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Stone. He was surrounded by stone. The light was dim. The cave was quiet. He knew this place. Why did he know this place?
He took in a steadying breath and felt for his swords, shaking his head as he realized they were missing. Whoever captured him had underestimated what he could do with his hands and legs. Illyrians were taught to fight to survive and that also meant knowing how to fight dirty.
He crept towards the narrow opening he could see in the cave walls. Quiet. Unsure if his captors were still here or if they had dumped him and left him for dead. If the cave lead to complex catacombs, he would have to be careful in order to survive. He had to hand it to them- this was a perfect place to dump someone like him and if he was on the same side as them, he might even admire the plan.
He caught a flash of red, before he felt a long blade plunge through his stomach, falling to his knees at the blow. He craned his neck to see- to try to face his attacker- but the shadows were too dark, the siphons did nothing to illuminate his face. But siphons. His attacker had more than one siphon.
************
He jerked awake on a snow covered mountain. Cold. He was so bitterly cold. He heard the sounds of women and children behind him, laughing, enjoying the clear skies in the depths of winter. He had heard that sound before. Where had he heard it before?
A scream went up- just the one at first. But others soon joined it. He forced himself to his feet and he stumbled before he was able to find his running gait. He spread his wings to fly, but they caught nothing, causing him to skid to a halt. He looked over his shoulder and his wings…his wings were gone. The pain he felt in his back, the bitter cold. He reached a hand back and felt where they should be and when he pulled his hand around all he saw was blood.
Who…what…when. This was one of the severest forms of Illyrian punishment- to have your wings amputated and be left for dead on the mountainside. What had he done to deserve that? How had he survived it? As he moved through the village he saw it- the same thing for so many of the males. They were all dying and as he collapsed to the ground, a set of familiar boots moved into his vision. Why did he know them?
*********
He shook as his eyes opened again. He was dreaming. He must be dreaming. Some monster had pulled him into his dreams and was forcing him to live all of these horrors. And he was trapped here. He was trapped in his mind and he had to find a way out- the glittering steel that normally locked everything out- had locked him in.
‘You must face it.’
There was nothing here to face. Nothing except this thick fog that blanketed him and rolled with every single step he took. He noticed a mirror and he took steps towards it. A hand reached out, gripping him. He tried to run. Tried to get away. But then he was falling, hurtling towards the ground and certain death. He let out a scream before his body slammed into the ground, but didn’t shatter. No. No shattering would be too quick.
He looked at the new landscape- more mirrors. More reflections of himself surrounded him. And then the scenes started to play out. His heart clenched. This. He had to face this. He had to face himself.
“Cass. Cass, please wake up. Wake up.” Nesta shook her mate’s shoulders as he writhed in his dreams, completely locked away from her. She had woken to his barks of pain. Nothing she was doing could help. “Azriel!”
Shadows moved and through them stepped the Shadowsinger, his hand grasping his own chest. Whatever this was- it was affecting him too. Somehow though- Azriel was able to fight it. So why wasn’t Cass? Why was he not waking up?
“Koschei?”
“Probably. Lai…I had some help to pull out of it. Get Rhys. His daemati powers stand a better chance than any powers we have.”
“And Elain?”
Azriel froze as he stared at her and she only nodded her head. She had known from the first night that Azriel had spirited her away from the Riverhouse, when she had nearly died and he could no longer stay away. She kept their secret because she saw the good that it did for them both, but that secret was about to be revealed. She only hoped that she might be able to buy them some good graces from Rhys with the fact that Elain being here had saved them.
“She’s holding it off. Preventing it from getting worse to try to give Cass a chance to break out of this so that we can fly to a more heavily warded place. Something failed in the wards tonight and it let him in. I need to go to her.”
Nesta trembled as she stared at her mate, the sweat pouring off of his body as he fought what was going on. As he fought whatever was happening in his mind. She took a deep breath and then nodded to herself. She would go get Rhys. Have him join in the fight to push Koschei out of Cass’s brain and when it seemed possible, she would reach in and try to pull him to her. To pull him back to be with them.
“I’ll be back, Cass. I promise. Just hold on, baby.”
***********
Nesta threw open the doors to Rhys and Feyre’s bedroom- the calm of the Riverhouse making her furious. The protectors of the Night Court- asleep as their dearest advisors fought for their very lives. Rhys jerked awake first- his powers slamming into her and she grabbed at them, pulling them away from her body as she met him with a glare. She felt the flames in her eyes must be showing.
“Azriel and Cassian are being attacked by Koschei. Elain is holding it off. Your daemati powers are needed, High Lord.”
A flicker of concern passed across Rhys’ features before understanding. He winnowed out of the bedroom, as Feyre slowly awoke and she stared over at Nesta. Her confusion was evident and she let out a calming breath. She needed Feyre to take her back and they needed Feyre so that Azriel might survive Rhys realizing he had broken his orders. She doubted that Rhys would care that they were only alive because Azriel had done that.
“What…Rhys…Nesta…”
“Koschei. He wove his way into Azriel and Cass’s minds. Elain is holding him off.”
“Why is Elain there?”
“Less talking, more winnowing. I’ll explain once Cassian is back with us.”
Feyre took her arm and they then winnowed back to the Townhouse, landing in the garden. Nesta heard a whimper and turned to see Elain holding her hands out, pressing back against some invisible force that threatened to overwhelm her. She shook with the effort, her eyes an eerie shade of white. She was not in this world, but she was protecting what was precious to her in it. Azriel had a hand firmly pressed against her back, his face pale, but a faint shield surrounded her. She was keeping the threat out and he was fighting to not let it in.
“Get the fucking wards back up- now. I don’t know how much longer she can hold him back.”
Nesta breezed by Rhys as she sprinted for where she had left Cassian. If Elain were to lose the grip she had on Koschei, there was only one hope for him and that was her. She felt the bond in her ribs and pulled, yanked at it in her desperation. She could not lose him. She could not let him go this way.
She burst into the bedroom, Cassian still struggling against whatever was attacking him in his mind. She pulled him into her lap and placed a hand on his chest, gripping the bond and willing him to come back. Willing whatever this was to break so that when Elain failed, when she could no longer hold back the onslaught- that he would already be with her. She heard her sister’s scream and then silence. And also stillness. Cassian had gone rigid in her arms.
A heartbeat passed, then another. He took in a deep ragged breath, jerking upright in her arms and she clutched him tight. His breathing was labored, but his eyes were open and he was back with her. His breath left him in a whoosh as he tried to form words, but he just clung to her instead. And she held him, waiting. Waiting to hear what had terrified her Illyrian warrior so much that it had trapped him in his own mind.
“I…I’m the monster, Nes.”
“No, no baby. You never could be.”