Feyre paced around the House of Wind, her hands clenching and unclenching as she went. Worry had knotted through her stomach. Something was very, very wrong. A ripple of power had rushed through her a couple days before and now Azriel and Cassian were days late in arriving back to the Night Court.
The others were also away, leaving her alone to the mercy of her nerves. Amren had locked herself into her apartment with the mirror, the Book of Breathings, and a big glass of blood. Mor was at the Court of Nightmares, dealing with some of the more unruly of the heathens, and Rhys had gone to the Library to see what he could dig up on the damaged mirror. After what had happened to her in the library, Feyre was a bit wary to revisit and stayed behind.
Nothing about the mirror had come up in Amren or Rhys' research or in Feyre's dreams. They were at a complete standstill with it and with the rippling power changes that kept sweeping through Prythian. Miryam and Drakon had said that there was no change in the Cauldron whatsoever, and they were still waiting on Azriel and Cassian's return.
Sometimes Feyre wished the Bone Carver had not died on the battlefield against the King of Hybern. Although his power intimidated her, she was always grateful for his insight. Perhaps she would go catch a Suriel, even it meant she had to travel to the Spring Court to get the answers she needed.
Just as she was about to winnow from the House of Wind to the townhouse, a garbled noise, a crash, and a moan echoed in the corner, and Feyre was there in an instant. Tangled around each other were a redheaded Lucien and a moaning Cassian.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" Feyre asked as she pulled the two of them apart. For as disheveled as he was, Lucien looked uninjured; it was the arrow that pinned Cassian's wing to his back that alarmed her.
"This is going to hurt. Hold still. I don't want to damage your wing," Feyre said as she snapped the feathered end of the arrow off into her hand. Cassian moaned again, and she noticed that three of his siphons were cracked open.
As she worked at healing the Illyrian, she spoke to Lucien, "What happened out there? Where are Tamlin and Az?"
The redhead sat against the wall with his head in his hands. His voice came out muffled, "I don't know. We woke up a little bit before dawn as it started to rain, and they were gone. We followed their scents to a cave in the middle of the island, but then the trail just stopped dead. As if they had vanished. Azriel's blood was smeared onto the cave entrance, but it was starting to come off with the rain."
"Do you think Azriel is hurt somewhere?" Feyre asked. She had unpinned the wing from Cassian's back and was working on the arrowhead.
"No."
"What do you mean? His blood was smeared all over some cave in the middle of Hybern, Lucien!"
"No, he's not hurt because he put that blood there himself. I don't know why, but he did."
"Well that doesn't explain how Cassian ended up with an arrow in his wing!"
"The two of us split up to find Tamlin and Azriel, and there was nothing on the island. There were some normal animals. The geography and climate of Hybern is just like that of the Spring Court. We had searched every single cave and beach on the entire island. I was making my way back to the beach where we had set up camp when everything went silent. It felt like even the waves had ceased lapping at the sand. And then I heard Cassian scream from the other side of the island.
"As I ran for him, arrows appeared out of nowhere. I couldn't smell anything but the natural wildlife of the island, as if it were truly abandoned of people, but the arrows kept coming. I'm surprised I wasn't hit. I finally reached Cassian, and the minute I touched him, I winnowed us off the island.
"I'm not as strong as you and Rhys, so I had to winnow us into the Summer Court, which depleted my power a lot. As soon as I was able, I winnowed us up the coast through Winter, Dawn, and Day, but it took me days to get us all the way up here into Velaris. I'm sorry, Feyre."
Feyre bit her lip and looked at him, "It's not your fault. You did everything you could for Cassian. You got him to me."
To demonstrate her point, she showed Lucien Cassian's now mended shoulder.
"He's not going to be 100% for a few weeks while the nerves and muscles repair themselves on his wing, but his back is fine. The arrow didn't get too deep. I'm more worried about Tamlin and Azriel and the phantom arrows."
Through the mating bond, Feyre called for Rhys, who appeared by her side almost instantly.
A smile played on his face as he said, "Feyre darling, you called?"
His laughter fell away when he saw Cassian laying on the floor and Lucien with his head in his hands.
He must of saw what had happened in Cassian's mind because he said to his brother, "We'll get him back. I promise."
Something still gnawed at Feyre, "I understand the arrows, but what happened to your Siphons?"
Something shot down the mating bond and then was gone again.
"Only extremely dark, extremely powerful magic can crack a Siphon," Rhysand whispered, almost to himself. Instinctively, his hand closed around Feyre's.
As he said this, a being almost dark enough and powerful enough to crack a Siphon, winnowed into a seat at the elegant table in the center of the room.
With one hand on a large, weathered book and the other hand clenching a cracked silver mirror, Amren spoke with just a hint of the musical lilt that marked her as different from the rest of them.
"I know what the mirror does."