Shadows Whisper | | Azriel

3

Rhys returned to the House of Wind with Helion less than a full day after his departure. When he arrived, he found Mor, Cassian, and Amren all gathered in the room they had settled Azriel in.

Mor and Cassian looked exhausted and drained, like they hadn't eaten or slept. They stared at Azriel through tired eyes, as if they worried he'd die if they looked away. Amren was more outwardly composed than either of them. The only sign of anything being out of the ordinary was the way she glared at the book she was reading. She had read it once already, but she had read every book she could possibly think of and had gone back and started over again to try to find any answers. She hardly even looked up when Rhys came in with Helion.

Cassian and Mor did look to Rhys and Helion, and neither of them had it in themselves to even be relieved. Relief would only come when Azriel was okay again.

"He injured himself?" Helion asked, eyes drifting to the bright red marks on Azriel's face and neck. He had scratched himself again recently, and the scratches had healed over leaving the reddened lines.

"He nearly tore his own throat out," Cassian muttered, staring at his unconscious brother. "And he almost scratched his eyes out too."

"What prompted that?" Rhysand asked, eyes taking in Azriel. He looked so much worse.

"I don't know. He woke up and started shredding his skin," Mor told him, a frown etched onto her face. She looked to Helion then, "fix this. Please."

"I'll do whatever I can," Helion assured her, trying not to let any of this shake him. It was unnerving to see a group that was normally so put together look like they were all on the edge of falling apart. Azriel hardly looked like he was even alive.

Helion was gentle about it as he pushed and prodded for any of a spell on the shadowsinger.

"There's no spell on him," Helion said after a few moments, "I can do some reading on shadowsingers and see if I can find any history on this to see if there's a way to end it, but there's no spell on him. Whatever this is, the shadows are responsible for it. I'd think your best chance at stopping this is finding whatever she he said is coming."

"Thank you for your help," Rhys said, trying not to react too much. "You're welcome to stay, or I can show you out."

"I'll see myself out," Helion dismissed the offer, his eyes drifting to Azriel. "You should stay with your brother, Rhysand."

Rhys's breath shook as Helion's words and the way he spoke hit like an arrow. He spoke those words like he thought Azriel's days were numbered.

No one said anything until Helion was gone, at which point Rhys finally cleared his throat and blinked back the tears that had filled his eyes.

"Has he said anything else? Besides that she's coming?" Rhys asked no one in particular, his eyes not leaving Azriel's unconscious form.

"He said she has your eyes," Mor answered quietly, "and that she's chained in a cave."

It was quiet again for a few moments.

"If she's chained up in a cave, how, exactly, is she coming?" Rhys pondered, very obviously ignoring the first thing that had been said.

"Rhys," Mor said, her voice softer than he had heard it in a long time, "he said she had your eyes. I've never seen anyone outside of our bloodline with eyes like yours."

"She is not our blood," Rhys snapped, fury lighting up his violet eyes, "she's tormenting Azriel. She's not a part of our family."

"Blood doesn't mean family," Mor reminded him, her mind briefly drifting to her father. "But it does mean there's a connection. If she's of our bloodline, we can use that to track her down. We won't have to wait for her to come to us. We can find her ourselves and force her to end this."

Rhysand's jaw twitched and he was silent for a moment, considering what Mor had said. She was right. They could use their own blood to track this girl if she really was of their bloodline. His eyes finally drifted to Amren.

"Find a spell—" he began, only to be cut off.

"I have four," she said simply, "let's go."

Rhys nodded and looked to Cassian, who was already getting out of his seat.

"Stay with Azriel," Rhys requested of Cassian, "he shouldn't be left on his own."

Cassian wanted to argue, to insist on joining in on tracking down this girl. If she was the one guilty of putting his brother through so much suffering, he wanted to be there when she died for it. He wanted to be there when they found her and ended this.

"I'll stay with him while you work on the spell, but when you go to find her, I want to be there," he said, "we can ask Madja to stay with him during that time. She'll probably be more of a help to him if he hurt himself again than I would be anyway."

Rhys almost argued the point, almost reasoned that someone who could hold Azriel down if he tried harming himself should be here. But, looking at his unconscious brother—at how frail he had suddenly become over the last few days, he knew Madja could hold him down with no problem.

"I'll let you know when it's time to go," he replied with a nod, "and I'll check in with you if the spell takes a while and we're gone for longer than expected."

Cassian only nodded in response and after a tense moment of silence during which everyone just stared at Azriel, Rhysand left with Amren and Mor while Cassian remained behind.

Cassian didn't take his eyes off of Azriel, hardly even blinking. He shot up out of his seat and rushed to Azriel's bedside the moment the shadowsinger woke with a quiet groan.

"Water," Azriel managed to croak the word out.

Cassian quickly filled a glass from the pitcher of cold water in the room and helped Azriel sit up.

"Easy," he muttered when Azriel tried moving too fast and looked like he might throw up again, "slowly."

He kept a hand on Azriel's back to help him stay sitting up. Azriel lifted the glass to his lips with shaking hands and took a few short sips before handing the glass back to Cassian, who lowered him back down instead of keeping him sitting up.

"They're going to use her," Azriel muttered deliriously, eyes glazed over, "they're going to use her. They think she can kill him. And they think she'll give birth to the next High Lord."

Azriel coughed then, bits of blood coming out.

"Az—" Cassian began to say, cutting himself off in shock when Azriel's hand shot out and gripped his wrist, fingernails digging into his skin.

"She has eyes just like his," he spoke like it was something urgent, "just like his. They think she'll kill him."

Azriel laughed hysterically—the sound like nothing Cassian had ever heard from him before, his own blood gleaming on his cracked lips and his teeth.

"They said—they said a bastard is better than a half breed. They want him dead."

Azriel rolled over onto his side and vomited before once again falling unconscious.

Cassian felt a little ill as Azriel's words set in.

A bastard is better than a half breed.