Aelin
It had been an age since I'd worn this much steel. Blades were strapped all over me, hidden in my boots, inside pockets, a clever dagger was disguised as a pin in my hair. My own set of Illyrian blades were crossed at my back.
Standing in the House of Wind, I took in the space around me, so full of memories and overwhelming happiness despite my short time spent here. It seems like it had only been yesterday when I'd crash-landed into this Court. Just hours since I'd bonded with my mates. And yet, a lifetime of joy had occurred since that first, fated meeting - more than I ever would have dreamed of experiencing.
And now, my mates stood beside me, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel and Rowan. My loves, my partners. Males who had seen past my hardened exterior, past my broken and withering soul, and somehow seen something worthy. Males who would have been my Kings in another life.
The four of them stood beside Mor, already armed and decked out in the scale-like armor. All of us too quiet, the magnitude of our task a heavy weight on us all.
Amren is watching us with those bottomless orbs, set to remain behind as the last defense of Velaris. A city that would never again see bloodshed, if I had anything to say about it. "The King of Hybern is old, very old. Do not linger," she instructed us.
A voice near my chest whispered, Hello lovely, lying World-Welder.
The two halves of the Book of Breathings were tucked into separate pockets, mocking me with their cruel and clever words. In one of them, the spell I would need was written out clearly - despite the fact I'd already memorized it.
"We'll be back before you have a chance to miss us," Rhys said to his second. "Guard Velaris well."
Amren studied me, eyes roving from the firm set of my feet to the copious weapons adorning my person. "You know what to do," she stated. "May the Cauldron be with you, Firebringer."
I nodded, a thousand words passing between us, unsaid.
I turned to Mor, whose arms were out to winnow me. Cassian would winnow with Rhys while Azriel took Rowan, Rowan and Rhys to be dropped off a few miles from the coast before my Illyrians found Mor and me seconds later.
Before I could move into Mor's arms, Rowan and Rhys stepped forward, faces tense. Darting forward, I pecked them both softly on the lips. I knew they were worried, tension clear as I locked gazes with Rhys.
"I'll be fine - we'll all be fine." I love you, I purred over our bond.
Only you, my Goddess.
His gaze went to Cass and Az, who nodded solemnly. I knew they would protect me with their lives.
Finally, I locked eyes with Rowan, my trainer, my first mate. To whatever end, Fireheart. Let's go rattle the stars.
My lips quirked up into a grin, and I had to blink away the tears that threatened. To whatever end, Buzzard.
I moved into Mor's arms, and she met Rhys's gaze over my shoulder. She nodded to him, "I know my orders."
She gripped my hand, and we were gone.
Gone - and plunging through the open air, the night-dark sea rising us to meet us -
Then warm arms caged my chest, pulling me tight against a broad body. "Easy," Cassian said, banking right. He held me securely, as if I would disappear from his grasp like the mist from the sea. There was no sign or glimmer of Rhys or Rowan, and I only caught a glance of Mor as she winnowed away again into nothing.
A few yards ahead, Azriel was a swift shadow as we rapidly neared the landmass on the horizon.
Hybern.
Dark and cold as Maeve's eyes. As desolate and depraved as the dungeon beneath the Glass Castle's library. Sucking energy from the air around it as though the land itself was a parasite.
"This place makes the Illyrian war camps feel cozy," Cassian hissed.
I had to agree. A wall of bone-white cliffs arose, their tops flat and grassy, leading away to a terrain of sloping, barren hills. All of it emanates an overwhelming sense of nothingness.
"That's his castle ahead," Cassian said through clenched teeth, swerving.
Built into the cliff itself and perched above the sea was a lean, crumbling castle of white stone. Not the pure, sparkling white of marble, or elegant in any way but .. off-white. The color of bone. A few lights flickered in the windows and balconies - no patrol. We'd arrived during the guard shift, heading towards a small sea door at the bottom of the monstrosity.
Over my heart, the Book cackled, Home - we're going home.
And then I felt the dull, pulsing power. With every foot closer, I could feel the strength of the Cauldron. Ancient - cruel. No allegiance to any but absolute power.
I was silent as we swept closer towards the base of the cliffs. Mor was waiting on the sea door's platform, sword out, door open.
Azriel landed first, swiftly and silently, immediately sending shadows to scout the hall ahead. Mor waited for us as we landed - her eyes on Cassian. They didn't speak, but their glance was too long to be anything but casual. A promise heavy in the air. A promise I prayed I wouldn't make them break.
The passage ahead was dark and silent. Azriel appeared, bloody blade in hand. "Guards are down," his fierce eyes met mine. "Hurry."
Cassian turned to me, pulling me to him to capture my lips in a fierce kiss. His eyes were solemn as he said, "Let's do this Little Warrior. And then go home."
I could only nod jerkily as he turned, leading us into the dark passage. Inhaling a shaky breath, I followed, Mor at my back.
The Cauldron tugged me forward, trying with every breath to haul me into its dark embrace. Cassian and Azriel branched out at each of the passage's crossroads, returning with grim faces and bloodied blades. Every death brought a zing of satisfaction to my soul. One less enemy to contend with, to wreck and butcher my mates, to torment the people of Prythian.
We descended through a dark and ancient dungeon, the smell horrid and familiar. Mor kept at my side, constantly monitoring. The last line of defense. My heart fractured a little more when I realized what her orders were - that if Cassian and Azriel were hurt, she was to make sure I got out - by whatever means necessary.
Down another stairwell, down, down, down -
Each step an eternity as the Cauldron pulled at the Book, at my very life-force.
Long moments later, we emerged into a round chamber beneath the heart of the castle. In the center of the room, atop a small dais, sat the Cauldron.
Home, the Book of Breathings sighed. Home.
Underneath a pulsing ball of faelight, the Cauldron stole my breath from my lungs. It didn't glow, or gleam - no, there was no brightness to be found. Instead it took. It stole the light from its surroundings until it was the only thing you could see. Perhaps the size of a bathtub, it was forged of dark iron, three legs crafted like creeping branches covered in thorns. It was hideous - and alluring.
And it pulsed - a dark aura encompassing the whole room, sucking life from everything around it. I nearly cursed when I felt the full sensation, another piece falling into place.
Mor's face had drained of color. "Hurry," she whispered. "We've got a few minutes."
Azriel and Cassian scanned the room, standing to the side as ever vigilant sentries. Mor remained at my back as I approached, but didn't follow me as I stepped onto the dais. Azriel's eyes were glued to me as I approached, sending a tendril of shadow to caress my arm in silent comfort and support.
Inside, the Cauldron was nothing but inky, swirling black.
Azriel and Cassian tensed as I pulled a sharp dagger free, slicing into my hastily bared forearm. Carefully, so, so carefully, I dipped a finger in the pooling blood, and began tracing wyrdmarks onto the lip of the Cauldron.
And when I first touched it -
Pain - pain and ecstasy and power and weakness flowed into me even as I fought to ignore it. Threatening to overpower my very being.
Reeling back into myself, I traced the mark in blood. Mark after mark I persisted as everything that was and wasn't, fire and ice, light and dark, deluge and drought battled under my skin.
It was the map for creation, and I it's conduit.
An eternity and a blink of an eye had passed by the time I pulled back, panting from exertion. The lip of the Cauldron was covered in blood-painted marks, not yet activated. I allowed myself one last glance at Mor, at Cassian and Azriel, before I prepared to veer away from what they knew to be the plan.
If Amren had paled at this step, I didn't want to know how they would react.
Azriel must have seen something in my gaze, stepping forward as he murmured in warning, "Aelin."
My fingers brushed one half of the Book. The Cauldron purred.
Sweet-tongued liar, Queen of many names -
I pulled out the other half, praying I could do this fast enough - get them out fast enough.
Yes, Aelin of the Wildfire, The Queen Who Was Promised - you've always known what you must do ...
The other half joined in the song, both flowing through me, communing.
Wicked Empress, Cruel Mate, let us be joined, let us be free. Together together together.
"Aelin," Cassian's voice would have cut through the song of both halves, but I wasn't entranced.
If I could chuck both halves into distant oceans I would in a heartbeat, even as I did what they longed for. Separate, their power was cleaved - making it impossible for the Cauldron to accomplish what I needed. Whole, they would allow me to reforge the Cauldron so that I could take it across worlds, merge it in the way that was needed.
Realizing what I was about to do, Mor lunged for me with a curse.
But she was too slow.
I laid the second half atop the other. A silent ripple of power exploded through the room, reverberating us down to our bones. As sudden as the explosion was, it reversed, sucked back into the Book, to the Cauldron itself.
My wyrdmarks glowed brighter.
But there was one thing I still needed.
Through my roaring thoughts, I heard Mor say, "We can't risk -"
"Give her a minute," Cassian insisted.
Oh Cassian, my pure, selfless, loyal mate. I wondered if he would hate me once my betrayal was revealed. Was that anger I'd glimpsed at the training ring only from his false sense of rejection? Or would my abandonment bring it boiling to the surface?
I hoped not.
I waited, sound and silence. The predator lying in wait, a viper about to strike. The Cauldron pulsed, gathering its power - knowing what came next. Blood trickled down my lip and chin at the force of holding back the burgeoning power, warm and wet.
Strong hands tugged me back, wrenching me away from the dais. I gasped, trying to claw my way back as Azriel shook me, eyes so wide I could see the white around them. No -
Steps sounded above, and Azriel instantly shoved me behind him, bloodied blade lifting. Cassian and Mor rushed to either side, angling their weapons as those steps grew louder. As a male of average height appeared on the steps. As my target arrived.
My bones recognized him. Not the shoulder-length black hair, ruddy skin, clothes more practical than fine. Not his average height that confined a strength even his well-muscled frame couldn't contain. Not his blandly handsome face that resembled a human man in his forties.
But his eyes. I knew those eyes. Depthless, hateful black eyes that burned with recognition.
"I was expecting more, Heir of Mala," he said to me.
"Hybern," I hissed.
Finally.
Cassian and Azriel took threatening steps forward, snarling at the King. I gauged the distance between my mates and the king, between the king and the Cauldron.
The King of Hybern laughed coldly. "Got yourself quite a dedicated pack of guard-dogs, haven't you?"
I felt them sweep towards us, a ripple of night and the coldest mountain wind. Rhys and Rowan appeared at my side. I brushed against Rhys, the Book instantly gone. My movement so slick that I don't think he registered it as I tucked it into his own jacket.
Relief rushed through me, knowing they would have the Book after all of this. I wouldn't have to resort to my backup methods
"You look good, Hybern," Rhys said, strolling to Cassian's side as Rowan moved towards Azriel - both of them casually positioning themselves between me and the threat. "For a dead man."
"Last I heard," Hybern mused, "you were warming Amarantha's sheets."
Rage flared, even as Rhys laughed, low and mocking. "I much prefer her how I left her," he tilted his head. "I imagine it will be much the same when we leave your bloodied corpse to rot."
Hybern's eyes sliced back to me, and I didn't miss the way his raven eyes lingered over Rowan. "What interesting guardians you have, World-Walker. It seems you were even able to bring one with you - what interesting things you must know to be able to do so."
"If this is your way to ask after your brother, I can assure you Erawan will be meeting much the same fate as you, Mantyx. Or is it Orcus?" I smiled cruelly, tutting, "No, I don't think so. You reek of desperation, and it was always your older brother who was stronger, wasn't it?"
His face pinched in irritation, "For the Queen Who Was Promised, I'm honestly a bit disappointed you didn't see the trap coming."
A key clicked in a lock, a hand squeezed so tight around an invisible tether that nothing could flow.
I tilted my head, "You mean like you saw your precious Queen Maeve escaping your brother?"
Wrath twisted his face into an inhuman grimace - revealing himself as the monster he was.
Amren had been right then, the rumors she had heard before landing in Pythian were true. The three Valg Kings were not the first to leave their wretched realm - it had been a Valg Queen. Maeve. Wicked, clever Maeve who not only escaped her husband and his dour realm, but somehow remained hidden throughout the first Valg wars, throughout the splitting of realms.
And I knew just where to find her.
I didn't look at Rowan, I couldn't - not without knowing if he had caught on to the significance of what had just been confirmed.
At Hybern's snarl, Rhys reached back to grab my hand, Rowan grabbing the other, and prepared to thrust us into wind and darkness. Only it didn't come. Mor gripped Cassian and Azriel's hands - and stayed still.
Hybern smiled.
"New trick?" Rhysand drawled, hand tightening in mine.
"I couldn't risk you leaving the castle until we've finished our chat," Hybern said. "Or until you've become bloody ribbons."
My blood ran cold. Cassian and Azriel crouched into fighting stances, but Rhys and Rowan stared at the king, descending into the killing calm. I felt their power rise and rise, as if they'd splatter the King then and there.
But nothing happened. Not a spot of shadow or a brush of wind.
"Then there's that," Hybern said. "Didn't you remember your time under the mountain Rhys? I'm disappointed. She stole my book of spells to take your powers after all. And she didn't even know how to use half of my more ... creative spells."
I reached for Rhys's mind, for the bond - and slammed into a hard wall of foreign, unfeeling stone. Beyond that wall, I knew he was unleashing every ounce of his will on the spell that contained us, as desperate to reach me as I was him.
"Don't worry, Aelin." Hybern smiled, "Their suffering will be long and thorough."
I could feel my court raging against that internal wall, trying to summon their gifts to no avail. Meanwhile, my mind raced, figuring out how I could get them out of this when the time came. Hybern, as if sensing I wasn't fighting back, quirked an eyebrow at me.
"Delightful," Rhys ground out in a bid to distract him, trying to turn me, pushing at me in a silent, desperate plea to run.
But I refused to budge. I couldn't, even if they didn't know that.
And I hated that they wouldn't leave without me.
"Now, the real fun can begin."
Faster than any of us could see, Hybern fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel's chest.
My own blood-curdling scream rang in my ears.