Chapter 10
Nesta seemed to have a lot on her mind, so Cassian gave her space. But when the next morning, Gwyn, the small priestess, timidly appeared at training, searching for Nesta with her eyes and almost melting by her side, Nesta looked like a child on Winter Solstice receiving the best gift.
"You came," Nesta gasped, taking Gwyn's hands excitedly.
"I trust you, Nes, I trust you," Gwyn told her softly, and Nesta hugged her tightly.
Cassian smiled, happy for Nesta, and was especially careful with Gwyn, keeping his distance from the priestess, who was naturally agile and would undoubtedly soon catch up with Nesta.
-o-o-o-
When Cassian had to return to the Illyrian mountains for his duties, Nesta asked him to take her, and Cassian did so because he understood that Nesta also needed some air. Nesta insisted on going to Emerie's shop when they arrived, so Cassian let her go. Upon entering the shop, Nesta found an unpleasant Illyrian boy clearly bothering the woman.
"Good morning," Nesta interrupted.
"Wait your turn, witch," was the unpleasant response she received from the male.
"We're done here, Bellius," Emerie told him.
"We're done when I say we're done," the male drawled. Nesta stepped forward.
"The lady said you're done here. Now leave quietly, or leave the hard way," Nesta warned him.
"Do you know who I am?"
"A fool, clearly," she said, unimpressed by the two siphons the male wore; Cassian and Azriel used many more. "Get out."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll send you home crying like a nursing baby," Nesta assured him, letting the silver flame shine in her eyes. The man seemed to notice some of Nesta's power because he spat at her feet and left.
"What an unpleasant type," she said with disgust, turning to Emerie once they were alone. "You should kick him out on his pompous ass."
"It's not like I have the strength to do that…" Emerie smiled, tired.
"About that, you see…"
Two hours later, when Cassian came back for Nesta, she announced that Emerie would be joining their training and needed someone to take her to the House of Wind in the mornings. Nesta looked at him so excited and proud of her achievement that Cassian couldn't help but congratulate her, watching her take the praise with amusement.
-o-o-o-
While Gwyn was by far the most graceful of the three during training, Emerie turned out to be the clumsiest and most lacking in balance. Nesta was somewhere in between the two. Cassian explained that it was because of what had been done to her friend's wings, and Nesta felt the urge to kill someone who was already dead: Emerie's father. Cassian understood her because he had that same impulse.
That night, Nesta insisted on a girls' sleepover—just Gwyn, Emerie, and her. This time, Cassian stayed in his room, locked inside, but he could hear the laughter of the three women until late into the night. They danced, laughed, and exchanged opinions on their favorite novels, promising to lend each other books. Apparently, all three were avid readers. Not that Cassian was paying special attention to the sound... well, he was.
-o-o-o-
"Cassian," the male looked up at Nesta while they were having dinner. "Do you know when Vanserra will come?"
"Soon," he said, setting aside his food to look at her. Nesta nodded, visibly uncomfortable.
"When... we go to find the treasure, right?"
"Yes..."
"Good, I... have a request... you… could have someone make this for me," she whispered, handing him a piece of paper. "I don't like being unarmed," she confessed. In this world, she wouldn't be able to get a taser or a Glock, so she had racked her brain to come up with an alternative. A bow was out of the question; it actually required a lot of strength to draw and use one, and it was tiring—she knew. She had tried archery in high school club... it didn't go well. But then she remembered crossbows. She had used one a few times at the Renaissance fairs she liked to go to when she was younger.
She looked nervously as Cassian examined the sheet she handed him. There were three designs: one for a crossbow, another for a baseball bat—because she was good with one—and the last was, in fact, just pepper spray.
"Do you think they're feasible?" she asked in a nervous whisper, unsure if they could actually be made with the little she knew about blueprints.
"I think it needs a little work, but honestly... this is pretty impressive, Nesta," Cassian looked at her truly impressed and wide-eyed, nodding. The oddly shaped bat was something very basic, but the drawing of what Nesta labeled as a crossbow and the pepper spray was really clever for women. It was something that even someone who wasn't a warrior could use: for the first, you'd only need minimal aim, and for the second... nothing, just to squeeze it. And it was ridiculously simple. Water and pepper—that must burn like hell if it got into your eyes.
"Where did you get this idea, Nes?" he asked, amazed.
"Just things I imagined," Nesta whispered, blushing at her lie.
-o-o-o-
The day that Roslin, Deirdre, and Ananke, three other priestesses, joined the training, Cassian had to admit he was impressed. Nesta drew people in, making them gravitate toward her in a way that no one in the circle had ever noticed before. It was obvious that these women trusted in Nesta's strength; they had come because they believed she could protect them from Cassian and anyone else while they learned to defend themselves. And they believed it with blind faith. Cassian could see it in the way they looked at Nesta, in how they gravitated toward her.
-o-o-o-
And then Lucien arrived, the final requirement Nesta needed for the divination. Cassian stayed close to her. He watched as Nesta looked toward Elain, who was seated next to Lucien. The tall red-haired fae nodded toward Nesta, his hand resting on the dagger at his waist, assuring her that Elain would be fine. Azriel stood off to the side, his shadows swirling around him. Rhysand, standing beside Feyre, also nodded toward Nesta, and she returned the gesture. Amren was the closest to them. And then Nesta began the divination...
It was… Cassian had never seen anything like it, what Nesta became when she divined. It was beautiful—beautiful and terrifying.
That being of immense power looked toward Cassian, lost.
"It's all right, Nes, everything is fine, let it go," he spoke softly, without fear, stepping closer, cupping her face in his hands, and kissing her. Nesta blinked, as if she was finally seeing Cassian, as if she realized where she was, and released the dice and bones over the map. When no one else spoke, not even a worried Elain or Feyre, when not even Rhysand could enter her mind, she listened to Cassian.
"Interesting," Amren murmured, looking at the map. They all looked at it. Nesta had just revealed the location of the first of the death treasures: the Swamp of Oorid.
-o-o-o-
"I should go with you," Rhys whispered.
"No," Nesta shook her head. "I don't want you with us. You're more useful looking after my sisters. Besides, I don't like you; you make me uncomfortable," she reminded him firmly. "Azriel and Cassian will come with me," she assured him.
"I should be the one going with you," Feyre insisted, concerned.
"You're pregnant, don't get any funny ideas," Nesta warned her.
"This isn't a good idea, you haven't trained enough, Nesta."
"I have my new weapons," Nesta smiled, with a bat strapped to her back, a crossbow on one side, with ammunition on the other, and pepper spray on her belt.
"I would've liked to test them first," Cassian muttered, looking at the weapons.
"We'll be fine. Besides, they're just a last resort. You and Azriel will be there, so I shouldn't even need them," Nesta assured him confidently.
Feyre sighed and spoke to her a little more, as did Rhys. Nesta nodded calmly, promising to return, and then the three of them set off for Oorid.
-o-o-o-
First, Azriel fell. Then Cassian left her up in a tree and went to rescue him. But in that silent, terrifying place, the man didn't return. Nesta tried to wait, she really did, but the place only set her nerves on edge; her skin tingled as if something wanted to crawl out of her. So, she did what would make her scream at her TV screen because it was exactly what a fool in a horror movie would do—climb down from the tree. In a less than dignified and graceful way, more desperate, as she imagined the worst scenarios, including Azriel and Cassian agonizing in some ditch in that cursed place. But at least no one was there to see her. She'd never been a combat medic, but she supposed it was never too late to become one.
Once on the ground, she looked around stupidly, not knowing what to do. She didn't have a pair of wings like the two Illyrian males, so her only option was to continue on foot. The swamp stretched on for miles: black water, dead trees, and dead grass, like a cheap horror movie set.
She'd have to wade through the water if she wanted to reach the other side and search for Cassian and Azriel.
"I'm sure stepping into black water that's clearly breeding all kinds of deadly pathogens is the worst idea I've ever had, and believe me, I've had some bad ideas in my life," she muttered to herself, feeling a knot in her stomach. But imagining Cassian injured and dying... and Azriel too... that vision was even worse than the thought of the filthy waters.
She tried to figure out the shallowest spot, but the water was so black she couldn't see any difference... none at all. At least she could swim, she tried to console herself. It was just a bunch of unsanitary black water.
Summoning her courage, she approached the edge of the black water.
"Be careful."It was like hearing a whisper, but there was no voice, no words; it was more of a feeling.
"It's my conscience," she told herself.
"Be careful, run, run."The feeling grew more urgent, like a motherly voice, though there was no actual voice.
"It's just my damn survival instinct," she convinced herself... Why would someone who technically wasn't alive even need survival instinct? Well, it wasn't something Nesta was going to think about at that moment. Screw her survival instinct. She was Nesta Archeron; she didn't run, she wasn't a coward. Or at least that's what she told herself… until a pair of dark eyes, black as night, stared at her from the black waters, and it wasn't her reflection.
That's as far as her bravery lasted. She backed up so quickly she tripped over her own feet and fell flat on her backside like a bad horror movie heroine as a face emerged from the black water, breaking the surface. It was whiter than bone, definitely male, masculine. He rose from the water inch by inch, with obsidian-black hair so silky it could have been the surface of the water, enormous, completely black eyes, sharp cheekbones, a narrow, long nose… and his mouth, too wide, with sensual lips but far too large. Nails sharp as daggers, like weapons. Then he opened that mouth, which seemed far too big, revealing two rows of rotten teeth like shards of glass, filling his mouth as he grinned.
It was the most horrendous, terrifying, and bizarrely beautiful thing Nesta had ever seen. She was so scared she could've wet herself, and maybe a little pee did escape, but her dignity didn't matter in that moment.
She had no dignity right now, and if she didn't run, she was sure that in a minute she wouldn't have her life either. She scrambled to her feet and ran, heart pounding in her throat... She didn't get far; that thing, that monster, grabbed her by the ankle, making her trip and fall onto the barren ground. The creature... it was a kelpie, it was a damn kelpie, somehow she knew. The creature spoke, but Nesta didn't understand it.
"I don't speak Taka taka, let me go!" she screamed, desperately trying to shove it off. She didn't even remember she had weapons on her, she was too panicked for that.
"Run, run, run."
The voice inside her, which wasn't a voice, that feeling, kept urging her. But Nesta was trying, unsuccessfully; she couldn't break free from the creature. She managed to kick him… in the balls. Apparently, even a damn fantasy creature had balls. Well, Nesta wasn't going to question opportunities, she grabbed her pepper spray and sprayed it all over the creature's face… and it worked just as well as it did on a damn rapist because the creature recoiled, shrieking. She crawled away from him and stood, feeling for her bat until she grasped it. She held it with both hands as firmly as she could, though her hands trembled, feet planted on the ground, and swung it with all her strength, ready to smash his head like a damn watermelon. Her father always said that in a life-or-death situation… better their family cried than yours. So Nesta was more than ready to kill to keep her life. The creature fell to the side, but even with all her strength, its head didn't crack open; it even began to rise again, filled with blind rage.
"To the lake, go to the lake."
Nesta wanted to run the other way, her instincts screamed at her to flee from the lake, but something stronger told her to follow that damn voice in her conscience if she wanted to live. She dropped the bat and ran straight for the water, diving in headfirst. The creature raced after her. She was going to die. The moment the creature caught her and dragged her under the water, she knew without a doubt. The creature pulled her down into the depths at a horrifying speed. It was dark, dark as the void itself. There was nothing, she couldn't see any light, couldn't see anything. She was going to die, she thought in terror. Surrounded by the dead buried in those waters. But then she felt it.
"Call me, I want to go with you, mistress, mistress, I'm here."
This voice was different, maybe just a post-mortem delusion, but Nesta reached out blindly.
"Come, come to me!"
She thought as her lungs screamed desperately for air.
"I order you, come to me!"
She thought fiercely, with the kind of ferocity born only from desperation. And then she felt it, like a flash of gold rushing toward her. The kelpie didn't notice, no one but her could feel it. When the golden disc connected with her fingers, Nesta felt it, she felt it like someone would feel a damn comfort blanket between their fingers, like it was hers, her object of solace, something to make her feel safe. It radiated power… like her own. Then she knew, she knew what she had to do. Even as the kelpie slowed… it was too late for the creature. Nesta had already placed the mask on her face.