Silence again filled the room. Nesta’s heart thundered.

“And all Koschei wants is to be free from his lake?” Rhys asked Azriel.

But Amren answered. “No one really knows the full scope of the Trove’s powers. Beyond freeing him from his lake, Koschei may very well know something about the Trove that we don’t—some greater power that manifests when all three are united.”

Rhys looked at Azriel, who nodded grimly.

“What is a death-lord?” Nesta asked into the silence.

Their stares struck her like stones. Cassian answered, tapping the scar on the side of his neck. “I told you of Lanthys—the wound he gave me. He is literally deathless. Nothing can kill him. Koschei, too, cannot be killed. He is the master of his own death.” He lowered his hand from the horrible scar. The gleam in his eye suggested that his thoughts had turned toward her own powers. She ignored the thing that writhed within her in answer and confirmation, cold fire licking up her spine. Mercifully, Cassian went on, “They are death-lords.”

The words hung in the air. Rhys cursed. “I’d forgotten about Lanthys.”

Cassian threw him a dry look, again tapping that scar. “I haven’t.”

To Nesta’s horror, Amren shuddered. Amren.

Feyre cleared her throat. “So they are trying to find this Dread Trove in order to track down the Cauldron for Briallyn, and likely free Koschei in the process. And launch a war, with Beron as her ally, that would grant them whatever territories they wish. Or give some to Koschei, depending on what bargain he strikes with Briallyn—probably one to his advantage.”

“Again, Briallyn is well aware of Koschei’s insidious influence,” Azriel said. “If her strings are being pulled, it is only because she’s allowing it to achieve her own ends.”

Cassian said, “So we’ve got them on one front, and Beron here, ready and eager to go into war with Briallyn so he might expand his own territory after the carnage halts.”

Nesta’s head spun. She’d had no idea any of this was occurring. She’d picked up hints, but nothing that had confronted her with the knowledge of the danger that faced them. To be on the brink of such disaster again … She shifted in her seat.

Feyre asked Azriel, “Briallyn has not found the Dread Trove yet?”

Azriel shook his head. “Not as far as I could tell. The Dread Trove was last rumored to be here in Prythian. That’s all Koschei knows, apparently. We have that on our side at least. Briallyn won’t risk coming over here—not yet. Even with Beron as an ally. And Koschei is bound to his lake. But they are readying Briallyn to come, gathering her realm’s greatest spies and warriors. There was already a host of them at the queens’ palace. Why Briallyn and Koschei took Eris’s soldiers is something I still haven’t figured out.” He gestured to Cassian. “You need to meet with Eris.”

Cassian nodded. “I will. But we’ll have to shore up the borders. Warn the courts. Tell them of Beron’s plan. To hell with secrecy.”

“We’d expose Eris in doing that,” Rhys countered. “And lose a valuable ally,” he added when Cassian rolled his eyes. “Eris is a snake, but he’s useful. His motives might be selfish and power-hungry, but he can offer us a great deal.” He frowned, and said carefully, “I agree with Az. I want you to update Eris on this, as you promised.”

“Fine,” Cassian agreed. “But what of warning the courts about the Trove?”

“No,” Rhys said. “We’d only risk one of them going after it. Beron would send out every warrior and spy of his to find it first. That he hasn’t done so already suggests he doesn’t know about the Trove, but we need Eris to confirm.”

Feyre asked, “Why didn’t we look for the Trove when we were hunting for the Cauldron ourselves?”

“The Book was easier to find,” Amren said. “And it has been ten thousand years since anyone used the Trove. I assumed it was all at the bottom of an ocean.”

“So we find it,” Cassian declared. “Any ideas?”

“Made objects tend to not wish to be found by just anyone,” Amren cautioned. “That they have faded from memory, that even I didn’t think of them immediately in the fight against Hybern, suggests that perhaps they willed it that way. Wanted to stay hidden. True things of power have such gifts.”

“You say that as if the objects have a sentience,” Cassian said.

“They do,” Amren said, storms drifting across her eyes. “They were Made in a time when wild magic still roamed the earth, and the Fae were not masters of all. Made objects back then tended to gain their own self-awareness and desires. It was not a good thing.” Amren’s face clouded with memory, and a chill whispered over Nesta’s spine.

Rhys mused, “Just as I’m able to alter a mind to forget, perhaps they have a similar gift.”

“But Briallyn is Made,” Amren said. Nesta’s mouth again went dry. “When Briallyn was Made, it likely removed from her the Dread Trove’s glamour, for lack of a better term. Recognized her as kin. Where she might have glanced over a mention of the items before and never thought twice, now it stuck. Or perhaps called to her, presented itself in a dream.”

All of them, all at once, looked at Nesta.

“You,” Amren said quietly, “are the same. So is Elain.”

Nesta stiffened. “If they’re all enchanting you to forget, how is it that Azriel was able to remember and bear the information here?”

“Perhaps once you learn of it, recognize it, the spell is broken,” Amren said. “Or perhaps the Dread Trove wants us to know of it now, for some dark reason of its own.”

The hair on Nesta’s arms rose.

Cassian shifted in his seat. “So we track down the Dread Trove—how?”

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

CHAPTER

21

Nesta’s head went silent as Elain’s words finished sounding in the room. Feyre had twisted in her seat, face white with alarm.

Nesta shot to her feet. “No.”

Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.”

“The last time we involved ourselves with the Cauldron, it abducted you,” Nesta countered, fighting her shaking. She found the words, the weapons she sought. “I thought you didn’t have powers anymore.”

Elain pursed her lips. “I thought you didn’t, either.”

Nesta’s spine straightened. No one spoke, but their attention lingered on her like a film on her skin. “You will not go looking for it.”

Amren said coolly, “So you look for it, girl.”

Nesta turned to the small female. “I don’t know how to find anything.”

“Like calls to like,” Amren countered. “You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.”