A Court of Dusk and Dragons

4

Vebren stares into the distance as they wait at camp.

"Shell be here soon." Kaitlin assures him as she moves over to him. Everyone, but Aelin, Rowan, Fisrae and the dragons, was asleep. Suddenly, a small shape appears in the distance and Vebren grins.

"Shes here." He whispers, excitedly. Kaitlin smiles and shakes her head at her brother as the shape comes closer. Fisrae rises from her seat near the fire where she had been 'meditating' and strolls over to them, Cevas on her tail. Lavas and Erica looking over at the four. The figure lands, folding her dusk pink wings, the same color as her hair which she pushes out of her golden eyes. Vebrens grin widens and in a couple of steps he pulls the female into a hug before kissing her. Fisrae and Kaitlin roll their eyes but smile. The female embraces Cevas next and then Fisrae and Kaitlin.

"Took you a while." Fisrae snorts.

"Well it does take some time to travel all the way from the south of the Western Wastes to Terrasen." The female complains.

"Well its good to have you back, Nevaeh." Fisrae smiles.

"Its good to be back." Nevaeh agrees. "If you dont-" Fisrae smirks and nods. Nevaeh smiles and grabs Vebren before the two leave.

"Hopefully they go far away." Kaitlin mutters. Fisrae chuckles.

***

Rowan clicks his beak and flaps into the rain, sailing through his shield as if it parted for him. Aedion eases to his feet, scanning the forest, listening. Lysandra stretches, baring her long teeth as she does so, her needlike claws slipping free and glinting in the fire light. Evangeline, as they had taught her, creeps to the fire. The flames pull apart like drawn curtains to allow her and Fleetfoot, sensing the childs fear and pressing close, passage to an inner ring that would not burn them. But would melt the bones of their enemies. Aelin glances at Aedion in silent order, and he steps towards the western side of the fire, Lysandra taking up a spot at the southern point. Aelin takes the northern point but gazes west-towards where Rowan had flapped away. Fisrae analyses the forest as she circles the clearing, her Illyrian wings spread out, the spike at the apex gleaming in the fire light, her talons wrapped in darkness. Erica, Nevaeh and Kaitlin sit in trees, wings tucked in, invisible to even Fae eyes. Vebren, Cevas and Lavas circle the edges of the clearing, wings out too. Leaves rustle and branches snap. Rowan emerges from the rain in his Fae form, his silver hair plastered to his head, his tattoo stark on his tan face. No sign of the lords. But Rowan holds his hunting knife against the bared throat of a young, slender-nosed man and escorts him towards the fire - the strangers travel-stained, soaked cloak bearing Darrows crest of a striking badger.

"A messenger." Rowan grounds out.

***

The messengers blue eyes are wide, but his rain-slick, freckled face is calm. Steady. Even as he takes in Lysandra, her fangs gilded with firelight. Even as he takes in Fisrae and her bloodsworn, the darkness that clings to Fisraes body and the wings that jut from their backs. Even as Rowan nudges him forward, the cruel knife still angled at his throat.

"He cant very well deliver the message with a blade at his windpipe." Aedion jerks his chin at Rowan. Rowan lowers his weapon but doesnt sheathe it. Doesnt move more than a foot from the man. "Where are they?" The man bows swiftly to Aedion.

"At a tavern, four miles from here, General-" the man stops as Aelin at last steps around the curve of the fire. He let out a small noise. The man keeps glancing between her and Aedion, and as if the thought had hit him, he bows. Aelin watchew him. He stiffens, wide-eyed at Lysandras silent approach, her whislers twitching as she sniffs his wet clothes.

"Is the meeting cancelled?" Aedion says tightly, scanning the woods again.

"No, General- but they want you to come to the tavern where theyre staying. Because of the rain." The man winces.

"Go tell Darrow to drag his carcass out here. Water wont kill him." Aedion rolls his eyes.

"Its not Lord Darrow." The man offers quickly. "With all due respect, Lord Murtaughs slowed down this summer. Lord Ren didnt want him out in the dark and rain."

"You know well need to scout the tavern first. The meeting will be later than they want." Aedion sighs.

"Of course, General. Theyll expect that." The messenger cringes as he at last spots Evangeline and Fleetfoot within the flames ring of safety. And despite the Fae Prince armed beside him, despite the ghost leopard with unsheathed claws sniffing at him, the sight of Aelins fire makes his face go deathly pale. "But they are waiting - and Lord Darrow is impatient. Being outside Orynths walls makes him anxious. Makes us all anxious, these days." Aelin snorts.