Crescent City: A Court of Thrones and Glass

Chapter Six: Aelin

      A/N: Thank you to @OnyxWriting for voting! And thanks to everyone for reading, I hope you are enjoying it so far!

     "Uh, Dorian, didn't we make sure to leave that thing in Adarlan?" Aelin asked, worried. But there it was. The Walking Dead. That dreadfully enchanted book that seemed to follow Aelin around the glass castle while she was there. It made no sense how it got here, or why, but it was here, and opened, no less. Aelin carefully approached the opened book, ready to reach for her weapons. Since the war, none of them went anywhere without an arsenal strapped to their bodies. Aelin was in her black assassin suit, that she had recommissioned as soon as she could. Dorian followed close behind.
      "What does it say?" he questioned, his hands ready to direct magic.
      "It's a page on.....travelling between worlds," Aelin stammered. Dorian's eyes widened.
"But I thought....we put the Wyrd keys back in the gate! We sacrificed everything to make sure this could never happen again! You died for it!" He yelled, utterly lost. If it was still possible to travel, Erilea was still at risk! Everything that had happened to them could happen again. Or worse. Aelin examined the page even further.
"According to the book, even if the gates are closed, there are tiny cracks in time and space. An ancient being with a very specific power has the ability to pull people and objects through the cracks, into another world." Aelin read.
"How is that possible?" Dorian asked, incredulous.
"It says that he or she uses an enchanted object to make a connection, then sucks the nearest thing through a sort-of mini portal, which then immediately closes. There is only one such beings known throughout the universe," she continued.
"That still doesn't explain what The Walking Dead is doing here," Dorian questioned. He came closer to the open tome, and reached for the book.
"Dorian! Don't!" Aelin shouted and grabbed his arm, just as Dorian's fingers brushed the top of the page. Suddenly, a swirling black hole opened on top of the paper and pulled the two monarchs into itself.

It was dark, and very cold. That was the first thing Aelin noticed. It felt like a catapult had launched them through water. They were travelling quickly, but there was a little resistance. She could feel her body, but her senses were blind. She could smell nothing, hear nothing, see nothing. Only feel herself hurtling through time and space. Then, the pain started. She was being flattened. Squished and stretched to fit through the cracks in the gate. And it hurt like Hell. All of a sudden, they were falling. Fast. Too fast. And she could see again, her senses had returned. Before she could celebrate, she realized they were going to hit the ground. She looked to her left and saw Dorian throw out a hand, using his magic to slow them down. They landed in the courtyard of the most stunning palace Aelin had ever seen. To her concern, they were surrounded by a group of hostile looking fae. Oh shit, she thought and reached for her trusty daggers. One thing was for sure. They were not in Erilea any more.

ROWAN

Rowan was tidying up his needles and ink. He had done an amazing job of Manon's tattoo. It took a while, but it was worth it. He was hunched over, cleaning the needles with a rag. Suddenly, he felt the mating bond go taught, like it was being stretched impossibly thin. His head snapped up, just as Manon abruptly turned to face him. They locked eyes, panic lacing each movement. With forced calm, Manon said, "We've got a problem."