DISCONTINUED A Court Of Blood And Night (Tog & ACOTAR crossover)

29 - Aedion

Thank you for all the "Get well" wishes! It turns out I simply have a cold made worse by asthma. My issue with coughing up blood is likely due to a minor blood vessel breaking since I was coughing so much. It's likely healed by now, so now I'm just tired and healing.

Manon Blackbeak and the Thirteen were none too happy to be ordered around by Aedion, but nevertheless, they tolerated him. Barely. Often, there was a flash of iron teeth or claws, or, if they were killing something, they never took their eyes off of him, as if imagining he was the one they were ripping apart. He silently cursed Rowan for throwing him to the witches every time that happened.

But they hadn't killed him yet, and he kept any orders he wished to make to himself until they were in a good mood. Gavriel they tolerated as well, but they had to be in a special kind of mood to listen to Ansel without ripping out her throat. Amren and Manon were still stuck in their little war.

For the second night in a row as Aedion stared at the canopy of trees above him, he wondered how much longer Aelin would remain a captive. Every day, he was to search the ground with Galan, Gavriel, Amren, and Ansel-- who Rowan had sent with Manon after days of indecision-- while the Thirteen searched the skies. And every day, the tightness in his chest worsened. Once again, his cousin was locked away, a slave to Maeve and her Cadre.

He had debts to pay to some of them. Cairn specifically. He wasn't sure how he'd repay the male for brutally whipping his cousin, but he had a lot of time these past few months to get creative.

Around him, the witches slept, and Ansel kept watch. The fire burned brightly, lighting her profile as she faced the opposite direction. He wondered if she'd fallen asleep. She was so still, like a statue. Like a corpse.

Aedion sighed and rolled over to face the trees on his other side. Shadows whispered and moved as the wind stirred the branches, making them clatter. It was an eerie sound, but Aedion was too tired to care.

He felt himself drifting, but he jerked awake when a hand roughly shook him. He glanced up at Ansel to see her with her finger over her lips in warning. Around him, the witches had awoken, as had Galan, Gavriel, and Amren. Amren especially looked grumpy. They had put out the fire, and Aedion shivered in the cold as he sat up.

Around him was a ringing, empty silence. He strained to listen for whatever had set off the alarm, but the silence stretched on. He was about to snort and go back to sleep, as some of them had already done, but then he heard something echo through the trees. A pause, then he heard it again, and realized it was a voice talking.

More talking, and different tones. Two voices, then. Possibly three. Quiet, but loud enough to be close. He silently got to his feet and grabbed his sword, pulling it from its sheath that rested on the ground. The witches who had attempted to go to sleep opened their eyes and grudgingly got to their feet as well.

The owners of the voices were walking toward them. Every sentence was just a little bit louder, and soon they could hear bushes rustling as the companions manuevered around branches as they talked. Quickly enough, Aedion figured out more about them. Three voices; two male, one female. The men sounded like they were wary, but not scared, and the female... Was she irritated? Tired? Afraid? All three? Aedion couldn't tell.

Around them, the world was dark, and the trees loomed on every side. Through the thick canopy, a small portion of the sky with a slight smattering of stars, glittering and cold, stared down at them as they waited for the voices to come in range.

Slowly, they did. And the more they did, the more it sounded like they were arguing. Or, two of the three. It sounded like the third just wanted them to shut up.

"If that is how you wish to go about this," the female voice snapped, "then go ahead and do it alone. You'll get us all killed."

Before the male she was arguing with could reply, the other one snapped, "Quiet. We don't know where we are and for all we know, we could be in enemy territory."

Amren's chin lifted slightly, silver eyes flaring. Did she know them?

The female didn't shut up. Instead she said, "I don't see why we have to sneak around like this in the dead of night. With my position, and your alliance to the King, we're perfectly safe." She sounded confident enough.

"We're sneaking about because we don't know where we are, and until we do, walking around during the daytime could get us killed. Not everyone is so anxious to please the King, priestess." The first male spat out the word like it tasted bad.

"That's High Priestess to you, Jurian," the female said, and she sounded smug about it.

"With all due respect--" the other male gritted out, and they came into sight. The male who had quite obviously been the one talking sighed. "And this is why you stay quiet," he told his companions.

Aedion, Gavriel, Galan, Ansel, and the Thirteen all had their weapons ready. Amren was just glaring.

The other male-- a man, actually, Aedion realized-- raised his hands high enough that Aedion could see he held no weapons. "We're just passing through," the man said, and Aedion glanced at the others. Manon's eyes glowed with an animal brightness as she considered the three in front of her.

"Which of you is the most disposable?" Manon finally asked, and Aedion frowned. What was she doing? He realized with a churn in his stomach that she was smiling.

"Ianthe," the human said flatly. There was no doubt in his voice. The hooded female turned her head, likely to glare at him. At their blank looks, he added, "The female here." Aedion glanced at Amren. She seemed to agree.

"Well then," Manon purred. "I suppose I'll kill you first." She took a step forward, but then Asterin grabbed her shoulder, halting her stride. Manon glared, and she glared right back.

"Where are you headed?" The blonde-haired witch asked, her voice quiet, but not weak.

"I'm going to the Spring Court," Ianthe said, holding her head higher as she turned to look at her.

"Why?"

"I live there."

The Spring Court. Just like Tamlin and Lucien. Aedion exchanged a glance with Asterin, who nodded slowly. She had the same idea. Perhaps this female and her companions would hold some sway later on, when they returned.

"Well," he said, "Then today's your lucky day. You're coming with us. All three of you. And if you refuse, I have no doubt that Manon would thoroughly enjoy hunting you down." The witch said nothing, but she seemed to be in agreement. Amren was frowning in disapproval, but said nothing.

A few of the witches grabbed the three prisoners and guided them to sit near them. Aedion struck the fire again, agitating the wood until it caught.

Jurian might have protested. Aedion could see him readying himself to do so, but Manon flashed her fangs in the firelight. He looked away, and his eyes widened when he met Amren's gaze, and he was scared into silence. It seemed that they knew each other.

With a satisfied nod at the fire, Aedion laid down, rolled over onto his side, sword beside him, and fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

Yeah, she had to come back at some point, unfortunately. If only Ianthe had died in a pit of fire before the deal was made...