A Court of Rage and Fire

Chapter 15

Chill dawn air bit Nesta's flesh as they ascended the winding path to the apse. At first, Eris had sent hot breaths of magic along her skin, but she had asked him to stop. She didn't mind the cold soil on her bare feet or the nip of the wind through her simple, loosely fitted, undyed gown. Neither did Eris, apparently, as he walked alongside her with pink cheeks, though his steadying hand at the small of her back was warm when he reached out during the rockiest parts of the climb.

When Gwyn, Emerie, Elain, and Ada had finished braiding her hair with tiny violet flowers that Elain had brought from the Night Court and sent her alone to find Eris in the Forest, she had been shocked to see him dressed as simply as her, as he usually dressed as beautifully and colorfully as a peacock in jewel tones and rich fabrics. And while his usual wardrobe complemented his Autumn coloring, something about the simplicity of his colorless shirt and trousers and lack of jewelry made his cold, pale beauty almost ethereal. Nesta too felt strange in her bare feet and flowers and wool gown, more like the fabled faeries of stories she'd read in her childhood than she had ever felt before as an actual Fae. She had soon realized the practical reason for leaving their finery behind, to be donned after bathing and before the reception, as the hike was long and soon had them dirt-stained and mussed from clambering over rocky ascents and fallen trees.

Though she had not known what to expect, Nesta knew the moment they reached the apse. The Forest starkly changed, both in appearance and energy, as brown and jewel-colored woods gave way to pure, glittering gold and trembling sunlight. Like an island within the Forest grew a grove of identical slender trees, straight-trunked and white-barked with yellow leaves that fluttered incessantly. Their size and bright coloring and easy movement made them feel lively and young, and yet the Forest here was nearly silent other than the light breeze in the leaves, which still seemed much quieter than it should have been. They continued to walk until the gnarled wood disappeared behind them, leaving only white and gold in every direction as far as the eye could see.

"We're here." Eris indicated a rocky outcrop in the hillside where a spring gushed forth and flowed into a babbling brook. Watching Nesta look around the apse, he said, "It doesn't look like it, but these trees are the oldest in Prythian. They have seen Courts rise and fall, rifts in the world, and magic since the beginning of our people."

"It's beautiful," she said in wonder, watching the leaves tirelessly ripple despite the barely discernible breeze.

Eris bent to the spring, washed his face and hands and feet, then drank greedily after the long hike. Nesta did the same while Eris set down his satchel. He pulled out a cloth of gold and laid it on a boulder like it was an altar. In the Autumn Court, Nesta supposed it was.

On the gold cloth, Eris arranged the tools of their ritual: a flask of oil, a bowl of salt, a little golden dagger inlaid with rubies, a glass chalice that he filled with water from the spring. Then he pulled out a long cord that smelled of sweet oil and spicy herbs and laid it on the ground in a wide circle around the altar.

Eris reached into the satchel one more time and pulled out an intricately braided cord, made of ribbons in Autumn colors. "Are you ready?" he asked, the cord stretched across his two open hands.

Something about the air seemed to press coldly against her body, like trying to squeeze through a crack in a cave. And Nesta knew something in the very fabric of fate was straining against her will, telling her No.

Nesta raised her chin and parted her lips to say the words. The air pressed against her mouth, jammed down her throat, urging her toward the tamed fate that she had been born for. That she never had a choice in. It dragged her thoughts toward a part of her that she had corked in a bottle and buried deep inside her with no intention of exhuming.