Battle Scars

Using us

"No," Azriel and Nesta breathed together in the dead silent room. "Absolutely not," Az ground out again, his shadows coiling against him. "You do not tell us what we can or cannot do," Elain said, her voice firm while Eve looked at everyone but him.

"The last time we involved ourselves with the Cauldron, it abducted you," Nesta countered, looking at Eve. And then turning toward Elain, "and I thought you didn't have powers anymore."

Elain pursed her lips. "I thought you didn't, either."

Azriel was near shaking. "You nearly died the last time," he looked at no one but Eve. She walked to where he stood, in the radius of his shadows, still not looking him in the eye. "So we learn from our mistakes."

"You will not go looking for it." Nesta ground out.

Amren said coolly, "So you look for it, girl."

"I do not know how," the answer came, strained.

"Like calls to like," Eve explained. "We were Made by the Cauldron so we may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because we are Made by it, we are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. We might also use them, yes, but they cannot be used on us."

Nesta swallowed. "I can't."

Amren countered, "You tracked the Cauldron—"

"It nearly killed me. It trapped Eve like a bird in a cage."

Elain said, "Then I will find it. I might require some time to ... reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today."

"Absolutely not," Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. "Absolutely not."

"Why?" Elain demanded. "Shall I tend to my little garden forever?" When Nesta flinched, Elain said, "You can't have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater."

"Then go off on adventures," Nesta said. "Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron."

Feyre said, "It is Elain's choice, Nesta."

Nesta whirled on her, ignoring the warning flicker of primal wrath in Rhys's stare. "Keep out of this," she hissed at her youngest sister. "I have no doubt you put these thoughts in her head, probably encouraging her to throw herself into harm's way—"

Elain cut in sharply, "I am not a child to be fought over."

Nesta's pulse pounded throughout her body. "Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping Eve?" Az shadows darkened more.

"Enough," Eve' steady voice came.

"I do," but Elain said coldly. "And I remember Azriel rescuing her. And I remember time and time again how it was Eve and Feyre who helped during the war while I recovered and then helped me later while you sat in a corner, hissing."

Roaring erupted in Nesta's head. For a heartbeat, it appeared that Elain might say something to soften the words.

"Look who decided to grow claws after all," she crooned. "Maybe you'll become interesting at last, Elain."

No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

Elain's eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta's chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, "I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you." Nesta blinked, everything inside her hollowing out. But Elain turned on her heel. "Find me when you wish to begin." The doors shut behind her.