Dance of Fate

Chapter Seventy Two

Azriel kept his eyes fixed on Asteria as they all assembled in the Town House. Her face had turned a deathly shade of white, her usually blood red lips the lightest shade of pink. She hadn't ceased trembling since she had announced that the wall had been destroyed. 

She stared at nothing, violet eyes utterly empty. Not a glimmer of power in them, not a glimpse of her magic since her small loss of control in the Dawn Court. Not a single glance towards him since he had shielded her body with his own.

 Azriel had barely been able to ignore the instincts that screamed at him. He hadn't been able to stop the lone shadow that parted from him and now swirled around her.

"We should have evacuated months ago," Nesta said, her plate of roast chicken and vegetables untouched. It was the first words any of them had spoken in minutes while they'd all picked at their food.

Rhys was saying to Nesta, "We can go to your estate tonight—evacuate your household and bring them back here."

"They will not come."

"Then they will likely die."

"Can't you spirit them away somewhere south—far from here?" Nesta asked.

"That many people? Not without first finding a safe place, which would take time we don't have. "Rhys considered. "If we get a ship, they can sail—"

"They will demand their families and friends come."

A beat of silence. Not an option. Then Elain said quietly, "We could move them to Graysen's estate."

Everyone, even Asteria, faced the female at that. She explained, "His father has high walls—made of thick stone. With space for plenty of people and supplies." The female went on, "his father has been planning for something like this for... a long time. They have defenses, stores... And a grove of ash trees, with a cache of weapons made from them." 

"If the faeries who attack possess magic," Cassian said, and Elain recoiled at the harsh tone, "then thick stone won't do much."

"There are escape tunnels," Elain whispered. "Perhaps it is better than nothing."

A glance between the Illyrians. "We can set up a guard—" Cassian began.

"No," Elain interrupted. "They ... Graysen and his father ..."

Cassian's jaw tightened. "Then we cloak—"

"They have hounds. Bred and trained to hunt you. Detect you." Azriel couldn't help the clench of his jaw as he thought about how, exactly, those hounds had been trained. 

"You can't mean to leave their castle undefended," Cassian tried a shade more gently. "Even with the ash, it won't be enough. We'd need to set wards at the very minimum."

Elain considered. "I can speak to him."

"No," Feyre and Nesta barked at once. 

"If—if you and ... they"—a glance at Rhys, at all of them—"come with me, your Fae scents might distract the dogs."

"You're Fae, too," Nesta reminded her.

"Glamour me," Elain said to Rhys. "Make me look human. Just long enough to convince him to open his gates to those seeking sanctuary. Perhaps even let you set those wards around the estate." 

"This could end very badly, Elain." Feyre warned her sister. 

"It's already ended badly. Now it's just a matter of deciding how we meet the consequences." She said quietly.