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Inspired by the lovely @aelinfeyreisa ! Please support their masterlist as well ! I just wanted to make one that included more quotes, I have the Kindle app so it’s easier for me to search for the specific scene that I need if I have a quote from it.
ACOMAF:
CHAPTER 24 - Elain + Azriel meet for the first time (Elain is wearing a cobalt dress).
• “A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent”
• “Elain said, “It’s all very disorienting.” “I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.”
• “Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said.”
• “Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”
CHAPTER 49 - Feyre discusses how her sisters would fare in Velaris.
• “And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped quietly loving Mor.”
ACOWAR:
CHAPTER 24 - Azriel carries Elain in his arms, no shadows to be seen. Feyre + Rhys discuss what it means to reject a mating bond.
• “Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden- brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.”
• “Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”
• “Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.”
• “Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”
• “What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden— “that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”
• “You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.” “So is Azriel.” “Azriel,” Rhys said, “has been preoccupied with the same female for the past five hundred years.”
CHAPTER 27 - Elain interrupts the IC’s meeting & mentions her visions. Everyone thinks she’s lost it, doesn’t take her seriously, but Azriel does and asks her what she’s seeing.
• “I didn’t hear you.” Azriel stepped forward. “But you heard something else.” Elain seemed about to nod, but only backed away. “I think I was dreaming,” she murmured. “I think I’m always dreaming these days.”
• “What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again.”
• “I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.” My stomach dropped to the floor. One glance at Nesta confirmed that she felt it, too. Saw it. Mad. Elain might very well have gone mad— “It was angry,” Elain said quietly. “It was so, so angry that something was taken. So it took something from them as punishment.” We said nothing. I didn’t know what to say—what to even ask or demand. If the Cauldron had done something to her as well … I faced Azriel, exposing my palms to him. “What does that mean?” Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”
CHAPTER 30 - Az + Cass pay the sisters a visit, Az takes Elain to the garden.
• “The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink. Both males went a bit still.”
• “I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.”
CHAPTER 32 - Seer declaration.
• Elain discusses her visions + Azriel listens to her, declares her a seer.
• “Nesta took a steadying breath, opening her mouth to either whisk Elain upstairs or move on. But Azriel asked softly, taking a single step over the threshold and into the sitting room, “What other?” Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. “The queen—with the feathers of flame.” The shadowsinger angled his head.”
• “Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”
CHAPTER 33 - Aftermath of the seer declaration, Feyre says that it makes sense that Azriel was the only one who listened to Elain.
• “It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”
CHAPTER 50 - Shadows + Scars
• “Behind me, Mor took Nesta and Cassian by the hand, readying to winnow them to the camp, while shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster’s display.”
• “Then Azriel, gently taking Elain’s hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.”
CHAPTER 63 - Azriel notices Elain is missing.
• “But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?” Something cold went through me. Nesta was just staring at Azriel. Staring and staring— Then she broke into a run.”
• “Azriel stalked to my side, right into the tent where Nesta had now come to her feet. He tucked his wings in tightly as he squeezed through the narrow space, ignoring Nesta’s snarl of warning, and knelt at the cot. He ran a scarred hand over the rumpled blankets. “They’re still warm.”
CHAPTER 64 - Discussing getting Elain back.
• “From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”
CHAPTER 65 - The rescue of Elain.
• “I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her.”
• “Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.”
• “Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. “Hold tight,” he ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.”
• “Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out.”
• “She let out a sob at the sight of Elain, still in Azriel’s arms.”
• “Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.”
• “Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.”
CHAPTER 69 - Azriel lends Elain Truth-Teller
• “Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”
• “Elain weighed my words … and slowly closed her fingers around the blade. Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”
• “Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”
CHAPTER 74 - Elain stabs Hybern using Truth-Teller
• “Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”
ACOFAS:
CHAPTER 2 - Feyre is discussing Nesta + the war.
• “Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.”
CHAPTER 4 - Mor & Feyre are discussing Solstice gifts.
• “You honestly think he’d ever give up Truth-Teller?” “He gave it to Elain,” Mor said, admiring a moonstone necklace in the counter’s glass case. “She gave it back,” I amended, failing to block out the image of the black blade piercing through the King of Hybern’s throat. But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before.”
CHAPTER 7 - Azriel isn’t spying on Lucien & is worried about getting presents for the sisters.
• “Send Lucien, then. As our human emissary.” I studied the tenseness in Azriel’s shoulders, the shadows veiling half of him from the sunlight. “Lucien is away right now.” Az’s brows rose. “Where?” I winked at him. “You’re my spymaster. Shouldn’t you know?”
• “I don’t make a point of looking after his movements.” “Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.” I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.” To know when and if Lucien sought her out. What they did together. “You sure about that?” I asked quietly. Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea.”
• “Do you think he can handle being around Graysen?” Az’s expressionless face was precisely the reason he’d never lost to us at cards. “Why should I be the judge of that?” “You mean to tell me that you weren’t bluffing when you said you didn’t track Lucien’s every movement?” Nothing. Absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. The shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well. Too much.”
• “Azriel only said coldly, “If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.”
• “Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” “No,” I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief. Seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips.”
CHAPTER 12 - Dinner with the IC.
• “Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows.”
• “Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.”
• “- in time to see Elain say to Azriel, “Hello.” Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them.”
• “Azriel set the potatoes in the center of the table, Cassian diving right in. Or he tried to. One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate. Amren just smirked over the rim of her wineglass.”
• “Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.” “Pig,” Mor supplied. Cassian gave a pointed look to the plate of green beans, chicken, bread, and ham already half eaten on Mor’s plate. But he relaxed his hand, leaning back in his chair. “I never knew you were a stickler for manners, Az.” Azriel only released Cassian’s hand, and stared at his wineglass.”
• “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’d never heard Elain’s voice so cold. I glanced at the others. Rhys was frowning, Cassian and Mor were both grimacing, and Azriel … It was pity on his beautiful face. Pity and sorrow as he watched my sister.
• “Pick on someone your own size,” Cassian said to Amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. “I’d feel bad for the mice,” Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain—and no shortage of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.”
CHAPTER 16 - Solstice arrangements & bets on Lucien.
• “Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “I’ve never stayed in this room.” His midnight voice filled the space.”
• “If Lucien shows up,” I corrected. No word about whether he would be joining us. Or remaining in that mausoleum Tamlin called a home. “My money’s on yes,” Cassian said. “Want to make a wager?” “No,” Azriel said, not turning from the window. Cassian sat up, the portrait of outrage. “No?” Azriel tucked in his wings. “Would you want people betting on you?” “You assholes bet on me all the time. I remember the last one you did—you and Mor, making wagers about whether my wings would heal.” I snorted. True.”
• “Azriel remained at the window. “Will Nesta stay here if she comes?”
• “I’d still be surprised if they remember once the storm clears,” Azriel said, turning from the garden window at last.”
CHAPTER 19 - Solstice begins.
• “Beyond the windows, darkness had indeed fallen. The longest night of the year. I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. “I’ve never participated in one of these.”
CHAPTER 20 - Solstice gifts ! :))
• “I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” Silence. Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”
• “Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”
CHAPTER 22 - Elain + Azriel stay up late (3am) reviewing gardening plans.
• “Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.”
ACOSF:
CHAPTER 3 - Nesta + Cassian discuss Azriel’s residence at the House of Wind.
• “Az is in the room two doors down from mine.” They reached the level of her bedroom and he swaggered along the hall. “You probably won’t see him, though.” “He’s here to spy on me?” Her words bounced off the red stone. Cassian said tightly, “He says he’d rather stay up here than at the river house.” That made two of them. “Why?” “I don’t know. He’s Az. He likes his space.”
CHAPTER 19 - Cassian tells Azriel that Nesta & Elain fought.
• “You and Nesta are wanted down there.” “Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.” “It’s about what I discovered. Rhys said he requires you both there.” “It’s bad, then.” Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. Cassian knew it was a lie, but didn’t push it. Az would speak when he was ready, and Cassian would have better success convincing a mountain to move than getting Az to open up.”
CHAPTER 21 - The IC has a meeting about the Trove.
• “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.
CHAPTER 22 - Az & Cassian have a conversation.
• “Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”
• “Do you want a child?” “It doesn’t matter what I want.” Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further. He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.”
CHAPTER 29 - IC discussing the Trove , Amren mentions that Elain should be the one to find it (Azriel does not agree).
• “Amren said, “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.” Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”
CHAPTER 31 - Nesta is worried that the Cauldron will come to take Elain away again.
• “Feyre said, “We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He’d gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern’s camp to save Elain—he knew the risk. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.”
• “She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,” she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.”
CHAPTER 58 - Solstice party.
• “You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.”
• “Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.”
• “Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”
• “Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. “Why did you come if it torments you so much?”
• “Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.”
AZRIEL’S BONUS POV - I could honestly include the majority of his chapter in here, but I’m not going to do that because that would take quite a bit of time...😅
• “Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn’t bought her mate a present. But she’d gotten Azriel one last year - a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he’d done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there. Elain’s large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.”
• “You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...” He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse.”
• “Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn’t stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.
• “The golden necklace seemed ordinary - its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.”
• Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They’d always been prone to vanish when she was around.”
• “Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. Such terrible things that it was sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence. But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.”
• “Yes,” Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”
• “Azriel’s hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain’s mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.”
• “Rhys vanished, and Azriel was left standing before Elain, who still awaited his kiss. His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, “This was a mistake” She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, “I’m sorry”. “You don’t - Don’t apologize,” he managed to say. “Never apologize. It’s I who should...” He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he’d brought to her expression. “Goodnight.”
• “What if the Cauldron was wrong?”
• “Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him. Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.”
P.S. I’ve been working on this for a few hours, and I am so happy that it’s finally completed !! :))) It’s possible that I missed some moments between these two, so if you notice anything missing please tell me so that I can add it to this post ! :))
Este texto se ha podido encontrar en la newsletter de Cassandra.
“Saludos, Tiberius.
Espero que esta carta te encuentre bien en el Escolomántico. En cuanto a mi persona, estoy con un poco de resaca. Fuimos a los clubs de Londres y al final nos dejamos arrastrar a la fiesta de jubilación de Kraig. “¿Quién es Kraig?” te preguntarás. Es una buena pregunta, Tiberius. Y en esta mañana, no tengo la más remota idea. […]”
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We (the fam) commissioned a magical Elriel art based on the iconic theory that Elain will become the High Lady of the Dusk Court & will freeing the 8th Court based on all the foreshadowing! [Insp: 1, 2 , 3 , 4, 5, 6, 7]
So with that in mind please enjoy this dusk court/colours inspired Elriel throne art by the incredible @arospaintbrush on Insta so please click the link and show her the love!! It was a true pleasure speaking to you over weeks and watching it be created over weeks, it was such a fantastic experience and you made this process to easy and fun! ♡
Tenía la intención de poner como dirección “para la casita de campo poliamorosa en la Tierras de las Hadas”, pero luego me di cuenta de que tal vez nunca te llegaría :) Vale, vale, estoy de coña. Te la envío al instituto de Nueva York —Clary dice que te la guardará. Sé que Jules y yo hemos estado de aquí para allá como bolas de ping pong, pero finalmente nos hemos instalado en Londres durante al menos un par de meses, así que puedes –y deberías– escribirme de vuelta al instituto de Londres. Aunque no estoy muy segura de sin tan siquiera tiene una dirección concreta. (Y sí, podría haberte enviado un mensaje de fuego, pero tengo mucho que contarte. Prepárate.)
Bueno, hace un tiempo Jules y yo estábamos en Manaos, Brasil, estudiando el demonio Curupira, cuando nos llamaron del Instituto de Rio. Tenían un mensaje para Julian. Su tía abuela (sí, a la que él estaba visitando cuando viniste por primera vez a Los Ángeles) había muerto. Muy triste. Y luego, ¿te acuerdas de la casa tan bonita en Sussex donde ella vivía? Bueno, se la dejó a un primo del que nadie ha oído hablar, pero le dejó Blackthorn Hall a Julian. La cual es una ruina en Chiswick (como un suburbio de Londres). Así que tuvimos que venir aquí por un codicilo de testamento (ejem, según el diccionario, eso es “un añadido o suplemento que explica, modifica o revoca un testamento o parte de este”). Así que Julian tendrá que arreglarla en menos de cinco años para que sea un lugar donde se pueda vivir o tendrá que donarla a la Clave. Aun así, ya sabes como es Julian. Toma decisiones rápido. Llegamos a Londres a través de un portal un día después de recibir la noticia.
Yo estaba ya lista para comer bizcochitos, beber té, e ir al Ojo de Londres (todo lo que no pude hace la última vez que vine a Londres, ya que estábamos siendo perseguidos por guerreros hada y esas cosas). Pero eso fue antes de coger un taxi del Instituto hacia Chiswick y ver la casa.
Desde fuera parece un museo o una antigua biblioteca —ya sabes, grandes columnas de mármol, unas escaleras enormes, y una cúpula gigante que da la sensación de que debería tener un telescopio en ella. No, es más, parece algo hecho por hadas. O que ha salido de una película de niños. Es uno de esos cuentos de hadas donde un palacio en ruinas duerme durante mil años. Tuvo su punto romántico… durante cinco minutos. Después vimos a la primera rata, mordisqueando la borla de unas cortinas.
Es una mezcla rara de historia interesante, arte viejo y extraño, y completa ruina. Hay cuadros bastante guais de ancestros de los Blackthorn, la mayoría intactos. Julian dice no reconocer la mayoría de las caras. Algunos tienen escrito nombres detrás de los lienzos o en los marcos pero aparte de “Blackthorn”, ninguno de los nombres significa mucho para nosotros. Hay baúles de madera llenos de libros y papeleo antiquísimos, y un terreno cubierto de vegetación precioso que estoy segura alguna vez fueron jardines. Aunque ahora es la versión inglesa de una jungla. Hay un viejo invernadero y como una pequeña estructura hecha de ladrillo que no tenemos ni idea de que puede ser. (¿Un almacén? ¿Una habitación de armas muy pequeña?). Todo en si está hecho un desastre, y la mayor parte de la casa se encuentra inhabitable. Alguien creó un apartamento con cosas más modernas en un ala de la casa, seguramente en los sesenta. (Por cierto, me recuerda a esa tienda vintage de Topanga a la que te llevé. ¿Te acuerdas?). Quien haya vivido aquí ha dejado un armario lleno de todo tipo de ropa vintage además de un tapiz con muchos patrones florales y arte moderno por todas partes. Al menos el piso tiene electricidad, agua corriente y calefacción, pero el resto de la casa definitivamente parece no…
Ya estoy de vuelta. Perdona tuve que parar de escribir un momento. Julian me estaba llamando. Estaba en lo que parecía ser un salón de baile. Aunque bueno, pisó mal y su pie atravesó el suelo. (No del todo, lo que es un alivio. Pero definitivamente hizo un agujero). El salón de baile es grande y está lleno de polvo, pero se nota que hace mucho tiempo tuvo que ser precioso, y muy sofisticado. Tiene estas enormes puertas francesas que se abren hacia balcones de mármol. Aunque la mayoría de los cristales de estas han desaparecido. Una vez hube liberado a Julian del suelo roto me di cuenta de que era mi única oportunidad de hacerle entrar en razón, así que le comenté que esto es un proyecto gigantesco para dos personas que nunca han arreglado una casa; que ya tenemos un sitio perfecto donde vivir. Y que el tiempo es mejor allí.
Jules, siendo Jules, se tomó su tiempo para contestarme, sopesando lo que le había dicho. Luego dijo:
—Si no quieres hacer esto, no tenemos por qué. Tú eres más importante para mí que una casa. Que cualquier casa.
—No es que no quiera hacerlo —dije—. Es que no se ni por dónde empezar.
Julian me explicó con calma que había estado en contacto con algunos constructores hada. ¿Duendes tal vez? Que estarían el próximo lunes para echar un vistazo. Luego me rodeó con sus brazos y dijo:
—Sé que siempre podremos vivir en el instituto de Los Ángeles. Me encanta ese sitio. Pero mientras exista un legado de los Blackthorn, esto es lo único que queda. Estos papeles viejos, cualquier secreto que esconda la casa, son la historia de nuestra familia. Quiero dejarle el legado a Dru y Ty y Tavvy. Quiero darles lo que yo nunca tuve.
Ante eso, ¿Qué le podía decir? Lo entiendo. Tengo a Jem como mi legado histórico viviente. Y Jules no tiene nada parecido. Mientras tanto Aline y Helen dirigen el instituto de Los Ángeles, lo cual puede que no sea siempre, y además, pertenece a la Clave. Por lo que entiendo que no pueda deshacerse de su historia familiar sin ofrecerles una elección sobre el asunto.
Así que le dije:
—Está bien. Veremos qué podemos hacer. Si alguna vez vemos que es demasiado, podemos organizar una gran reunión familiar y que todos voten. Quedarse o no con Blackthorn Hall.
Me levantó y empezó a dar vueltas conmigo en el aire. Luego nos empezamos a besar. Seré piadosa en no contarte los detalles.
Así que he decido tomarme esto como Una Aventura. Es como un sitio arqueológico, y somos historiadores intrépidos. Más tarde veré si puedo convencer a Jules y ponernos un abrigo de tweed y un salacot mientras sorteamos a través de escombros. Porque quien viviese aquí antes tenía mucha cosa. Es una casa grande, y cada habitación tiene muebles con cajoneras y armarios, todos hechos un desastre. Armas llenas de polvo, libros dañados por el agua, pequeñas cajas con más suciedad en ellas, joyas para disfraces, fotos de gente desconocida, tazas de té rotas… Y recuerda que lo hemos visto todo solo con piedras de luz mágica.
En fin. Quería que supieses en que ando y donde hemos estado. Nuestro año de viaje se había terminado de todas maneras, así que esto es una forma de extenderlo y pasar más tiempo juntos. Esa parte la verdad que no me desagrada. Me lo estaba pasando realmente bien preparándome mentalmente para excavar en historia Blackthorn hasta esta mañana.
Sé que he dicho que esta casa parece estar encantada, pero estaba bromeando. En su mayor parte. No soy Kit; no puedo ver fantasmas al menos que ellos quieran que me van, y hasta ahora no me he cruzado con ningún espíritu ectoplasmático con mensajes del más allá. Pero este sitio me da malas vibras. No paro de imaginarme que me doy la vuelta al final de largos pasillos llenos de telarañas, como si esperase ver algo en las sombras. O me imagino que veo algo sobre mi hombro en el espejo. He asumido que eran solo nervios hasta esta mañana, cuando entré en el comedor y vi las palabras “IROS DE AQUÍ” escritas en el polvoriento suelo.
Salté, literalmente. Estaba agarrando a Cortana antes que a mí misma. “No seas ridícula”, pensé. Ese mensaje podría haber sido escrito en cualquier momento, mucho antes de que nosotros llegásemos. Podría haber estado escrito en el polvo durante años, intacto. Aunque sí que tengo que confesar algo. Borré el “IROS DE AQUÍ” con mi pie. No quería que Julian lo viese. Ya se preocupa de por sí. No quería que pasase por la misma sorpresa que yo, y sobre todo por algo tan poco importante.
Me siento mejor contándotelo toda la verdad. Ay querida, Julian me vuelve a llamar. No puedo esperar para ver en qué lugar ha metido su pie esta vez. Te escribiré de nuevo pronto. De mientras, ¡adiós desde Londres![1]
[1] En el texto original dice “pip pip cheerio”, lo cual es una manera de decir adiós en la jerga británica. Emma lo usa de forma cómica para despedirse de Cristina.
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