A Court of Graves and Flowers

CHAPTER THIRTY

The heavy oak doors of the library swung open, revealing Cassian framed by the golden afternoon light. A young servant bowed and scurried away, leaving Callisto alone with the Illyrian General. His broad frame seemed to fill the vast library, making the high shelves and sprawling tapestries shrink.

He strode towards her, his smile as bright as the sun filtering through the stained-glass windows. Before she could speak, he pulled her into a warm embrace, the scent of pine washing over her.

"Callisto!" he boomed, his voice echoing in the hushed room. "I thought I would never get some alone time with you. Az seems to have you all to himself these days."

Callisto chuckled, always happy to see him despite their squabbling and their antics. "I'm glad Rhys has let you out of your cage," she teased. "I love Azriel, but he isn't as fun to be around with as you."

"Stroking my ego? My, my, do you want something from me?"

"Only to know more about the Horn," Callisto retorted.

The easy smile on Cassian's face vanished. Suddenly, her friend transformed into the leader of the Night Court armies. She gestured for Cassian to sit in the empty chair across from her, and she settled in for their meeting.

"What has Rhys told you?" he asked.

She launched into a detailed account of the events that had transpired since their last meeting – the attack, her powers, Rhys's revelations, the horn, and even Amren's suspicions.

"Witch?" Cassian burst into laughter. "Amren thinks you're a witch? That's rich, considering I thought the same about her when we first met. But seriously, Callisto, I don't get the sense that you'll be weaving some dark spells soon."

Her heart thudded in her chest. He didn't suspect, not even a hint. The subtle spell masking Tamlin's scent on her seemed to be holding. With a deep breath, she forced a smile.

"Thank you, Cassian. And what have you learned about the Horn?"

Cassian's next words sent a jolt through her. "The rest of the Dread Trove," he began, his voice low, "is in our possession. The crown, the mask, the harp – all tucked away, hidden by Helion's magic. Nesta found them, but for some reason, she can't locate the fourth item."

Callisto's breath hitched. The Dread Trove, the source of power and chaos, was in her brother's court. "Nesta. Why was she involved?"

"Nesta is Cauldron-made, and so are the objects," Cassian explained with a shrug. "And you know what Amren says—"

"Like calls to like," Callisto provided for him, the words echoing in her mind.

"Anyway, Rhys also sent Mor to the Court of Nightmares to see what she could glean. Apparently, they're the only ones with any real expertise on ancient artifacts."

Callisto shuddered at the name. The Court of Nightmares, also known as the Hewn City, was carved beneath a mountain of stone and ruled by fear. It held secrets within its walls, older than Rhys and Callisto themselves. But it was known for its darkness, violence, and cruelty. It was the antithesis to Velaris, to the place she once called home.

"What can Tamlin and I do to help?" she asked, her gaze unwavering.

Cassian scratched the back of his neck, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his demeanor. "Well, Amren thinks you should focus on honing your abilities."

Callisto's brow shot up. "Abilities?" she echoed, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. "Amren believes I can magically conjure the missing item?"

Cassian chuckled sheepishly. "Something like that. Apparently, with your... witchy talents..."

Callisto's amusement blossomed into a full-blown laugh. "Witchy talents?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't you just tell me you don't believe I'm a witch?"