The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 24

She stared into the darkness through her own eyes before being jerked back. Locked away. Consumed by overwhelming, heavy, thick blackness.

"It could easily take up to a fortnight for your body to give up. I can only imagine the things the darkest corner of your mind will conjure for you until then."

Her throat burned, raw from desperation. She didn't know where one terror ended and the next began, and even the in-between was a nightmare.

She would die here. Alone.

Searing hot anguish seized her heart, tearing it apart as she thought of her friends. Nesta, Emerie, Cassian.

Azriel.

Did he know how much she loved him? Truly?

She had never cared for the mating bond - never wanted her future decided for her in that way - but in this moment? She desperately wished she was his, if only so she could somehow reach out to him and tell him that he was loved and that he was worthy and that she wanted him to keep laughing and living and that she would always watch over him.

"I love you, Shadowsinger," she whispered to the dark.

Only demons answered.

~~~

Azriel hadn't slept, and his shadows were faint and thin as candle smoke. He was as alert as he could be, the weight of desperation like chains upon his shoulders and wings. He glanced around the war room, doing his best to ignore the pitying glances that Feyre and Mor had sent his way.

"Alright. Let's go over it again. Tell me everything we've done and everything we know," Cassian's deep, grim voice silenced the low murmur around the enormous table. The spymaster had scoffed at its size when he'd first seen it, but he found himself grateful as his exhausted eyes fell upon the map of the city and the detailed floorplans of each level of the library.

"We have spoken to every priestess in the library, as well as two who had recently transitioned to new homes. The last one to see Gwyn recalled seeing her following Merrill from the corridor leading to her office. She didn't note anything odd aside from the fact that Merrill doesn't usually exit her office, instead opting to send those in her charge to run her errands," Mor offered.

"She allowed me to look into her mind," the High Lady added, eyes shuttering, "but we could glean nothing else."

"And Clotho confirmed that, while Merrill's quarters were sparse to begin with, her few possessions are gone and she has not seen her since the morning of the day that Gwyn went missing." Mor's shadowed eyes found his again, worry bracketing her mouth.

"Azriel and I have searched the library, top to bottom, and have asked any priestesses we find if they know of any additional crevices or hiding places. We have also started sifting through much of the paperwork left in her study to see if there is any indication as to where she or Gwyn may be." The eldest Archeron worked on a swallow. "Most of what we've found seem to be manuscripts and scribbles about her research."

The shadowsinger regarded Nesta, knowing that she and Emerie were likely feeling something similar to the emotions that roiled through him.

Fear.

Desperation.

Heartache.

Nesta had found him in Merrill's study - frozen, clutching Gwyn's friendship bracelet as if it could somehow lead him to the warrior he'd fallen in love with. She'd held him, gripping his face between her hands, swore to him that they would find her. But there had been no mistaking the uncertainty and panic in her silver-lined eyes.