Song of Shadows

Chapter Two

Elain

The moment my bedroom door closes behind Azriel, the moment the house falls silent, all of the heaviness and grief those shadows seemed to hide me from comes rushing back.

My energy fades, leaving me exhausted and weak. I pull on a nightgown of soft silk before I crawl into the large, soft bed. I can sense him... the son of the High Lord that is my... mate. I can feel him still in the house. A part of my soul urges me to go to him, wrap my arms around him, allow him to kiss away the hot tears pouring down my cheeks.

Images of a brown hair, blue eyes, and rounded human ears drive away the images of a golden eye and flaming red hair and... pointed ears. I run my fingers over my own ears, the sharp tips reducing me to tears once more.

I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this! This... curse has stolen everything from me! I can never return home. I have lost my freedom to choose who I may love. I will never see my family or my friends again...

My heart breaks open further, the salt from my tears adding to the raw, aching hole in my chest. Hiccups break the pattern of my sobs, and only after my pillow is soaked with bitter tears, does my exhaustion at last drag me into slumber.

A woman's heart wrenching sobs fill the darkness surrounding me. I call out to her, turning in all directions, but there is no sign of the woman and no answer to my calls.

The keening reaches a new pitch as the woman cries out. "I am not dead! I am here, don't you see? I'm not dead!"

My feet move forward, pulling me towards the sound of her voice. Pain blooms in my side as I run and run. I only stop, clutching at my side, when my breath becomes ragged in my throat.

"I'm not dead!"

At the sound of the voice again, images flash through my mind. I see a pair of young, flawless hands extend in front of me. They look as my own hands look. I reach out for them, but before I can touch them, the smooth skin begins to wrinkle.

I cry out in surprise as the once flawless hands transform into a pair of twisted, knobby hands speckled with brown spots and beset with deep wrinkles.

A flash of fire and melting snow and a strange box replace the changed hands. Through all of these images, I sense an ancient and all-consuming rage and sense of loss. Something was missing. Something had been taken. Something needed to be retrieved.

The woman's sobbing grows again. Once more, I see the flash of flame. This time, however, it takes the form of a feather. A single feather of fire lands on the winter snow, melting it.

"I am not dead! I am not dead! I am not dead!"

"Where are you?" I call out.

"Trapped. Trapped in a lonely place. Free me, free me, free me. Release me from this darkness."

I feel that ancient malice coming closer to me, searching for me. The female's voice fades and the stalking presence vanishes as darkness surrounds me once more.

I am thrown from my dreams, my heart racing with terror. The unfamiliar bedroom only adds to my fear, but a slice of light cuts through the curtains drawn over the windows. I clamber to my feet and rip the drapes open. My window overlooks the garden where the shadowsinger helped me weed.

I smile slightly at the memory, but my relief is soon replaced with confusion and fear. My dreams have become strange and chaotic since my... transformation.

Hot tears sting my eyes once more, and I wipe them away. The urge to move, to escape this room has me pulling a warm shawl over my shoulders and going down the stairs.

I pause at the top of the staircase. The clock downstairs chimes six times, but the house remains still and silent. Surely, the others should be back by now. My feet are nearly silent as I descend, one hand keeping the shawl tight around me. I hear no voices, no movement, from any of the rooms.

I turn towards the kitchen for a glass of water when the front door opens and my sisters and the rest of the group enters. I jump and flee to the steps. Their mouths move, but I cannot hear their words. Feyre's eyes widen at the sight of me.

"Do you need anything?" she asks.

I shake my head. I notice their fancy gowns, the crown on top of Feyre's head and her mate's as well. I blink in surprise at the vicious black armor Azriel and Cassian wear. "No. I was sleeping, but I heard..." I shake my head again. My voice sounds so small and weak. "It's nothing. I just didn't hear you."

Azriel approaches me, his hazel eyes full of concern and sympathy. "You heard something," he says simply.

I nod slightly, retreating a couple more steps. Back towards the solitude and sanctuary of my room. Away from the questions and concerned glances. "I was dreaming... but I'm... I think I'm always dreaming these days."

Feyre extends her hand towards me, offering hot milk. I shake my head more forcefully this time, backing up another few steps. The words come unbidden from my mouth. "I heard her crying. I hear her crying she isn't dead. She is different. Trapped. Just as I was."

"Who?" Feyre asks. I only shake my head again. Nesta steps forward, but both of them stay silent. Waiting.

Azriel speaks again. Only his voice seems to cut through the fog entering my mind. "What did you see?"

Our eyes lock once more, and the words spill out again. "I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it."

My heart skips a beat as my sisters exchange a look. I can sense their fear and uncertainty. They must think I have lost my mind. I'm still here. I'm still here beneath the chaos and dreams. I'm still here.

Only Azriel remains looking at me. I want him to understand. I need someone to know I'm not crazy. More words pour out, but my voice wavers as I speak. "It was angry. It was so, so angry that something was taken. So it took something from them as punishment."

After several moments of tense silence, Feyre turns to the shadowsinger. Her voice holds a note of desperation. "What does this mean?"

Azriel continues to stare at me, studying me. His eyes almost seem to say I believe you. My shoulders slump with relief and I smile at him slightly before he vanishes into thin air. The blonde female, Morrigan, stares at the spot Azriel was before glancing up at me. I ignore her look.

I turn away from the others and climb back up to my room. Let them think what they want. My feet feel heavy.Exhaustion hits me once again as I sink into my mattress. This time, no dreams plague my sleep.

When my eyes open once more, I see Nesta perched on the edge of my bed. "What can I do for you?" I ask her.

Nesta offers me a rare smile. "I'm worried about you Elain. A healer is coming tomorrow to see you."

I study my sister, resisting the urge to rage at her. Why don't you see? I'm not crazy. I'm not, Nesta! I'm too tired to argue though. I don't care enough to fight against it. I reluctantly agree to see the healer.

Nesta takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. "Thank you. Would you join us for tea in the morning?"

I sigh. I'm tired... so, so tired, but for my sister... for her, I'll try more. "Yes, I will. I'll come down for tea."

"Thank you." Nesta rises to her feet. "You should get some more sleep. Would you like anything to eat?"

I shake my head. My stomach churns too much for me to eat anything. Just as it has for weeks. Nesta shoots a concerned glance at me before she kisses my cheek. As soon as she leaves the room, I sink back into my bed and into sleep again.