Verdict

Azriel’s PoV:

“What the fuck happened to her?” asked Cassian and Az thought he could hear a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Well, Az was feeling a lot of things, and exasperation was not on the top of his list: concern, anger, fear, hopeless, guilt, dread, frustration, helpless, despair, confusion….. The list was very long. He had laid Cal in her bed and was now standing by the door as Madja was examining her.

With help from Keir’s soldiers, Azriel had captured the naga he had found beside Cal’s unresponsive body; she had not really put up a fight that time. She had just kept staring smugly at Azriel, as if she knew something he didn’t. Given that Azriel had ripped off her tongue, he did not have hopes of getting any information out of her, even if he tortured her for what she was worth.

“She did this to herself,” said Madja, looking up at Azriel from the bed.

“What?” asked Azriel, walking towards the bed. Rhys and Cassian were right beside him. “Why would she do this to herself; and how?”

“She had a chain from Hybern wrapped around her neck, see?” Madja lifted a thick chain made of bluish metal. “This must have prevented her powers from manifesting.”

“Shouldn’t all magic have been stripped from her by now since the metal is off her?” asked Azriel.

“Not if she is not here,” said Rhys darkly. “Something horrible happened to her at Hewn City today. Something monstrous; and terribly painful.”

“What do you mean she is not here?” asked Azriel, dread filling his insides.

“Her mind is not here,” replied Rhys. Azriel felt himself sinking to the bed beside Cal. “I have been trying to reach her, but its empty. I have only been able to feel a fraction of the pain she must have felt before she faded. The pain was so intense that even though her mind was banished, the impact and shadow of the pain remains.”

“She is my mate. Why can’t I feel her?”

“There isn’t enough of her left here for you to feel.”

“Do something, Rhys. Please!” Azriel was ready to go down on his knees and beg. He needed to feel her, to be near her. Even if all he would feel was her pain, he would gladly take it.

“Give me your hand,” said Rhys not unkindly.

Azriel obeyed and held out his hand. Rhys took it and then lifted Cal’s hand from the bed. He then pressed their palms together.

Before Azriel could register what was happening, his vision turned red. He felt a horrible burn in his throat and vaguely heard a roar which surprised him as he realised it was from him. He couldn’t help bellowing as he felt unimaginable pain all throughout his body and mind and soul, like he was being ripped apart. The searing pain made him jolt his hand away from hers and he fell to the floor, panting. He felt a warmth in his mouth and he realised it was from having screamed loud enough to make his throat bleed.

“No,” whispered Azriel, grabbing Cal’s face in his hands. Her eyes were still closed but it pained his soul and heart to think that she had been in that much pain and he hadn’t even felt it. “No, no, no, no.”

“Whatever curse or spell has been put on her,” said Rhys, putting a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, “we will find a way to reverse it, I give you my word.” Rhys left the room then and Azriel was left alone with his Cal.

Her eyes were closed and Azriel stroked her forehead gently. He could feel his warm tears race down his face as he sobbed.

He lifted Cal’s hands to his lips and noticed how her fingers were bleeding, the nails broken.

She must have dug them harshly on the ground from the pain. Whatever Azriel had felt, it had been for a short while. But Cal had felt it for longer.

Azriel saw the scratch marks on her throat and the wounds on her fingernails, realizing that she had tried to scratch out her own throat from the pain, the deep bruises showing that she had wanted to end it instead of enduring the pain.

Azriel unbuttoned the top two buttons of Cal’s tunic and noticed the horrible marks on her chest, especially over her heart. The marks had bled, as if she had tried to rip out her own heart.

Even though Madja had healed Cal as much as she could, Azriel still remembered how Cal’s chest had been bent at an awkward angle, as if she had arched herself out of her own body from the pain of it.

His Cal had been in unimaginable pain while he had felt nothing. The thought made him nauseous and he wanted to break down into tears.

“Please, Cal, my dear Snowflake, please. Come back to me.”

The first thing in the morning was the trial of the naga they had caught on the roof, the one who had attacked Cal and was probably responsible for whatever had happened to his mate.

Azriel hoped that Rhys would hand over the naga to him and he would have his way with her. He knew that even if the naga could not speak due to the absence of her tongue, Azriel would find a way to get her to talk. He was the chief interrogator of the Night Court for a reason. He wielded a blade called Truth Teller for a reason.

He would get the truth out of the naga however he could.

The trial took place in the Court of Nightmares and everyone was present for it.

The naga kept staring at Azriel, as if indignant at how she had been accused. She stared at him with a look of entitlement, as if she belonged somewhere else.

They didn’t seem like the eyes of a traitor. They seemed like the eyes of a person calling for help. She had been quiet throughout, not even looking up as the witnesses kept giving accounts that doomed her. She just sat there on her knees, utterly defeated.

Looking at her made Azriel feel a little sad, as if something horrendously wrong was happening.

“Given the nature of your crimes,” said Rhys from atop his throne, his voice dangerous, “I find you guilty of attempting to murder a member of my Court. I find you guilty of putting a spell on a High Fae that has endangered her life. For this, I sentence you to Prison. Till death.”

The entire court seemed to roll with impatience. Azriel heard most of them asking for the death penalty, her life in return for the countless ones she had caused to end.

“Silence,” said Rhys, his voice unwavering. Even though he didn’t shout, the court quieted down. “Take her away to the Prison.”

Azriel and Cassian picked her up by each of her arms roughly, not bothering to wait till she had gotten to her feet. She tripped and almost fell, her fall caught by the two warriors. But her ankle had twisted.

She seemed to cry in pain at that and Azriel noticed that it was bent at an awkward angle. She couldn’t put weight on it anymore and started to whimper when they forced her to walk.

Miraculously, she hadn’t uttered a word yet. Not even a please for them to stop.

The climb up to the prison was just brutal and Azriel told Cassian to take rest. He could handle the prisoner by himself.

He grabbed the naga’s elbows and kept pushing her, making sure she continued walking. He noticed the exact moment her ankle gave away and she dropped heavily to the ground.

“This act is not going to save you,” said Azriel, pulling harshly on her arms and forcing her to stand up. She cried out, tears leaking out of her amber eyes. But when the tears reduced, she just looked at him. Something stirred within Azriel then and he felt awfully uneasy. “Stop that.”

She continued staring unflinchingly at him. Yes, she couldn’t speak at that moment, but she definitely could do other things.

“Stop looking at me,” said Azriel in a snarl of warning. She narrowed her eyes and continued staring in defiance. Azriel drew his hand back and was about to slap her across her face, but something stopped him. He couldn't hit her, it felt wrong. Instead, he grabbed her by her neck and pushed her back harshly. She lost her balance and fell backwards, her ankle twisting more, eliciting a yelp of pain from her. "Eyes down from now on.”

Azriel came to the entrance of the prison where Rhys was waiting. They exchanged no words as Rhys opened the gate and accompanied them inside, continuing to walk deeper into the belly of the mountain.

They came to a stop and Rhys touched the wall, opening a small cubicle into which Azriel pushed the naga in harshly. She groaned as she fell into the space, her hands immediately going to her ankles.

“We won’t be needing these anymore,” said Rhys and flicked his fingers. The shackles disappeared from her hands. “We know you can’t talk since our Shadowsinger ripped out your tongue. But we know you did something to Cal, although we cannot exactly tell what. We will come and talk to you. Until you lift the spell or curse or whatever it is you did to Cal. And believe me, when we come to talk, you won’t like it.”

Rhys shut the door then, leaving her inside on her own.

When they walked out of the prison, Azriel started to ask.

“You didn’t read her mind to know what exactly she did?” asked Azriel.

“No,” Rhys replied. “It is well guarded. A proof of her being capable of such terrible magic is the wards in her mind. She is tougher than she looks.”

“Did you find anything about Cal?”

“No. But we should have some patience. I am sure we will know something. Madja and Amren are working on whatever magic they feel could have been put on her. Nesta, with her affinity for death, is trying to see how close to death she is. But she is absolutely unable to even feel her; just like you were unable to feel her through your bond.”

“Patience? Are you REALLY talking about patience? You remember what happened, right? I had fourteen arrows in my body and twenty-three bolts in my back and wings when I shielded her! That is what they would have done to her if I hadn’t interfered. I don’t think I can have patience when I know what they are capable of doing! You saw what all had happened to her, how much pain they had put her through which made her scratch her own fucking throat off!”

“A war is coming, Az. I promise, I am doing everything I can. And I know you are too. But if we lose, then everyone dies. Cal, Feyre, everyone.”

Cal’s PoV:

The cell was dark, lit only by a small torch at one end.

She whimpered in pain as she realised her ankle wasn’t healing, thanks to the ball of metal from Hybern which had been placed within- where was it placed?

Cal tried to recall where Irina had placed the ball of metal, but her mind refused to remember.

Of course, Irina being a daemati must have messed with her mind, forcing her to forget.

She lay back against the wall, the tears now falling unrestricted.

Azriel and Cassian, her dear friends, had treated her like absolute shit. Yes, they didn’t know it was her, but that didn’t make it any better.

Rhys, her most trusted friend, had sentenced her. Merciless, brutal and thorough had been the voice with which he had sentenced her.

Azriel hadn’t cared that she had broken her ankle. Earlier, if she would so much as get a scratch, Az would fuss about it, asking her a hundred times if she was in pain.

But now? He didn’t care. He had dragged her along the floors with a broken ankle, even when she cried. When she tried to communicate with him through her eyes, he pushed her.

The push had hurt. A lot.

Azriel pushing her down on the ground and then shoving her into her cell was probably going to be her last memory of him.

Cal knew there was nothing she could do anymore. She rested against the wall, hoping her unfortunately stretched lifespan could shrink back again and her life could be over, along with her sentence.