Angels Grave

~ Chapter 14 ~

The island was desolate.

Zhysa grimaced as she saw all of the dead trees, animal bones and rocky landscape. It was as if the life had been sucked out itself. And she supposed it had, with the amount of evil that resided beneath its rock. She shivered as a particularly cold southern wind blew through.

She glanced at the fae beside her. Rhysand and Feyre were engaged in a conversation of Amren, Rhysand's second. It was a dreary subject. Something that Zhysa had partially known due to the knowledge of the ancient library.

She would much rather be in Velaris at the moment, like the past few days. Simply walking around, talking to locals and sitting in that little library in the Palace area. She had returned yesterday to speak to Azaka and eventually his mother had kicked them both out, saying that they needed to do something other than sit in her shop.

So Zhysa asked where to find the best jewels, so she could add them to the communication device for Helion, and they had eventually settled on a decently sized deeply orange sunstone. It was beautiful, not completely shaped and held a little of that charming natural roughness.

And now she was back here. Risking her life, once again.

She watched as Rhysand stepped forward and placed his hands on the stone. The stone turned into white gates and once she looked closer she realized it was bone. Gates of Bone. They all entered, wary of the cold and cruel power that leaked from inside.

Heavy breathing came from Zhysa's left and she realized that Feyre was starting to panic and gripped Rhysand's hand with a frightening intensity. He whispered, comforting her and Zhysa tried to dispel her gaze away from them.

"Where are the guards?" Feyre squeaked out. Rhysand squeezed her hand in comfort and responded. "They dwell within the rock of the mountain. They only emerge at feeding time or to deal with restless prisoners. They are nothing but shadows of thought and an ancient spell"

Small lights had started appearing, sending the shadows from the cracks in the walls. It was dead silent too so the nervous breathing of Feyre became all the more obvious.

"Do all High Lords have access?" Zhysa turned her head and awaited the answer. She didn't know whether they could either.

"No. The Prison is a law unto itself; the island may even me the eighth court. But it falls under my jurisdiction, and my blood is keyed to the gates" Zhysa wondered whether it would allow her to enter without Rhysands permission.

"Could you free the inmates?" Feyre's voice was still so quiet.

"No. Once the sentence is given and a prisoner passes those gates ... They belong to the Prison. It will never let them out. I take sentencing people here very seriously"

Zhysa shuddered as they walked deeper, deeper into the roots of the Prison. She could sense him now, that ancient power, otherworldly power. She wondered if she asked him of his world if he would answer.

Rhysand put his hands on another door, made of stone and it rippled. Ivory appeared, carved with countless images of flora, fauna, seas and clouds, suns and moons and everything in between.

An ancient voice echoed in the doorway, eerily familiar.

They walked in and Zhysa stumbled as she saw a face she never thought she would see again. It was Nikolai. The mercenary that had raised her. And the human she had gotten killed. Feyre sent her a concerned glance, as did Rhysand.

"Come inside"

"It's been an age, since something new was born into this world" The fake Nikolai's image had started to flicker now, darkness looming underneath as if to hide what truly hid under the Bone Carver's mask. She realized that what she saw was a glamour and most likely she and the others were looking at completely different images. Something that intricate would have taken millennia to learn.