Divided (Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses Crossover)

Chapter 28

Feyre didn't know what had happened. One moment she was tucking a random strand of hair behind her ear, looking into the small silver mirror and in the next moment, she was no longer looking at herself.

Through the cracks in the mirror she could see a room that she did not recognize from any court. The crown moldings and the tapestry that she could just make out weren't of anything she had ever seen before. Feyre held completely still, barely breathing. Amren had said that the mirrors could be used to communicate, and Mor had actually gotten the mirror to work on Starfall.

Amren had studied the Book of Breathings day and night for weeks, pouring over every page, cracking every code, and the only mention of them described using the names of the mirrors to call on their mates, whatever that meant.

The sound of shuffling feet sounded through the mirror's bond.

Knowing she was about to miss her chance, Feyre finally spoke, "Hello?"

There was more shuffling, but the sounds were farther off, and then a high-pitched voice said, "Who are you?"

Something hitched in Feyre's heart, she knew she had to do something.

"Please don't run. We need your help," she said. "Please"

The shuffling stopped, and Feyre continued, "My name is Feyre Archeron, and I need your help."

There were no sounds for a few minutes, and a sadness gripped Feyre's heart tightly. Deep down, she knew that this mirror would lead her and her friends back to Azriel.

"Please," Feyre whispered once more before placing the mirror on the table before her.

But this time there was an answer to her plea.

A hesitant feminine voice said, "Hello."

Feyre's hand shot for the mirror, and there she was. A young girl, probably in her late teens, staring back at her through the mirror. She had white-blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded Feyre very much of the High Lord of Winter. Her face was broken apart by the shards of mirror, but Feyre could tell she was beautiful yet conflicted.

"Hello," she said again, more quietly.

Breathlessly, Feyre answered, "Hello."

"My name is Aidan Meara Ashyrver Havilliard."

"Feyre Archeron. I would shake your hand, but the mirror and all," Feyre's uneasiness translated through with humor.

The girl smiled widely, and Feyre continued, "Where are you?"

"Well, I'm in the Fae kingdom of Doranelle at the moment, but I'm from the continent of Erilea," Aidan answered, somewhat uncomfortably.

"I've never heard of Doranelle or Erilea. Who is your High Lord?" Feyre asked, scrunching her nose.

"Doranelle doesn't have a High Lord, other than that grumpy blond male we picked up out of the woods. It's ruled by Queen Aelin Ashrvyer Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn. And Erilea is ruled by several different kings and queens," the girl answered, but Feyre was no longer listening.

Grump blond male. Grumpy blond male High Lord. Tamlin. Tamlin and Azriel. Azriel.

"I'm sorry, Aidan," she interrupeted. "Did you say you picked up a blond male in the woods?"

Aidan nodded, slightly confused about her question.

Feyre burst out, "Did he have another male with him? One with dark hair and wings!"

The girl went quiet and looked away from the mirror for a time. Feyre saw something in her eyes that wasn't there before as she wrung her hands.

Aidan asked quietly, "You mean Azriel, don't you?"