𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Thirty-Five

Jurian—a human warrior during the war who made the ever so stupid choice to date Amaranthas sister and then kill her. In turn, being tortured by the wicked queen himself where his essence was forced into a ring.

    "Bullshit," Cassian spat, "There's no way to do that."

    I muttered a few curses as I shook my head. Indeed there was a way to resurrect Jurian so long as they had something or someone powerful enough to do so and something of his essence—his eye.

    Mor groaned, "Why would the King want to resurrect Jurian? He was so odious. All he liked to do was talk about himself."

    "That's what I want to find out," Rhys replied, rubbing the lines of his jaw. "And how the King plans to do it."

    "Word would have at least reached him about Feyre and Danika's making. He knows its possible for the dead to be remade."

"All seven High Lords would have to agree to that," Mor countered.

"No, they wouldn't," I said, "So long as they have something strong enough. Powerful enough, they can remake whomever they like." my words were frantic as my mind raced a mile a minute trying to figure out what it could be. Who it could be.

Mor faced Rhys as she connected my words, "All the slaughtering—the massacres at temples. You think it's tied to this?"

"I know it's tied to this. I didn't want to tell you until I knew for certain. But Azriel confirmed that they'd raided the memorial in Sangravah three days ago. They're looking for something—" His eyes found mine, "or found it." Azriel nodded in confirmation and Mor looked at him with surprise. Azriel gave her an apologetic shrug in return.

    "That's why the ring and bone finger vanished after Amarantha's death. For this." my mouth went dry. "The Attor. They never caught it."

Rhys said too quietly, "No. No, they didn't." He looked to Amren, "How does one take an eye and fingerbone and make it into a man again? And how do we stop it?"

    "You already know how to find the answer. Go to the prison. Talk to the Bone Carver."

    "Shit," Mor and Cassian said in unison.

    "Perhaps you would be more effective, Amren." Rhys suggested calmly.

    Amren hissed, "I will not set foot in the Prison, Rhysand, and you know it. So go yourself, or send one of these dogs to do it for you."

    Cassian grinned so widely, showing off his teeth—Amren snapped hers in return.

    Azriel shook his head, "I'll go. The Prison sentries know me—what I am."

    "If anyone's going to the Prison," Rhys said just as Mor opened her mouth, "it's me. ANd Danika."

    "What?" Mor demanded, her palms flat on the table.

    "He won't talk to Rhys," Amren said to the others, "or to Azriel. Or to any of us. We've got nothing to offer him. Except two immortals with mortal souls. Out of the two of them who is he more likely to talk to; an immortal born from the seven High Lords of Prythian?" her smokey eyes found mine then, "Or someone who fell into the clutches of death and came back by her own way." curiosity lit Amren's eyes, "Danika is a phenomenon. The Bone Carver might be willing indeed to talk to her."

    They stared at me as if waiting for me to beg not to go.

    "Your choice, Danika," Rhys said.

    I shrugged, "I'll go."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: AHHH GUYS I JUST GOT CHASE ATLANTIC TICKETS IM SOOO EXCITED.

also, do you guys like shorter or long chapters better?