A Court of Innocents

30: Everyone's Enemy

Eris did not bring us straight to Autumn. No, he wasn't that merciful. As the world solidified around us, as I took one look around and discovered where we were, I remembered that mercy was a term my cousin had never learned.

The dry earth Eris flung me onto was at the edge of a very steep, very lethal drop off. Thousands of feet below, waves crashed harshly against the rocks, loud enough for the sound to carry for miles. The ocean stretched out in each direction. It was a dazzling shade of the deepest blue, and that seafoam scent was pleasant enough to nearly make me smile. This court's oceans were beautiful, something I'd gathered in the few times my occupation had deemed it necessary for me to venture here.

But the palace that we stood before—that was the true beauty of the Day Court. Pale marble gazed out at the ocean below and beyond. It was all gold rooftops and dazzling waterfalls, open terraces and plush gardens. Warm. Quiet. Peaceful.

Eris had been on his way out of Rhysand's townhouse. Hopefully, he'd been on his way out of the Night Court. My perfect timing had resulted in me crashing right into him. His placement had resulted in the opportunity to winnow me away from the only safe place I'd ever known. I had no doubts that he had been deliberate about where he stood, always just out of arm's reach of Rhysand or anyone else who could protect me. It had been nothing short of a grand exit.

But I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the fact that this was the place he brought me to. Even Lucien—Eris's younger, less powerful brother—had been able to winnow us to the southern end of the Dawn Court in one attempt. It didn't make sense that Eris would take us only half that length. I knew he hadn't exerted all his strength when he arrived in the Night Court. Eris was too calculated for that. He never got himself into a situation he couldn't get out of.

No, the explanation for this was simple and obvious: he was dragging it out.

"You are boringly predictable," I growled as I rose to my feet.

He didn't bother to acknowledge me, didn't bother to do anything but gaze up at the towering palace before us. It was almost offensive, how easily he discarded me, how quickly he deemed me not a threat. Even before the century of Illyrian training—even when I had been a small girl trapped within a court that threatened to swallow me whole—I had fended for myself. Was he so quick to forget that?

Yara. Rhysand's voice, as solid as if he were standing right beside me.

My heart dared to skip.

Tell us where you are. His voice was little more than a growl, even in my mind. Angry and venomous already. We'll get you out. Just show me where you are. Plant the image in your mind and I'll see it. Azriel will find you in a matter of minutes. Eris will pay, even if I have to do it myself.

If he, the controlled and calculated High Lord of the Night Court, was already planning his revenge on the Promised Son of Autumn, I could only imagine what was going through Azriel's mind.

Is he with you? I didn't have to specify for Rhysand to know who I referred to.

Gathering his Siphons as we speak.

Under normal circumstances, Azriel would be the best member of the Inner Circle to send. He was stronger than Mor, stealthier than Cass, quicker than Amren. Feyre was a liability with the child inside of her, as epic as she might be as a rescuer. And Rhysand's presence would start a war faster than he could winnow me back to the Night Court.

But after what had happened in the cabin, I wasn't so sure Azriel was the best option. Not when it came to me. As much as I admired him as a soldier, I knew he wouldn't be able to leave his emotions out of it.