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

“And why the fuck would I ever agree to work with you?” Beyond the threat of Cormac telling his father about his talents.

The mind-speaking was a rare gift of the Avallen Fae, inherited from his mother’s bloodline, and had always come naturally to him. He’d been four the first time he’d done it—he’d asked his mother for a sandwich. She’d screamed when she’d heard him in her mind, and in that moment, he’d known that the gift was something to hide, to keep secret. When she’d rubbed her head, clearly wondering if she’d imagined things, he’d kept quiet. And made sure she had no reason to bring him to his father, who he knew, even then, would have questioned and examined him and never let him go. Ruhn hadn’t made that mistake again.

He wouldn’t let his father control this piece of him, too. And even if Cormac had sworn he wouldn’t reveal it … he’d be stupid to believe his cousin.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Cormac said. “I’ve seen those death camps. Seen what’s left of the people who survive. The children who survive. It can’t be allowed to go on.”

Ruhn said, “The prison camps are nothing new. Why act now?”

“Because Daybright came along and started feeding us vital information that has led to successful strikes on supply lines, missions, encampments. Now that we have someone in the upper echelons of the Asteri’s rule, it changes everything. The information Daybright would pass to you can save thousands of lives.”

“And take them,” Ruhn said darkly. “Did you tell Command about me?”

“No,” Cormac said earnestly. “I only mentioned that I had a contact in Lunathion who might be useful in reestablishing our connection with Daybright, and was sent here.”

Ruhn couldn’t fault him for trying. While he couldn’t read thoughts or invade people’s unguarded minds as some of his cousins could, he’d learned that he could talk to people on a sort of psychic bridge, as if his mind had formed it brick by brick between souls. It was perfect for a spy network.

But Ruhn asked, “And it was coincidence that it happened to line up with Emile coming here, too?”

A slight smile. “Two birds, one stone. I needed a reason to be here, to cover for my hunt for him. Seeking out your gifts offered that to Ophion. As does my engagement to your sister.”

Ruhn frowned. “So you’re asking me to what—help out this one time? Or for the rest of my fucking life?”

“I’m asking you, Ruhn, to pick up where Sofie left off. How long you decide to work with us is up to you. But right now, Ophion is desperate for Daybright’s information. People’s lives depend on it. Daybright has alerted us three times now before an imperial attack on one of our bases. Those warnings saved thousands of lives. We need you for the next few months—or at least until we’ve attained the intel that Sofie knew.”

“I don’t see how I have any choice but to say yes.”

“I told you—I won’t tell your father. I just needed to get you here. To get you to listen. I wouldn’t ask this of you unless it was necessary.”

“How’d you even get caught up in all this rebel business?” Cormac’s life had been pretty cushy, as far as Ruhn could tell. But he supposed that to an outsider, his own life looked the same.

Cormac weighed the cue in his hands. “It’s a long story. I linked up with them about four years ago.”

“And what’s your title with Ophion, exactly?”

“Field agent. Technically, I’m a field commander of the northwestern Pangeran spy network.” He exhaled slowly. “Sofie was one of my agents.”

“But now you’re trying to keep Emile away from Ophion? Having doubts about the cause?”

“Never about the cause,” Cormac said quietly. “Only about the people in it. After the heavy hits to the bases this year, Ophion has about ten thousand members left, controlled by a team of twenty in Command. Most of them are humans, but some are Vanir. Any Vanir affiliated with Ophion, Command or not, are sworn to secrecy, perhaps to stricter standards than the humans.”

Ruhn angled his head and asked baldly, “How do you know you can trust me?”

“Because your sister put a bullet through the head of an Archangel and you’ve all kept quiet about it.”

Ruhn nodded toward a pocket, but missed his final shot. Yet he said calmly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cormac laughed softly. “Really? My father’s spies learned of it before the Asteri shut the information down.”

“Then why treat her like some party girl?”

“Because she went back to partying after what happened last spring.”

“So did I.” But they were getting off topic. “What do you know about Agent Daybright?”

“As much as you do.” Cormac’s ball went wide by an embarrassing margin.

“How do I make contact? And what’s the process after I receive information?”

“You pass it to me. I know where to send it in Command.”

“And again, I’m supposed to simply … trust you.”

“I’ve trusted you with information that could land me in the Asteri’s cells.”

Not just any prison. For this kind of thing, for someone of Cormac’s rank—Ruhn’s rank—it’d be the notorious dungeons beneath the Asteri’s crystal palace. A place so awful, so brutal, that rumor claimed there were no cameras. No record, no proof of atrocities. Except for rare witnesses and survivors like Athalar.