Dance of Fate

Chapter Twenty Three

The sun had already started to set when Azriel finally agreed to finalize our little lesson.

Despite the hours spent and the trees destroyed, we hardly made any progress. At least I got down to only destroying three trees when aiming for one.

Azriel had been unsettlingly patient the entire time. He never left aside from two times to bring us food, and never complained, despite having wasted his entire day with me. He'd insisted he had a free day, although I knew for certain it wasn't true.

Even though I wasn't any closer to mastering my power, I was exhausted enough that it seemed to calm. That was something, I supposed. Though something told me our training wasn't entirely for the purpose of learning to control my magic. It seemed like Azriel was trying to distract me, to get me to do something that didn't involve drinking myself stupid or staring at the ceiling until my own thoughts almost consumed me.

And I would never admit it aloud, but it worked.

Cassian and Mor were in the Town House's sitting room, waiting for Rhysand and Feyre to arrive. I hadn't even known that they'd returned to the Prison.

"And where have you two been?" Mor asked with a suggestive smirk on her face as she picked at her nails. I paused, my mind blanking as I tried to muster up an excuse.

By some miracle from the Mother herself, I didn't get the chance.

"Amren's right," Rhys drawled as he strolled into the room, Feyre by his side. "You are like dogs, waiting for me to come home. Maybe I should buy you treats." I smiled, both at his remark and at how nice it was to see him in a relatively good mood. Cassian gave him a vulgar gesture from where he lounged on the couch beside Mor.

Despite the exhaustion that harnessed my entire body, I remained standing, since Feyre had already taken up the armchair across from the couch. And because I knew whatever Rhysand was about to tell us wouldn't be good, and the male that lingered beside me, cocooned by shadows, provided an inexplainable sense of comfort.

"How'd it go?" Mor asked carefully, the humor and smirk that had been on her face moments ago vanished without a trace.

My eyes flashed to Feyre, only to find that her blue eyes were already on me. I gave her a light smile, a silent gesture of approval. She returned it, though it was gratitude that shone in her eyes.

""The Bone Carver," Rhys said, "is a busybody gossip who likes to pry into other people's business far too much."

"But?" Cassian went on, bracing his arms on his knees, wings tucked in tight.

"But, he can also be helpful, when he chooses. And it seems we need to start doing what we do best." Rhys said.

Everyone remained silent, so Rhys launched into his explanation. "Apparently, the Cauldron used to be where all magic was contained. It was the base of all life, and if it were destroyed, life would cease to be. It could bring people back from the dead, and destroy the Wall." My heart skipped a beat. "Long ago, the Cauldron fell into the wrong hands." Rhys paused for a moment, and I felt my pulse begin to race. Beside me, I felt Azriel shift closer to me. I didn't back away for once.

"Terrible things were forged. And so it was stolen back and hidden, though it vanished millennia ago. The three feet from which it stands where removed with the purpose of minimizing some of its power." He took a labored breath. "The three feet were hidden in the temples of Cesere, Sangravah, and Itica."

That was why those temples had been sacked. But so many others had been as well. Had it been a distraction? Or had whoever was searching for the Cauldron's feet been unsure where they were hidden? My head began to pound with questions, but before I could voice any of them, Azriel was speaking.