CHAPTER VIII

The front gates of Athelwood loomed before her as Mor eased her horse to a slower pace.

She immediately left after their meeting in Velaris, saying something about needing to take care of some important things before leaving again for work when asked by Cassian why she was in such a rush. It wasn't entirely a lie.

She left her mare in the stables then proceeded to the back door of the estate. The smell of garlic bread and roasted chicken greeted her as she walked over to the kitchen.

"Are you cooking?" she gushed at the female who had her face in front of the oven. "Careful, you'll burn your nose."

The woman whipped her head to her and gave her a wide smile.

She felt bad for having to leave her again on her own – alone in this house. They've only been together for a few months after meeting each other during the height of the war with Hybern. She was the mortal girl who was rescued by Feyre and Azriel at the enemy's camp when they retrieved Elain. The two of them somehow bonded before the humans were sent back to their lands. She thought it was just one of her brief affairs but after days of finding herself longing for the woman, she went and asked her if she wanted to stay with her at the Faerie lands.

Her happiness was beyond measure when she said yes. Only to be thwarted by her having to go do the job Rhysand asked her to do. Not feeling quite ready yet to tell her friends about Briar, she decided to let her stay in her secret estate for the meantime.

"I know that look," said Briar as she placed the cooked chicken on the table. Setting the plates, she motioned for Mor to seat down. "I'm going to be fine here. I know you're doing your best to make this world a better place for us. I understand. I also want to have that peace, that freedom to live with each other in harmony." She reached over to grab her hand. "For you and me."

Mor squeezed her hand back and tried to blink away the tears forming in her eyes.

Soon.


The sound of dried leaves and twigs crunching under their boots echoed through the empty forest as Zivia and Azriel made their way to the mortal side of the Continent.

After winnowing and flying through the journey, they decided to land in one of the dense forests lining the edge of where once the Wall stood and trek from there. Azriel said that even though the danger had somehow dwindled after the war, humans here are still wary and watchful and going through on foot would be their safest option. She suggested concealing both of them with her magic until they reach their destination, but the spymaster insisted they both needed to preserve their strength for any untoward emergencies. Besides, he said it would be extremely suspicious if the two of them just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the city.

It took them half the day to reach the edge of the forest just before the clearing, and they settled in farthest the city border as the sun dipped in the horizon.

"We'll spend the night here," said Azriel as he surveyed the surroundings. "It will take us another day to reach the center of the town." He turned to her. "Think you could throw an illusion to make us invisible?"

"There isn't much light to manipulate at this hour. It won't be as effective during the day." She'll try her best though. She couldn't be that useless at the very beginning of this mission.

But the shadowsinger just inclined his head and said, "I figured as much".

He then stretched out his hand and swirls of shadows eddied around them like ink in water, concealing them from any prying eyes that were present or any that would find themselves lost on this part of the forest in the middle of the night.

Her brows drew together in slight embarrassment. "Why then ask if you knew…"

He just shrugged in reply. Ignoring him, she threw an air shield around to suppress whatever noise that could reveal their presence, and pulled out a tent she kept hidden in a pocket realm. Azriel was looking at her with a mild surprise on his face.

"I thought it'd be useful one day," she grinned. "Well, what do you know!"

Together, they set the tent up, stepping back to look at their work after they finished. The shadowsinger had his face drawn in a tight frown as he looked at their would-be shelter that is visibly too small for two people, especially with wings. Before he could voice out his concern, she took him by the hand and dragged him inside. His protest died on his lips as he took in what was before them.

Outside, the tent looked like it could barely contain the two of them, but inside, with its considerable space, it was fit to accommodate at most five people inside.

"How?" Azriel breathed as he looked at her.

It was then that she realized that she was still holding his hand, his scars rough on her palm. She quickly dropped it and made an awkward gesture of showing off the tent with her hands, suddenly feeling the need to do something with them.

"It was made by a faerie fabricator back in our island. He always had a knack for creating enchanted objects."

She went on to get more blankets from her magical storage place and laid it out on the ground before setting herself down.

"Make yourself feel cozy." She gestured at the blankets.

Azriel was eyeing her with an amused look as he stepped further into their camp. "I don't suppose you have anything else tucked away in this pocket realm of yours?"

"Ah!"

She held up a finger to him and proceeded to pull out loaves of bread, cheese and a large bottle of wine. "Saves us the effort of having to hunt for dinner."

For a moment, he just stood there staring blankly at her. A small sound escaped from him before he bursted out with full on laughter. She didn't know what to make of it so she just held on to the food and the wine, looking like an idiot. Azriel slumped down across from her and grabbed a slice of cheese, twirling it around his fingers.

"You're wonderfully weird, you know," he said then plopped the cheese into his mouth.

She ducked her head to hide the redness blooming on her cheeks. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment."

It took a lot more than she wanted for her to meet his gaze. How unnerving it was to sit so close to this male and though she didn't want to admit it, she kind of liked it.

Mother above Zivia, get it together!

She averted her eyes, mentally slapping herself for having such useless thoughts. She reached for the bread just as Azriel reached for one too. Their fingers collided and it was an unknown instinct that made her pull her hand back quickly.

"Sorry. Take it."

Her eyes snagged onto his scarred hands that were partially covered by his gauntlet and that blue crystal thing atop it. She recognized those marks the first time she saw them upon their first meeting at the House of Wind, but held back in asking about it for the mere fact that it was too personal to ask. And she wasn't going to snoop into other's personal lives because she knows all too well what that kind of scars were exactly.

She haven't realized she'd been staring when Azriel spoke, setting down the wine he was drinking and holding up one of his hands, palms away from her to give her a better view of the crystal.

"They're called Siphons. They help us concentrate our powers in battle."

She gave a slow nod of her head, like a child understanding some complicated thing for the very first time.

"But that's not what you were wondering about, were you?"

She tensed as she held his gaze for a moment, and then deadpanned, "Where can I get one?"

It wasn't what he was expecting her to say as he was taken aback by her question. She stretched out her legs in front of her, not breaking eye contact as she grinned at him. "I think it'll look good on me. What do you think?"

He squinted at her, obviously noticing the way she evaded his question. He knew what she really was looking at but she couldn't bring herself venturing into that topic. It was a too private matter for both of them.

"You can't"

She feigned a disappointed look. "Why not?"

"It looks better on us Illyrians."

It was impossible to miss the smirk that flashed across his lips.

"That's not fair! You already look pretty enough even without it."

"So do you."

Her blush was instant but she ignored it. "So you think I'm pretty?"

"That's not what I said."

"I'm going to assume that's what you meant."

He shook his head even as the smile continued tugging on his lips as he gobbled down his bread and wine. It was an awkward turn of events but both of them didn't mind much of it – seemed to enjoy it even.

They finished the rest of their dinner before settling down on their own blankets to sleep.

They were awake before the sun had shown its first light and continued on their journey. When the trees finally gave way to roads with signs of human activity, Zivia threw the illusion around them. They were to pose as a pair of travelers going around the continent in search of good trades. From there, they will gather as much information as they could regarding the state of each kingdom before deciding which one would be the easiest to persuade to their cause.

It was an hour past noon when they arrived at the village. It was a busy day; people were meandering around the square, vendors scattered everywhere, some going so far as walking up to people to offer their goods. She did a mental check to see if their illusion is still intact, just to be sure.

They were busy looking around when a particular merchant snuck up on them.

"Greetings wayfarers." The old man's voice was thick with accent and he spoke with such raspness Zivia wondered if he had been shouting for customers the whole day. "May I bother you for a minute? I have goods that you might want."

He reached into his pouch, his wrinkled fingers fumbling with the knots, and pulled out something bulky. It was covered with sooth-stained cloth and by the shape and sound of it, she made a good guess of what he might be selling.

"Weapons," he said, parting the cloth to reveal stash of knives and daggers. "Made with ash woods."

Azriel was beside her in an instant, slightly blocking her from the vendor with his body.

"Sorry, we have no interest in weapons," he said a little too coldly.

The merchant blinked but extended his hands more to them. "You might need it, especially now they are already among us!"

The collapse of the Wall undeniably made these people cautious. She didn't even know if the weapons were indeed made of real ash woods or just a sham to entice more buyers, but they weren't going to figure that out for themselves.

"We're…fine." She shook her head to the old man and turned to go on their way.

"I haven't seen you around here," the vendor blurted, making them stop. They looked back to see him eyeing them suspiciously.

"We're travelers," Azriel said before she could open her mouth. "From Scythia."

They waited. If the old man doubted them, this could all turn out bad, and she prepared herself just in case he decided to use those weapons on them, fake or not. Azriel seemed to think the same, bracing himself if they needed to make a run for it.

But the old man just gave them a crooked smile and inclined his head as he reached into his pouch again and handed them apples.

"A welcome gift," he said. "May you find our city welcoming enough for you." He sketched a bow before drifting off to find another probable customer.

After rounding the market place for about an hour, they were finally able to find an inn that was cheap enough and comfortable enough for them both. By night, they found themselves seated in a corner of the village tavern, people around drinking shots and dancing along the music created by a small band at the center of the room.

Perfect.

In this kind of place, conversations flow freely and with it, information.

"That woman has been staring at you for a while now," she said as she took a sip from her glass.

Azriel turned to where she gestured and saw a lady from the bar staring back at them, twirling her hair in her fingers as she bit her lip.

"Go talk to her."

They both exchanged a knowing look before he rose from his seat and declared, "I'll get a refill."

She eyed the woman who was now greedily smiling at the shadowsinger, her cheeks were tinged bright red, clearly inebriated from alcohol. Good. Drunken people were most likely to tattle, especially drunk ladies who were looking for someone to flirt with.

A group of males strutted into the bar led by a tall muscular man with hair cut so short, he was almost bald. He looked around the room, ordering his friends to get drinks when he spotted her.

"What's a pretty lady doing alone, drinking by herself here?" he said in a gruff voice when he reached her table. "You look like you needed some company." Without invitation, he settled himself down on a seat beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders as he did.

"Somebody get us a drink here!" he shouted over his shoulder.

There was such authority in his voice that made Zivia think that he's more than just a regular patron of this tavern. She turned to see Azriel looking at them with an unreadable face before the woman grabbed him by his chin and leaned in for a kiss. She snapped her attention back at the male beside her, a glass already on his hand.

"You don't look familiar," he told her, downing his drink in one gulp. "Are you a new recruit?"

Recruit?

"Oh." Understanding dawned on her. "No. I'm not."

She shifted on her seat, angling herself to prevent his arm coming in contact with her hidden wings. Also, she was starting to feel uncomfortable around him and his smell was starting to become unbearable too.

Smiling at him, she said, "I'm just a wanderer having some great time in this city."

The man's grin turned wolfish as he inched closer and placed a hand on top of her knee. "I know a place where you can wander and have your greatest time in this city."

It took everything from her to restrain herself from crushing the man's lungs on the spot when he slid his hand up her thighs.

"Yeah?"

"I live not far from here." He continued moving closer to stroke her hair. "My father is out for his faerie hunt so he won't be home for tonight. We'll have the place all to ourselves."

She planted her hands in his chest, pushing him away slightly.

"Faeries?"

His brows rose at her question. "You must not know. There are talks of those creatures crossing over the border after the wall collapsed." He leaned in as if to speak something that must only be kept between the two of them. "My father and his men are en route to Liria to discuss about what to do with them."

She gulped as she pondered that information in her head. Could he be talking about a council meeting?

"You seem to be interested in faeries," he mumbled in her ear. "Come with me and I'll talk to you more about them in bed."

Then he suddenly slid his hand in between her legs.

Glasses shattered and furnitures were overturned as she shoved the man away so hard, he was thrown halfway across the room and fell flat onto the floor. She was so sure she'd kill him right then and there when Azriel put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her before she could reveal their identity to everyone on the tavern. Her anger simmered down even as the man stood up and faced the Illyrian.

"Fuck off man!" he spat into his face. "She's mine."

Azriel remained stoic as he pulled Zivia away from him. "She's nobody's."

The man's face turned livid and he flexed his muscles readying for combat. "Why don't we settle this in a fight, huh? Come on!" He motioned for Azriel but the shadowsinger remained still, not moving an inch from where he stood.

"Stop this," she cautioned as she stepped in between them.

"What? You choose this wack over someone like me?" he sneered.

A dozen retort sprang into her mind but she held them back. "Careful, you're talking about my brother."

She felt both their surprise as the man slowly lowered his fists and looked at her, then to Azriel. Both of them wore the same expression.

Everyone's attention was towards them now, drawn by the scuffle.

"Let's go."

Azriel let her drag him away from the scene they've created but before they could leave, she let his illusion drop just for the man to see what was hidden behind that glamour. She took satisfaction in seeing him stumble back, eyes widening at what he saw. He rubbed his eyes as if it would clear away whatever hallucination he'd had and when he looked back at them, she slammed the door in his face and away they went into the night.

They left the village early morning the next day after piecing together the information they gathered. She also found out that the jackass from the tavern last night was a baron's son.

"Rumor is that the lords of some cities in the continent were to converge to talk about plans after the collapse of the wall."

Zivia glanced at the spymaster beside her. She wondered whether he got that information from the bar lady or from his agents around the continent, though he already told her that his network of spies were also lying low after the war. Either way, they got what they needed.

"Do you think the queens were involved in this?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

The territory of Liria would be weeks of trekking away from where they are so they decided to go to a place where large amounts of trades were exchanged and try to hitch a ride in one of the dealers' carriage. After deeming their surrounding safe enough, they flew through a mountain range that they needed to cross to arrive at the next village, with an illusion cast over them for precaution. As they reached the peak of the mountains, a strong rainstorm impeded their flight and they had to land down to look for temporary shelter.

Completely soaked and shivering, they were able to find a cave carved on the base of one of the stone mountains. They were both dripping wet from the rain and teeth chattering from the cold so Zivia threw a wall of air around the cave entrance to prevent any more wind and rain from entering and possibly freeze them to death. She shook off the water from her hair and wings before sending waves of air to dry their clothes.

It was starting to get dark outside but there was no sign of the storm from stopping any time soon. They're going to have to stay the night here.

The cold didn't budge despite the barrier and there wasn't enough dry wood inside for them to start a fire. She remembered the blankets she stashed inside her magical storage and pulled them out and made makeshift beds for both of them. When the darkness has deepened into their cave, she summoned a ball of light from her palms to illuminate and warm them.

"What do you think Mor is doing now?" she asked as she pulled out the apples that were given to them from her pouch then tossed one to Azriel. It wasn't much but they'll have to do for dinner.

"Probably getting drunk in one of the kingdoms' cellars," he said flatly, taking a bite of his fruit.

Not this topic then.

Silence stretched between them as the wind continued howling outside their little reprieve. She glanced at the shadowsinger who was now partly nestled in his blankets, basking in the warmth of her light. He was in deep thought as he nibbled on the remains of the apple and she wondered whether he was thinking about Mor. She shuffled in her own covers and let the lights dim a little. The rain splattered in a steady beat and it was that sound that finally lulled her to sleep.

In her dream, she was flying, high above the clouds. The setting sun warm against her cheeks – it was a beautiful feeling and she closed her eyes.

But the wind suddenly stopped blowing and then she was falling. She reached out a hand but there was nothing to hold on to.

She was slipping…slipping…and falling into a dark chasm below her.

She jerked awake, panting and drenched in sweat. Azriel was beside her instantly, holding her steady by the shoulders.

"Something's wrong," she gasped, trying to get her breaths even. She felt it. She looked at him as she wrapped her arms around her body and repeated her words to him. "Something's wrong."

"It's the apples," he said with a hint of rage in his voice. "They're laced with faebane."

Her hands trembled as she tried summoning her magic, but there was nothing. It was a complete void inside of her and no matter how much she tried, nothing responded to her calls. Azriel reached for her arm, willing her to look at him.

"Don't worry, it's only temporary." His voice was so soothing it almost made her want to bury her face in his chest and cry just to ease the hollowness she felt inside. She managed to give him a terse nod.

There was never a time when she was without her powers and it scared her to death of the possibility that one day it would happen to her.

It's only temporary, she reminded herself.

She looked back at him and noticed how calmly he was handling this situation. There are worse pains to have. His scars made her remember that.

Finally calming herself with that thought, she pushed off the blankets and went to stand at the mouth of the cave. The rain had stopped and the trees and grass were glistening like diamonds under the morning sun.

"What do we do now?"

"We stay, until the effects wear out and we get our powers back. It would be too dangerous out there to continue our journey."

Huffing a sigh, she muttered, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She turned around, wringing her hands in front of her. "I shouldn't have taken those apples."

"It's not your fault," Azriel replied. "I noticed that old man was a little bit sketchy. I should've known better."

She frowned. It was not fair that he'd be taking this up as his fault.

"No. I shouldn't have offered them to you."

"I shouldn't have let you eat them."

"Stop it. This was clearly my fault! And you can't tell me otherwise."

Hoping to cement her point, she crossed her arms and gave him a look that dared him to contradict her.

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands up in defense. "It's both our fault." A smile tugged at his lips as he started shaking his head. "I can't believe we're having this argument right now."

She took a deep breath and hoped he didn't notice. It was weird how he could get any more attractive than he already is with just a simple gesture like that.

"You should do that more often."

"Do what?" His brows slightly furrowed but he was still smiling.

"Smile. It suits you."

Color bloomed on his cheeks and he quickly turned to hide it.

By the Cauldron, did she just made him blush?

But apparently, it had the same effect on her as she felt heat rush through her body. She scratched her nose, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

But it's true… an inner voice told her as she settled back into her blankets and waited out the day.

The sky was already turning purplish but there was still no sign of her powers coming back. Not even a speck of it. She was starting to panic, dreadful that it would be gone for good.

It's only temporary…it's only temporary…

She kept repeating those words in her head hoping to ease her building fear.

Azriel was gone too look for food. Needless to say, she started another petty argument about whose going. She insisted that she wasn't that hungry and that they should wait a little longer in hopes that maybe the effects of the faebane would wear out soon enough.

It was a well past the afternoon when her stomach decided to demonstrate a whale's mating call prompting Azriel to finally go despite their powers not returning yet.

She stepped out of the cave and looked far past the trees but found no sign of the shadowsinger. Her hunger has already subsided but she was getting restless. Just as she was about to go back, she noticed a tiny orb of light among the bushes. It danced around the air before wisping away into the woods. She looked back to see if Azriel have returned but when she didn't see him, she went and followed the creature of light.

She arrived at a meadow not far from their cave. It was dark now; the clouds in the sky giving way to the stars and moon, which glowed in a way that painted the grass silver. The orb of light was gone.

Steps sounded behind her and she turned to see the shadowsinger standing a few feet away.

"You almost scared me," she snapped at him.

"Did I now?" he said as he walked towards her. "I came back to find you missing. What are you doing here?"

"Nothing," she replied when he stopped an arm's length away. "I just saw something but then it was gone and –"

She gasped. Behind Azriel, the orb of light suddenly appeared – hundreds of them actually – among the pastures.

"Fire sprites," she breathed as she stepped closer to them.

A breeze of wind blew and she turned to see everything punctuated with thousands of glimmering lights – from the grass on their feet to the leaves up in the trees. They were everywhere, radiating such beautiful red and golden colors that made the forest look enchanted.

She looked back at Azriel. He had his hands open before him, an invitation for the creatures to come to him. A dozen had already gathered on his palms, their light gilding his face in a warm glow and his eyes glinted with puerile fascination.

She couldn't help smiling. "Aren't they beautiful?"

A rogue one twirled around his head before burrowing itself in his hair. Azriel grabbled through his head trying to catch the pesky creature and she stifled a laugh before marching towards him.

"Here, let me help."

As she was reaching her hand, the sprites suddenly scuffled away plunging them into darkness. There were sounds of rustling among the trees and bushes around them. Azriel grabbed her by the arm and pulled her before stopping short. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she noticed shadows among the branches – outlines of men among the shrubs.

They were surrounded.