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

“Trust me, I know better than you guys what the Asteri can do.”

“Then you have even less of an excuse for your actions,” Nesta snapped. Her sword rose.

Azriel extended a scarred hand to Bryce, panting hard. “Open the passage out of here. You’re coming back with us. Right now.”

To that cell under a different mountain. Where she had no doubt she’d be subjected to the interrogation Vesperus should have received.

Bryce snorted. “Like Hel I am.” Debris began floating around her. “You killed the one person here who might have given me the answer I needed.”

“You’re looking for ways to kill the Daglan. Well, I just killed that monster,” Nesta said. “Isn’t that answer enough?”

“No,” Bryce said. “You’ve only left me with more questions.”

She let her power flow outward from the star in her chest. From the Horn in her back.

“Don’t you dare,” Azriel warned with lethal softness.

But Bryce shoved out a slice of her power. Sharp and targeted, as Silene had used to carve the stones. As Azriel had focused his own power on her star earlier.

Light cut through stone and sizzled, a line literally drawn at Azriel’s feet.

Whatever had changed in her power with the addition of Silene’s magic … Fuck yeah. This would be useful.

“I won’t tell them about you,” Bryce said coolly, even as part of her marveled at the laser she’d created out of pure magic. The other part of her cringed from it—from the power that was eerily similar to what Rigelus had used against her before she jumped through the Gate in the Eternal Palace. “I swear it on my mate’s life. Even if Rigelus …” She shook her head. “I won’t breathe a word to them about this place.”

Azriel dared to put one foot over the line she’d blasted into the floor. “They’ll pry it from you. People like me, like them … we always get the information we need.” His gaze darkened with the promise of unending pain.

“I won’t let it come to that,” Bryce said, and sent her power searing through her star again—right into the crystal sarcophagus.

Crystal like the Gate that had opened the way to this world.

The sarcophagus glowed … and then darkened into a pit.

“Please,” Azriel said, his gaze now on her hands. On the Starsword—and on Truth-Teller. Something like panic filled his hazel eyes.

Shaking her head, Bryce backed toward the hole she’d made in the world. In the universe. She could only pray it would lead her to Midgard.

She met Nesta’s stare. Raging silver fire flickered there.

“You’re as much of a monster as they are,” Nesta accused.

Bryce knew. She’d always known. “Love will do that to you.”

Silver flames roared for her in a tidal wave, but Bryce was already leaping, sheathing the blades as she moved. Cold like nothing she’d known tore past her head, her spine—

And then the light from Nesta’s silver flame winked out as the gate shut above Bryce, nothing but darkness surrounding her as she plunged deeper and deeper into the pit.

Toward home.





PART II


THE SEARCH





28


Hours after Pollux and the Hawk had left with Rigelus, Hunt was no closer to knowing who they would select to die. His bet was on Baxian, but there was a good chance Pollux would realize that killing Ruhn would devastate Bryce. If Bryce ever got back home to learn of it.

He’d been surprised and disturbed to stir from unconsciousness to find a familiar, growing weight at his back. A glance to Baxian had shown him the source: their wings were somehow regrowing at rapid speed, despite the gorsian shackles. Someone had to have given them something to orchestrate the healing—though it couldn’t mean anything good.

He wondered if their captors had realized that the relentless itching would be a torment as awful as the whips and brands. Gritting his teeth against it, Hunt writhed, arching his spine, as if it’d help ease the merciless sensation. He’d give anything, anything, for one scratch—

“Orion.” Aidas’s voice sounded in his head, in the chamber. A cat with eyes like blue opals crouched on the floor, amid the blood and waste. The same form Rigelus had used to deceive Hunt months ago.

“Aidas … or Rigelus?” Hunt groaned.

Aidas was smart enough to get it—Hunt needed proof. The demon prince said, “Miss Quinlan first met me on a park bench outside of the Oracle’s Temple when she was thirteen. I asked her what blinds an Oracle.”

The real thing, then. Not some trick of the Asteri.

“Bryce,” Hunt moaned.

“I’m looking for her,” Aidas said. Hunt could have sworn the cat looked sad.

“What does Rigelus want from my lightning?”

Aidas’s tail swished. “So that’s why he’s working so hard to break you.”

“He threatened to kill one of them if I didn’t give some to him.” A nod to Ruhn and Baxian.

Aidas bristled. “You mustn’t do so, Athalar.”

“Too late. He harvested it into a crystal like firstlight. And the fucker’s going to kill one of them anyway.”

Aidas’s blue eyes filled with worry, but the prince said nothing.