Nesta straightened her fork and knife beside her plate. “Can’t you spirit them away somewhere south—far from here?”
“That many people? Not without first finding a safe place, which would take time we don’t have.” Rhys considered. “If we get a ship, they can sail—”
“They will demand their families and friends come.”
A beat of silence. Not an option. Then Elain said quietly, “We could move them to Graysen’s estate.”
We all faced her at the evenness of her voice.
She swallowed, her slender throat so pale, and explained, “His father has high walls—made of thick stone. With space for plenty of people and supplies.” All of us made a point not to look at that ring she still wore. Elain went on, “His father has been planning for something like this for … a long time. They have defenses, stores …” A shallow breath. “And a grove of ash trees, with a cache of weapons made from them.”
A snarl from Cassian. Despite their power, their might … However those trees had been created, something in the ash wood cut right through Fae defenses. I’d seen it firsthand—killed one of Tamlin’s sentinels with an arrow through the throat.
“If the faeries who attack possess magic,” Cassian said, and Elain recoiled at the harsh tone, “then thick stone won’t do much.”
“There are escape tunnels,” Elain whispered. “Perhaps it is better than nothing.”
A glance between the Illyrians. “We can set up a guard—” Cassian began.
“No,” Elain interrupted, her voice louder than I’d heard in months. “They … Graysen and his father …”
Cassian’s jaw tightened. “Then we cloak—”
“They have hounds. Bred and trained to hunt you. Detect you.”
A stiff silence as my friends contemplated how, exactly, those hounds had been trained.
“You can’t mean to leave their castle undefended,” Cassian tried a shade more gently. “Even with the ash, it won’t be enough. We’d need to set wards at the very minimum.”
Elain considered. “I can speak to him.”
“No,” I said—at the same moment Nesta did.
But Elain cut us off. “If—if you and … they”—a glance at Rhys, my friends—“come with me, your Fae scents might distract the dogs.”
“You’re Fae, too,” Nesta reminded her.
“Glamour me,” Elain said—to Rhys. “Make me look human. Just long enough to convince him to open his gates to those seeking sanctuary. Perhaps even let you set those wards around the estate.”
And with our scents to confuse the hounds … “This could end very badly, Elain.”
She brushed her thumb over the iron-and-diamond engagement ring. “It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of deciding how we meet the consequences.”
“Wisely said,” Mor offered, smiling softly at Elain. She looked to Cassian. “You need to move the Illyrian legions today.”
Cassian nodded, but said to Rhys, “With the wall down, we need you to make a few things clear to the Illyrians. I need you at the camp with me—to give one of your pretty speeches before we go.”
Rhys’s mouth twitched toward a smile. “We can all go—then head to the human lands.” He surveyed us, the town house. “We have an hour to prepare. Meet back here—then we leave.”
Mor and Azriel instantly winnowed out, Cassian striding for Rhys to ask him about the Court of Nightmares soldiers and their preparation.
Nesta and I aimed for Elain, both of us speaking at once. “Are you sure?” I demanded at the same time Nesta said, “I can go—let me talk to him.”
Elain only rose to her feet. “He doesn’t know you,” she said to me. Then she faced Nesta with a frank, bemused look. “And he hates you.”
Some rotten part of me wondered if their broken engagement was for the best, then. Or if Elain had somehow suggested this visit, right after Lucien had left Prythian, for some chance to … I didn’t let myself finish the thought.
I said, watching the space where my friends had vanished from the town house, “I need you to understand, Elain, that if this goes badly … if he tries to harm you, or any of us …”
“I know. You will defend your own.”
“I will defend you.”
The vacancy fogged over her eyes. But Elain lifted her chin. “No matter what, don’t kill him. Please.”
“We’ll try—”
“Swear it.” I’d never heard that tone from her. Ever.
“I can’t make that promise.” I wouldn’t back down, not on this. “But I will do everything in my power to avoid it.”
Elain seemed to realize it, too. She peered down at herself, at the simple blue gown she wore. “I need to dress.”
“I’ll help you,” Nesta offered.
But Elain shook her head. “Nuala and Cerridwen will help me.”
Then she was gone—shoulders a little squarer.
Nesta’s throat bobbed. I murmured, “It wasn’t your fault—that the wall came down before we could stop it.”
Steel-filled eyes cut to me. “If I had stayed to practice—”
“Then you just would have been here while you waited for us to return from the meeting.”
Nesta smoothed a hand down her dark dress. “What do I do now?”
A purpose, I realized. Assigning her the task of finding a way to repair the holes in the wall … it had given my sister what perhaps our human lives had never granted her: a bearing.
“You come with us—to Graysen’s estate, and then travel with the army. If you’re connected with the Cauldron, then we’ll need you close. Need you to tell us if it’s being wielded again.”
Not quite a mission, but Nesta nodded all the same.
Right as Cassian clapped Rhys on the shoulder and prowled toward us. He paused a foot away, and frowned. “Dresses aren’t good for flying, ladies.”
Nesta didn’t reply.
He lifted a brow. “No barking and biting today?”
But Nesta didn’t rise to meet him, her face still drained and sallow. “I’ve never worn pants,” was all she said.
I could have sworn concern flashed across Cassian’s features. But he brushed it aside and drawled, “I have no doubt you’d start a riot if you did.”
No reaction. Had the Cauldron—
Cassian stepped in Nesta’s path when she tried to walk past him. Put a tan, callused hand on her forehead. She shook off the touch, but he gripped her wrist, forcing her to meet his stare. “Any one of those human pricks makes a move to hurt you,” he breathed, “and you kill them.”
He wouldn’t be coming—no, he’d be mustering the full might of the Illyrian legions. Azriel would be joining us, though.
Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. “A scratch can make you queasy enough to be vulnerable. Remember where the exits are in every room, every fence and courtyard—mark them when you go in, and mark how many men are around you. Mark where Rhys and the others are. Don’t forget that you’re stronger and faster. Aim for the soft parts,” he added, folding her fingers around the hilt. “And if someone gets you into a hold …” My sister said nothing as Cassian showed her the sensitive areas on a man. Not just the groin, but the inside of the foot, pinching the thigh, using her elbow like a weapon. When he finished, he stepped back, his hazel eyes churning with some emotion I couldn’t place.
Nesta surveyed the fine dagger in her hand. Then lifted her head to look at him.
“I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off.
I studied Nesta, the dagger, her quiet, still face.
“Don’t even start,” she warned me, and headed for the stairs.
I found Amren in her apartment, cursing at the Book.
“We’re leaving within the hour,” I said. “Do you have everything you need here?”
“Yes.” Amren lifted her head, those uptilted silver eyes swirling with ire. Not at me, I realized with no small relief. At the fact that Hybern had beaten us to the wall. Beaten her.