A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

39: Poison

Feyre

The tension in the camp was like a sickness, creeping over my very bones. The gore, the death, gutted me. And there was only so much I could do, only so much that any of us could do. Illyrians were dying, and I had drained myself dry trying to save as many as possible. Until I was nothing but skin and bones, layered with the scent of battle, barely able to keep myself awake in the tent.

Azriel sat next to me. There was nothing on his face. No shock, no grief. Nothing I had expected to be there. Mor had eventually come in as the sounds from outside dulled to softness, and sat with him. He didn't move, didn't care. She spoke to him, shook his shoulder gently, but he just kept staring. Just like earlier, when I had to go into his mind and pull him out of Leur's.Cassian had brought him here, set him down, and he hadn't moved since. I didn't know where Leur and Rhys had gone, hadn't seen them since they left the ship and I pulled out of Rhys's mind.

Something is wrong with Azriel, I shot down the mating bond, only to find a wall of black adamant. No crack for me to squeeze through, nothing but that dark, unyielding wall. Mor ran out the door of the tent, and I moved to the spot she had vacated. I placed a comforting hand on Azriel's shoulder, he paid it no mind.

Rhys, I pounded against the wall again, Something is wrong.

Nothing.

He just kept staring, barely breathing, barely shocked. I tried to think of anything to say, anything that would make this darkness cease. But what could be said? What could I do to make this better?

Leur had been pregnant when they killed her, Azriel's child in her womb. That's why her father had sent her to exile, why it had to be a blood bargain; so that child could never be known to Prythian, never be able to come home and claim a right to the throne of the Night Court.

Until the King had... until he had...

I could barely even think the words, trying to imagine what she went through, what Tamlin had found when he came across her body, how the King had managed to kill the child in her womb.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry, Azriel." I whispered to the unmoving Illyrian next to me.

Cassian and Mor rushed into the tent then, the former crouching in front of his brother and shaking his shoulders. I moved back to give him space, as Cassian spoke in a commanding voice.

"You gotta snap out of this, man." He said, "Stop it, Az."

But he didn't move. No recognition snapped on his face, nothing.

Rhys! I pounded against that wall on the far end of the bond, Rhys!

"We need to find Leur." Mor panted next to me, something like wild fear in her eyes, "Why hasn't she come?"

"Maybe she has him blocked." I answered, "Rhys has his shields up so high I can barely even feel him on the other side. I have no idea where either of them went."

"Azriel!" Cassian shook his brother, "You can't do this again!"

An idea struck me, and I reached out with my power. Azriel's mind was nearly unshielded, enough for me to slip right in. It was strange, being able to hear his shadows in his ear. It sounded like a melody, a thrumming symphony, a chorus of singers with a voice like a night kissed wind. It wasn't particularly words, more like a string of melodies instead of sentences, roaring in his head. In the distance of that music, I could have sworn it sounded like Leur's voice.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts of his shadows, pushing deeper into the corners of his mind.

An image of two dead bodies, laying in a field of blood. Headless bodies. Headless, wingless bodies.