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

“It can’t be romantic?” Hunt demanded.

Bryce huffed. “I’m an independent female.”

“All right,” Hunt said, laughing softly. “Let’s just say that I’m like some magic token in a video game and when you … use me, you level up.”

“That is the dorkiest thing you’ve ever said,” Bryce accused, and Hunt sketched a bow.

“So Hunt’s magic is the key to Bryce’s?” Ruhn asked Cormac.

“I don’t know if it’s Hunt specifically, or simply energy,” Cormac said. “Your power came from the Gates—it’s something we don’t understand. It’s playing by unknown rules.”

“Great,” Bryce muttered, sinking into the chair beside Ruhn’s near the window. Black, eternal water spread beyond.

Hunt rubbed his jaw, frowning. “The Prince of the Pit told me about this.”

Bryce’s brow scrunched. “Sex teleporting?”

Hunt snorted. “No. He told me that you and I hadn’t … explored what our powers could do. Together.”

Ruhn said, “You think this is what he had in mind?”

“I don’t know,” Hunt admitted, marking the gleam of worry on Bryce’s face. They still had a lot to talk about.

“Is it wise,” Tharion drawled, “to do as he says?”

“I think we should wait to see if our theory is correct,” Bryce said. “See if it really was our powers … merging.” She asked Hunt, “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he said. “I think I kept a kernel of your power in me for a while, but it’s gone quiet.”

She smiled slightly. “We definitely need to do more research.”

“You just want to bang Athalar again,” Tharion countered.

Bryce inclined her head. “I thought that was a given.”

Hunt stalked toward her, fully intending to drag her to some quiet room to test out the theory. But the door to the room slid open, and Commander Sendes appeared. Her face was grim.

Hunt braced himself. The Asteri had found them. The Omegas were about to attack—

But her gaze fell on Cormac. She said quietly, “The medwitch told me that in your delirium, you were talking about someone named Sofie Renast. That name is known to us here—we’ve heard of her work for years now. But I thought you should know that we were summoned to rescue an agent from the North Sea weeks ago. It wasn’t until we reached her that we realized it was Sofie.”

The room went utterly silent. Cormac’s swallow was audible as Sendes went on, “We were too late. Sofie had drowned by the time our divers picked her up.”





47

The morgue was cold and quiet and empty, save for the female corpse lying on the chrome table, covered by a black cloth.

Bryce stood by the doorway as Cormac knelt beside the body, preserved by a medwitch until the ship could hand Sofie over to the Ophion rebels for claiming. The prince was silent.

He’d been this way since Sendes had come to his room.

And though Bryce’s body still buzzed with all she and Hunt had done, seeing that slender female body on the table, the prince kneeling, head bowed … Her eyes stung. Hunt’s fingers found hers and squeezed.

“I knew,” Cormac said roughly. His first words in minutes. “I think I always knew, but …”

Ruhn stepped to his cousin’s side. Put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Cormac leaned his brow against the rim of the examination table. His voice shook. “She was good, and brave, and kind. I never deserved her, not for one minute.”

Bryce’s throat ached. She let go of Hunt’s hand to approach Cormac, touching his other shoulder. Where would Sofie’s soul go? Did it linger near her body until they could give her a proper Sailing? If she went to one of the resting places, they’d be dooming her to a terrible fate.

But Bryce didn’t say any of that. Not as Cormac slid his fingers beneath the black cloth and pulled out a blue-tinged, stiff hand. He clasped it in his own, kissing the dead fingers. His shoulders began to shake as his tears flowed.

“We met during a recon report to Command,” Cormac said, voice breaking. “And I knew it was foolish, and reckless, but I had to speak to her after the meeting was over. To learn everything I could about her.” He kissed Sofie’s hand again, closing his eyes. “I should have gone back for her that night.”

Tharion, who’d been poring over the coroner’s files on Sofie at the desk by the far wall, said gently, “I’m sorry if I gave you false hope.”

“It kept her alive in my heart a little longer,” Cormac said, swallowing back his tears. He pressed her stiff hand against his brow. “My Sofie.”

Ruhn squeezed his shoulder.

Tharion asked carefully, “Do you know what this means, Cormac?” He rattled off a series of numbers and letters.

Cormac lifted his head. “No.”

Tharion held up a photo. “They were carved on her upper biceps. The coroner thinks she did it while she drowned, with some sort of pin or knife she might have had hidden on her.”

Cormac shot to his feet, and Bryce stepped into Hunt’s awaiting arms as the Fae Prince folded back the sheet. Nothing on the right arm he’d held, but the left—