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

Hunt went on, “This metal … The Asteri have been researching a way to make the gorsian ore absorb magic, not suppress it.”

Ruhn said, “Seems like ordinary titanium to me.”

“Look closer,” Hunt said. “There are slight purple veins in it. That’s the gorsian stone. I’d know it anywhere.”

“So what can it do?” Bryce asked.

“If I’m right,” Hunt said hoarsely, “it can draw the firstlight from the ground. From all the pipes of it crisscrossing the land. These suits would draw up the firstlight and turn it into weapons. Brimstone missiles, made right there on the spot. The suit would never run out of ammo, never run out of battery life. Simply find the underground power lines, and it’d be charged up and ready to kill. That’s why they’re smaller—because they don’t need all the extra tech and room for the arsenal that the human suits require. A Vanir warrior could climb inside and essentially wear it like an exoskeleton—like armor.”

Silence.

Pippa said, voice full of awe, “Do you know what this would mean for the cause?”

Bryce said dryly, “It means a Hel of a lot more people would die.”

“Not if it’s in our hands,” Pippa said. That light in her eyes—Hunt had seen it before, in the face of Philip Briggs.

Pippa went on, more to herself than to any of them, “We’d at last have a source of magic to unleash on them. Make them understand how we suffer.” She let out a delighted laugh.

Cormac stiffened. So did Tharion.

But Hunt said, “This is a prototype. There might be some kinks to work out.”

“We have excellent engineers,” Pippa said firmly.

Hunt pushed, “This is a death machine.”

“And what is a gun?” Pippa snapped. “Or a sword?” She sneered at the lightning zapping at his fingertips. “What is your magic, angel, but an instrument of death?” Her eyes blazed again. “This suit is simply a variation on a theme.”

Ruhn said to Hunt, “So what’s your take on it? Can Ophion use it?”

“No one should fucking use it,” Hunt growled. “On either side.” He said to Cormac, “And if you’re smart, you’ll tell Command to track down the scientists behind this and destroy them and their plans. The bloodshed on both sides will become monstrous if you’re all using these things.”

“It’s already monstrous,” Cormac said quietly. “I just want it ended.”

But Pippa said, “The Vanir deserve everything that’s coming to them.”

Bryce grinned. “So do you, terrorizing that poor boy and then deciding he’s not worth it.”

“Emile?” Pippa laughed. “He’s not the helpless baby you think he is. He found allies to protect him. By all means, go retrieve him. I doubt he’ll help the Vanir win this war—not now that we have this technology in our hands. Thunderbirds are nothing compared to this.” She ran a hand over the rim of the box.

Tharion cut in, “Where’s the kid?”

Pippa smirked. “Somewhere even you, mer, would fear to tread. I’m content to leave him there, and so is Command. The boy is no longer our priority.”

Bryce seethed, “You’re deluded if you think this suit is anything but a disaster for everyone.”

Pippa crossed her arms. “I don’t see how you have any right to judge. While you’re busy getting your nails painted, Princess, good people are fighting and dying in this war.”

Bryce wiggled her nails at the rebel. “If I’m going to associate with losers like you, I might as well look good doing it.”

Hunt shook his head, cutting off Pippa before she could retort. “We’re talking machines that can make brimstone missiles within seconds and unleash them at short range.” His lightning now sizzled at his hands.

“Yes,” Pippa said, eyes still lit with predatory bloodlust. “No Vanir will stand a chance.” She lifted her attention to the ship above them, and Hunt followed her focus in time to see the crew appearing at the rails. Backs to them.

Five mer, two shifter-types. None in an Ophion uniform. Rebel sympathizers, then, who’d likely volunteered their boat and services to the cause. They raised their hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Hunt growled, just as Pippa lifted her arm in a signal to the human Lightfall squadron standing atop the ship. Herding the Vanir crew to the rails.

Guns cracked.

Blood sprayed, and Hunt flung out a wing, shading Bryce from the mist of red.

The Vanir crumpled, and Ruhn and Cormac began shouting, but Hunt watched, frozen, as the Lightfall squadron on deck approached the fallen crew, pumping their heads full of bullets.

“First round is always a gorsian bullet,” Pippa said mildly in the terrible silence that followed as the Lightfall soldiers drew long knives and began severing heads from necks. “To get the Vanir down. The rest are lead. The beheading makes it permanent.”

“Are you fucking insane?” Hunt burst out, just as Tharion spat, “You’re a murdering psycho.”

But Cormac snarled at Pippa, getting in her face, blocking Tharion’s direct path. “I was told the crew would be unharmed. They helped us out of their belief in the cause.”

She said flatly, “They’re Vanir.”