2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

now. “With all those gems and beads, you might be too heavy to carry. I hope you’ve been
practicing your winnowing in case I drop you.”
“Funny.” I allowed him to scoop me into his arms before we shot into the sky.
Winnowing might still evade me, but I wished I had wings, I realized. Great, powerful
wings so I might fly as they did; so I might see the world and all it had to offer.
Below us, every lingering light winked out. There was no moon; no music flitted
through the streets. Silence—as if waiting for something.
Cassian soared through the quiet dark to where the House of Wind loomed. I could
make out crowds gathered on the many balconies and patios only from the faint gleam of
starlight on their hair, then the clink of their glasses and low chatter as we neared.
Cassian set me down on the crowded patio off the dining room, only a few revelers
bothering to look at us. Dim bowls of faelight inside the House illuminated spreads of
food and endless rows of green bottles of sparkling wine atop the tables. Cassian was gone
and returned before I missed him, pressing a glass of the latter into my hand. No sign of
Rhysand.
Maybe he’d avoid me the entire party.
Someone called Cassian’s name from down the patio, and he clapped me on the
shoulder before striding off. A tall male, his face in shadow, clasped forearms with
Cassian, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. Azriel stood with the stranger already,
his wings tucked in tight to keep revelers from knocking into them. He, Cassian, and Mor
had all been quiet today—understandably so. I scanned for signs of my other—
Friends.
The word sounded in my head. Was that what they were?
Amren was nowhere in sight, but I spotted a golden head at the same moment she spied
me, and Mor breezed to my side. She wore a gown of pure white, little more than a slip of
silk that showed off her generous curves. Indeed, a glance over her shoulder revealed
Azriel staring blatantly at the back view of it, Cassian and the stranger already too deep in
conversation to notice what had drawn the spymaster’s attention. For a moment, the
ravenous hunger on Azriel’s face made my stomach tighten.
I’d remembered feeling like that. Remembered how it felt to yield to it. How I’d come
close to doing that the other night.
Mor said, “It won’t be long now.”
“Until what?” No one had told me what to expect, as they hadn’t wanted to ruin the
surprise of Starfall.
“Until the fun.”
I surveyed the party around us—“This isn’t the fun?”
Mor lifted an eyebrow. “None of us really care about this part. Once it starts, you’ll
see.” She took a sip of her sparkling wine. “That’s some dress. You’re lucky Amren is