The following day was torture for Feyre. Slow, unending, hot-as-hell torture. Nala on the other hand was doing much better with the pressure. While her sister had spent her day on the mainland with Tarquin, feigning interest in his tales, meeting his people, smiling at them, and talking with them, Nala had spent her day in her room. Here, she had sharpened the several different kinds of weapons she had taken with her for the mission. Her two long swords were laying on the bed, shining in the summer sun and looking deadly. Her karambit knives with back handles were placed in her lap as she ran her cloth gently over one of the blades polishing it to perfection.

A gentle knock from the door pulled her attention from the blade in her lap. "Ready for dinner?" Amren spoke, her voice filled with her usual bored tone.

"Is Feyre back from her long date with the Summer prince?" Nala mocked, as she stood from her position in the middle of the bed.

"They just return, and your sister looks ready to confess, so she needs a saving grace." Amren sounded bored, but her eyes told Nala to hurry. And so the bewinged halfling got up from the bed and let the loose black dress flow around her legs.

"Well, let's go save my sister from her conscience." Nala grinned, skipping past the grey-eyed female and down the many halls to the dining room, where Feyre indeed looked ready to confess all her sins.

"Had a good day, sister?" Nala grinned even bigger as she looped Feyre from the Summer High Lord. Said the female let out a relieved sigh as she shifted her focus to Nala.

The dinner itself was an awkward affair. The Summer fae was tense and poor at holding a conversation. And so, they finish in a hurry and were back to their rooms.

Here their fighting leathers were ready for battle. And once again, Nala got dressed in the tight Illyrian uniform and strapped her many knives and swords to her body.

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Rhysand flew with Feyre and Nala flew with Amren to the little temple. Dropping down, Rhys gave a little nod to the three females before taking to the skies again, where he would circle around, keeping an eye on the guards.

The musk under their feet reeked, squelched and squeezed them with every step, all the way from the narrow causeway road to the little temple ruin. Barnacles, seaweed, and limpets clung to the dark gray stones - and with every step into the sole interior champer made Nala's stomach curl from the heavy magic underneath them, along with the thing inside Feyre saying where are you? where are you? where are you? Over and over again.

Nala had spent the entire former night searching and looking for any wards around the site but had in the mornings found none. Even with the heavy magic around the area and had therefore concluded that even if there were no ward, the book was most definitely there.

Nala led the three to where she had found the hatch the night before. "I can feel it..." Feyre whispered, scared of speaking to loud incase a guard might hear her. "It's like it's sleeping."

Nala nodded and with the shadows she moved the musk from the hatch in the floor. "It's down here. I can get in with the shadows, but none of you two would survive being in the shadow realm so we need another way in."

Amren swore as she inspected the hatch. "It's lead, it's to keep the full force in, to preserve it. They used to line sarcophigi of the great rulers with it - because they thought they'd one day awaken."

"If the Hybern King goes unchecked with the Couldron, they just might." Said Nala as she looked over the hatch once more. "It's been sealed of there." She pointed at one corner, where a whorl was placed. "And properly not been opened since then."

Amren nodded. "I would not be surprised if, despite the imprint of the High Lord's power, Tarquin and his predecessors had never set foot here - if the blood-spell to ward this place instantly transferred to them once they assumed power."

"So why cover the Book, then?" Feyre asked.

"Wouldn't you want to lock away an object of terrible power? So, no one can use it for evil - or their own gain? Or perhaps they locked it away for their own bargaining chip if it ever became necessary. I personally have no idea why they, of all courts, was granted the half of the Book in the first place." Amren noted.

Feyre shook her head as she knelt down to place her hand on the whorl in the corner Nala had pointed at. Nala felt the magic shift the second Feyre touched the whorl. Feyre seemed to freeze in her place as the magic leached onto her.

It was quite a few minutes as Feyre tinkered with the lock. And then suddenly, a groan and clink were heard and the door sank down and reveal the staircase underneath.

Amren looked pale from across the staircase, her silver eyes were glowing bright in the dark. "I never saw the Cauldron," she said, "but it must be terrible indeed of even a grain of its power feels... like this."

Feyre nodded and looked pale, while Nala was practically glowing from the power in the room.

Nala walked down the staircase first, haven already been there the night before and knew where the book was. Going straight for second lead door.

"It's in there." Feyre said, as if Nala didn't already know.

"No shit, smart ass." Nala snapped lightly, and Feyre blushed a bit in embarrassment. "Now do the magical hoodoo with your cheating magic." Nala grinned.

Feyre placed her hand flat on the door and closed her eyes as she focused on her sliver of the Summer magic. This time it only took a few seconds before the locked clinked open and for Feyre to fall backward into Amren's arms as water merging and splashed around them.

Faeflight bobbed into the Champer beyond them and all three females haltered in their steps. The water had mot merged with another source - but rather halted against an invisible threshold. The dry chamber beyond was empty save for a round dais and pedestal.

And a small, lead box atop it.

Amren looked at Nala, waiting for the golden eyed female to look for alarms and wards of magic. The silver eyed female trusted in Nala to see the magic, something none of the inner circle ever have been able too or known anyone who could. Nala scanned the room, the doorway and above the doorway to look for any red traced of alarm magic, but only found the milky white magic of the magic that kept the magic out.

Giving the nod to the other two, Nala walked first into the room with Feyre behind her and Amren last. The entire air felt different inside the Champer. The three females all shivered in their boots as they tried to adjust to the sudden temperature difference.

"Let's be quick about this," Amren said with a shiver and Feyre nodded and went to the pedestal.

Though no larger than an ordinary book, the lead box seemed to google up the faelight - and inside it, whispering... The seal of the Summer Court's power, and the Books power.

Nala began couching as the Book reached out to not only Feyre, but to Nala. To Feyre it asked Who are you - what are you? Come closer - let me smell you, let me see you... And to Nala it called to its sister. It called like to like. Power to power. Calling her to use it, to unite with it, to be one again, like it was calling to its other half.

"No wards," Amren said, her voice barely louder than the scrape of her boots on the stone. "No spells. You have to remove it - carry it out." Nala felt the bile in her throat at the thought of touching the lead stone, like it would make her sick. But luckily Amren was looking at Feyre, not Nala. "The tide is coming back in," Amren added, surveting the ceiling, where the water dripped a bit.

"That soon?" Ferye asked, a bit of panic in her voice.

"The sea knows," Nala choked, her lungs felt pinched. "It knows that something is going on, somehow it knows that it's not Tarquin. So hurry, please."

Feyre walked a bit closer to the box, getting ready to take the box and for just a second the magic stilled, and Nala could breathe, only for the next second to be chocked again and even tighter than before.

And the door slammed shut...