2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

Cassian braced his forearms on the broad stone railing, his red Siphons like living pools
of flame.
I said, perhaps because I was a busybody who liked to stick my nose in other people’s
affairs, “It meant a great deal to me—what you promised my sister the other day.”
Cassian shrugged, his wings rustling. “I’d do it for anyone.”
“It meant a lot to her, too.” Hazel eyes narrowed slightly. But I casually watched the
river. “Nesta is different from most people,” I explained. “She comes across as rigid and
vicious, but I think it’s a wall. A shield—like the ones Rhys has in his mind.”
“Against what?”
“Feeling. I think Nesta feels everything—sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she
burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too
greatly.”
“She barely seems to care about anyone other than Elain.”
I met his stare, scanning that handsome, tan face. “She will never be like Mor,” I said.
“She will never love freely and gift it to everyone who crosses her path. But the few she
does care for … I think Nesta would shred the world apart for them. Shred herself apart
for them. She and I have our … issues. But Elain … ” My mouth quirked to the side. “She
will never forget, Cassian, that you offered to defend Elain. Defend her people. As long as
she lives, she will remember that kindness.”
He straightened, rapping his knuckles against the smooth marble. “Why are you telling
me this?”
“I just—thought you should know. For whenever you see her again and she pisses you
off. Which I’m certain will happen. But know that deep down, she is grateful, and perhaps
does not possess the ability to say so. Yet the feeling—the heart—is there.”
I paused, debating pushing him, but the river flowing beneath us shifted.
Not a physical shifting. But … a tremor in the current, in the bedrock, in the skittering
things crawling on it. Like ink dropped in water.
Cassian instantly went on alert as I scanned the river, the banks on either side.
“What the hell is that?” he murmured. He tapped the Siphon on each hand with a finger.
I gaped as scaled black armor began unfolding and slithering up his wrists, his arms,
replacing the tunic that had been there. Layer after layer, coating him like a second skin,
flowing up to his shoulders. The additional Siphons appeared, and more armor spread
across his neck, his shoulders, down his chest and waist. I blinked, and it had covered his
legs—then his feet.
The sky was cloudless, the streets full of chatter and life.
Cassian kept scanning, a slow rotation over Velaris.
The river beneath me remained steady, but I could feel it roiling, as if trying to flee from