Chapter Forty-Eight

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Azriel


Azriel winnowed back into their camp after taking a very, very long run to clear his head when his shadows sensed another person winnowing in at the same time, to near the same spot.

He tensed as Helion appeared, face bright with an emotion Azriel couldn't quite place.

Helion turned, eyes brightening at the sight of the shadowsinger. "Azriel. You are just the fae I was looking for."

"May I ask why?" Azriel asked dryly, folding his arms over his chest. "Did I do something wrong?"

Helion shook his head frantically. "I have an idea, one that just might save us."

Azriel's jaw twitched. "What happened to you moping around and claiming that we didn't have hope?" he asked.

"Fuck that. I was wrong," Helion snapped. "You're going to want to hear this, I swear it."

Azriel lifted an eyebrow. "I'll have Emerie make us some tea."

✿ ↬ - - - ↫ ✿

He found himself sitting across the table in Helion's tent from Helion himself, a steaming cup of Emerie's chamomile tea (chatting tea, as she called it) in his hands, around twenty minutes later.

"Does Emerie have a whole collection of teas for different occasions?" Helion asked, stirring some honey into his tea. He inspected the cup, almost as if he was trying to find some sort of dark magic woven into it.

Azriel chuckled dryly. "She does, but I believe she could only believe this one," he said. "It's her favorite."

Helion nodded a couple of times before setting the tea cup down and exhaling. "On a more serious note...let me tell you what I just did."

Azriel checked the bond one more time before he responded. Every time he checked he expected Velaria to magically be on the other end, not the wall blocking them from communicating. The wall itself wasn't Velaria's shields, nor was it like anything he'd ever seen before. It must have been whatever damper Tamlin was putting on Velaria's power.

"I snuck into the Spring Court."

Azriel spit out the sip of tea he had just taken. "You what?"

"I snuck into the Spring Court," Helion repeated. "I was trying to–"

Azriel stood up, slamming his palms on the table. The teacups rattled in their dishes, and Helion hissed as the teapot let out a couple drops of scalding hot tea, the tea making their way to his lap.

"Do you know how reckless that was?" Azriel snapped, his wings flaring out. To his credit, Helion didn't flinch. "After what happened to Velaria, you decided it was perfectly fine for you, our main healer, to waltz right into our enemy's territory?"

Helion opened his mouth to speak but Azriel let out a laugh in disbelief.

"You went in, and you somehow got out," Azriel said, clutching a hand to his forehead. "You went in, and you got out safely. You decided...it was okay...for you...to go...into the Spring Court. What the actual fuck, Helion? How could you have possibly thought that was okay?" Azriel yelled, his temper flaring. "You could have been captured, or tortured, or worse. You could have fucking died."

Helion was stoic, his face expressionless as the shadowsinger went on his tirade.

"Not to mention if Tamlin saw you," Azriel said angrily. "What were you even trying to do there? Free Velaria? Check in on Marigold? Talk to Lucien? What idiotic thing were you trying to do that could have gotten our entire plan exposed." Azriel leaned across the table, eye to eye with the High Lord of Day. "Have you ever been tortured, High Lord of Day?" he snarled. "Have you ever been tortured so badly you couldn't walk, the only sensation your own blood dripping down your skin? Have you ever been tortured so terribly you didn't recognize yourself when they were done with you?

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