Court of Shadows (Indefinite Hiatus)

PART 21: FEYRE & AELIN

Standing in the entryway to the balcony, Feyre once more overlooked the gardens. Specifically, she watched the near distant courtyard in which Aelin and the Queen's guards maintained their stony residence. A steady, gentle breeze rustled the sheer curtains on the sides of her body and stirred the fragrant air of the manor.

Feyre dug her fingers into the sides of the black velvet bag which she clutched in her hand, feeling the shifting compactness of the powder inside.

Reaching within herself, she tried again to find the bond which connected her and Rhysand. She tugged on and shouted down the line, but their tether had turned wispy and hard to grasp; the effort indulged a thick pounding at the base of her skull. There was no longer any question of whether or not the Hybern's poison-- the powder she held in her palm-- had made it into her system.

Feyre felt her powers growing thinner and more distant-- harder to conjure and hold on to. In the weeks following Queen Maeve's arrival, she had used very little of her magic for fear of revealing herself, so she didn't know how long her powers had been this affected. If the weakening sensation had been upon her for long, or if it really was the sudden infliction which she now felt. She also did not know how far the weakness would go, or how soon she would recover. So all she could do was hope that she maintained enough of her magic for what came next.

First, Feyre called a light wind from across the manor to the center of the gardens, where the courtyard stood. She focused on directing the wind through the flower-abundant bushes and rose gardens, aiming to intensify the sweet, musty scent which Fenrys had informed her could overwhelm the male guard's senses. The night before, testing for herself, Feyre had been unable to detect a noticeable smell to the Hybern's thin powder, but she wanted to lower the risk of detection as much as possible.

She peered at the courtyard in the distance, watching for change among the six figures. When nothing happened, Feyre pulled open the velvet bag and poured the majority of the powder into the cupped palm of her hand. Somewhere in her mind, she imagined a loud, reverberate tolling of a great bell tower or clock watching over her movements.

Again, she called forth a wind, pulling the breeze up to the balcony and across her hands, where it gradually picked up amounts of the white powder and swept them into the air. Releasing the breath that she had been holding, Feyre then began moving the powder-filled air down through the green winding hedges and toward the stone courtyard.

As far as she could tell, Aelin had received her message, for the chained woman's figure remained low to the ground.

The strain the poison had put on Feyre's powers quickly intensified as she carried the powder into the courtyard, spreading the air to reach the space just above all of the males' figures. Her muscles were tense, and the dull throb in her head began to sharpen.

Breathing through the tension, Feyre redirected the light breeze into a slow circular motion within the hedged courtyard to keep the powder from settling lower. When the breeze pattern became stable, she gradually lowered the ring of slowly circulating air until it was level with what Feyre thought would be the tall male warriors' lines of sight.

Feyre stabilized the breeze once more and continued watching intently for any sign of acknowledgement of what she was doing. Fearful uncertainty gnawed at the back of her mind. She'd known that if she had any shot of helping Aelin escape, that she would have to incapacitate the Queen's males. Or at least do something to weaken them. The idea of a poison that could damper magic had struck Feyre like an epiphany; however, she was uncertain of how far the powder would affect the males' unfamiliar powers.

The other point of concern was that Feyre had found no other way to administer the poison. She never saw the males eat or drink, and she was certain that, when they did, it wasn't from the manor kitchens. So, her next available method which could maintain anonymity was through the air. Practicing the night before, Feyre had determined that the white powder was light enough to be carried by the air and fine enough to appear transparent. So inhalation of the poison became her next only tangible idea.