A Court of Ice and Fire

Chapter 43

It was chaos as soon as the words escaped Rhysand's lips, and pure terror seeps into my bones as I look up at Idris and Roma, who are both wearing equally shocked faces. "We have to tell my father—we need those armies. Now." I say, allowing Idris to help me to my feet as she nods her head in agreement.

The other High Lords were already promising their own armies—and none of them were opposed. Azriel looks about ready to object, but I shake my head, telling him not to. "You need to go with Rhys—figure out Hybern's movements. He needs you right now. And if we have any hope of winning this war, my people need to get here."

He pursed his lips together into a thin line, but he knew I was right. Both Cassian and Mor gave me a long embrace—both of them saying they would see me soon. Feyre looked like she was seconds away from telling me not to go, and I gave her a soft smile before pulling her into a hug.

"See you on the battlefield sis." Words I never thought I would say, but they came out just the same. She tenses her arms around me, pulling me in closer.

"Be careful. Swear it." She demands, and I laugh, shaking my head as I do a light tug on her power—pulling it inward as I prepare to winnow. The mixture of energies settle inside my bones, and I take a step back, shrugging my shoulders.

"Being careful is boring." I muse, and despite the poor use of humor, she smiles. When I turn to give my farewell to Azriel, I resist the urge to stay—to make sure he doesn't get himself hurt.

If there's an attack and I'm not here and he gets hurt- "I'll be fine." He says softly, reading my thoughts. "Go. I'll send word on our movements when I can." He tells me, and I nod my head, swallowing the growing lump in my throat.

I lean up to press a firm kiss on his lips, and I have to force myself to step away as Idris places a gentle hand on my arm. When we break apart, I can see the fear in his eyes as he watches me step back, and I swallow the lump in my throat as I grip Idris's hand tightly.

Roma reaches over to grasp ahold of Idris as I will Feyre's powers to build enough to winnow to the island. Idris's hand tightens around mine as the world fades into whisps of fading color.

My stomach twists from the long travel—and I stumble when my feet finally hit solid ground again. I hear the sound of surprised gasps as soon as we appear, but I ignore them all, attempting to keep the contents of my stomach from covering the marbled floor in front of me.

"I-Dahlia? Iris? What's happened? Is everything all right?" I look up upon hearing my father's voice, and I wince, straightening as I see him rush over to us. Idris releases her hold on my hand, her back going rim-rod straight.

My father hadn't changed at all since the last time I saw him, and I look carefully around the room, my lips pursing into a thin line when I see Titus standing off to the side. "Hybern has taken down the wall. We need to move now." Idris informs my father, and he tenses at the words, his concerned eyes pausing on me for a moment before flicking towards Idris.

"I-of course. Go, do what you need to do." His words come out rushed and flustered, but Idris doesn't waste a moment before running off, Roma right on her heels. I stay behind, unease only building as I look at my father, who was looking at me with concerned eyes. "Are you alright? You look ill." He worries, reaching forward to place a warm hand on my arm.

I sigh, rubbing my face with a hand. "It happened so quickly... I thought we had more time. I thought I had more time." I confess quietly, and almost instantly, his eyes soften, and he gives me a sympathetic smile.

"We are as ready as we can be. No one is ever prepared for war." He answers softly, and I swallow the lump in my throat, looking over to where Titus was standing a few feet away.