Divided (Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses Crossover)

Chapter 20

Connall peered at him curiously, and then replied, "A few more minutes. Our city was originally built on an island, but in recent years, we have expanded to accommodate the growing population." 

"And there we will speak to your Queen?  You said that she would help us return to Prythian," Azriel pressed.

"I said she was your best hope."

As Connall said this, the trees opened up before the party and a massive city made of pale stone came into view. Azriel hated to admit it, but the city on the island rivaled that of Velaris in beauty. Where Velaris was dark, Doranelle was light. The small streams descended into the valley and into the river where it poured over the waterfall. 

Although his Siphons were lacking in their usual glow, his powers as a Shadowsinger still held. There was a shift in the mood of the party. It was altogether lighter, happier. It was how Azriel felt in Velaris. Perhaps if these men loved their home so much, they were not in as much danger as he believed. 

The party rode down the path of the valley and eventually over a great carved stone bridge. There were not any guards. Perhaps the secret of Doranelle kept it safe. The streets were filled with musicians, artists, craftsmen, vendors. The smell of lavender filled the street as they passed the large stall of a herb vendor. 

They finally stopped when they reached what had to be the castle. It reminded Azriel of the house on top of the Court of Nightmares. It was also pale white and open to the elements. He sensed magic coursing through the building as they dismounted. 

Three very tall and muscular males stood at in the entrance way, obviously expecting their arrival. The three men in their own party bowed to them. Nobility, most likely, or special friends of the Queen. Azriel bent into a curt bow of respect. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Tamlin remained upright. Of course he did. 

The tallest of three stepped forward, "None of that now. Come on, you all must be hungry." 

They followed him through the open halls of the palace. In some places, the offshoots of the river moved through the castle. Mosaics adorned the walls of the palace. They walked too quickly for Azriel to study them, but the same handful of characters were depicted on many of them. 

Reaching the Great Hall, the eight of them streamed in and took up various seats around the table. The tall male who had spoken earlier sat at the far end of the table. He had silver hair and bright green eyes. He waved for Tamlin and Azriel to sit next to him. 

When they took their seats, he spoke, "My name is Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius. Welcome to my home."

Tamlin spoke first, eyes narrowed, "I am Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court. This is Azriel, Spymaster and Shadowsinger, of the Night Court. I'm sorry, sir, but we were told that this is a Queendom, yet I see no Queen."

The man surveyed Tamlin for a moment and went on ignoring his comment, "That is Lorcan Salveterre, and Gavriel. You have already met Connall, Ethrial Whitethorn, and my son Galan Whitethorn Galathynius.

"Now, onto more pressing matters. How did you get here?"

Azriel replied, "I have no idea. I was asleep at our campfire one moment, and the next I was out of breath on the ground with one hand cut open looking up at a sky that I don't recognize."

The man Rowan looked at the golden haired man sitting beside Tamlin  who nodded.

"And what do you say happened, Tamlin High Lord of the Spring Court? Did you also just wake up in Doranelle one moment?" Tamlin narrowed his eyes at Rowan's mocking tone.

"I was keeping watch, we were in a very dangerous place, and in the middle of the night, the Shadowsinger rose with his eyes open but unseeing and began walking through the woods. I thought for a few moments that he was going to relieve himself so I stayed back, but he continued to walk further into the woods. We came to a cave, and he walked toward it as if to go in. He took a dagger from his belt and slit his hand and then pressed it into the rocks of the cave's entrance. He drew several marks and then began to chant words in a language I have never heard before. He stopped and then walked through the cave's entrance. I followed him through it, and we landed here and were attacked by your heathens," Tamlin growled.

Rowan looked again at the golden haired man, Gavriel, he remembered who nodded again. The man's eyes traveled to the cobalt Siphon around his neck.

"Are you very much practiced in the use of Wyrdmarks, Azriel?"

"No, sir. I have never heard of Wyrdmarks, and I do not know any other languages either."

"Do you remember any of the words he used in his trance state, Tamlin?" The man nodded.

"Unfortunately, the only living person who knows the language of the Wyrd is my mate, who is not here at the present. I suppose we will have to wait for her return. For now, we shall eat. The two of you have full run of Doranelle, but I would advise you not to run off. My mate will find the two of you very interesting."

Tamlin prodded, "If you don't mind my asking, where is your mate?"

"She's off saving the world, once again," Rowan chuckled to himself.