DISCONTINUED A Court of Blood and Night Rewritten

29

The frozen wind whistled through the mountains, so powerful that it tore at their skin and whipped at their clothes. Rowan squinted through the ice and snow at the horizon ahead. The sky was gray, heavy with storm clouds, and it didn't look like it would let up anytime soon. They'd been traveling for weeks, and the Anascul mountains was so far the worst of it.

"Rowan," he heard someone shout over the wind. He whipped around, worried that someone had gotten hurt. The tightness in his chest eased when he saw that everyone looked fine. Lorcan was staring at him, dark hair lashing about his face. He was squinting through the snow, too, dark eyes so narrow that he barely glimpsed them. "Perhaps we should stop. The storm won't pass until late tonight at least. We won't be able to do anything in this weather."

He knew it. Had been thinking about suggesting they set up camp, himself. But everything in him fought against the idea of stopping. Two more days of travel and they would reach the end of the mountains. But it would do no good if everyone was so exhausted after the journey that they couldn't fight. Marve and Cairn would not let Aelin go without one, and he doubted that passing through the Anascul mountains would mark the end of the journey.

So, against the part of him that roared and raged at the idea of stopping, he nodded to Lorcan. "I agree. We all need rest." It was an effort to force the words from his mouth. A few of them sighed in relief.

Setting up camp didn't take long, and fires were quickly set, snapping defiantly in the frozen wind. His companions gathered around the fires, hudding for warmth. They all looked exhausted and worn down. He'd been pushing them hard in these weeks.

After a moment, he turned away from the fire to take first watch, shivering from cold but too focused on observing the terrain for Valg to care. He could take care of his body later, when his mate was safe from harm.

The darkness stretched on toward the horizon, and as time went on the darkness grew. The air rumbled with distant thunder, and he could feel the static of the coming lightning storm that was sure to hit. The whine of the wind was too loud to hear anything else, so Rowan found himself depending on scent. The wind surged in waves of rage, quieting only for mere moments before picking up again, screaming with fervor. It tore at his hair and clothes, pitched snow off of the mountain, and sent debris barreling into the makeshift camp. This was going to be a long night.

The wind whispered nothing, admitted nothing but the silence that lay beneath it. The only hearts that beat on these mountains were those belonging to himself and his companions. Still, Rowan watched and listened for those quick pockets of silence that might betray something.

It was only after his companions settled in for the night that the High Lord finally approached him. Rowan had sensed it all day-- his hesitance. Had waited as the male debated with himself whether or not to talk with him, or to leave it be. It seemed that he had finally made up his mind. The dark-haired male settled beside him, shuddering with cold, and Rowan only glanced at him in a curt greeting.

"You don't talk much," Rhysand said over the screaming wind. "And I won't ask you to. All I request is that you listen to me, if you can manage it." Rowan didn't glance at him, though his interest piqued slightly.

"I've made a lot of friends, and I've made a lot of enemies, as I'm sure you have done as well," Rhysand began quietly. "In the six centuries I've been alive, I've never made better friends than the ones you've met in my Court. Being a High Lord means I'm responsible for whatever happens to them, and I am not about to let my friends or my wife-- by the Cauldron, not even Tamlin-- die because you never tell us anything."

"Wife?" Rowan repeated, cutting him a glance. Rhysand gave him a calculating stare, as if debating what to tell him.

"Feyre," he finally said. "She was doing some spying for me when we were taken. It was a mutual decision that she would continue doing so for as long as we deemed it necessary."