Aidan was getting frustrated with the army's slow pace, growing accustomed to winnowing or flying wherever she needed to go. There had been no news of attacks since they'd left Velaris, giving her hope that they would reach the Fae villages in time to stop Maeve.
"Are we there yet?" Aidan asked, riding beside Azriel on a chestnut brown mare.
"We're five minutes closer than when you asked five minutes ago," Azriel laughed. "If you're really so bored, we could play a game."
She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he'd ever played a game in his life.
"What's your game?" Aidan asked as they rode.
"Questions for questions. I'll ask you a question, and then you can ask me a question," he explained.
"Fine."
"Will you marry me?" Azriel asked, peering down at her from his own horse.
"Right now?" Aidan exclaimed. "We're kind of in the middle of something!"
"No, not right now," he laughed. "But once this is over, and we've defeated Maeve for good."
Aidan felt a flash of guilt at not telling him the entirety of the prophecy, at the fact that this journey might be her last. She smiled sadly, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"Sure. In a couple years," she said.
"Years!" he repeated.
"Yes, years. I have more important things on my mind, Az," she laughed.
The two of them took turns asking questions for hours and were only interrupted when a speck appeared in the distance and got bigger as it approached. An Illryian she didn't recognize landed beside their horses.
"What is it, Adainita?" Azriel questioned.
"Pentrefia has been destroyed, and Maeve's army seems to be headed for Gwenth. They're less than a day out," he answered, bowing and flying off to his own legion.
Aidan remembered those names from the map in the House of Wind, both of which were needed to complete Wyrdmark.
"How far are we from Gwenth?"
Sullenly, he said, "Three days."
"Can we send a message? Or one of us can winnow there and warn them," Aidan asked.
"I'll let Rhys know. We can warn them. They'll have to move quickly," Azriel answered.
"We can winnow them in and out. Me and Mor and Feyre and Rhys and Tamlin can all winnow," Aidan offered.
Frowning, Azriel replied, "There are too many people in Gwenth to winnow out. You'll use all your energy, and you'll all need it soon."
Aidan frowned at his logic, but let the issue rest as he rode off to let Rhys know of the new developments. A few minutes later, the direction of the line changed, heading further east.
When Azriel returned to her side, she asked, "Why did we change directions?"
"We're heading for Cyfle," he said quietly.
"So we're just abandoning all of the people in Gwenth! We need to ride west, Az!" Aidan exclaimed.
"Rhys is warning the people in Gwenth now. Hopefully, they have enough time to disappear. You have to understand, this is the only way to save as many people as possible," he explained.
"Well, it's a terrible way!" Aidan gritted out.
"I know," he said sadly.
Three days later, the Night Court had finally made their way into the Summer Court, rallying with many of the other Courts along the way. Most of them had sent standing armies, but the Spring Court was still unreceptive to messages, even from its High Lord.
A figure darted over the meadowy horizon towards their party. The person was moving so fast, Aidan thought it was flying. He hurtled into camp, a scout she did not know.
"MAEVE!" he gasped, dropping to his knees in exhaustion. "SHE'S COMING!"
The reaction in the group was immediate. Rhys was giving orders. Cassian was giving orders. The other assembled High Lords began barking orders. Within minutes, the army was assembled, facing the direction in which the scout came.
It was only a few minutes more before they heard the hoofbeats that signified Maeve and her army's arrival. A single rider, carrying a white flag approached their camp. As he got closer, several Fae drew their weapons, but Rhys ordered them to stand down.
When he finally made it to the head of their party, he said, "Her Royal Majesty, Queen Maeve of Hybern, invites the armies of Prythian to announce a champion to compete in single combat against Her Majesty. If she wins, she will take Prythian under her charge and will be given the Twin Mirror. If she loses, she will leave Prythian in peace. If you agree to these terms, place a white flag here, at the head of your army. If not, we will kill you all."
He rode off, back into the woods on the other side of the field, and a heated discussion broke out among the High Lords.
"We have a better chance by just attacking her army head on," one Lord said. "She killed Helion. She's dangerous."
Beron piped up, "Her soldiers killed Helion. I'd be surprised if she's even held a sword in the last century. Plus, she's a woman."
"We could send out a Champion and attack them anyway," Tarquin suggested.
"Oh, how honorable, Tarquin," Thesan spat.
"Our opponent fights without honor. Why can't we?" he hissed back.
Rhys interrupted, "I agree with Tarquin. If we engage Maeve in a single duel, she'll be less able to give orders and maneuver around the field."
Tarquin smiled grimly and said, "We'll vote on it then. All in favor of sending a champion and simultaneously attacking, raise your hand."
Looking around the assembled group, Aidan noted that Feyre was the only High Lady. She had her hand raised along with Tarquin, Beron, Rhysand, and Kallias. There was enough to pass it.
"And those opposed?" he asked. The other four High Lords raised their hands, including the new High Lord of Day.
"And who will be our Champion?" he asked, addressing the entire group.
No one spoke until Azriel and Aidan spoke at the same time, "I will."
Azriel looked at her stunned. Whether or not she volunteered, she had to be the one to kill Maeve.
Tarquin's voice was hoarse when he said, "Is there anyone else?"
"If there is no one else, who in favor elects Aidan to be our champion?" Tarquin continued.
Among the High Lords and Ladies gathered, three raised their hands, Rhys, Feyre, and Tamlin.
"And those in favor of Azriel?"
Aidan's heart dropped as the other five High Lords volunteered her mate to meet Maeve on the battlefield. She flung her arms around him, hoping that the vote would change and knowing that it wouldn't.
A soldier raised the white flag to show their decision, and Fae began patting and hugging Azriel left in right, thanking him. Aidan clung to his side throughout it all, noting that his Siphons were beginning to glow blue in anticipation of the fight.
Only a few minutes passed before a horn blew out across the open field, and a chariot carrying the dark-haired Queen moved towards the center of the field. She wore a dress of white that almost matched her skin perfectly.
Beside Aidan, Amren whispered, "Maevedelina."
Aidan didn't have time to process it as the people starting to gradually push her and Azriel to the very head of the army. Soldiers began putting on some light armor, and Aidan reached up on her tip-toes to kiss him.
"I will give you everything I have," she whispered. "Every last drop of magic, I will pour into you."
"No," he whispered back. "You have to protect yourself."
"I have to protect you," she said, and he nodded, kissing her hard before letting her go.
"I'll come back," he said, winking at her before pushing off the ground in two mighty strokes.
Aidan watched him as he moved swiftly across the field and landed before Maeve, who was just then departing from her carriage, a longsword strapped to her back and daggers at her hips.
She nodded at him in acknowledgement, and he did the same. She didn't waste any time before she drew her sword and swung it deftly. Of course, she would know how to use it. How stupid of Beron to this she wouldn't know how to.
She moved so fast that sliced into Azriel's arm before he could jump out of the way. He met her next parry and twisted to avoid the dagger she had slipped into her free hand.
Aidan threw up a mental and physical shield around him. It wouldn't block the blows, but hopefully it would dampen them a bit. The two of them sparred with their swords for several minutes before Aidan felt the first jab into her mental shield. A darkness crawled around the borders of it, licking at it to find its weaknesses. She threw it up even further.
She held onto her wrist, where she and Azriel had the mating bond confirmed by the High Priestesses, who had tattooed most of her forearm. She threw a little of her energy down in and into the bond between them, hoping that her power would translate into quickness and strength on Azriel's part. Little by little, she fed the bond, and as she did so, she saw Azriel move quicker and quicker.
They played and deadly dance, and when Maeve seemed to be completely entralled, she heard Rhys give the order to attack. Thousands of troops ran across the field, meeting Maeve's army halfway. Aidan didn't even notice. She sat cross legged on the ground, one hand on her wrist, her eyes firmly on Maeve and Azriel.
He landed a hit to her thigh, and her face scrunched up in fury. She launched back at him quicker than ever and sliced through the upper tip of his wing. He yowled in pain, and Aidan through a bit of healing energy down through the bond, willing him to move faster.
And he did. He moved so fast that he plunged the long blade of his sword right through her heart, and she laughed at him.
Terror flicked through the bond as Maeve pulled the long blade out of her heart with one hand and her other hand plunged the ornately carved dagger into Azriel's heart.
Aidan's screamed echoed across the blood covered field as she ran towards him, summoning up her well of magic, calling mostly on the ice that now flooded through her veins.
Maeve threw Azriel's sword down on the ground beside him and smiled as Aidan winnowed in front of her.
"Aidan, it's so nice to see you again," Maeve said lightly.
Revenge flooded through Aidan and her vision went red as she focused so hard on the immortal before her. The wind started to pick up around them, and Aidan raised her hands.
Anger and hatred bubbled up in her as she created a living, breathing tornado. Fire and ice rained down throughout the battlefield, so big Aidan could barely contain it. She snapped her fingers in Maeve's direction.
Her eyes widened a little as the massive tornado of flame moved towards her before she tried to run from its path.
"Goodbye, Maeve," Aidan gritted out before snapping her fingers again.
Maeve threw her magic out around her, trying to shift the direction of the tornado, but like everything else in its path, it swallowed her dark magic, mixing in with the flame and ice and making the tornado even bigger.
She screamed in agony as it picked her up into the air and slammed her against the ground and the few unlucky trees in the outskirts of the meadow. Maeve's screams made Aidan smile, in both horror and delight.
Everything on the battlefield had ground to halt as soldiers on both sides watched the Immortal Queen sucked into the tornado of flame, ice, and darkness.
Aidan headed for Azriel, and the prophecy rang in her ears.
Sacrifice of something dear.
A life for a life.
The sacrifice wasn't her life. It was Azriel's.