Attending breakfast was the last thing Nova wanted to do. Quite frankly, the thought of making eye contact with anyone after that meeting made her want to throw up. Did they know what she tried to do last night? If they did, it was likely best that she never show her face again.
Still, despite her better judgment, she mediated, showered, and dressed before descending the stairs. Many were there, some were not, she realized as she pushed through the doors and quietly took a seat next to her mother.
"Hey, starfish," Finch smiled, which she returned with ease. He continued, "Are you going to help us today?"
"Help with what?" She asked, spooning herself oats and berries into her dish.
Hollis nodded, "We're taking care packages around the village. Kole and Nieve found some suitable wood yesterday for burning, and a few residents are running out."
If Nova learned anything from the meeting yesterday, it was that they had a finite amount of resources left for burning. She'd hate to see the pages in the library be sent to the kindling pile. Glancing at Hollis, she wondered if he'd asked about the scroll yet, but he was busy talking to Bran about using the reindeer to deliver the amount they'd be hauling.
"About yesterday…" Nova said, glancing at her parents and then Kallias and Viviane.
Rhys smiled softly with worried eyes. "We will continue searching for answers, Nova. Think nothing of it. Tamlin was wrong to enter the conversation like that."
Was he? Nova wondered. Or was he just not afraid to make her uncomfortable?
"Every book we've found that mentions the bondage of marriage does not use this instance specifically," Viviane supplied, and sipped her water. "Usually, markings are established after any…physical agreement. Helion reached out to us shortly after and is currently collecting a few texts to send our way that may aid in our search. He's been looking too, along with his daughter. For the tomes he can't send, he said we're more than welcome to visit and search for ourselves."
It was a little easier to breathe knowing that not every High Lord hated them for her walking out. "What about the scroll itself? What was the prophecy said to be about? Were they ever being truthful about its entire contents?"
"It's difficult to say," her mother said, "We've searched for it, even asked Eris for it when he took over as High Lord. The scroll is nowhere."
Pursing her lips, she nodded, "And Tamlin didn't have it the day of the first attack?"
It was Cassian who spoke now, "I put him in his cell myself. He carried nothing on him. Not even a weapon."
"And there's no one else he would have entrusted it to?"
"It's always possible," Rhys nodded, "We can always give it another attempt to find it."
"I wonder if I could…" Nova, initially thinking it to herself, but realizing it had come out of her mouth.
Feyre tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
With all eyes on her, the nerves that had been dormant sparked to life again. She shrugged, "Sometimes, when I meditate, I…go places."
"You go places?" Vivivane asked with furrowed brows.
Nova cringed. Did she sound insane? "Sometimes if I'm searching for something while I'm in that state, I'm able to find it. Not always. There are times when I find myself in places I don't recognize. I know what it felt like to be there, but I can't remember where I was." She thought back to the time in her tree, back on the Island—the place she'd seen and forgotten.
"As though you're traveling?" Rhysand asked curiously.
Nova nodded, "In a way, only in my mind. I don't know if it's the same as seeing what's to come. It doesn't feel the same. It's more like I've been placed there, in that moment. Living it. There was a time when it happened that I closed my eyes during a sunrise and opened them again at dusk—the entire day had passed me, when, in my mind, it was mere minutes. And I don't remember any of it. I was happy where I was. I don't know how it works, but it happens often enough that it isn't my imagination."
"And you can search for things?"
"I think so."
Rhys smiled then as an idea formed, "How about this. We'll visit the Spring Court and the Autumn Court while you're all attending the village. Tonight, if you can try to search for the scroll, your mother and I can try to watch what you see. Even if you can make sense of it, perhaps we'll be able to since we won't be locked into the state you'll be in."
Nova nodded, "I'd like to try."
The prospect itself made her nervous; she didn't necessarily like the idea of opening up to anyone in such a way. While it felt invasive, it was a better option than what Tamlin had suggested.
"As soon as we're done here, we can gather the supplies and visit the village," Hollis said, and Nova shoved another bite of sweet berries into her mouth, not wanting to make them wait for her.
Snow fell in clumps, latching onto Nova's eyelashes as she and her companions left the warmth of the palace toward the village, where all was quiet. One would think no one lived here in its silence. The only indication it wasn't a ghost town was the faces that loomed behind foggy, warped glass.
"They don't leave their homes often, do they?" Nova asked with a slight frown.
"Do we often leave the palace?" Hollis returned gently.
She supposed he was right. The only time she left was to help with the horses or travel the short distance to the training arena. Other than that, Nova seldom left the confines of the palace walls.
"Many have young children," Hollis murmured, "we may be built for the cold, but we're not immune to it. The children, especially, can experience terrible pains in their chest if exposed for too long. It happened to me once, when I was young. Three, I think. I don't remember it well, but my mother called a healer the moment I began wheezing. After that, she had a difficult time leaving my side."
It had been said, thought to be in secret by hushed voices down the hall, that his mother coddled him too much as an infant and that he would forever need to be mothered because of it. At the time of an eight year old, he hadn't understood what they'd meant. Only that he didn't like the way his stomach ached when he'd heard it.
Now, he knew better.
Showing love and accepting affection did not make someone weak. Hollis was not weak. He was kind and compassionate. He felt the emotions of others deeply, and when they hurt, he felt their pain. When he saw another cry, his tears would burn, too.
Sensitive, they'd say.
Too often, those who think they know better speak on everything but what they understand.
I can be brave and kind.
"What?" Nova asked.
Blinking in surprise, Hollis glanced at her with raised brows. "Uh, nothing." Had she heard him? Shaking it off, he supposed, of course, she could.
The first stop was to gather what they needed, and with Finch and Kole trying to stack their respective baskets higher than the other, it made light work for the others. Soon, they were moving between homes, setting wood behind homes in a pile, and rationing food on doorsteps. Even with the large quantity of provisions the Autumn Court had sent, they needed to be careful.
They were making quick work of it, and Nova was beginning to think they'd have plenty of time to train before their parents arrived with information from Tamlin and Eris. Hopefully, they were making nice.
A strange sound came from…somewhere.
Nova whipped her head around with a frown, meeting eyes with Bran, she asked, "Do you hear that?"
With a nod, everyone exchanged a glance, and Kyra said, "It sounds like someone crying."
It was muffled, making it difficult to pinpoint the exact location. Looking from house to house, Nova jogged to the nearest one and peered in through a soot-coated window. Too difficult to see details, Nova furrowed her brows and glanced over her shoulder, watching Hollis and Nieve searching inside the barrels, all filled with ice.
The soft cry came again, and Nova directed her attention not in front of her, but behind her. Turning around in her spot, she stared at a short wooden fence, decorated with icicles. It seemed like nothing out of the ordinary until a fence post sniffled.
"Hello?" Nova asked, inching forward. She pushed back a whack of bristling berry bushes, long since picked clean. There, huddled in the corner, sat a little girl curled up in a blanket of purple.
Stunned, Nova stared at her skin so pale it matched ringlets of her white hair, and lips so blue one would think she'd eaten too many blackberries.
"Over here!"
The others lifted their heads from where they had searched before sprinting toward her, but they slid to a stop as the sight of the little girl came into view.
"Mother above…" Kyra gasped, but it was Hollis who immediately stepped through the brambles and sat on his heels, taking her hands in his.
She was cold as ice.
"It's going to be okay," he said gently, and with hands as soft as the caress of a dove, he carefully lifted her into his arms. "I need a different blanket, something else. The fabric is iced over."
Finch quickly shrugged out of his coat and replaced the blanket.
Nodding, Hollis held her against his chest, with her face against his neck, and he could feel her rapid breaths. "I'm going to get it inside to Madja, check all the housings. Make sure everyone is accounted for. Nieve, come with me, I'll need help opening the doors."
Together, Hollis and Nieve quickly left the village while the others began rushing from home to home. Each one they invaded was warm, and though the residents were startled upon their entry, they were otherwise unharmed. That was, until Bran approached a home where the peeling yellow door hung wide open.
He jogged forward and squeezed through the crooked door, freezing halfway through the frame. Heart in his throat, he stared at the open-eyed corpse of whom he could only presume was the little girl's mother. Inching forward, he swallowed the bile that rose in the back of his throat. He approached her carefully, staring at the unmoving frame with intensity. Reaching down, he placed a hand against her arm, lifted her wrist, and waited for a pulse to jump under his fingertips.
When none came, he closed his eyes just as Nova stepped in with furrowed brows. She sighed softly at the sight of her, sitting back in a chair, relaxing by a long-since dead fire. She met Bran's eyes and released a shaking breath.
Embracing Elain in a warm circle, Feyre leaned back while holding her arms, smiled, and said, "I've missed you."
"As have I." Elain returned with a gleeful grin and offered her hand to Feyre, and together they walked through the Spring Court toward the mansion she'd once loved and fled.
It looked different now.
The aroma of wild flowers and sweet roses did not permeate the air with fragrance. In their place was a pungent scent that stung her nose as they drifted past. While the Night Court had its share of plants and animals falling to ruin under the rot, it was more noticeable here. The branches were bare, and what remained were stark white twigs that seemed to be covered in a strange, ashy gray. It covered the grass as well as the bushes beyond. It was as though a sticky, sickly snow had fallen on the Spring Court.
And it was killing everything.
"Elain…" Feyre murmured as she paused to stare at a statue in the garden, its face covered in so much rot that its features looked distorted. "Are you safe to live here?"
Offering a tight smile, Elain squeezed her hand, "That is another thing to discuss at the table. Lucien and I have debated it for quite some time and…" A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked around the destroyed gardens. She softly croaked, "We may have to abandon these lands."
"Has it reached the mortal lands?"
Elain shook her head, "It stops just before, just at the barrier. The rot crawls up it, encasing us."
As they entered, the odors persisted. It was as if they were walking into an open carcass, forgotten and decaying. They found the other three in the dining hall, where they'd had their first meeting.
Where Tamlin and Beron had revealed the secret of their star.
"The thought had come to mind," Lucien said as they took their seats.
"What had?" Feyre asked.
Rhys nodded with furrowed brows, "Taking the citizens of the Spring Court to another Court…or the mortal lands."
There was danger with either decision. Really, any decision. If they remained here, their people would be covered by the rot. If they fled to the mortal lands, they would be unwelcome. With nowhere to go and no refuge to take, they'd surely defend themselves. If they traveled to another Court, the resources would dwindle again.
Rubbing the ridge of her brow, Feyre sighed softly, "You cannot stay here. That's certain. Why did you not mention this in the meeting?" She asked, looking up, meeting Lucien's eyes, then Elain's…then Tamlin's, but quickly looked away. "That was the purpose, to know how to help each other."
Tamlin spoke in a low voice, "The purpose was to know how far along Nova and Hollis were in the bonding process."
Setting a severe scowl on him, her lip curled, "You were wrong to speak then, and you are wrong to speak now."
"I speak truth," Tamlin said, leaning back, "You just don't want to hear it."
"My daughter was mutilated and raped not two months ago. You do not get to decide what she does or does not do."
Tamlin leaned forward, his fervor now, "And I am sorry for my transgression against her. I was not aware, as everyone involved has kept me in the dark for more than ten years. I was under the assumption they had joined under their own bond by their own will. I didn't think my question would cause such a scene."
"Of course you didn't think," Feyre snarled, "Because you don't think of anyone but yourself. Our plan was set in place. We weren't stupid to reality, as much as you'd like to think. We had intended to allow them to grow together, side by side. Visiting each other frequently to form a natural bond. In the time it had taken for things to get worse, they could have already sealed a bond by themselves."
Tamlin shook his head, "Beron controlled me and would not have acted on what I did had I not been, but you also need to stop pretending that a wish is a guarantee. I am deeply sorry for the way things have transpired, but had you been more forthcoming with your plans, another solution may have been found. You cannot decide to trust no one and then blame everyone else for their act of self-preservation."
Seething, Feyre leaned back in her chair, but before she could lash her tongue again, Elain shook her head, expertly interupting, "The bond did signal completion. Why would they each wield their markings had they not?"
"We've never seen a prophecy like this," Tamlin shrugged and swallowed a bit of wine from his goblet, "if we've never seen it, we cannot claim to know when it's been completed. All of this is experimental and has been since day one."
"What of the scroll?" Rhysand finally asked. "Surely there's more information than what Beron mentioned."
Cringing, Tamlin took another long gulp, "The last time I saw the scroll was the day of the meeting. I asked him once after to see it…he said he'd destroyed it."
"Why would he destroy it?" Elain asked. "Why wouldn't he want proof of what he claimed?"
Tamlin turned on Rhys now, "And why didn't you ask for the scroll the day of the meeting?"
"We did after the meeting," his eyes glinted as the annoyance began to overtake, "And we'd settled some of our nerves. He didn't have it with him. We played cat and mouse, he and I, now he's gone, and nothing is stopping us from searching yet again. Do you know where it is, or not?"
"I don't know, Rhsyand." Tamlin clenched his jaw.
Feyre placed a hand on her mate's arm, trying to tether him to her as she asked, "The day of the meeting, when the scroll was introduced. Beron said it was a rough translation. How rough? Did he tell us only what he wanted us to know?"
"Again," Tamlin gritted his teeth, speaking through them, "I do not know. I was a slave to his control for years, and before that, I was under Amarantha's spell. I lost everything because of what others did in their reach for glory. Now what? I am the villain in all nightmareish stories? You interrogate me as though it were my intention, and it was not." His voice broke on the last word. He looked away and placed his fingers to his chin and shook his head. "I want to help, but I don't know how."
"Alright…." Feyre breathed deeply through her mouth and out through her nose. "Alright. Instead of pointing fingers and placing blame, we can at least all agree Beron wouldn't have destroyed it, surely? So, then where might he have hidden it, and who, if anyone, would he have told?"
Lucien shook his head, "He wouldn't have entrusted it with Eris, I know that much."
Glancing at Rhys, Feyre released a soft sigh. Perhaps Viviane and Kallias were having better luck, and maybe tonight they'd find answers through Nova's meditation.
At least they knew one thing: Tamlin didn't have the scroll.
The day was heavy with loss as everyone joined in the drawing room, watching the little girl, whose name was Eira, sleep soundly against Hollis's chest. With her thumb in her mouth, she nestled against his neck, and he gently rocked her, offering as much comfort as he could.
"Her parents did not die from the cold," Madja said quietly, so as not to wake her as she sipped her tea.
"Of what, then?" Kallias asked with a frown, glancing at her.
Madja paused, swallowed a scalding sip, and in a shaking voice said, "Disease. He was in the bed, she was in the armchair. Both had the same blackened lungs. Almost as if frostbite had consumed them from the inside, but it grew like a bacteria."
"Is Eira infected as well?" Ana asked with a furrowed brow.
"It's too soon to say. Now that she's warmed, he lungs sound clear, but I don't know what the symptoms were that her parents suffered."
Nova rubbed the back of her neck and stared at the fire, "Did you find anything at the Spring Court then? The Autumn?"
"They've buried many," Feyre murmured, "And are in need of relocating. They feared to ask before, not knowing how much room we'd have…if they'd spread their rot to us. Though it seems it already has."
Viviane sighed softly and nodded, "Eris has no recollection of the scroll. He never knew his father possessed it. The entirety of the Autumn Court did not know of the prophecy until Eris became High Lord. It had been a strict order to keep it secret. Why, we have no idea. Either way, he has no idea where the scroll is."
Rubbing her temples, nodded and stood. "I need to be in the right mental state to search for it. I don't know how long it will take. There's often no rhyme or reason to what I walk into," she turned to her parents, "when I no longer respond, you'll be able to enter." It would be difficult to force herself to keep her walls down, but not impossible.
Feyre nodded as she stood, "Even if we do find its location, what do we do?" She glanced at Eira and her heart lurched in her chest- barely four and an orphan.
"We keep everyone inside," Madja said. "We don't know how it spreads or who it will affect. We should keep her in a room as well."
"We cannot isolate her," Hollis frowned. She'd hardly let him go all day, only when Madja insisted did he convince her by stepping a few feet away.
"I understand your intention, but…"
"She's afraid, too," Hollis interjected.
Madja released a heavy sigh and nodded, "Very well. I'll still arrange quarters for her so that we can monitor her symptoms."
Leaving them to work the details, Nova ascended the stairs and entered her room, where she closed the door and turned off the lights. She needed to begin her search, but there was so much tumbling about in her mind it wasn't easy to concentrate. Starting with a shower, she scrubbed herself clean, but every time she tried to calm her thoughts, a new one would enter.
Had the wood they'd burned in their home been rotten?
Had the water they drank been unsafe?
Would Eira suffer the same fate as her parents?
With a sigh of frustration, Nova shut off the water and dried herself. Dressing down in a comfortable shirt and leggings, she took her seat in the wooden chair she'd been using most often. She placed her bare feet on the floor, hands on her knees, and straightened her back. Closing her eyes, she breathed in slowly and deeply, trying to ignore the questions that badgered her like a hailstorm.
Opening her eyes again, Nova frowned and turned her head, taking in the new space. How long had it been since she began? It felt as though less than a second had passed, and she was here.
Where was here?
Looking down at herself, she wore the Valkyrie armor from before the attack. She was as she had been, fitting perfectly with her toned and tanned muscles. She stood in a corridor of gray and gold marble and pillars of ivory. It was contained by an overlook of the sea, where hundreds of feet below, the waves crashed in a spray of foam.
She'd never been here before. At least, not that she remembered.
Carefully, she stepped forward, testing the legitimacy of her trance. When the world didn't sway around her, she continued forward. A door at the far end stood open, inviting her into the cavernous space beyond. It could have been mistaken for a throne room, but instead of velvet seats and elegant decor, it housed weaponry of all types. It was a little fancy for such a thing, wasn't it?
She continued past, exploring what she could only assume was a castle, before realizing she'd forgotten her objective. What was she doing here again? Oh, yes…the scroll. Swallowing dryly, she licked her lips and looked around the room she'd entered. It was a gallery filled with numerous paintings and sculptures, all of which were displayed proudly, but without a name plate.
Something small zipped past her, blinking a soft greenish yellow. It was so quick she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it.
"Hello?" Nova asked the room, turning in a slow circle as her eyes settled on a painting of a castle that overlooked the ocean. She didn't recognize it.
The blip of light she saw before blinked again in her peripheral vision. Furrowing her brow, she turned and stared at the dark entryway that connected to another corridor, leading around a sharp corner.
Taking off at a sprint, Nova slid into the corridor and narrowed her eyes, listening for the sound of tiny wings. Up ahead, at the end of the hall, was the light again. Small, it was suspended in the air and turned on and off again.
"A firefly?" She tilted her head and moved forward. Passing a collection of wooden doors leading to rooms she didn't know about, followed the little bug. Every time she gained a few feet, it moved further away, until she entered another room—a library.
Every wall, taller than she'd ever seen, was neat rows of books. Perhaps she had seen something similar. When she was a child in the Night Court…the first time she saw the library. Where her father had read to her his favorite childhood story.
Glossy wooden tables took up the space in the center, with plush couches and two fireplaces (one on either end of the long room), as well as a grand chandelier that hung above, its crystals glittering in the sunlight of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The blip of light signaled again, and Nova looked ahead. In the very center of the room sat a glass case. Furrowing her brow, she inched forward. Strange, she thought, as it was displayed more like a museum piece. But as she grew nearer and stared past the firefly that sat on its case, blinking its tail in quick repetition, she realized what it was.
"The scroll…" She whispered, gazing through the glass, her eyes swept over it as fast as she could. Eagerly drinking its contents, but as her fingertips began edging the lid off of the pedestal, the ground shook beneath her. "Oh…shit…" She managed as darkness consumed her and spit her back out.
Nova gasped as her eyes opened, only to find she was no longer in her room. She was outside, barefoot in the snow as her parents stood before her with wide, worried eyes.
"Nova?"Feyre asked, taking her hands in hers. "Are you awake?"
Nodding, she released another shaky breath. "I saw it. I saw the scroll." She furrowed her brow and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I tried to bring it back, but…"
Rhys leaned closer, his breath caught in his throat, "Do you know where it is?"
Shaking her head, Nova swallowed, "No…" She swallowed. "But I read it."
Brows raised, Feyre nodded, urging her to continue.
"It was a poem, or a riddle, I think." She closed her eyes and willed herself to recall the words.
"Cut the ties to balance the weak
Tie the binds to find what you seek
Should you fail before the end
The hanging tapestry shall never mend
With a painter's palette of fading light
Forever will be forever night."
Nova shuddered from the cold, and before she could say another word, they ushered her inside. In his haste, Rhys dashed to Kallias's study, nearly crashing into the desk as he did, and picked up a quill. Feverishly, he scratched out Nova's words and stared at them.
"What did you find?" Kallias asked from behind him, quickly approaching to look beyond his arm at the words.
Rhys shook his head. "I have no idea, but it is a step. In which direction, I don't know."