A Court of Night and Shadows

Chapter 23

Azriel

"Amren's right," Rhys drawled, leaning against the threshold of the town house sitting room. "You are like dogs, waiting for me to come home. Maybe I should buy you treats."

I repressed my eye roll while Cassian gave him a vulgar gesture from where he lounged on the couch before the hearth, an arm slung over the back behind Mor. I could see his unease clearly from where I stood near the window. Despite his general appearance of calm, I could see the tightness in his jaw, a coiled up energy he often felt anytime he had to wait on the sidelines.

The High Lord of the Night Court and his mate were both wet, the latter shivering a bit as she strode across the room to plop into an armchair across from the couch, which had been shaped, like so much of the furniture here, to fit our Illyrian wings. She stretched, leaning toward the fire and I ignored the near silent groan of pleasure she felt from the warmth.

"How'd it go?" Mor said, straightening beside Cassian. No gown today - just practical black pants and her favorite thick, blue sweater. A sweater I'd once given her many, many years ago.

"The Bone Carver is a busy-body gossip who likes to pry into other people's business far too much."

"But?" Cassian demanded, bracing his arms on his knees, wings tucked in tight.

"But," Rhys said, "he can also be helpful, when he chooses. And it seems we need to start doing what we do best."

I watched as Feyre tuned out Rhys's explanation to us, sliding deep into an inner world, escaping whatever must have happened to them while visiting the Bone Carver. He'd never liked me much, but I wasn't much of a talker.

Rhys went on about the Cauldron and The Book of Breathings, some of which I'd already determined and knew that Rhys had known as well, however the confirmation of the Bone Carver was an important one, as the extremity of our next steps would be dangerous and potentially seen as hostile. And try as I might, my attention was continuously drawn back to my High Lord's mate, to the point that Rhys began to notice. Sometimes I considered retracting our deal that he would never use his power to communicate with me mentally, especially lately.

Cassian asked most of the questions, Mor pitching in her two cents every now and then and I could admit I had a few questions of my own.

"Did he say anything about the stone?" Cassian finally asked, taking the thought right out of my head, though I hadn't had the gall to ask, especially in front of his mate.

Rhysand didn't reply, looking to where Feyre sat staring at the fire her hair already starting to dry in weak waves down her shoulders.

So I stepped away from the window. "I'll contact my sources in the Summer Court about where the half of the Book of Breathings is hidden," I offered. "I can fly into the human world myself to figure out where they're keeping their part of the Book before we ask them for it."

"No need," Rhys said, his attention brought back to me. "And I don't trust this information, even with your sources, with anyone outside of this room. Save for Amren."

"They can be trusted," I insisted, my hands clenched at my sides. I knew we would be able to take care of this for him. It was the least we could do with all that was on his plate right now.

"We're not taking risks where this is concerned," Rhys merely said. He held my eyes and I felt his unspoken thoughts as if he almost was using his powers to communicate them to me. It is no judgment or reflection on you, Az. Not at all.

I met his eye contact before giving a swift nod, breaking away to see Cassian watching me as well.

I silently thanked the Cauldron for my true brothers.