I hope you read this chapter and all the other ones that will come after it! I swear it gets better

The boat landed on the ocean and sent waves in every direction. Cicely rushed onto the deck, her feet struggling to find footing on the rocking boat. Queen Maeve stood in front of a large iron coffin, satisfaction etching every inch of her immortal face.

"If I wanted your presence, Cicely Lilith, I would have called for you." Maeve snapped.

"You took back your order to have Lorcan killed," Cicely stated, her voice was clear and melodic, "why?"

"You don't get to tell me what to tell you," Maeve didn't bother to keep the edge out of her voice.

"But there was a reason. Was Gavriel or Fenrys unable to carry out the task?" Cicely pushed and a flash of white teeth revealed a smirk on her lips. Her shoulder length bronze hair fell from her delicately pointed ears and flowed in the wind and got in her eyes.

"I want you to kill him," Maeve ordered, "and the rest of them. Rowan, Lorcan, and Gavriel. They are too dangerous to keep alive." A scream came from the iron casket at Whitethorn's name.

"Who's in there?" Cicely asked, curiosity leading her to take a couple steps toward the coffin.

"Aelin Ashryver Galathynius," Maeve beamed, pride lacing every word.

"Oh," Cicely breathed. "Let me get a read on her, please."

"That would require taking off the chains and-"

"Leave the chains on, it won't be that much of a limitation," Cicely stared longingly at the casket and Maeve sighed.

"I can't deny you anything, Lilith. You do so much for me," Maeve pointed to the casket. "Open it, Fenrys."

"Cicely caught Fenrys's eye. She nodded slightly, and Fenrys eased it open. There stood Aelin, bloodied and whipped, tied up in chains.

"Why is she bleeding?" Cicely demanded, authority seeping into her voice. "How do you expect this to go smoothly if all her thoughts are about pain?"

"It was Cairn," Fenrys growled softly and Cicely frowned.

"Hurry up and get this rutting thing over with," Aelin gritted from where she stood. The Queen of Terrasen swayed on her feet and Cicely felt a pang of pity.

"Bring her down here, and leave us in peace," Cicely ordered, earning a glare from Maeve. "You know how I work."

Once everyone emptied from the deck, Cicely stood in front of Aelin. Cicely's eyes were black and large, eyebrows arched slightly and a dainty nose sat above rose-red lips. The only imperfection was a scar that ran from between her eyes, curving down the right side of her nose and ending at her left cheek bone.

Her royal blue cloak snapped in the wind, the hood just pulled back enough to make out her face. Cicely leaned forward and smiled, "do you know what I do, Aelin?"

"Whatever you need," Aelin snarled, baring her teeth. "I won't give it to you."

A soft laugh from the fae in front of her. "I come from the House of Lilith. Have you heard of it?"

"What's it to me?" Aelin drawled, a challenge in her eyes even as she swayed on her feet.

"Let me tell you. My name is Cicely Lilith," Cicely hissed, "I come from a long line of pure blooded Fae, my magic is rivaled by many males-even Whitethorn. I would tell you what my magic does, but that would ruin all the fun."

Without another word, Cicely entered Aelin's mind and saw every movement, feeling, and thought.

OoOoO

Aelin could feel Cicely going through her head. She could feel which memories she tucked deep within her mind get pulled out. The Wyrdkeys, Rowan, Elide, Lorcan, even Lyssandra were all touched by the Fae's magic.

Aelin felt a pit of dread in her stomach. The fae could enter the minds of whoever she wished, no wonder Maeve couldn't deny her anything-she could be an ally even more deadly than a shifter.

OoOoO

Cicely's sighed, poor Maeve, didn't even possess the Wyrdkeys now. She would use that knowledge when the time came. Maybe for Fenry's freedom? Too risky.

She finally withdrew, and stared into shocked Ashryver eyes. She licked her lips, her canines not nearly as elongated as other Fae, but her eyes made up for it. Proof of her Lilith genes, the crest clipping her cloak together wouldn't cut it.

"Fenrys," Cicely called. "I'm done."

"Don't hurt him, please," Aelin begged and struggled against her chains, "please, not Rowan, not my mate-"

"Enough," Cicely said, her voice lowering. "I decide how to carry out my clients' orders."

Client. Because she was not blood-sworn to Maeve. After all, the war wouldn't affect her at all. Business was the same wherever she went. This was just another way to make money and spend time out of the dark tunnels.

"Cicely," Fenrys whispered once he was on the deck, soft enough that fae ears wouldn't detect it. He shot her a disappointed look.

"Fenrys, what am I supposed to do?" Cicely held up her hands in defeat and spun on her heel.

Fenrys just glared at her back, "I'm so sorry Aelin. Cicely, Maeve calls for you."

"Of course," Cicely growled and looked back once more at the Queen of Terrasen.

OoOoO

"I'll have you leave at sunset. Word has it that they are heading together with a wounded Elide Lochan. She shouldn't be hard to dispatch-"

"I don't dispatch anyone who doesn't need to be, and she's got Lorcan watching her every move," Cicely crossed her arms stubbornly. "But, Whitethorn will be fun."

Maeve shared her mischievous smile.

Cicely picked at her nails. "But I'm sure they won't be a problem. With my gift from my mother, they won't be able to tell the difference between fantasy and reality with what I show them."

"You have failed to mention Gavriel," Maeve arched an eyebrow.

"I'll figure it out," Cicely growled and turned her back on the Fae queen. "Sunset isn't coming fast enough. I leave as soon as I am ready."

The clinking of coins made her look back. A sack of coins was thrown at her and landed at her feet. It was bulging at the seams, enough gold to last her a thousand years was in that sack.

"You will receive the other half when you bring me all three of their heads." Maeve said, resuming to her paperwork. Cicely bent down and picked up the sack. Bowing her head as she retreated out the door.

OoOoO

Cicely clenched her hand into a fist. It was getting harder and harder to pretend like nothing was wrong. She would only have to pretend to be Maeve's loyal non-blood-sworn weapon until this stupid war is over. She grabbed a leather backpack and threw in one set of clothes, gold, water, more gold, and food. She contemplated leaving out soap, parchment paper, and writing utensils, but she threw them in anyway. They only added a couple of ounces to her load.

She shifted into a medium sized Alpine Swift bird and flew from Maeve's boat. Following the scents she knew for over two hundred years.

Scents that would lead her to her prey

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