A Court of Graves and Flowers

CHAPTER TWO

It was decided that Rhysand would go to the Spring Court with Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren.

Feyre stayed behind to watch over Nyx and to protect Velaris. Mor and Elain kept her company.

Rhysand winnowed in with Amren, while Azriel was left responsible for Cassian and Nesta. They all paused at the sight that greeted them. Although Cassian and Nesta had been there with Eris a year ago, the place seemed drastically different. They had arrived close to Tamlin's Manor, and the structure was falling to ruin.

Death and decay. Those were the words Elain had spoken, and they rang true. The walls were crumbling, overrun with vines and thorns that seemed to be surrounding the estate. Flowers that were supposed to be in full bloom hung limp and lifeless, as if they'd been drained of color. Even the earth beneath their feet seemed cursed, the cracked soil visible through the brown patches of grass.

"What happened to this place?" Cassian murmured in shock.

"This is what happens when a High Lord stops caring about his court," Rhys replied, and although he hated Tamlin, he felt pity swell up inside him.

"We're not here for him," Amren reminded them. Her eyes then slid to Nesta. "Can you find the Cauldron?"

Nesta closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus. When she shut everything out, she felt that cold fire inside of her. She grasped onto the feeling, tugging at the magic that had called her here. And she felt something tugging back.

Her eyes flew open, shining silver in the moonlight. "Follow me."

They didn't need to be told twice. Nesta's long legs carried her past the manor towards two hills in the distance. As they climbed over the crest, they spotted it.

The Cauldron sat at the other side of the hill as a hooded figure read from a book in its hands.

The three Illyrian warriors immediately sprang into action, moving on the silent command of Rhys.

"Wait!" Nesta cried while Amren rolled her eyes at their foolishness.

But it was too late. Azriel and Cassian shot into the sky, barreling towards the figure. Nesta's cry had alerted it to their presence. The stranger vanished before they could get to it, winnowing away with the book but leaving the Cauldron behind.

Azriel and Cassian landed next to the Cauldron, their eyes alert and scanning the surrounding area. They weren't quite sure if the figure would get very far, but so far, they saw no other movement. Meanwhile, Nesta and Amren ran down the hill, trying to catch up with them. Rhysand had also flown down to the Cauldron. He could see dark liquid swirling inside, and a faint glow seemed to surround the object.

It was clear that the figure they spotted was working some sort of spell. So many questions ran through his mind, but first, they needed to determine what exactly it was that they tried to do with the Cauldron.

"Rhysand, don't—" Amren tried to warn as the High Lord reached out a hand, intent on determining what spell had been performed and if it had been completed.

His power flowed from his hands like black ink spilling across the wind. However, as soon as it touched the Cauldron, a blast sent the High Lord flying back. Everyone gathered around him, momentarily forgetting the Cauldron and the stranger.

"Are you alright?" Cassian asked, peering down at Rhys.

"Fools, all of you," Amren seethed, her eyes jumping from Rhys to Azriel to Cassian before going back to Rhys. "You never think before you act."

Rhys took a moment to catch his breath, feeling slightly winded as though he'd been punched in the chest. "I'll live. Thank you for the concern, Amren."

"Serves you right for not knowing how to listen," came the short reply. "Now, we don't know who brought the Cauldron here and why."

Rhys finally managed to sit up, and their eyes landed on the magical object once more. "Whatever they did, it woke the Cauldron up. I'm not sure its safe to move it, even if we somehow find a way to get close to it."

"Maybe I can try," Nesta volunteered, taking a step towards it.

Then, the Cauldron tipped over, spilling its dark contents.

They could only stare at the sight that lay before them.

As the dark liquid dripped away, giant, black wings slowly stretched and unfurled. The bones snapped and cracked with each movement as though they'd not been used for centuries. When they were fully outstretched, they were so vast that they completely blocked the view of the hills beyond. A figure lay in the pool of liquid, its thin frame and pale skin stark against the blackness of the wings.

Dripping black hair covered the creature's face as it slowly pushed itself up on shaky hands.

For the second time that evening, Rhysand felt like he'd been struck with a blow to the chest. However, this one was much worse. In fact, he wondered faintly if this was what it felt like to be shot with an ash arrow through the heart.

Because as the creature finally managed to get into a sitting position, it looked up through the curtain of wet hair, and he met startling purple eyes that were swirling with stars.

His eyes.