Nala and Azriel left the early the next morning before anyone else had gotten up. The two flew over the Night Court in silence. They reached the mortal lands on the continent before the sun had gotten over the horizon. Compared to the Night Court, the human lands looked bland and poor Nala noticed.

Reaching the castle ground of the queens both Shadowsingers came to a clear stop, one feeling the magic the other seeing it.

"Fuck..." Azriel grumbled as they landed in the shadows of the trees. "Now what? That is old magic."

"It's strong, maybe our shadows can get through?" Nala commented as her eyes shined with her fire as she looked over that of the barrier she could see.

"You can see this as well?" Az asked, his shadows coming to a stop at the new information about their master's female.

Nala only nodded as her own shadows snuck their way across the grounds, Azriel's followed shortly after.

Nothing Miss, her shadows reported back a few seconds after. "Nothing here," Nala reported out loud, looking back at Azriel to see his shadows around his ear. He too shook his ear; his shadows couldn't get past either.

The two didn't linger much after that, couldn't risk being seen or they might not have a chance of convincing the Queen to give their haft of the book over.

The flight home was silent. Nala looked around most of it, seeing the different strands of magic all around. Azriel was planning how to get into the castle and trying to figure out why Nala could see the magic in first the Wall and now again in the barrier around the Queens' castle.

They reached Velaris by lunch and landed at the House of Wind, Mor ready at the glass doors.

"How did it go?" She asked Az, ignoring Nala completely, so the winged female gave the same energy back. Walking away with nothing more than a brush of her hand against Azriel's as she walked in front of him, cutting though Mor's sentence.

Nala made her way up to the training area where she could here Cas and Feyre training. Going through the door a breeze caught her cape making it flow behind her, giving her an aurora of darkness and mischief.

"How is the fighting?" Nala teased her sister, seeing her stumble on her left punch.

"Shut up." Feyre snapped back, all in good fun, knowing that Nala didn't mean anything mean with her teasing.

Nala threw herself onto the sun chair and kicked her boots of and throwing the cape across the armrest.

Azriel came up a few minutes after Nala, gave Feyre an almost polite hello before throwing himself into sparring with Rhys, his face grim and tight. Just like Nala felt, she just hid it behind a neutral mask as she watched the two Illyrians fight.

The two fought nonstop for about an hour, then removed their leather jackets and shirts, despise the slight chilly sunny winter day.

Their tan, muscled arms were both covered in the same manner of tattoos that adorned Feyre's hand and arm as well as Nala's thigh.

"We get the tattoos when we're initiated as Illyrian warriors – for luck and glory on the battlefield." Cassian said, following the girls stare. All though the warrior wasn't drinking in the picture like the sisters were, the stomach muscles gleaming with sweat in the bright sun, the bunching of their powerful thighs, the rippling strength in their backs, surrounding those mighty, beautiful wings.

Cassian jerked him chin toward his brothers, distracting Nala from her mate. "Rhys is out of shape and won't admit it, but Azriel is too polite to beat him into the dirt."

"I would love to see that though," Nala mumbled under her breath, biting her lower lip as she slowly leaned forward.

Cassian rolled his eyes at the winged female as he filled a glass for himself and clinked it against Feyre's, both missing the wink Azriel sent Nala.

"So," Cassian said, gulping down the water. Behind Cassian and Feyre, Rhys and Azriel clashed, separated, and clashed again. "When are you going to talk about how you wrote a letter to Tamlin, telling him you've left for good?"

"How about when you talk about how you tease and taunt Mor to hide whatever it is you feel for her?" Feyre snipped. Nala stiffened in her seat but never turned her eyes from the two fighting in front of her. The beat of crunching steps and clashing from the boys stumbled – then returned.

Cassian let out a startle, rough laugh. "Old news."

"I have a feeling that's what she probably says about you." Nala's eyes grew wide at her sister's bold statement but stayed silent.

"Get back in the ring," Cassian said, setting down his empty glass. "No core exercises. Just fists. You want to mouth off, then back it up."

Nala laughed out loud, sending her sister a kiss with a smirk on her face, knowing that Feyre doesn't have much raw power.

"Rhys told you?" Feyre asked, her voice and emotions cold and shut down.

Cassian looked nervous at the expression on Feyre's face. Nala only smirked; she loved the power that ran though Feyre. "He informed Azriel and Nala, who is... monitoring things and needs to know. Az told me."

Nala looked at her male at that, he was smart enough to not look her in the eyes.

"I assume it was while you were out drinking and dancing." Feyre drained the last of her water and walked back into the ring. Nala followed her with her eyes, keeping a close look on the older sister's emotions.

"Hey," Cassian said, catching her arm. His hazel eyes were greener then brown in the winter sun. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit a nerve. Az only told me because I told him I needed to know for my own forces; to know what to expect. None of us... we don't think it's a joke. What you did was a hard call. A really hard damn hard call. It was my shitty way of trying to see if you needed to talk about it. I'm sorry," he repeated, letting go of her arm.

The stumbling words, the earnestness in his eyes... Feyre nodded as she resumed her place. "All right."

All though Rhys and Azriel kept going, Nala saw the way Rhys' eyes shift to her sister every couple of seconds. Had done so since Cassian first commented on the letter.

Cassian shoved his hands into the sparing pads and held them up. "Thirty one-two punches; then forty; then fifty." Feyre winced at him over his gloves as she wrapped her hands. "You didn't answer my question," he said with a tentative smile – one Nala was sure his soldiers or Illyrian brethren never saw.

Nala got up from her spot on the sun chair and shook her wings out. Taking Cleaver out, she walked towards her High Lord with a glint in her eyes. Rhys swung his sword at Azriel, but the Shadowsinger didn't move like Rhys had expected, his sword didn't even make it close to Azriel. It was stopped a few centimeters from the Shadowsinger's neck. Nala smirked at the chocked look on the High Lords face. Giving him a wink, she pushed his sword away.

"You are cheating now Az?" Rhys taunted, but Az just smirked at Rhys, his arm curling around Nala.

"Come on old man," Nala jerked her hear towards the High Lord's sword, swinging her own sword, forcing him to go into defense. Azriel attacked Nala from the back, but she had felt it coming and sidestepped him. Silvery threats of magic floating around her as Amren checked in on her because of the sudden adrenalin rush. 

Taking her second sword out she pointed each end towards the Illyrians. The sound of Feyre hitting the pads matched the rate of Nala's heart as the male warriors attached at the same time.

Nala felt her sister's emotions go into overdrive, but she had to feel it, Feyre had to deal with the trauma Tamlin had put her though. Feyre had loved the High Lord, that was one of the reasons why his betrayal had hit so hard.

And then Feyre let out a sob, a tear ran down Nala's face. She couldn't remember the last time Feyre had let herself cry in front of others.

The clashing of steel stopped, Nala had dropped her second sword and had almost let go of Cleaver had Azriel not taken hold of the handle and her hand around it.

Feyre's fists connected with bare skin, she had punched through the sparring pads, had burned through them with the autumn's fire.

And Feyre stopped, too.

The wrapping around her hands were now mere smudges of soot. Cassian's upraised palms remained before her – ready to take the blow, if that was what she needed. "I'm all right," he said quietly. Gentle.

Feyre was exhausted and maybe a bit broken, but she beathed, "I killed them." Nala's leg gave out under her, but Azriel held her up, got her to the sunchair she had been sitting in before. Nala had known what her sister had done to get out from Under the Mountain, knew what Rhys had had to do. She knew that her sister had killed, but hearing Feyre say it, the feeling that went through Feyre, it went through Nala, knocking her legs out from under her.

Cassian's lips tightened. "I know." Not condemnation, not praise. But grim understanding. He didn't dare look at Nala, not wanting Feyre to see what her own high emotions did to her sister.

Feyre's hands slackened as another shuddering sob worked its way through her. "It should have been me."

At that Nala tried to get up, but Azriel held her back. Rhys had already crossed the small space and wrapped the oldest Archeron sister in his wings. His wings cocooned them, the sunlight casting the membrane in gold and red.

"Sit still," Azriel order her gently, running his fingers down her left cheek before going to spar with Cassian. Giving Feyre the illusion of some privacy, even though the other 3 easily could hear them from their cocoon.

"Ah," Rhys said, wing sweeping back as he folded them gracefully behind him. "That."

Feyre squinted at the flood of sunlight. "Autumn Court, right?"

Rhys took her hand, examining it, the skin already bruised from sparring. "Right. A gift from its High Lord, Beron. Nala's grandfather apparently."

Nala looked up at her name. Feyre looked at her sister. Nala sent her sister a small smile, they had talked about Lucian being Nala's father. Something that had come as a huge surprise for the older sister, but even Feyre could see that Nala had his eyes. And Feyre had wanted to kill her former friend for the things Nala had gone through because of Lucian being her father.

Still sparring, Cassian and Azriel were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping. Nala did nothing to hide it.

"I'm not well versed in the complexities of the other High Lords' elemental gifts," Rhys said, "but we can figure it out – day by day, maybe Nala can teach you to control the autumn fire."

Nala nodded at her sister, letting her own fire run though her body and lighting her eyes. Feyre grinned at her sister.

"If you're the most powerful High Lord in history..." Feyre said to Rhys, returning her attention to him, "does that mean the drop I got from you holds more sway over the others?"

"Give it a try." He jerked his chin toward her. "See if you can summon darkness. I won't ask you to try to winnow," he added with a grin. Nala rolled her eyes but got up from her spot on the sunchair and moved closer to her sister.

"I don't know how I did it to begin with." Feyre said.

"Will it into being." Nala said, standing next to her sister now, her shadows slithering around her arms like snakes.

Feyre just gave her a flat stare. Nala shrugged with a smile; she had never been a good teacher at anything.

"Try thinking of me-" Rhys said, "-how good looking I am. How talented – "

"How arrogant."

"That, too." He crossed his arms over his bare chest, the movement making the muscles in his stomach flicker. Nala felt her sister's shyness and desire and wanted to vomit. She really needed to figure out a way to shut down her empath side.

"Put a shirt on while you're at it," Feyre quipped, doing her best not to blush.

Rhys gave her a feline smile. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," Nala said as Feyre said: "I'm surprised there aren't more mirrors in this house, since you seem to love looking at yourself so much."

Azriel launched into a coughing fir. Cassian just turned away; a hand clamped over his mouth. Nala outright laughed at pair next to her.

Rhys's lips twitched. "There's the Feyre I adore."

Feyre scowled but closed her eyes to try and find that darkness inside her.

"There are different kinds of darkness," Nala tried to explain as she felt her sister spiral down a dark rabbit hole. She placed her hand on her sister's arm, letting her shadows lightly touch Feyre. Said female kept her eyes shut.

"There is the darkness that frightens, the darkness that soothes, the darkness that is restful." Rhys continued. Feyre pictured each one. "There is the darkness of lovers and the darkness of assassins. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly bad or good."

Feyre could only see the darkness of that dungeon cell, the darkness of the Bone Carver's lair.

Nala gasped. Cassian swore, but Azriel murmured a soft challenge that had their blades striking again.

"Open your eyes." Nala said, her voice filled with wonder.

She did. And found darkness all around her. Not from herself, but from Rhys. As if the sparring ring had been wiped away ad if the world had yet to begin.

Quiet. Soft. Peaceful.

Nala stepped back, out of the darkness, and the sun blinded her for a split second before her eyes adjusted. She made her way back to the ring where Cassian and Azriel were sparring but kept an eye and ear on her sister.

The darkness splintered and vanished, swifter than smoke on a wind, after a minute or two. Rhys stood still before Feyre, a small smile on his lips at the wonder on her face.

"We can work on that later. For now." He sniffed. "Go take a bath."

Feyre gave him a particularly vulgar gesture and marched over to her sister. "Fly me back?"

Nala only nodded with a smile, lifting Feyre into her arms and took off from the ground toward the townhouse.