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“I can do it.” Elain said. “I found the Suriel easily.”
Azriel remained silent, his expression carefully neutral. He rarely slipped on his spymaster mask when they were alone; that he did it at all told her everything. He was letting her argue her position again but his mind was set. Feyre and Rhys’ minds were set.
She pressed forward anyway.
“I know we haven’t practiced scrying,” he refused twice so firmly she hadn’t seen a point in asking again until more time passed, “and it’s been a little while since we’ve tried exploring my visions …” Elain trailed off. She hadn’t meant to allude to the hours they used to spend together. They didn’t speak of them, just like they didn’t speak about why they now limited their time together or why he moved back into the House of Wind.
Azriel’s gaze dipped to her lips; his right wing twitched. Elain’s heart fluttered and she somehow Knew he kept track of the days they were apart like she did.
“Um. The, uh, session we had the other day went well though, and I have continued practicing with the twins. You know that I was able to glean some more information from those old visions. I’m sure I can find the Mask.”
Azriel’s mouth tightened imperceptibly, the slightest shiver of tension rippled from his shining black talons down his wings.
“I can help. I’m ready, I’m not sure Nesta is.”
The worry that had been knotting Elain’s stomach the last few days grew spikes. If the scrying somehow went wrong would it set Nesta back from the progress she’d made? Could it actually hurt her?
Azriel softened at the note of pleading in her voice. “You have been helping, Elly. Your visions have already helped so much. You’ve given me more information than my spies have.”
Elain tore her eyes from Azriel’s hazel ones, her face heating as she surveyed the flat navy waters of the Sidra. Of course he knew that she wasn’t only worried about Nesta. He was the only one who didn’t need to be a seer to see how much she wanted to help her family and her Court, to keep them all safe. To be useful.
The lightest pressure at her elbow made Elain look up; Azriel had closed what little distance there was between them. If she took two steps she would be in his arms. Her feet shifted with the overwhelming need to take those steps.
“You can’t make yourself have visions, and you can’t control what you See. It’s not your fault you haven’t Seen him. He’s a powerful wizard; neither the shadows nor myself can get near him. And he’s protecting Briallyn in some way.” He took a small half step forward and changed the angle of his leanly muscled body so his wings blocked the morning sun. Elain tilted her head back to take him in; she could feel his warmth through her cloak. “Nesta will be all right. She’s started to find herself again, and she’s scried before. Everyone agreed it would be best if she tried first.”
Nesta’s words broke free of the place in Elain’s mind where she kept trying and failing to bury them. They joined Feyre’s delicate dismissal to echo like a scream in a cave. “Because everyone thinks I’m too weak.” She said unable to mask her hurt.
“No.”
Elain’s heart thumped wildly at Azriel’s vehemence.
“No,” he repeated calmly. “You’re not weak. They know you’re not weak.”
A small snort escaped Elain before she could stop herself.
“I know you’re not weak.” Azriel amended.
Everything in Elain’s head went quiet. Despite his near admission on how the Inner Circle viewed her she felt powerful. He endured horrors, he was the best male or man she’d ever met, and he believed in her.
“You don’t have to be a warrior to be strong. You volunteered to scry for us though you’ve admitted it frightens you. You don’t like having visions but you’ve been working so hard delving into them because you’re worried for your sisters. Everything you’ve survived, Elly … to try to find your own happiness and to work so hard on bringing a measure of joy to others. There’s strength in that.” Something like admiration shone in his eyes.
How was breathing the easiest and hardest thing to do around him?
“Let me stay then at least.”
She had hated the plan to hide and ward her away with the twins and half of Azriel’s shadows at a place only he, Feyre, and Rhys knew the location of from the moment she was told but the thought of it suddenly made her stomach turn. She couldn’t leave.
“Elly, you know what happened last time.” The spymaster said.
“That’s because we were looking for the Cauldron. I just wa-”
“No! I don’t want to risk –" Azriel cut off abruptly. His eyes blazed. The shadows lengthened over the frost tipped grass.
“Azriel,” she exhaled.
It was the closest either of them had come to admitting their feelings.
Azriel stilled. She grabbed his wrist. The world contracted to the small, hidden patch of space in the garden between the row of camellias and the river where they stood. The spot she designed for them. Where they sat on the bench built specifically to fit his wings and inched closer each day until their arms and legs rested gently against each other and the position became as reflexive as breathing when they were alone.
Seeking his skin Elain’s fingers slid down the leather gauntlet holding his Siphon, the cool stone glimmering a soft, iridescent cobalt. Azriel inhaled sharply as she brushed her thumb over his palm. What little remained of his guard fell; he looked at her with such yearning she felt it burning golden in her chest. His fingers started to curl around hers and the fire bloomed. An obsidian shadow appeared at Azriel’s ear. His expression turned pained and his hand fell from hers as he stepped back.
“Elain?” Nuala called from somewhere beyond the other side of the tall hedge.
Elain clutched the edges of her cloak desperate for something to ground her. She took deep, steadying breaths; just short of a respectable distance away Azriel’s chest moved in a similar rhythm for a few beats before he settled himself. His face showed nothing.
“Yes?” She replied; she was surprised by how composed she sounded.
If Elain had any doubt that Nuala was aware of Azriel’s presence it disappeared with the rustle of a hand running over leaves. A moment later Nuala, her fighting leathers barely visible beneath the swirl of her shadows, rounded the edge of the green wall studded with pink, white, and red camellias. She smiled and nodded a greeting. “Forgive me for interrupting.”
“It’s fine. I spotted Elain on my way in. We were reviewing today’s plan a final time.” Azriel said smoothly, his words not quite a lie.
“Everything is prepared; Rhys is waiting for you in his study.”
Azriel thanked her and Nuala turned to Elain. “Feyre is looking for you.”
“I’ll be on my way in a moment. Thank you, Nu.” She said.
“Of course. I told your sister I saw you in the front gardens earlier so you have a few minutes if you need to finish your discussion.”
Elain smiled. She wondered if Azriel understood her friend’s deception.
Nu’s figure slipped behind the hedge, her steps unusually loud until they vanished with a light breeze that sent Elain’s hair curling around her throat.
A new shadow the color of iron materialized at Azriel’s side. It twisted around his wings and whispered like the soft patter of rain. If it wasn’t impossible Elain might have sworn it said Amren had arrived.
Azriel finally looked back at her. The gold in his eyes shifted to a dark amber hue as he followed Elain’s arms wrapping around her waist. She wasn’t sure if he was steeling himself for the day ahead or if he needed to stop himself from reaching for her too.
“I’m sure the scrying session will be successful, but if anything happens, I will do my best to keep Nesta safe. Cassian too.” Azriel said with a wry smile.
Elain nodded. She couldn’t swallow down the lump in her throat. He was a good, honorable male, he’d protect Nesta even if she wasn’t her sister or Cassian’s love.
Azriel couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her.
“Thank you. He’s rather grown on me.”
“He does that. Like a fungus.”
She thought she smiled at his joke. She needed more time with him. There was never enough time.
“Please keep yourself safe too.”
I need you to be safe, she thought.
Azriel’s eyes were fixed on her like he heard her unspoken words. “I will.”
It sounded like a promise.
A finger traced an electric line down the side of her hand. Azriel stepped away, the tiny curve to his lips flattening before he nodded to the twins over Elain’s head. He disappeared without a word leaving her to stare at an unfamiliar door made of steel. It shimmered like liquid starlight as Rhys set another ward.
She was flat on her back, Nu straddling her. Elain Felt the cool hand wreathed in smoke and shadows squeezing her throat. She grabbed Nu’s wrist and elbow and shifted her knee to throw her off her but Nuala released her hold, the curls of dark mist pulling tight against her body. They looked to Cerridwen; an opaque obsidian shadow hovered at her ear. Azriel’s shadow. Cerri’s smile was bright with relief.
Elain blinked twice then shivered at the ice slithering down her spine. Azriel watched her carefully, the tightness in his jaw betraying his concern as he waited for her to tell him what she Saw.
She hesitated, her heart racing as she examined her visions. He was right, Nesta would find the location of the Mask. It should have eased her worries; why did the knot in her stomach grow heavier?