2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

I glared up at Rhysand, who merely stepped toward the breakfast table. “I’m waiting for
an explanation, too,” he merely said to wide-eyed Cassian, Azriel, and Mor.
But I turned to Amren, who was still hissing on the floor. Her red-rimmed eyes
narrowed. “How?”
“During the Tithe, the water-wraith emissary said they had no gold, no food to pay.
They were starving.” Every word ached, and I thought I might vomit again. He’d deserve
it, if I puked all over the carpet. Though he’d probably take it from my wages. “So I gave
her some of my jewelry to pay her dues. She swore that she and her sisters would never
forget the kindness.”
“Can someone explain, please?” Mor called from the room beyond.
We remained on the floor as Amren began quietly laughing, her small body shaking.
“What?” I demanded.
“Only an immortal with a mortal heart would have given one of those horrible beasts
the money. It’s so … ” Amren laughed again, her dark hair plastered with sand and
seaweed. For a moment, she even looked human. “Whatever luck you live by, girl …
thank the Cauldron for it.”
The others were all watching, but I felt a chuckle whisper out of me.
Followed by a laugh, as rasping and raw as my lungs. But a real laugh, perhaps edged
by hysteria—and profound relief.
We looked at each other, and laughed again.
“Ladies,” Rhysand purred—a silent order.
I groaned as I got to my feet, sand falling everywhere, and offered a hand to Amren to
rise. Her grip was firm, but her quicksilver eyes were surprisingly tender as she squeezed
it before snapping her fingers.
We were both instantly clean and warm, our clothes dry. Save for a wet patch around
my breast—where that box waited.
My companions were solemn-faced as I approached and reached inside that pocket. The
metal bit into my fingers, so cold it burned.
I dropped it onto the table.
It thudded, and they all recoiled, swearing.
Rhys crooked a finger at me. “One last task, Feyre. Unlock it, please.”
My knees were buckling—my head spinning and mouth bone-dry and full of salt and
grit, but … I wanted to be rid of it.
So I slid into a chair, tugging that hateful box to me, and placed a hand on top.
Hello, liar, it purred.
“Hello,” I said softly.