2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

There was nothing—no one around.
“I don’t see anything.”
“The rock is the Prison. And inside it are the foulest, most dangerous creatures and
criminals you can imagine.”
Go inside—inside the stone, under another mountain—
“This place,” he said, “was made before High Lords existed. Before Prythian was
Prythian. Some of the inmates remember those days. Remember a time when it was Mor’s
family, not mine, that ruled the North.”
“Why won’t Amren go in here?”
“Because she was once a prisoner.”
“Not in that body, I take it.”
A cruel smile. “No. Not at all.”
I shivered.
“The hike will get your blood warming,” Rhys said. “Since we can’t winnow inside or
fly to the entrance—the wards demand that visitors walk in. The long way.”
I didn’t move. “I—” The word lodged in my throat. Go under another mountain—
“It helps the panic,” he said quietly, “to remind myself that I got out. That we all got
out.”
“Barely.” I tried to breathe. I couldn’t, I couldn’t—
“We got out. And it might happen again if we don’t go inside.”
The chill mist bit at my face. And I tried—I did—to take a step toward it.
My body refused to obey.
I tried to take a step again; I tried for Elain and Nesta and the human world that might
be wrecked, but … I couldn’t.
“Please,” I whispered. I didn’t care if it meant that I’d failed my first day of work.
Rhysand, as promised, didn’t ask any questions as he gripped my hand and brought us
back to the winter sun and rich colors of Velaris.
I didn’t get out of bed for the rest of the day.