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



“No—I kept downwind, even for his nose. And if any of his soldiers did, they’re not a problem anymore.” Was the blood on his hands not his own, then? Bryce tried not to sniff it.

“What’d the intel say?” Declan asked, going to the window to scan the street beyond, presumably for anyone who might have followed Cormac.

“The hit on the Spine was successful,” Cormac said, face hard beneath the blood and bruises. “The Asteri’s new mech-suit prototype was attained, along with an invaluable amount of ammunition.”

“Good,” Declan said.

Cormac sighed. “They’re shipping the prototype here.”

Bryce started. “To Lunathion?”

“To the Coronal Islands.” Close enough—two hours away by boat. “To a base on Ydra.”

“Shit,” Dec said. “They’re going to start something here, aren’t they?”

“Yes, likely with Pippa and her Lightfall squadron at the head.”

“Don’t they know she’s nuts?” Bryce asked.

“She’s successful with her ops. That’s all that matters.”

“What about Emile?” Bryce pushed. “Was she successful with him?”

“No. He’s still out there. The agent said the hunt for him continues.”

“So what do we do?” Dec asked Cormac. “Go to Ydra and convince them not to let Pippa have access to all those weapons?”

“Yes.” Cormac nodded to Bryce. “Send an otter to Captain Ketos. And I believe we’re also going to need Hunt Athalar’s expertise.”





42

Bryce was just walking down the shining hallway to Celestina’s office when her phone rang.

Juniper. Bryce sent her to audiomail. A message came through instead. Call back now.

Dread burning like acid through her, Bryce dialed, praying nothing had happened with Fury—

Juniper answered on the first ring. “How dare you?”

Bryce halted. “What?”

“How dare you call Gorgyn?”

“I …” Bryce swallowed. “What happened?”

“I’m principal, that’s what happened!”

“And that’s a bad thing?” She was due to meet with Celestina in one minute. She couldn’t be late.

“It’s a bad thing because everyone knows that Princess Bryce Danaan put in a call and threatened to pull the Autumn King’s donations if CCB didn’t recognize my talent!”

“So what?” Bryce hissed. “Isn’t this the only bit of good that being a princess entails?”

“No! It’s the opposite!” Juniper was absolutely screaming with rage. Bryce started shaking. “I have worked my entire life for this, Bryce! My entire life! And you step in and take that accomplishment away from me! Make yourself—not me, not my talent—into the reason I got this promotion, the reason I made history! You, not me. Not me sticking it out, fighting through it, but my Fae Princess friend, who couldn’t leave well enough alone!”

The clock chimed in the hallway. Bryce had to go. Had to talk to the Archangel.

“Look, I’m about to go into a meeting,” she said as evenly as she could, though she thought she might puke. “But I’ll call you back right after, I promise. I’m so sorry if—”

“Don’t bother,” June snapped.

“Juniper—”

The faun hung up.

Bryce focused on her breathing. She needed one of Kyrah’s dance classes. Immediately. Needed to sweat and breathe and majorly unload and analyze the tornado wreaking havoc inside her. But this meeting … She squared her shoulders, putting away the fight, the fact that she’d fucked everything up, had been so arrogant and stupid and—

She knocked on the door to Celestina’s office. “Enter,” came the sweet female voice.

Bryce smiled at the Governor as if she hadn’t destroyed a friendship moments ago. “Your Grace,” Bryce said, inclining her head.

“Your Highness,” Celestina answered, and Bryce reined in a wince. It was how she’d gotten this meeting, too. She’d asked the Archangel to meet not as Bryce Quinlan, but as a Princess of the Fae. It was an invitation even an Archangel had to agree to.

She wondered how it’d come back to haunt her.

“Just for this meeting,” Bryce said, sitting down. “I’ve come to make a formal request.”

“For the return of Hunt Athalar, I take it.” A tired, sad sort of light gleamed in the Governor’s eyes.

“A temporary return,” Bryce said, and leaned back in her chair. “I know he bailed on you at your party. If I’d been aware he was doing that, I would never have asked him to assist me that night. So—totally feel free to punish him. You have my blessing.”

It was a lie, but Celestina’s lips twitched upward. “How long do you want him for?”

“A night.” To go to the Coronal Islands and back before Pippa Spetsos and her cabal could get there. To convince whoever Command sent not to give Spetsos free rein to unleash those weapons on Valbara. “We figured we’d take the arrow train instead of driving the eight hours each way. I promised my mother I’d bring him home with me. If he doesn’t come, there will be Hel to pay.” Another lie.