The Cracks in the Universe (ACOTAR/TOG Crossover)

Chapter 7 - Rhys

Rhysand didn't know what to make of the group he and Azriel had ambushed in one of the remote regions of the Illyrian territory. A shapeshifter, witch, High Fae, three Demi-Fae and two humans. Some magic wielders, some not... It certainly was an unorthodox bunch.

Their minds were unshielded, as vulnerable as newborns, but he only delved far enough to get the essential information. Everything they had told him was true. They were all terrified, even the brute of a man who looked like he could give Cassian a run for his money in the sparring ring. Lorcan, that was his name. Actually, most of the group seemed to have a lethal set of skills, although they'd wisely decided to not use them against him. 

He and the rest of the Inner Circle left the newcomers in the building, watched by fifty of his best Illyrian warriors, while they retired to his tent to discuss their plan. 

"We need to retrieve the shifter. That is the priority." Cassian was already thinking of strategies and outcomes, weighing up the options.

"Yes, we know, but what happens after that? They're telling us this ghost from another dimension sent them to find who we think is Amren, all so that they can get back to their own realm. It's crazy! If Amren couldn't find her way home, how is she going to be able to do it for them?" Mor let out an exasperated sigh. 

"What else are we supposed to do?" Rhys rubbed his face and slumped into a pile of furs. "These people are as far from home as they can possibly get, and if we have the key to send them back then why not help? They were found in Night Court territory, so they're our responsibility."

"So what, we just take them to Velaris? First, you let in my father and the Court of Nightmares, now you're letting in any old stragglers who wander into our lands?"

"Mor, calm down," Feyre said soothingly, rubbing her friend's shoulder. "How about we leave them here? Get Amren to travel to the camp instead. That way we can get them out of our hair, they get home, and we don't compromise the city."

"Are you three done already?" Rhys looked to see Cassian and Azriel standing by the tent flap, the commander tapping his foot impatiently. "Look, we can't get anything done until we find that shapeshifter, so if you've finished sitting on your asses and discussing how to get rid of those people, can we please go and capture ourselves a ghost leopard?"

"Ghost leopard? Honey, I am so much more than that," A husky, female voice cooed from outside. Rhys instantly snapped up his shields and cursed himself for not sensing the shifter's presence. Aelin had told them that she would likely be roaming the camp, but he didn't anticipate that she would target the Inner Circle as opposed to freeing her friends.

Mor's and Feyre's gowns changed instantly to leathers as Cassian and Azriel escorted Lysandra inside.

"As dangerous as I am, I'm no match for fifty warriors. So I've decided to plead our case." The woman was beautiful, with full lips and glossy dark hair. Her ivory skin and green eyes reminded Rhys of snowy pine forests during a bright winter morning.

"What do you have to bargain with? There is nothing you can offer us." Mor crossed her arms, eyes narrowing.

"Perhaps..." She ran a finger down Cassian's arm, and Feyre growled. Rhys smiled to himself as he thought of how Nesta would probably have throttled the shifter for that gesture.

"Sorry Lady, I'm taken." Cassian grinned, and Azriel shook his head as the general puffed out his chest, his ego clearly boosted by the attention.

"You can call me Lysandra." The sultry exterior was now giving way to something more venomous and deadly. "I want to know what you plan to do with my people."

Rhys explained what had happened inside the cabin, and he could see the cogs turning inside her head as he did so. The stunning exterior was simply a vessel for a much more magnificent brain. She cocked her head, the movement so much like the animals she frequently inhabited. 

"You say I have nothing to offer you, yet we still haven't met your friend Amren. How can you speak for her?"

Rhys was taken slightly aback at the bluntness of her words, and so were the rest of his company by the looks of it. "We cannot." He said finally.

"Well, that solves that problem. Take us to her, and she can decide whether we are of any use." The shifter's skills at reading the situation were excellent, and Rhys wondered where she had learned the art. Then she shifted tactic. "Listen, we simply want to get home. You are our only hope, it seems, so I speak for us all when I tell you that we will do anything to get back to Erilea. I'm sure you want us gone as much as we do."

Rhys checked the time and sighed. "I'll contact Amren in the morning. If I wake her now she'll be grouchy and less likely to want to help. For now, we'll take you back to your friends and set up some bunks."

Cassian took the arm of the shifter and walked her out, Azriel choosing to stay behind and drifting to Mor's side instead.

"I've changed my mind," She announced sheepishly, "I- I think we should take them to Velaris. They can stay in the House of Wind; Amren would prefer it that way." She stepped towards Rhys and looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier... About my father. You were right." Rhys took her hand and squeezed once. She smiled and walked out of the tent to her own.

---

The next morning, Rhys and the others were standing in the main yard of the camp, Feyre explaining to Aelin and her group how they would travel to Velaris.

"It's like stepping through the folds in the world. You leave one place and appear in another, although only very powerful Fae can travel long distances." She looked to Rhys and they winked at each other. "Here, let me show you." She demonstrated, and muffled gasps escaped the mouths of the Erileans.

"It's like Fenrys!" Rhys heard Aedion whisper to Rowan, and the tattooed Fae nodded in response.

"Okay, Rhys will take two of you plus Cassian, and the rest of us will take another two. So, pair up!" Feyre was chirpy this morning, no doubt due to the fun he and his mate had had last night once Azriel and Mor had left the tent.

Aelin made a beeline for Rhys, Rowan following with a pained expression on his face. Rhys wondered why until Aelin spoke. "You're the prettiest, so I called dibs." She chuckled and traced a finger along the stark yet mesmerising markings down her husband's face. "It seems I have a thing for tattooed Fae." Rhys glanced down and saw the edges of his inked chest peeking out from the neckline of his tunic; black, as usual, with purple embroidery. 

Rhys looked over the rest of the group to see Feyre take the hands of Lysandra and Aedion, while Azriel took Dorian and the witch, and Mor was left with Lorcan and Elide. Cassian strode over towards Rhys, and Aelin grinned again.

"Ooh, aren't we lucky, Rowan?" She said as she jabbed him in the ribs. He simply bared his teeth in response; perhaps an attempt at a smile, or a warning to back off.

Rhys took the arms of Cassian and Aelin, and he muttered a small warning before winnowing. "Just to let you know, this might feel a little uncomfortable." 

And then they disappeared into mist and night and stars.

---

They winnowed into one of the bustling squares in the city: The Palace of Thread and Jewels. It was now mid-morning, so business was at its peak. The array of gems and fabrics glittered in the dazzling sun, and faeries of every species wandered through the stalls, bartering and squabbling and admiring the goods. Rhys glanced over his shoulder to see wonder and amazement creep into the nauseated faces of the visitors, just as joy filled the eyes of his friends. Around them, gleaming spires and domes and towers stretched towards the clouds, and buildings of every conceivable colour stood jumbled together like the most incredible patchwork.

Feyre's face broke into a beautiful, unabashed smile, and she took Rhys' hand before turning to the Queen of Terrasen. 

"Welcome to Velaris: The Court of Dreams, the City of Starlight."

***

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