House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2) by Sarah J. Maas

The Astronomer panted in the darkness. Buttons clacked hollowly. “Their respirators—”

Bryce yanked out her phone and fumbled for its light. It was dead. Another curse from Tharion, and she knew his was, too. Every muscle and tendon in her body went taut.

Shimmering, golden light glowed from the Astronomer’s upraised hand. The fire sprites trapped in his rings simmered steadily.

Apparently, it was all Ithan needed to see by as he launched himself over the rail and aimed for the male’s iced-over tub. He landed gracefully, balancing his feet on either side. A pound of his fist had the ice cracking.

The male was convulsing, no doubt drowning without a functioning respirator. Ithan hauled him up, ripping the mask from his face. A long feeding tube followed. The male gagged and spasmed, but Ithan propped him over the rim, lest he slide back under.

Leaping with that athletic grace, Ithan reached the tub in the middle, freeing the mystic within. Then on to the female in the third.

The Astronomer was shrieking, but it seemed Ithan barely heard the words. The three mystics shook, soft cries trembling from their blue mouths. Bryce shook with them, and Tharion put a hand on her back.

Something groaned below, and the lights sputtered back on. Metal whined. The floor began to rise, pulling toward the tubs again. The sun fixture descended from the ceiling as the Astronomer hobbled down the walkway, cursing.

“You had no right to pull them out, no right—”

“They would have drowned!” Bryce launched into motion, storming after the male. Tharion stalked a step behind her.

The female stirred as the slate floor locked into place around the tubs. On reed-thin arms, she raised up her chest, blinking blearily at Ithan, then the room.

“Back,” the mystic wheezed, her voice broken and raspy. Unused for years. Her dark eyes filled with pleading. “Send me back.”

“The Prince of the Ravine was about to rip apart your friend’s soul,” Ithan said, kneeling before her.

“Send me back!” she screamed, the words barely more than a hoarse screech. “Back!”

Not to Hel, Bryce knew—not to the Prince of the Ravine. But into the watery, weightless existence. Ithan got to his feet, inching away.

“Get out,” the Astronomer seethed, hurrying toward his mystics. “All of you.”

Bryce reached the bottom of the ramp, the Astronomer’s still-glowing rings blazing bright. Fury boiled in her chest. “You would have sacrificed them—”

“BACK!” the female screamed again. The other two mystics stirred to consciousness, moaning. Bryce reached Ithan’s side and looped her arm through his, pulling him toward the doors. The wolf gaped at the mystics, the mess they’d made.

The Astronomer knelt by the female, reaching for the tubes that Ithan had ripped free. “They cannot exist in this world anymore. Do not want to exist in this world.” He glared at her, cold fire in his pale gray eyes.

Bryce opened her mouth, but Tharion shook his head, already heading to the exit. “Sorry for the trouble,” he said over a broad shoulder.

“Send me back,” the female whimpered to the Astronomer.

Bryce tried to hustle Ithan along, but the wolf gazed at the female, at the old male. His muscles tensed, like he might very well throw the Astronomer off the girl and haul her away.

“Soon,” the old male promised, stroking the young woman’s wet hair. “You’ll be drifting again soon, my lamb.” Each of his rings glimmered, projecting rays around the mystic’s head like a corona.

Bryce stopped tugging on Ithan’s arm. Stopped moving as she saw the pleading little hands pushing against the glass orbs on the Astronomer’s fingers.

Do something. Be something.

But what could she do? What authority did she have to free the sprites? What power could she wield beyond blinding him and snatching the rings off his fingers? She’d make it a block before the Aux or 33rd were called in, and then she’d have a fucking mess on her hands. And if Hunt was the one called to apprehend her … She knew he’d back her in an instant, but he also answered to the law. She couldn’t make him choose. Not to mention that they couldn’t afford the scrutiny right now. In so many ways.

So Bryce turned, hating herself, towing Ithan along. He didn’t fight her this time. The Astronomer was still murmuring to his charges when Ithan shut the heavy doors behind them.

The street seemed unchanged in the light summer rain that had started. Tharion’s face was haunted. “You were right,” he admitted. “It was a bad idea.”

Bryce opened and closed her fingers into fists. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Tharion threw her a mocking grin. “You’re in the gray with us, Legs. Don’t get boring now that you’ve got a fancy crown.”

A low growl slipped from her throat. “I always wondered why the River Queen made you her Captain of Intelligence. Now I know.”

“What does that mean?” Tharion advanced a step, towering over her.

Like Hel would she back down. “It means that you pretend to be Mr. Charming, but you’re just a ruthless backstabber who will do anything to achieve his ends.”

His face hardened. Became someone she didn’t know. Became the sort of mer that people wisely stayed away from. “Try having your family at the mercy of the River Queen and then come cry to me about morals.” His voice had dropped dangerously low.