Dance of Fate

Chapter Twenty Five

I regretted snapping at Azriel. But I wouldn't explain myself, or try to apologize. It was a good thing I had pushed him away. I don't think I would be able to look him in the eye or speak to him normally with the secret I now held.

I didn't sleep at all, useless questions I would never know the answer to echoing in my mind.
Where the hell had my power come from?
How was it possible that it was interconnected with the Cauldron?
Could I destroy the Cauldron?

I groaned, rubbing my face harshly. My skull throbbed, exhaustion nipping at me.

I wished I had someone to talk to about it. Cassian, who had sworn to secrecy, was the only one who knew. But I couldn't talk about it with him. Not when, despite how much he tried to hide it, pity and caution danced in his eyes whenever he looked at me now. I didn't blame him; in fact, I owed him for agreeing to keep something this big from everyone, from his family- I almost felt guilty enough to tell him to forget it. Almost.

I had decided not to tell the others. They would never agree to let me try, not if they knew the risk involved. And with the Book still being an option, we weren't desperate enough that I might be able to convince them.

But if we couldn't find the Book, or if it didn't work, I would try. Maybe I wouldn't tell them beforehand- maybe I could go to Hybern alone and test my theory. In the worst of cases it wouldn't work, and I would be discovered and killed. Could be worse.

I would think of that after we tried with the Book.

In a few days, Feyre, Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel would be going to the mortal lands, to Feyre's estate, to speak with the mortal queens. Rhysand had asked me to go, and I had yet to give him an answer. I had never been to the mortal lands, and supposed nothing bad could come of going. It was the fact that I would have to see and possibly speak to Azriel that held me back.

I forced myself not to think about the Shadowsinger as I dressed. With Feyre and Rhys gone to see the Weaver, and everyone else attending to their respective duties, the House was too empty.

I opted to go to the Mountains instead, to try to continue training my power. Whatever progress I had made the other day was gone. In fact, my power seemed worse than before. And the more I messed up, the more my frustration grew, which only made me mess up more. I must have misted at least a hundred trees before I decided I was done.

Exhausted, starving and irritated, I stomped into the sitting room of the Town House. To my surprise, it wasn't empty.

"You look like hell." Mor purred as she looked me up and down. I huffed, plopping down beside her on the velvet couch. I stretched my legs, my bones aching with fatigue. "Where have you been all day? I was hoping we could go shopping. I imagine you have nothing to wear to the mortal realm. You are going, right?" I blinked, taking a moment to take in all that she said in only one breath.

"I was training." I said. Mor rolled her brown eyes. I sighed, rubbing my throbbing temples. "I don't know. Are you?"

The blonde female shook her head lightly. "Why?" I asked softly.

"I don't think I will be able to bear it. But, when the mortal queens come, I will be there." She admitted. I nodded. I knew exactly what Mor meant, knew what she had lived through in the Court of Nightmares, and how similarly women were treated in the human lands. It was no surprise she didn't want to go.

"You should go." She told me. I pursed my lips, and Mor eyed me warily. "I think I know why you don't want to."

I lifted my eyebrows. "Oh?"

Mor shrugged, her golden hair shining in the candlelight. "Azriel was brooding more than usual today." She said casually. As I opened my mouth to argue, she spoke. "And I saw you both storm out the other day. And only you came back." I loosed a breath in defeat.