Throne of Glass and ACOTAR Crossover (complete)

Chapter 35 - Aelin

I feel almost numb. The foundation of the world has been rocked, and I am clinging on for dear life, hoping that I don't fall off the edge. Ok, maybe I'm being a touch dramatic, but if any situation warranted it, it would be this.

After Hybern's announcement cheers and chaos erupted throughout the hall. Everywhere I looked people were jumping or crying or throwing their arms in the air. Or bowing. There was a lot of bowing.

For my part, I stood, unable to move or speak, on the dais. Beside me I could feel Rowan's shock and fury pounding like blood through his veins. On my other side Feyre stood, as cold and unreadable as a hunk of stone. I'm not even sure she blinked.

Now we are standing to the side of the stage, in the shadows. After the party had well and truly commenced we had been moved here, out of sight. Hybern had even removed the magic holding my tongue. The message is clear. We aren't important anymore. We played our parts, the helpless weaklings, watching as the all powerful king destroyed our hopes. Now we are to wait patiently until the king has a spare moment with which to kill us.

I breath in deeply, then out again. I need to get a grip. I need to come up with a plan. But my mind is blank. I have no weapons, no magic, and no allies with magic or weapons. I can think my way out of a lot of situations, but this doesn't seem to be one of them.

Rowan walks over to me, and presses his side into mine. The contact, the first we have shared since coming to this Gods-forsaken place, feels like a breath of fresh air.

"We'll get out of this Fire-heart" he whispers in my ear "We've gotten out of worse."

I want to believe him, I do, but I don't see how.

Suddenly Rowan tenses, his eyes glued on somebody I can't quite see.

"What do you want?"

The figure moves closer a step, and I recognize him. It's the red - haired Fae that Rowan and I fought when we first arrived here, what seems like a century ago. Lucien, I think his name was.

Lucien holds up his hands before him, showing us his empty palms. It doesn't comfort me. In this world, blades aren't the weapon you have to watch out for.

"I've come to talk, and to offer you a deal" he says, his voice soft. So soft that the party goers outside of our clump of shadows won't hear a word. In fact, I realize, he's placed himself so they won't see him either. Clever.

"And why do you think we would want to deal with you?" I ask, my voice slightly rough and sharp and a toned blade. I'm not in the mood for honeyed words and politics.

Lucien reaches into his pocket and draws something out, very very slowly.

A key.

My eyes fix on it. It looks so small, so inconsequential, but if it is what I think it is, it could mean our lives.

A small half smile plays across Lucien's mutilated face. "Thought that would get your attention."

His eyes flick to Feyre, but she hasn't moved. She hasn't done a single thing since the wall fell.

There is a brief flash of something across Lucien's face, something indecipherable, but then it's gone, replaced with determination.

"I will give you this key, and I think I can buy you about five minutes to make you escape. That's it. If you don't make it out it isn't on me."

I freeze. This is a trap, it has to be. From what I have gathered from Feyre stories, Lucien is loyal to Tamlin, blindly, completely loyal. If he is offering us this, there has to be a catch. But. This might be our only chance. I have no doubt that as soon as this party is over we are all scheduled for a meeting with the business end of an ashwood dagger.