Chapter 1

The entire world was… damp.

Nesta's breath came in bursts of steam as she panted. Her furs were almost unbearably heavy with water from endless days in the mists that hugged the mountaintops. Even protected as she was by the dense oaks, rain still drip-drip-dripped over everything. Not enough to be wet pre se but… damp.

It didn't matter though. Nothing mattered except putting one foot in front of the other and pressing on through the forests. Every step could be the difference between escape and capture. Especially now.

Eleven days ago, Cassian left for Velaris. He'd never been gone longer than a single evening, certainly not long enough for Nesta to mount any serious attempt at fleeing that Illyrian camp her damned sister banished her to. Four months- four months- of playing the good little girl and training under Cassian's hawkish gaze. Four months of patience with only her wrath to warm her heart.

Then her half-breed brother-in-law called a summit of High Lords- five days of discussion and meetings- meaning he needed Cassian there to help Azriel keep everyone in line. The summit was a way to improve inter-Court relations and cooperation, so it would be held in the newly renovated House of Wind where the ponce could show off his precious Velaris.

Nesta, well behaved as she was, could surely be left under the supervision of Lord Devlon during Cassian's absence… except all it took to convince him to leave her alone for eleven days were two simple words: "Lady troubles".

Nesta packed up and walked out of camp in broad daylight mere hours after Cassian's departure. Every step since then had been to obscure her path and put as much distance as she could between herself and that wretched cabin she'd been forced to share with the Illyrian.

Her goal was the eastern coast of Night, but she took a decidedly western path through the foothills to help throw off the trail. Everyone would expect her to go west to the coast, then travel south to the border of Day- which Azriel would undoubtedly put eyes on.

Instead, Nesta hooked around a mountain, climbing higher and higher until she deemed it safe to turn eastward. She intended to cross the continent, reach the coast, find a port, and sail not to Day but to Spring. Nesta had no money, but she'd been screwing Illyrians for alcohol behind Cassian's back, and passage out of Night was a much more worthy use of the body she'd never claim as her own.

All the planning in the world would be for nothing though if Cassian caught her. It was hours since Nesta last saw sky through the trees, but she estimated it was early afternoon. Either he'd gotten in first thing in the morning and was already on the hunt, or he would arrive at sunset and this was her last day of travel unpursued.

'I'll get as close to Tamlin as possible, but not close enough to risk him seeing me,' Nesta couldn't be sure the High Lord wouldn't turn her over to Feyre as a gesture of some sort. Her sister hated Tamlin- or had the last time Nesta bothered listening to her. No one would be running to Spring to look for her, and Beron was so tedious in the High Lord's meeting two years before that she refused to even consider Autumn.

No, Spring was the safest option, at least until she could pay or fuck her way off Prythian.

The thrill of the escape, the thought of being away from the Court and the entire damned continent was the first thing in memory that made Nesta feel something akin to alive. Sex didn't shame or please her and alcohol only made time pass faster, but the thought of her family's outrage as they tried- and failed- to find her year after year fed a vicious, cruel piece of her soul and brought a smile to her lips.

The monsters of the forest paid no mind to her as she made her escape, but Nesta still wouldn't risk a fire that night. They feared the female who reeked of the Cauldron, but there was no need to make the beasts question that fear by letting her guard down. Monsters aside- Cassian's hunt had either already begun or would commence at sunset. If she lit a fire she might as well stand in the middle of an open field screaming 'I'M RIGHT HERE!'

Eleven days in the forest with no fire, wearing wet furs, and eating strips of salted meat were taking a toll. Nesta's pace was dangerously slow considering her pursuers. She tripped over nothing at all, and beneath her leather pants her legs were bruised and bloody thanks to her own cold-numb feet.

She was weak, exhausted, and severely trying the patience of even fae survival abilities. Time and again Nesta would pull herself back up onto her feet and press on- but as the hours crawled by she questioned what the bigger risk might be: an evening fire to warm her body and steady her hands, or bloody legs that beckoned to every forest beast?

Nesta felt a frigid breeze kiss her cheek and a splash of light flickered through the branches. She hesitated- ahead, behind, and to her left the trees were dense as ever, but on her right they'd thinned abruptly.

An outcropping.

It didn't matter to her what the view might be- why should it? She knew she was high up in the mountains, so long as she didn't go higher or lower she would keep the path. As much fog and mist as there was in the mountains, Nesta wouldn't be able to see far, but what if Cassian were following her? What if he'd guessed her path and was already circling overhead, looking for her?

The aching darkness she'd stolen from the Cauldron roiled in her veins. A shiver wracked her body at the sensation- it was the first time she'd felt that power since the final battle with Hybern. Nesta stomped down on it and tried to continue on her path- but the magic shifted again. It pulled her towards that light.

See see see see see see see see… The Cauldron's voice chanted in the back of her mind.

If only to silence it, Nesta finally turned and walked through the trees to a rocky ledge. She crept out of the forest's protection and squinted, trying to peer through the mountain clouds.

A breath of wind stirred through the valley below, affording only the briefest glimpses of whatever it was the Cauldron wanted her to see.

Five seconds was all Nesta had.

Five seconds was all it took to turn Nesta on her heels and send her racing back into the forest-

-and all the way to Devlon's Camp.