Chapter 8

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Lorcan's body was a blur as he ran to the edge of the boat and dove into the calm waters awaiting below. Rowan and Gavriel made no move to join him as Lorcan sped towards where they had last seen Elide fall into the waters. There was no sign of the Basti anywhere. 

Rowan growled and knelt to Gavriel who was kneeling on the ground, panting. "Elide." He whispered. The two had bonded in their days of travel, both peacekeepers who were missing something-- or someone. Gavriel winced, but flung a hand towards Lorcan, sending out his power to assist his fellow cadre member. 

A soft, gold glow started to shine deep underneath the waves. Slowly, the light grew and rose, a dark shape now blocking the light from fully reaching Rowan's gaze. Rowan stood, but Gavriel remained crouched, breaths growing steadier, eyes fully focused on his target in the ocean. The power broke the surface, a gleaming platform of gold power supporting a small, limp body.

Lorcan remained swimming towards his target, and reached Elide's lifeless form as the golden shield began to flicker. Rowan's eyes flicked back to Gavriel. Gavriel's outstretched hand was shaking, too much of his energy and power used, but his eyes remained focused on Elide as Lorcan reached her and pulled himself onto the glowing surface. 

Rowan watched as Lorcan lowered his fingers to Elide's wrist, then neck. And let out an ear-splitting cry of pain and sorrow. Lorcan lowered his mouth to Elide's, and Rowan left Gavriel to run to the oars of the boat. 

As Rowan began to row, using his mighty fae strength to steer the boat to Lorcan and Elide, Lorcan dropped his face to Elide's again, this time also pounding on her chest. 

As the ship approached the duo, Gavriel's panting grew louder, his power starting to crumble under the weight of Lorcan and Elide. "Hurry. I--can't--hold--" Gavriel panted in between breaths. 

Rowan dropped the oars as the ship approached Lorcan, and ran to the side of the boat, grabbing a rope as he ran across the deck. Rowan tossed the rope overboard to Lorcan, who wrapped it around his waist without even a glance at Rowan or Gavriel. Lorcan grabbed Elide's body as Rowan strained to pull his friends aboard. 

Lorcan and Elide collapsed on the deck, and Rowan rushed over. "Elide. Is she--" His words were cut off by Gavriel, who had managed to crawl over to the group. 

"Turn her over." Gavriel's voice shattered the silence that had fallen over the ship. 

"Gavriel, you are too--" 

"Turn her over." Gavriel's tone made it clear that it was not question. Lorcan finally tore his gaze from Elide, gripping her hand. 

Gavriel shifted into a sitting position as Elide's limp form was shifted from her front to her back. Elide's chest was not moving, but a purple bruise had already started to form on her skull from the Basti knocking its head against hers. 

Gavriel reached out a hand and placed his palm on Elide's motionless chest. A small spark passed from Gavriel's fingertips to Elide's breast. 

Elide's body jerked forward and Lorcan shifted her onto her side as she vomited onto the wooden planks. Gavriel slumped backwards, magic and energy spent from the events of the past hour. 

Elide looked around, first to Rowan, who was smiling grimly down at her, then to Gavriel, hand still stretched towards Elide. As Elide laid onto her back she stared at Lorcan, who was still gripping her hand, which was turning white. 

"I--I'm--I'm--" Elide's waterlogged throat constricted as she tried to speak to Lorcan for the first time in days. 

"Stupid?" Lorcan said with a smirk. "You should've stayed in the cabin, like I told you to." Lorcan's smirk was betrayed by the worry Rowan saw in his eyes. 

Elide closed her eyes, breathing heavily. "N--No. I'm still--still m--mad at you." And with that Elide's eyes closed and she slumped against Gavriel's prone form. 

* * * * *

The uneventful days passed quickly, the fae taking turns resting and steering the boat. Elide had regained consciousness on the second day, jerking awake as Rowan had entered the cabin to check on her. Her eyes had focused and unfocused as the events of the past week had hit her. 

Elide closed her eyes as a tear slipped down her face. "Will you--" Elide cleared her throat and started again. "Will you grab me something to eat, please?" She whispered, throat still sore from almost drowning. Rowan nodded and left the cabin, squinting into the mid-day sun. 

Lorcan and Gavriel were standing at the prow of the ship. The three fae's powers had slowly regenerated over the past days, and they had yet to run into any issues that required the use of their powers. 

Rowan had suggested he harness the wind to assist the journey, but Gavriel had insisted that Rowan and Lorcan rest until they were full strength. Since that morning, a strong breeze had filled the sails of the ship, accelerating the journey to Doranelle. 

Rowan nodded to Lorcan as he approached. "She's awake." Lorcan started and took a step towards the cabin. 

Rowan held out a hand as Lorcan tried to step by. "Don't. She needs time to recover." Lorcan snarled at Rowan's touch and shook away his arm, turning away and walking across the deck, but not making a move to approach the cabin. 

Rowan glared at Lorcan before turning back to Gavriel. "Watch him." And with that, Rowan walked away to grab Elide's food. 

Rowan strode across the deck, mind racing with thoughts of Aelin. His Carranam. His mate. His wife. Freeing her from Maeve's clutches would be near-impossible. If Maeve had sought Aelin for so long, she would not give her up easily. 

Grabbing a slice of stale bread, Rowan began to work his way back to Elide. Lorcan and Gavriel had not moved, both staring into the distance sullenly. Rowan smirked. Territorial fae bastards, is what Aelin would've said. 

As if the thought of her conjured it, a weak pulse of power hit Rowan like a blow. A purely Aelin feel. A summoning. Rowan stumbled and fell to the deck, forgotten bread tumbling from his hand. Lorcan and Gavriel rushed over, eyes betraying that they had felt the pulse of power, too. 

"Doranelle." Gavriel breathed. "You were right." 

It was a weak pulse, and Rowan didn't want to know what Maeve might do to his mate for conjuring it, but Rowan sent a pulse of light down the bond. I am coming, Fireheart. 

I am coming. 

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading my interpretation of the next Throne of Glass book! 

Please let me know in the comments who's perspective you want the next chapter to be from! Even if you usually don't comment on stories, your feedback would be greatly appreciated. 

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