A Court of Light and Embers

Chapter Four

Bryce moaned, flopping onto a park bench and shucking off her heels. She massaged her throbbing feet. "All that walking in heels for nothing."

Hunt ran a hand through his hair, frowning. "I can't believe it. None of the tattoo parlours here have made those tattoos."

"Maybe they inked them themselves?" Bryce said, shielding he eyes from the bright sunlight with her forearm. A pretty fountain trickled somewhere to her left. "I don't even care anymore."

Hunt sat beside her, placing a hand on her thigh. "We need to head back to the 33rd Legion. I need to- are those chocolate croissants?"

Bryce blinked at Hunt, her mouth full of delicious, crumbly pastry. "What?" She mumbled, crumbs spilling from her mouth. She plucked another croissant from the box in her purse. "Want 'un?"

Hunt sighed, rolling his eyes. He begrudgingly took the pastry, taking a huge bite out of it. Bryce started on her second one. "Can you do me a favour?" Hunt said once he had swallowed his mouthful.

Bryce licked the flakes off her fingers. "What is it?"

"I need you to go home and look at different family names."

Bryce frowned. "Why?"

Hunt stared out across the lush park where they had stopped at for a break. "Celaena's eyes; they're different to Aleah's. Her eyes are pretty incredible, and to have such a striking colour... it has to be genetic. I don't believe that pathetic lie that they're sisters. I need you to try and find a family line with turquoise and gold eyes."

~

Aelin blinked blearily, her head spinning. She slowly sat up. Knocked out twice in one day? The universe just loves to test me, she thought sourly.

She was sitting on a thin mattress, the steel bed frame holding her up cold and unforgiving. She was in an even smaller room than before, still the same sterile white, though. A small toilet sat in a hidden corner for her to relieve herself, and a large glass door opposite her gave her full view of the hallway beyond. As far as she could see, there were about twenty or so more cells identical to her own.

She got up on wobbly legs, picking at the white linen pillowcase-like shift they had shoved her into. The cold stone biting her bare feet, she walked over to the glass door, peering down both ends of the corridor. No-one was in sight.

"Aleah?" Aelin called, not daring to use Feyre's real name.

No answer.

She sighed, laying back down on her bed. She tucked an arm under her head, the other resting on her stomach as she processed her thoughts.

She drifted off into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning under her paper-thin blanket. When she awoke, drenched in sweat and panting, there was a plastic tray of food sitting in a long chute by her bed. She sat up, wiping the hair from her eyes and grabbing the meal.

It was a pathetic excuse for supper; some cold, mashed vegetables; a tiny slice of meat; and a small cup of water. She forced it down, only then realising how starving she was.

Once done, she placed the tray back into the chute, and watching in fascination as it slid back into the wall. Strange.

After using the small lavatory to relieve herself, she sat on the floor in the middle of her cell. Humming, she combed out her hair with her fingers, then braided it back and secured it with a strip of fabric from her shift. Next, she opened her mouth and reached behind her teeth.

She gagged as her fingers scrapped her throat, her nails fumbling in the gap between her teeth and gum. She felt something click, then pulled the lock-picking kit from her mouth.