House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City #3) by Sarah J. Maas

“No,” Sathia said. “The rumor is that the magic of the mists is so old, it predates even the Asteri’s arrival.”

“Well,” Tharion said, gesturing dramatically, “ladies first, Legs.”

“Such chivalry,” Bryce retorted.

“You’re the one with a built-in flashlight,” Hunt reminded her.

She rolled her eyes and said to a wary Sathia, “Word of advice: don’t let them push you around.”

“I won’t,” Sathia said. For some reason, Hunt believed her.

Bryce was looking at Flynn’s sister as if she was thinking the same thing. “It’s good to have another female around here.” She nodded to Baxian, Tharion, and Hunt. “The Alphahole Club was getting too crowded for my liking.”

Bryce halted at the line between light and shadow. The mist trickling along the cave floor reached for her pink sneakers with white, curving claws. Her starlight didn’t pierce the darkness beyond a few feet ahead. It only illuminated a thicker cloud of mist. Masking any threats waiting beyond.

She couldn’t bring herself to cross that line.

“This place feels wrong,” Baxian murmured, coming up beside Bryce.

“Here’s hoping we see daylight again,” Tharion said with equal quiet from a step behind them.

“We will,” Hunt said, adjusting the heavy pack strapped between his wings. “Nothing to worry about except some ghouls. And wraiths. And ‘scary shit,’ Ruhn claimed.”

“Oh, just that,” Bryce said, throwing him a wry glance. She added to Sathia, pointing to the spires barely poking over the green horizon, “It’s not too late to head back to the castle.”

“I’m not going to sit around with those mind-reading bastards lurking about,” Sathia hissed.

They all turned toward her.

“Did something … happen?” Hunt asked carefully. Tharion was watching her closely.

“I’m not going to be left alone in that castle,” Sathia insisted, wrapping her arms around herself, fingers digging into her white sweater, and Bryce knew she didn’t want to discuss it further.

“Fair enough,” Hunt said, reading Sathia’s tone, too. “But Ruhn warned me that most of what’s in here is old, and wicked, and likes to drink blood. And eat souls. I’m not sure of the order, though.”

“Sounds like your run-of-the-mill Fae nobility, then,” Bryce said, hefting her heavy pack higher. She winked at Sathia. “You’ll be right at home.”

The Fae female gave her a watery smile, but to her credit, didn’t run screaming from the cave and its grasping, misty fingers. If Sathia did indeed prefer to face what lurked in this cave over the Murder Twins, maybe Bryce owed it to her and females everywhere to kick some ass when they got back.

If they got back.

“Right,” Hunt said. “According to Declan, Pelias’s tomb and the Starsword’s resting place lie right in the center of the cave network.” They’d swiped food and water from the surprised-looking kitchen staff, preparing for a few days’ journey. “But there are lots of things that will try to eat us along the way.”

Bryce ignored the twisting in her stomach. She’d gone to another world, she’d faced an Asteri—she could deal with a few ghouls and wraiths. She had three badasses with her. Plus Sathia. She could do this.

Bryce faced the others and held out her hand at waist level. “Go Team Caves on three?”

They all looked at her, but didn’t cover her hand with theirs. Not even Hunt, the bastard. After the way they’d fucked last night, the least he could do was indulge her with some team spirit. But he gave her a look, as if to say, Gravitas, Quinlan.

Fuck that. She lifted her hand in the air and shouted, “Gooooo Team Caves!”

The words echoed off the boulders, down the passage, and into the misty darkness beyond. Where they suddenly cut off, as if the caves themselves had devoured them.

“That’s not creepy at all,” Hunt murmured.

“Totally normal,” Baxian agreed.

“Don’t worry,” Bryce crooned. “I’ll protect you from the scary cave.” And with that, she strode into the dark.



* * *



Morven cornered Ruhn outside the dining hall just before he and his friends left for the archives again after breakfast.

“A word,” Morven said, hooking a finger toward him. The mass of shadows from the day before was gone, but the crown of them remained floating atop his head.

“Here I was,” Ruhn drawled, nodding at Flynn and Dec to keep going down the hall, “thinking I didn’t exist to you.”

Morven leveled a cold look at him—it made Ruhn’s father seem downright cheerful. But Ruhn noticed that the king waited to speak until Lidia had walked past, out the door, not sparing a glance for either of them.

“What are your sister’s intentions in coming here?”

“Bryce told you,” Ruhn said tightly. “She wants information.”

“On what?”

“The sword and knife, for one thing. The rest is classified.” Asshole, he didn’t need to add.

Morven’s eyes darkened to blackest night. “And does she plan to claim Avallen for herself?”

Ruhn burst out laughing. “What? No. If she did, I wouldn’t tell you, but trust me: this place …” He surveyed the dark, crypt-like hall. “This isn’t her style. Just ask my father.”