and suddenly two dark skinned fae appeared behind him, as if stepping out of the shadows. "Please show Dellia to the guest rooms and allow her anything she asks."
I decided in that moment that it was best not to argue when the chance of getting my way was so slim. He promised tomorrow, and I'd hold him to it. Rhysand stood up as I did, and said, "Have a good rest, Dellia."
After the handmaids Cerridwin and Nuala escorted me to my large, beautiful rooms, they ran a hot bath and laid out sleeping clothes for me.
"We can wash and repair your clothes for you," Nuala said, "And they'll be ready for tomorrow. Or we have clean clothes for you in the dresser."
"Please call for us if you need anything," Cerridwin said, and then they vanished.
I'll never get used to that.
When I stripped off my old clothes, it felt like I was a snake shedding my own skin. I hadn't washed my clothes in 3 months, and they were stiff with sweat and dirt and grime and dried blood. There were holes in the armpits and the elbows and knees. My riding pants and tunic would need a lot of help, good luck to those handmaids.
The bath was a delight, but I did not stay in there long. The water immediately ran dark with all the disgusting things that coated me after months under Jurian's control. I couldn't linger in there. But the sleeping clothes were the nicest silk, and the bed was cool and soft as a cloud. I think I immediately drifted off, as soon as my head touched the pillow.