"Rhys!" Renae shouts repeatedly down the halls.
Atop that round table, my hands travelled comfortably across Renae's face- her body. My mind completely at ease with no thoughts of the bond or fate ruining it. We almost went too far before I started feeling slightly uncomfortable and not at all prepared for it.
Renae seemed fine with stopping so far into it, but I got the sense she was slightly frustrated which I hope is mainly because of Rhysand's decision to keep the two of us in the Night court whilst everybody storms into Montsere blindly to find the kidnapped humans and return them safely.
Renae follows her instincts perfectly to track down the High Lord and flies inside a room without hesitation, which I follow afterward like a little duckling.
We end up inside Rhys and Feyre's bedroom which seems a little too private for a newbie like myself to waltz into uninvited. However, Renae doesn't seem to mind interrupting and the High Lord and Lady have all of their attention on the flustered, slender female before them.
"I know every bit of that land and it's buildings like the back of my hand and I can get every one of your soldiers in and out without a trace," she begins and Rhys raises a hand to stop her but his second just ploughs through the silent order, "the fact you would keep me here instead of using me as a tool in this hopeless plan is ridiculous."
"Are you done?" He tries to intervene.
"Not at all. Marching into their lands without a decent plan, or a map of the territory or any better way out that flying is worse than a death wish."
"Renae-"
"You'll regret keeping me here once you start a war with them or lose your soldiers of more human lives to them or perhaps lose the trust of what little humans you have left-"
"If you'd let me speak- are you done?"
"No- well, yes."
"You can comes. Get ready, we set of at sunset." She nods, showing no sign of her satisfaction, and turns to leave the room.
"Just for future reference, when should I have stopped?"
"You had me on board at you being a tool." Feyre and I snort an unexpected laugh and Rhys smirks at his smart-ass comment.
Renae only nods a single time and continues to leave the room which I again follow behind.
We spend the rest of the day running through the city to gather fae and weapons of all forms- taking extra precautions if the worst happens tonight. Renae spends the day with Rhys, Feyre and the human protectors in hopes of coming up with a fool-proof plan that pleases each of them. I wished her luck before she left, knowing full well that particular group of people would drive her mad given the chance.
As effective as Renae was with convincing Rhys to let her tag along to Montesere, he wasn't however, willing to let me join. I was fine with his plan of having me stay and help (yet again) heal the humans in the camp. Renae wasn't thrilled about the plan. Rhys won that battle.
So whilst everybody in the court gathered weapons for Montesere, I gathered my usual healing supplies to winnow into the main human camp.
Three of the four camps were burnt to ash by Iagan and Ginerva, leaving the main camp (and the biggest) unscathed. Despite its size, the main camp is apparently struggling to fit the extra inhabitants.
Winnowing into the centre of the main camp was a bit mistake– the second my feet feel the ground form beneath them, the bustling crowds of injured and dying humans carried on blankets or in bags or hidden beneath sheets all being carried by healers and other helping fae.
The mud beneath our feet turned to unstable mush causing more accidents. Blood coating practically every surface from the ground to the entrances of every tent. The cream sheets stained with the blacks, browns and reds of human blood. The screams were almost as painful to endure than the smell that clung to my nostrils.
Thick plumes of smoke rose in the distance, at first I think it might be a fire caused by Iagan and Ginerva, but it doesn't take long to remember they never touched this camp and that the fire is for a different purpose. It's far enough away that you'd think its smell wouldn't reach the camp. I try to avert my attention to something else and avoid thinking about the fire in the distance, burning the flesh of lost souls and clearing space for more humans.
I hesitate for a few more moments, taking in the carnage left by the Montesere warriors. I stop and let the pained faces of the helpless wounded chip away pieces of my heart whilst I stand completely healthy and unharmed. Privileged.
I make a promise to not pressure any human to accept my help. As Rhys said last time, the people who won't accept my help don't deserve to waste my time.
Finally moving my feet, the crowd pushing me off course a few times, I head toward the largest tent- the healer's tent.
~Renae~
The sun finally touches the horizon and Lucien runs into the room announcing the news and in no time at all, the Illyrian warriors and helping fae take to the skies.
We fly low to the waters so as not to alert any Montesere guards watching the borders.
Convincing Rhys to let me come along was easy enough, but trying to get Alirra to also join, not so easy. I tried the whole 'she can heal the kidnapped humans' and he liked the idea enough to ask another healer to join. Ali, though, had to stay in the main human camp considering she's 'the best healer he has'.
I soon dropped the case, after throwing a child-like tantrum, and returned to the main task at hand which was running through every possible fault in the plan and coming up with a way to avoid it.
I promised Rhys I knew the Montesere lands like the back of my hand and he trusts me, I can't let him down. So I guide the Night court fae through the skies skilfully enough to keep them hidden so we can land on its borders.
Reaching my parents house was a breeze- getting inside their barriers made my heart pound in my ears. They have every right to kill us if we're caught and every right to make my death extra painful for returning twice after being banned. I don't fear death ; I do fear dying too soon- if that's any different, you can decide. Dying by the hands of my parents is another fear entirely.
Montesere's borders have magic from stopping intruders. A wall that they only remove for events like the ball with the Night court. You could say my parents aren't exactly open to the idea of visitors. However, this wall happens to be something only Montesere ruler descendants and family by blood can control.
It takes quite a bit of my energy to open a gap in their wall large enough for each warrior to walk through, flying would be too out-in-the-open, but I don't let a single person see its effects. The breach in the barrier hopefully won't alert Iagan or Ginerva, perhaps the whole blood thing will prevent that. This was a worry of mine I didn't want Rhys to know about. Letting him believe the plan- my plan- is totally fool-proof is better than letting him over-stress enough to let his guard down.
The Illyrians split into smaller groups- lead by either Rhys, Cas, Feyre, Az or myself- and stumble through the forest that outlines their land. These trees were designed to lose the paths of any intruders that actually managed to get past the powerful border around their house– like I said, not fond of visitors. Luckily for us, my promise about memorising the land is kept and each tree and boulder, that might've had Rhys and his Illyrians stumbling helplessly for days, tells me exactly where I need to go next.
We reach the grey stone walls of my childhood home and my palms begin to sweat and my ears ring from the distractingly loud pounds of my heartbeat. The things that could go wrong, the very things Rhys would be worrying about if I'd told him, are making my mind whirl and vision blur.
I pull myself together best I can as Rhysand's familiar figure appears at my side, questioning my next move.
I turn to the crowd of Illyrians behind me and open my mouth to form my command. My jaw hangs in its position. Anger, guilt and hatred filling me to the core. Rhys turns to see what has me in a state with my hands clenched at my sides and eyes glued above the soldiers.
He tenses instantly beside me and Feyre beside him. I feel like a dog who betrayed his master, for failing at leading Rhys's warriors safely into their lands.
Hovering above the Illyrian heads, as if floating on the starry night herself, Ginerva.
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