Acotar retelling

The Return

I gave myself a minute to kneel in the remnants of the entry hall.
Then I eased to my feet, careful not to disturb any of the shattered glass or wood or—blood. There were splatters of it everywhere, along with small puddles and smears down the gouged walls. Another forest, I told myself. Another set of tracks.
Slowly, I moved across the floor, tracing the information left. It had been a vicious fight—and

from the blood patterns, most of the damage to the house had been done during the fight, not afterward. The crushed glass and footprints came and went from the front and back of the house, as if the whole place had been surrounded. The intruders had needed to force their way in through the front door; they'd just completely shattered the doors to the garden.

My hands shook as I paused before the dining room doors, both barely hanging on their hinges.

I couldn't tell if the damage was from his lashing out after Rhysand's arrival the day before my departure or if someone else had caused it. The giant table was in pieces, the windows smashed, the curtains in shreds. But no blood—there was no blood here. And from the prints in the shards of glass ...

I studied the trail across the floor. It had been disturbed, but I could make out two sets—large and side by side—leading from where the table had been. As if Tamlin and Lucien had been sitting in here as the attack happened, and walked out without a fight.

I traced the steps to the doorway, squatting for a moment to work through the churned-up shards, dirt, and blood. They'd been met here—by multiple sets of prints. And headed toward the garden—

Debris crunched from down the hall. I drew my hunting knife and ducked farther into the dining room, scanning for a place to hide. But everything was in pieces. With no other option, I lunged behind the open door. I pressed a hand over my mouth to keep from breathing too loudly and peered through the crack between the door and the wall.

Something limped into the room and sniffed. I could only see its back—cloaked in a plain cape, medium height ... All it had to do to find me was shut the door. Perhaps if it came far enough into the dining room, I could slip out—but that would require leaving my hiding spot. Perhaps it would just look around and then leave.

The figure sniffed again, and my stomach clenched. It could smell me. I dared a better glance at it, hoping to find a weakness, a spot for my knife, if things came down to it.

The figure turned slightly toward me.
I cried out, and the figure screeched as I shoved away the door. "Alis."
She gaped at me, a hand on her heart, her usual brown dress torn and dirty, her apron gone entirely. Not bloodied, though—nothing save for the slight limp that favoured her right ankle as she rushed for me, her tree-bark skin bleaching birch white. "You can't be here." She took in my knife, the bow and quiver. "You were told to stay away."
"I know." I pushed off the table and squared my shoulders. "How do I get Under the Mountain?"

She clicked her tongue. "You can't go Under the Mountain. No human who goes in ever comes out."

I squeezed my fists so hard that my nails bit into my flesh. "How. Do. I. Get. There."
"It's suicide—she'll kill you, even if you get close enough to see her."
Amarantha had tricked him—she had hurt him so badly. Hurt them all so badly.
"You're a human," Alis went on, standing as well. "Your flesh is paper-thin."

Amarantha had taken everything I wanted, everything I dared desire. "Show me the way," I said, my voice trembling, but not with tears.
"No." Alis slung her satchel over a shoulder. "Go home. I'll take you as far as the wall. There's naught to be done now. Tamlin will remain her slave forever, and Prythian will stay under her rule. That's what Fate dealt, that was what the Eddies of the Cauldron decided."

"I don't believe in Fate."
She shook her head again, her wild brown hair like glistening mud in the dim light.
"Take me to her," I insisted.
If Amarantha ripped out my throat, at least I would die doing something for him—at least I would die trying to fix the destruction I hadn't prevented, trying to save the people I'd doomed. At least Rhysand would know it was for him, and that I loved him. Alis studied me for a moment before her eyes softened. "As you wish."