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

Lidia gestured to the catalog behind them. “Maybe the answer’s in there somewhere.”

Ruhn nodded. Even as he wondered if they’d be ready for whatever that answer might be.



* * *



Bryce stood with Baxian on the bank of a second river, surveying the path on its distant side, her star glowing dimly toward it. The river passageway was narrow enough that she would have to teleport them across. She kept her starlight blazing bright, the ghouls a whispering malice around them.

There had been nothing helpful in the carvings so far. Fae slaying dragons, Fae dancing in circles, Fae basking in their own glory. Nothing of use. All surface-level shit. Bryce ground her teeth.

“Danika was the same, you know,” Baxian said quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “With the wolves. She hated what so many of them were, and wanted to understand how they had become that way.”

Bryce turned toward him, her starlight flaring a bit brighter as it illuminated the downward sweep of the river. It dimmed as she faced the Helhound fully. “The wolves are by and large way better than the Fae.”

“Maybe.” Baxian glanced to her. “But what of your brother? Or Flynn and Declan?” A nod to where Sathia, Tharion, and Hunt sat together. “What of her? Do you think they’re all a lost cause?”

“No,” Bryce admitted. Baxian waited. She let out a long breath. “And the Fae I met in the other world weren’t so bad, either. I might have even been friends with them if circumstances had been different.”

“So the Fae aren’t inherently bad.”

“Of course not,” Bryce hissed. “But most of the ones in this world—”

“You know every Fae on Midgard?”

“I can judge them by their collective actions,” Bryce snapped. “How they locked people out during the attack—”

“Yeah, that was fucked up. But until Holstrom defied orders, the wolves weren’t helping, either.”

“What’s your point?”

“That the right leader makes all the difference.”

Bryce recoiled at the words: the right leader. Baxian went on, “The Valbaran Fae might not be the most charitable people in our world, but think about who’s led them for the last five hundred years. And long before that. Same with the wolves. The Prime isn’t bad, but he’s only one decent guy in a string of brutal leaders. Danika was working to change that, and she was killed for it.”

“Rigelus told me they killed her to keep the information about their true nature contained,” Bryce said.

Baxian cut her a look. “And you believe everything Rigelus says? Besides, why can’t it be both? They wanted to keep their secrets to themselves, yes, but also to destroy the kernel of hope Danika offered. Not only to the wolves, but all of Midgard. That things could be different. Better.”

Bryce massaged her aching chest, the starlight unusually dim. “They definitely would have killed her for that, too.”

Baxian’s face tightened with pain. “Then make her death count for something, Bryce.”

He might as well have punched her in the face. “And what,” she demanded, “try to redeem the Fae? Get them some self-help books and make them sit in circles to talk about their feelings?”

His face was like stone. “If you think that would be effective, sure.”

Bryce glowered. But she loosed a long breath. “If we survive this shit with the Asteri, I’ll think about it.”

“They might go hand in hand,” he said.

“If you start spewing some bullshit about rallying a Fae army to take on the Asteri—”

“No. This isn’t some epic movie.” He cocked his head. “But if you think you could manage—”

Bryce, despite herself, laughed. “Sure. I’ll add it to my to-do list.”

Baxian smiled slightly. “I just wanted you to know that Danika was thinking about a lot of the same things.”

“I wish she’d talked to me about it.” Bryce sighed. “About a lot of stuff.”

“She wanted to,” he said gently. “And I think putting that Horn in your back was her way of perhaps … manipulating you onto a similar path.”

“Typical Danika.”

“She saw it in you—what you could mean for the Fae.” His voice grew unbearably sad. “She was good about seeing that kind of thing in people.”

Bryce touched his arm. “I’m glad she had you to talk to. I really am.”

He gave her a sorrowful smile. “I’m glad she had you, too. I couldn’t be there with her, couldn’t leave Sandriel, and I’m so fucking grateful that she had someone there who loved her unconditionally.”

Bryce’s throat closed up. She might have offered some platitude about them reuniting in the afterlife, but … the afterlife was a sham. And Danika’s soul was already gone.

“Guys,” Hunt said from where he and the others had risen to their feet. “We need to keep going.”

“Why?” Bryce asked, walking over. Her starlight dimmed, as if telling her she was headed in the wrong direction. I know, she told it silently.

“We shouldn’t linger, even with the Magical Starborn Princess watching over us,” Tharion said, winking. “I think it’s getting too tempting for the ghouls.” He jerked his head toward the writhing mass of shadows barely visible within the mists. Their hissing had risen to such a level that it reverberated against her bones.