Two Worlds

Chapter 30 - Aelin

 So a once-Valg was hosting a Valg... soldier? Prince? Either way, they were screwed. They were just infinitely more screwed if it was a Valg prince.

"There has to be something we can do," Feyre was saying. They sat at a large circular table, somewhere in a place called Hewn City. Or, as Mor referred to it, the Court of Nightmares. When they arrived, Rhys had ordered the court to disperse and give them privacy. Aelin had seen the rage simmering in his eyes as he'd given the order, and had understood it—if these bastards were going to cower here while they did all the fighting, they didn't deserve a sliver of respect—from their High Lord, or anyone else.

"There must be a weakness of some sort," Cassian added. "Anything we can use against them."

Manon snapped her iron teeth down, then up, then down and up again. "There is something," she said, and every pair of eyes at the table immediately shot to her. "It's not much, but for the average Valg, it's repulsive." She took a breath, then told the story of how witches came to be—how Valg had stolen away the Fae, and it resulted in three different Clans: the Blackbeaks, Bluebloods, and Yellowlegs, as well as the Crochans. "While I was Wing Leader of the Clans, I was stationed at Morath. My coven, the Thirteen—" Something like pain flickered in her eyes, and Aelin bowed her head in respect at the mention of the brave witches who'd sacrificed their lives to save them at the Battle of Orynth—"and I were discussing something or other when in walked a Valg wearing a young man's body." Her eyes hardened. "His power... he affected every member of the Thirteen that didn't have the gold in their eyes. I'm not—not entirely sure what he did—what nightmares he made them relive, what horrors he made them experience, but it seemed to be repelled by the eyes of the others."

Dorian nodded. "When I had the collar around my neck, every time I saw Manon, the prince would... hiss, as if it were burned. It didn't like anything about Manon."

"So it doesn't physically ail them—or if it does, it's not significant." Mor pursed her lips. "How does this have anything to do with rescuing Amren?"

Dorian and Aelin exchanged glances. "It doesn't—especially not now, when we don't know how, exactly, the Valg is... possessing her, so to say."

"We're not going to abandon Amren," Rhys said viciously, and his Court nodded. Aelin clenched her jaw.

"That's all fine and well," Aedion said, "but there is nothing—nothing—we can do about that right now. Our only chance at saving her would be to kill Arobynn." He glanced at Lysandra before quickly looking away. "And it won't be nearly as easy as last time."

Aelin nodded absentmindedly and said before Feyre or one of the others could cut in, "Especially since Maeve and Arobynn sort of... bonded." She shuddered at the thought, but looked at Rowan, Lysandra, and her cousin. Her voice lowered by a fraction. "Do you guys remember Ilium and the overseer from Endovier?" Her mate's eyes widened ever so slightly as the others nodded. Everyone else, unsurprisingly, looked at her in curiosity. She turned to them and explained, "Ilium, in the beginning stages of the war, was overrun by Adarlan, even after the king was killed." Cassian opened his mouth to ask about it further, but Aelin waved her hand in dismissal. "It's a long story—one I'm not going to get into now," she said. "But essentially, when I went to retake that town and the temple in it, we encountered Erawan in a body that was not his own, if that makes sense. The overseer's. And... he had a Wyrdstone heart. It took nearly all of my power to destroy the overseer's body, and even then, it was only when Erawan decided to leave. If this situation with Arobynn is anything like that day—" She sighed. "Well, let's just say that Aedion had it right—it won't be as easy to kill Arobynn this time."

Azriel cocked his head. "How did you do it last time?"

Aelin grinned at Lysandra, an invitation to answer the Shadowsinger's question. Lysandra turned to him, her eyes distant as she remembered that night so long ago. "I slit his throat while he was sleeping," she said simply. And that was that.

A silence filled the room. Eventually Mor said, "So we need a plan."

Everyone in Aelin's party shot a sideways look at the queen, brows raised. "I'm assuming you already have one?" Lorcan bit out.

Aelin nodded. "I've got a rough outline, at the very least."

Aedion rolled his eyes. "Knowing you, that's code for 'I have this very nearly fool-proof plan that has a ninety-nine percent chance of ending in me sacrificing myself.' Come on, Aelin," he said. "Give us a little credit."

So Aelin smiled, and nodded, and layed out her plan.

When she was done, Mor narrowed her eyes and said, "I'm not entirely sure that's the best place for me to go."

And so began the meticulous process of reviewing and revising the plan she'd layed out, squeezing in every last bit of information they could to make sure it worked. "We only have one shot at this," Aelin murmured to Rowan while the others were talking, so quietly that even she could hardly hear herself. "If this doesn't work, I want you to get the others out of here and find a way home." Without her, she didn't need to add. Rowan's eyes turned cold.

"Absolutely not," he said.

"That's an order," Aelin hissed. His eyes flashed, but before he could protest, she said, "I dragged us all here. I made the gods-damned decision to go through that portal, even when you all warned me not to. So yes," she seethed, "you are going to bring them home—if this all takes a turn."

Rowan closed his eyes, feeling the tug on the blood oath Aelin had initiated in giving him the order. "Then I will make sure, Fireheart," he breathed, "that it does not come to that tomorrow morning."

Despite herself, Aelin nodded. Then she forced herself to survey all the others and drawl, "Well. Who's ready to kick some Valg ass?"

Their answering grins did nothing to ease the pit of dread in her stomach.