A Court of Wind and Song

36: No Harm

Nesta

My arm hurt.

Cassian had come home last night, drunk off his ass, half in tears and half pissed off beyond belief. He stumbled into my room, rambling about Feyre, his mother, and the baby. It had taken me over an hour to get the information out of him.

And when I finally had, I had no clue how to process any of it.

Cassian's heritage was one thing, certainly something that we needed to figure out, if only for his peace of mind.

But Feyre? The baby?

It sent some kind of panic through me, as if I hadn't done enough, an opportunity to fix what was long broken about to be closed. A door slammed. A new life that would be lost before it had begun. And everyone else, they wouldn't just lose Feyre or the baby. Rhys would die too, leaving the entire Court in shambles and another thing thrown onto Leur's back to uphold.

And Cassian had fallen asleep, half on my arm and half on my chest. I hadn't had the heart to move him, and so I laid awake all night.

Staring at the ceiling.

Wondering if I couldn't breathe from the behemoth of a male laying on top of me or the fact that my youngest sister might die.

She might die, and there was nothing I could do to help her. I didn't know spells or potions. I didn't know medicine. I was as useless when it came to this as I had been the day Tamlin burst into our cottage two years ago.

I couldn't help Feyre with anything.

Well, nothing except for being able to find the Mask.

Cassian had been far too hungover to question my change of heart about scrying, even if I had all but refused to try again after my failure. It seemed the others weren't going to say anything either, all of us gathered in Rhys and Feyre's River House. A bowl of small bones and stones next to me, a map laid out before me, and I could have sworn in the distance- there was the soft melody playing.

The Harp.

It called to me, recognized me as kin, wanted me to find where Rhys had hidden it in this house.

I just ignored it.

I ignored the stab of pain in my side as Feyre's eyes lit up when I greeted her, as if me simply acknowledging her mere existence was something to celebrate. I ignored Rhys's questioning stares, his hand knocking at the gates of my mind, wondering how much Cassian had told me. I ignored the glares from Amren across the room, on the far side of the table, her silver eyes watching me like a hawk.

Instead, I focused on Cassian's comforting hand on my back, on Leur's encouraging smile from where she sat half-perched on Azriel's lap. I focused on Azriel's calm and steady presence, unafraid, unflinching.

"Let's get this over with." Amren huffed.

"When you attempted it before," Rhys looked over at me, "You felt nothing."

"I felt it watching me." I admitted.

"The Trove? Or the Cauldron?" The High Lord furrowed his brows.

A chill went up my spine at the memory of that day, the memory of that eye racing towards me, how the world itself had shuddered as it started to open.

"Elain is in Adhira with Lucien." Leur offered some comfort, catching my eye, "We have wards on her and an entire legion of soldiers watching her."

I met Azriel's eyes, silver swirling with hazel, like a pristine sword in the middle of a forest, and I believed every word as he said, "We won't make the same mistake twice."