Aelin
My heart thundered in my chest as we were forced to obey the king.
The ash bold was coated in a blood poison that he claimed flowed where he willed it. If we fought, the poison would shoot to his heart. And with our magic locked down, without the ability for them to winnow away ...
Cassian and Rhys had hauled Azriel between them, standing near the fall wall of the dungeon where Hybern had commanded them. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his lax figure, the sallow quality of his skin. His blood splattered on the floor beneath him, every ruby-red drop stoking the growing wildfire of my rage.
Mor was shaking next to them - unable to tear her eyes away from the arrow protruding from Azriel's chest. Rowan stood at her side, fists clenched as he fixed his eyes on me. His perfectly calm face belied the rage that I knew was bubbling beneath the surface.
Hybern had hauled me onto the dais, standing next to me as he tried to decipher the marks on the lip of the Cauldron.
None of us had dared strike against him as he'd manhandled me next to the ancient artifact. We knew he wasn't bluffing. It'd take one move, one flinch, for Azriel to die. And I refused to allow that to happen.
The guards were out now, having swarmed into the room after Hybern had fired the bolt. They were both High Fae and creatures - too similar to the monstrous opposing force that had been sent to decimate Velaris. Some resembled the Attor. Some worse. They smiled, taking us in like we were their next meal. Their eyes were dead - empty.
I stood on the dais, on display, blood still trickling down my wrist from my earlier wound. I refused to look at the king, eyes tracking each shallow breath Azriel made. I'd have to be quick - as long as they could get past the wards they could leave, they could heal him - save him.
"Now that we understand where we stand, I want to make one thing clear. I'll let him live, but in exchange for his life, I will need something in return," Hybern crooned, grasping my elbow harshly.
I tilted my head to stare at him, forcing a bravado I did not feel as my mind raced towards a solution, a way to free them. Wyrdmarks danced in my mind, crystalizing into something I could use.
Rhys, Rowan, Mor and Cassian were sharp-eyed. Together, even Azriel, despite being sagging and heavy-lidded, all of them scanned the gathered soldiers, sizing up our best odds of escape.
"If it's my life, you'll have to get in line," I drawled at the monster before me.
"Oh, I have no interest in killing you," he laughed, "not yet."
He stalked around the Cauldron, circling me. I fidgeted as his gaze fixed on the ancient metal, toe dragging across the rough stone. If only my wound would bleed a little more - a little faster.
"Aelin Galathynius," he mused. "So much talk about Aelin Galathynius, even across the realms. The Queen Who Was Promised."
He approached, eyes tracking over my form. My court was tense - taut. I wanted to cry as Azriel, even as wounded as he was, subtly moved a bloody, scarred hand closer to his blades. His blood pooled around his boots.
The King jerked his chin up, pointing a thick finger at me. Invisible hands cut the tethers to my sword belts. Illyrian swords clanked to the ground. Daggers slid free of their sheaths.
"So many weapons," Hybern contemplated as I was disarmed with brutal efficiency. Even blades hidden beneath my clothes found their way out - slicing as they went. Blood bloomed and I had to repress a feral grin.
Rhysand and Cassian hissed in protest. Azriel narrowed his eyes below a heavy brow. Rowan made no sound, eyes tracking each wound as they appeared - adding them to the tally for his retribution.
"Why so much interest, Mantyx?" I asked.
"Why?" he laughed again. "You're Mala's Heir - you have the power of a goddess running through your veins, the power of the true royalty of this divided but mighty realm - Eirlea ... and Prythian. I certainly have no plans to waste a weapon like that. You were meant to be wielded, Aelin."
My mates remained silent, though I didn't miss Rhys and Cassian's grip tightening on Azriel. Rowan's breathing had become shallow, labored. They were observing - weighing, sorting through a way to get me out unscathed.
I knew I wouldn't. But I had made a promise when I came to this strange land that I would never be wielded again - and I refused to break it.
So, with an irreverent tilt of my head, I asked, "And what makes you think you could wield me, when you could not overcome Brannon?"
His smile was a dark, twisted thing. "Why, because I have your mates, of course. You will do anything, give me anything to protect them. I will bear the Cauldron in one hand and Aelin Fire-Bringer in the other."
My breath was stolen from my lungs at the thought. I darted a glance towards my mates - powerless, surrounded. They were barely breathing - barely moving. The image of what Hybern would do to them to force me to comply filled my mind. Flashes of mangled limbs, bloodied torsos, terror-stricken faces -
No. No -
I wouldn't allow it, couldn't. I refused to allow Hybern to raise a hand against them. I had to finish this. One last twist, one final drag of my foot against the hewn floor.
"And how the Cauldron purrs in your presence, the presence of the bloodline that created it. Don't you feel it? The urge to use it - to take, to destroy, to mold the world as you see fit - impossibly stronger with you nearby. It's intoxicating, the things we could do - together."
Rowan's blood-drained face twisted with rage. Cassian shifted on his feet, taking them all in, assessing, readying himself to fight, to defend. They would do anything, risk anything to get me out of here.
Molten rage poured into me at the king's audacity. I hissed at him, "I can't say I sense much beyond your overbearing presence and all-encompassing need to be a sociopathic megalomaniac."
Hybern snorted, ever amused. "You made a big mistake, you know, the day you went after the Book. I had no need of it, and was content to let it lie hidden." He jerked his chin towards Rhys, focusing on him for a brief moment, "But the moment your forces started sniffing around ... I paid attention. And then you provided the human Queens with such fascinating information - and I had to step in. It didn't take long to convince them that'd you'd feed them lies of love and goodness, to sway them to my side. More than that, though -" His depthless eyes gleamed in triumph. "You provided me with the perfect way to control an errant Queen."
His next words stole the breath from my lungs.
"After all, I'd had no idea the fabled savior had not just one mate - but four. And all within my reach."
Rhysand went still as death, the blood draining from his face. Cassian snarled. Rowan growled, a deep rumbling from deep in his chest. Hanging between his brothers, Azriel tried and failed to lift his head.
Hell, this was hell. Some new, never before seen level of hell. I could feel the nightmare of his words trying to drag me down, down, down into despair - but I clung to the glimpses of light I could almost touch, hauling myself free of the depths of pure terror by what felt like willpower alone.
Just a little longer. A little longer and then I could break.
But first, I'd need a distraction.
"I'll go with you," I said softly, shifting on my feet, "if you leave them alone. Let them go."
I ignored the snarls and growls that filled the chamber at my words. Hybern, the bastard, only looked more smug.
"Oh, I don't think so," he tutted. "Whispers across worlds rumor you will bow to no one, Heir of Fire. But you will bow to me."
I raised my chin haughtily, "I doubt that."
"Not even with your mates in my grasp and the power of the Cauldron at my disposal?" He cocked his head, a dark smile adorning his lips, savoring every moment. "Perhaps you need a demonstration?"
My heart stopped. "Don't you - "
The king cut me off, "I would suggest bracing yourselves."
And hell exploded.
Power, white and unending and hideous, barreled out from the dais.
And I could only watch - only watch as my mates, my court were thrown to the floor, shouts of pain crashing over me in thunderous waves. Anguish, fear and rage fought for dominance as I stood there, helpless. Unable to lash out at the bastard who could kill Azriel in an instant, even as he attacked my other mates, my family.
Rhys's body covered Mor, taking the brunt of the Cauldron's power.
Rowan turned away from the onslaught, hands outstretched in an attempt to shield the rest of the Court.
Cassian had twisted, wings flaring wide as he shielded Azriel.
His wings - his wings -
Cassian's scream as his wings shredded under talons of pure magic was the most horrific sound I'd ever heard. Mor surged for him, but couldn't reach him past the barrage of power.
It paused, and Rowan was moving in an instant - lunging towards the monster beside me, only for the king to unleash another surge of power. Rowan slammed to his knees.
All as I stood there, powerless. Untouched.
Terror surged as I watched it all - unable to move, to help, to shield, to do anything. Anything outside the damned dais. Where I forced myself to keep going, one final step.
I wanted to sob in terror, in sorrow, in relief. Because finally it was done, done. It was done.
It was done.
Hybern laughed softly at the blood gushing from Cassian's ravaged wings.
Shreds of them remained. Shreds.
Mor, on her knees beside Cassian, rattled out a cry of pure terror, pure grief. She knelt between him and Azriel, keening in fear - eyes wide.
He stepped back as the power retreated, directly on the bloody mark on the floor. The wyrdmark that I had oh so carefully etched into the floor as I stood, fidgeting before the arrogant king on the dais. Finishing it only heartbeats before.
The mark that froze him, froze his power, and gave me the time I needed to make sure they escaped.
The mark that would save my mates.
For once, I didn't have to say the words. I was not afraid.
Because I was furious.
A dangerous combination of victory, recklessness and pure, unadulterated rage rioted through my veins.
"You really shouldn't have done that." My voice was flat, manic - nothing human remained.
Hybern tried to spin to face me, face blanching when he couldn't move. Paling further as I circled to face him, when he saw the wildfire raging in my eyes.
Before he could even try to escape the mark binding him, I pulled free my hair pin, the one weapon he'd missed - and nicked his arm, adding a drop of blood to the stone beneath me. A drop of black blood fell directly onto the mark at his feet, rendering his power useless, his wards obsolete. His soldiers started to stir, sensing the change in the air.
The wards now gone - I locked eyes with Mor over his shoulder, begging her to get them out. Get them all out.
Get my mates out.
"His power is frozen, the wards are down - get them out," I snarled, completely feral.
She blinked, tears streaming down her face as she nodded, helping Cassian and Azriel upright. They moved too slowly, every movement pained, stirring enough to look over with pain-glazed eyes. I saw it - the understanding, the agony, the heartbreak.
Rhys tried to reach for me, but I unleashed my power, erecting an impenetrable barrier around them. Protecting my mates, my court, from Hybern's soldiers.
Preventing them from getting to me.
Shock ricocheted around the room as I refused them access. Rhysand and Rowan were frozen, unable to move. Much like the king still ensnared in my trap. I hoped they could understand the tears that rolled down my face as I met their eyes, as I silently said goodbye.
And turned away from them.
I snarled at Hybern, "You want my power so much? How about you come and take it?"
All the while, I begged Rhys through our link. Get out - all of you. I ripped the wards open. Get out. Get out. Get out.
I love you all.
I didn't give Hybern a chance to fight against me, grabbing him by his collar as I used my blood to ignite the wyrdmarks lining the lip of the Cauldron. With a roar of anguish, I pitched us inside - into that black, inky darkness that was everything and nothing all at once.
I could barely think, barely breathe as the magic rushed through me. The Cauldron folded in on itself as we fell through the inky darkness that had transformed into a gate, the king's pale, terror filled face bone white as his gnarled hands grasped at me.
But I didn't dare release him, not as that piece of the spell was advancing, the Cauldron transforming with every breath. As we tumbled through worlds, overlapping, slamming through one after the other.
The Cauldron was molten in my grip, pain ripping through me as it collapsed, reforged. It's power continued to climb as it was remade entirely.
And still, we fell. Glimpses of worlds teasing us as we passed.
Worlds of ice, worlds of water, worlds of darkness.
We fell, faster than a shooting star, faster than light.
And then I felt it - the power of the Cauldron, contained in a warped metal amulet - a black gemstone pulsing with power around my neck.
And I grinned.
I grabbed at the king more firmly, and with the terrifying power now tied to me - I reached out, and I pulled - dragging from him all vestiges of power, draining him till there didn't even remain a drop. And he was completely, utterly powerless.
I screamed in pain as his twisted power hit my own well of magic, twisting and contorting in space as it attacked. Time was meaningless as it rushed into me, shredding my insides - a dark, unnatural, twisted pain battling against my very being. My chest felt hollow, soul threatening to gutter out.
Then flame ignited - nothing but flame.
White-hot power surged, pouring into the broken spots, the tarnished places, melding them. And it flowed and flowed, eradicating any taint of the darkness from infecting my core.
My lips curved upward.
Throughout it all, we fell, the once powerful male now a mere husk, nothing of his former might remaining. Bleed dry in a way that was only possible in the gaps between worlds, where the laws of realms didn't exist.
There were so many worlds, all of them miraculous, so many of them precious and perfect. And then there were the ones that weren't. But there was one in particular I aimed for.
As we plunged through world after world after world, I waited.
Waited for that world I had seen only once. Had accidentally opened a portal into one night in the bowels of a stone castle. Of distant, baying howls cracking from a bleak gray expanse. A hell-realm.
And I smiled as we plunged through it, the door thrown open. As I tossed the husk that was once King Hybern, that was once the Valg King Mantyx into it - to be torn to shreds. And I reveled in the frightened scream that burst free as he fell.
Leaving him behind, I plummeted into what remained, grappling to slow my racing. The marks burned onto the Cauldron flared, even in its new form. Guiding me, showing me, tugging me on my way.
My way home. And it was close.
Close. Home was so close.
And then there it was.
Mountains of pine and snow. Roiling tempests of seas. Frozen tundras. Towering dunes of burning sand. Cities and towns and barren swatches of land.
People from many lands, of many beings. I saw them all, familiar and foreign, fighting and at peace. So many people, so many lands, all revealed to me. Erilea.
And then I drew closer.
Mist-filled forests, lush and dense with greenery. The imposing height of the Cambrian Mountains, broken sporadically by plateaus and fields of wildflowers. Dark and ancient stones of a fortress that hugged the spine of the mountain slope.
I willed myself, willed the world to halt, forced my will into the now permanent wyrdmarks embedded into the Cauldron. A vessel of power, no matter its form.
A thunderous clap resounded as I fell into Erilea, home once more.
And I was plunged back into my room - Rowan's room - in the fortress of Mistward.
My body was limp as I struggled to catch my breath. I was crouched over, lifting my head to take in every detail of the far wall of the room I once viewed as simply another prison. But now, memories rose, fierce and swift, of the mate who had once resided in this very room. Especially when I caught sight of the bed we had once slept in.
Images flashed of Rowan. Rowan, who had slept with me on that very bed, even while he tormented me during training. Who had refused to let me leave it when I had nearly burnt out, snarking at me like a mother hen.
I nearly smiled, until my full senses finally returned. And an oily sensation enveloped me, masquerading as ancient grace, only a hint of darkness peaking out. Unless you knew how to look for it.
The room around me seemed to freeze, the very walls, which had been humming in recognition only moments before, went silent. It was so still - as if even the stones held their breath. Except for a faint pulse in the air, a throbbing against my blood. It was something I'd felt before.
I stood, lunging to grab Goldryn from where it was still propped on the wall. And I turned, facing the dark-haired creature seated behind Rowan's desk.
It was wrong - so wrong for her to be in this room, tainting it. But still, there she sat. At a small desk, laughable in its insignificance when compared to the demon behind it.
And I stared into black, depthless eyes for the second time that day.
"Hello, Aunt."