A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

86: The Star

Leur

I had no idea if I had ever flown this fast for this long, if anyone had ever flown this distance. It seemed feasible enough, the kind of journey where it seems plausible on a map.

And then you're doing it.

And then your power is drained and you're barely even breathing anymore.

And then you're carrying your mate, who is twice your size and dead.

And then you're staring out into the middle of the sea, nothing in any direction but endless blue waves, and the only way you can tell that you're going the right direction is by looking at the sun.

Nowhere to stop, nowhere to rest. There was only me and endless ocean. It didn't matter anyways. I was almost positive that if I stopped moving, my shattered heart would simply stop beating. I flew until I could barely breathe anymore, and then winnowed as far as I could.

Over and over again.

Until the distance, I could force myself to winnow dwindled down to mere miles.

Still, it was something.

Those few seconds in limbo, where I became wind and shadow, that was my only break. The only pause from the weight of his body in my arms, from the tears that would not stop streaming down my cheeks, from the strain on my back even with Tamlin's shifted wings.

Perhaps it was sheer will that kept me going.

Nothing but desperation, an absolute need to save the male in my arms.

The world looked duller without him in it.

The sun did not shine as bright, the sky was not as blue. As if everything had shifted into sepia, a colorless plane of sorrow.

And as I flew, I recounted every memory I could think of. Stories from our childhood, the first day I met him, funny things I could remember about Rhys and Cassian, memories of watching him train, of watching him become a warrior. I told him how I fell in love with him, every moment that I refused to admit it, the day I realized he was my mate, our last starfall together. I told him how it was his name that made me remember everything, of every moment I thought of him when I was in Solarea, of the flowers I planted for him outside the Moonstone palace, of the years I spent designing the House of Song for him.

But most importantly, I told him how I survived this.

I told him how I clung onto our bond, how I clung onto him, how I drifted in that darkness repeating his name over and over again. I begged him to do the same, begged him to hold on.

"Just wait." I begged between panting breaths, "I'm going to fix you. I'm going to bring you back, just hold on for me."

When I finally saw land, I cried in relief. White hot tears streaming down my face, dripping onto his ashen face as he lay in my arms. Still, the Ingysi was far enough inland that I had a long way to make it yet. My body screamed for me to land, for me to rest for just a moment.

But I could not.

If I stopped, if I sat down, I would never get back up again.

"We're almost there, Az." I spoke to him through tears, "Almost there, just hold on."

Over the shoreline of Adhira, through miles upon miles of woods, into the Amarian Mountians, through peaks and valleys, over lakes and dense brush. I flew even when my wings began failing me, even as I could have sworn that they ripped in the pressure of the wind. I carried him even when my arms were so sore I was certain they had caught fire. I carried on even when I barely had the strength to keep my heart beating.