The Ocean Queen didn’t take her eyes from Bryce’s as she said, “Yes. Use the Horn, allow as many through as you can, and then seal the way forever.”

  Horror twisted through her. “And what—abandon the rest here? To be slaves and feeding troughs for the Asteri?” She’d be no better than Silene.

  The Ocean Queen asked, “Isn’t it better for some to be free, than for all to be dead?”

  Hunt let out a low laugh, stepping closer to Bryce’s side as he said to the Ocean Queen, “You can’t mean that. Who the fuck would even get chosen to come? Your people? Our families? In what universe is that fair?”

  Seated at the conference table, Baxian nodded his agreement, but Tharion kept still as stone. Maybe he didn’t want to attract the queen’s attention or ire once more. Spineless asshole. But Bryce squashed her distaste. She needed all the allies she could get.

  “I do not say it is fair,” the Ocean Queen said, stroking the sea krait on her wrist. “But it might be what is necessary.”

  Bryce swallowed the dryness in her mouth. “I came back here to help everyone, not to abandon them to the mercy of the Asteri.”

  “Perhaps Urd sent you to that other world to establish a safe harbor. Have you considered that?”

  Bryce exploded, “What was all this for, then? The stealth, the ships, the Ophion contacts? What the fuck was it for if you just want to run away from the Asteri in the end?”

  Eyes blacker than the Melinoë Trench pinned her to the spot. “Do not dare question my dedication, girl. I have fought and sacrificed for this world when no one else would. Once, my kingdom was vaster than you can imagine—but the Asteri came, and entire islands withered into the sea in despair, taking the very heart of this world with it. The very heart of the mer, too. If there is anyone who understands how futile it is to stand against the Asteri, it is I.”

  Bryce’s breath caught in her throat. “Wait—you were here before the Asteri? The mer were here? I thought only humans lived on Midgard then.”

  The Ocean Queen’s face became distant with memory. “They had the land—we had the seas. Our people met only occasionally, the root of the humans’ legends about the mer.” A wistful smile, then her eyes again focused on Bryce, sharp and calculating. “But yes, we have always been here. Midgard has always had magic, as all nature has inherent magic. The Asteri just did not deign to recognize it.”

  Bryce filed away the information. “Fine—you win the award for longest-suffering people on Midgard. That doesn’t entitle you to jump to the front of the Evacuate Midgard line.” Hunt touched her shoulder lightly, a gentle warning. But Bryce ignored him and laid her hands flat on the table, leaning over it to breathe in the Ocean Queen’s face. “I refuse to open a gate like that. I won’t help you condemn the majority of Midgard’s people while a select few dance off into the sunset.”

  The sea krait on the Ocean Queen’s wrist hissed at Bryce. Even as its mistress’s face remained as cold as the ice floes of the north. “You will come around to the idea when your friends and loved ones start dying around you.”

  “Don’t you dare condescend to her,” Hunt growled at the queen.

  Sendes cleared her throat, trying to bail them out of this clusterfuck, but all Bryce could hear was a roaring in her ears, all she could see was a blinding white creeping over her vision—

  “You’re a coward,” Bryce spat at the Ocean Queen. “You hide behind your power, but you’re a coward.”

  The ship shuddered, as if the very sea tensed with rage.

  But the Ocean Queen said, “Against my better instincts, I will deposit you and yours in Avallen, as requested. Consider that my last gift.”

  Bryce ground her teeth so hard her jaw hurt.

  “But when you fail in whatever uprising you think you can muster,” the Ocean Queen said by way of dismissal, striding for the door, leaving a trail of water in her wake, “when you realize that I am right and fleeing is the best option, I ask only this in exchange for my services: take as many of my people as you can.”

  42

  Bryce couldn’t help but be impressed that Hunt, Tharion, and Baxian held their shit together until they got back to a cabin barely big enough to fit all of them, let alone so many egos. She certainly had a Hel of a time with it.

  But as soon as the door shut, absolute chaos erupted.

  “What the fuck—” Hunt exploded.

  “Are you all right—” she started.

  “The home world of the Fae?” Tharion demanded at the same time Baxian chuckled, “That was epic.”

  Tharion sank onto one of the bunks, his normally tan skin pale. “Only you would tangle with the Ocean Queen, Legs.”

  Baxian said to the mer, “Confined to the ship, huh?”

  Tharion winced. “I’m fucked.”

  Bryce turned to Hunt, who was leaning against the door he’d shut. She arched her brows at her mate, at his too-calm expression. She knew that look. He was no doubt debating how soon he could kick everyone out and fuck her senseless.

  Her toes curled in her sneakers, and she gave him a wink. Hunt rolled his eyes, a corner of his mouth kicking up despite himself.

  She hadn’t failed to see that glimmer of darkness in his gaze, though. Whatever had happened to him while she’d been gone, it had left a mark on the inside, too.

  But they’d talk about it later. Bryce asked, “Where’s Ruhn?”

  “With Lidia,” Hunt said quietly.

  “Lidia?”

  Baxian nodded, sitting beside Tharion, his black wings gleaming like raven feathers. “Yeah. She got us all out. She’s, uh … a bit worse for wear. Ruhn’s been watching over her.”

  Bryce’s chest tightened. “Will she—”

  Before Bryce could finish, the door blasted open. Hunt’s lightning was an instant crackling wall in front of her.

  But Bryce let out a low sound of joy when she saw Ruhn panting in the doorway, her brother’s eyes wide with shock.

  Then they were hugging and laughing, and such joy poured from her that her starlight glowed brightly, casting stark shadows in the cramped room. “Bryce,” he said, grinning, and the pride in his voice had her throat closing up. She grabbed his hand, unable to come up with the words, but then she saw his arms.

  His tattoos were in ribbons. Like his skin had been split open so deep—

  Her starlight winked out. “Ruhn,” she breathed.

  “All in one piece,” Ruhn said, and glanced to Baxian. “Again.”

  “I don’t want to know what that look means,” Bryce said as Baxian winced apologetically.

  “You really don’t,” Hunt said, sliding an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to the bunk opposite where Baxian and Tharion rested. He sat close enough that his thigh pressed into hers, and went so far as to drape a wing over her. Like he’d never let her out of his sight again.

  She breathed in his scent, his warmth, over and over again. The most wonderful things in the universe.

  Ruhn blinked at Bryce, as if not convinced she was really there. “I’m not hallucinating, right?” he asked.

  “No.” Bryce patted the bed beside her.

  But Ruhn lingered by the door, his face grim. “It kills me to say this, but I can’t stay long.”

  “What happened?” Baxian asked.

  “Lidia woke up,” Ruhn said. “And, ah … she had some surprises to share.”

  * * *

  “So,” Hunt said to Ruhn in the stunned quiet five minutes later. “Your girlfriend has … kids.”

  Bryce’s mind reeled from all her brother had said.

  Ruhn only lifted baleful eyes to Hunt. All right: no teasing. She let out a low whistle. “How the Hel did Lidia hide it? When did she even have these kids?”

  Baxian said ominously, “I think the better question is whether they’re Pollux’s.”

  “They didn’t have wings,” Ruhn said tensely. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “She’s all right, though?” Bryce asked. She owed the female everything. Everything. If there was anything she could do to help her—

  “She’s sleeping again,” Ruhn said. “I think the run upstairs drained her.”

  “Adrenaline fueled it, probably,” Tharion mused.

  Ruhn’s eyes went hazy, worried, so Bryce supposed Hunt did him a favor when he changed the subject. He turned to her. “Okay, let’s hear it. How the fuck did you get onto this ship? How did you find us?”

  To distract Ruhn, she could play along. “I told you: I teleported.” She met Hunt’s eyes, registering the love and pain there, and said quietly, “You’re my home, Hunt. Our love spans across stars and worlds, remember?” She smiled slightly. “I’ll always find you.”

  His throat worked, no doubt recalling that he’d said those same words to her before she’d jumped through the Gate in the Eternal Palace. But he dropped her stare like he couldn’t bear it, and asked, “Where did you teleport from?”

  Fine, then. She’d give him some space to sort out his shit. “From dear old Dad’s house. Where he thought he was keeping me hostage.”

  “He thought?” Ruhn demanded.

  Bryce shrugged.

  Hunt threw her a bone this time. “Can you explain what you said to the Ocean Queen in there? About the parasites in the water and the Asteri?”

  “What else is there to say? They infected the waters of Midgard with it. It’s in all of us. It forces us to make the Drop, otherwise it sucks away our power.”

  “Excuse me?” Ruhn blurted.

  Bryce sighed. And explained it again.

  All of it, this time—from the start. Arriving in the other world, being held in the dungeon. Escaping and traveling the tunnels with Azriel and Nesta. Then what she’d learned in that secret chamber: of the world of the Fae, of the Daglan, of Theia and Fionn and Pelias, of Silene and Helena, of Hel’s assistance. Of claiming Silene’s power, and how her own starlight now felt different. Then the encounter with Vesperus and stealing Truth-Teller from Azriel.

  It took an hour to explain it all, though she omitted any mention of the Mask or the Trove. The fewer people who knew about them, the better. When she got to the part about how she’d been able to zero in on Hunt and jump right to him, his eyes gleamed, so full of love that her chest ached.

  Ruhn had been silent through all of it, though his phone buzzed frequently while she spoke. She had a feeling that he was getting updates from someone about Lidia’s current state.

  Hunt leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. He exhaled a long breath. “Okay. That is … a lot. Just give me a moment.”

  Bryce absently rubbed at her chest, the eight-pointed star scar there. She said quietly, “Tell me what happened here. Please.”

  * * *

  Bryce needed a minute when they finished.

  Ten minutes, actually.

  She left the room with a quiet “I’m so sorry” and then she was in the hall, stomach churning, breath stalling—

  “Bryce,” Hunt said from a few steps behind, boots thudding on the tiled floor.

  She couldn’t turn to face him. She’d left them, and they had suffered so much—

  “Quinlan,” he growled. His hand wrapped around her elbow, halting her. The hall was empty, its window overlooking the crushing black sea beyond the glass.

  “Bryce,” he said again, and gently turned her. She couldn’t stop her face from crumpling.

  Hunt was there in an instant, wrapping her in his arms, wings folding around them, surrounding her with that familiar, beckoning scent of rain on cedar.

  “Shhh,” he whispered, and she realized she’d begun crying, the full force of all that had happened to him, to her, crashing down.

  Bryce slid her arms around his waist, clinging tight. “I was so worried—”

  “I’m fine.”

  She scanned his face, his silver-lined eyes. “Those dungeons weren’t … fine, Hunt.”

  “I survived.”

  But shadows darkened his face with the words. He bowed his head, leaning his brow against hers. That hateful halo pressed against her skin. “Barely,” he admitted. She tightened her arms around him, shaking. “The thought of you kept me going.”

  He might as well have punched her in the heart. “You kept me going, too.”

  “Yeah?” The love in his voice threatened to shatter her heart. “I knew these smoldering good looks would come in handy one day.”

  She laughed brokenly. Lifted a hand to his face and traced its strong, beautiful lines.

  “I’m sorry,” he breathed, and the pain in the words nearly knocked her to the ground.

  “For what?”

  He shut his eyes, throat bobbing. “For getting us into this mess.”

  She pulled back. “You? You got us into this mess?”

  He opened his eyes again, his gaze bleak as the sea beyond the wall of windows at their backs. “I should have warned you, should have made us all think before we jumped into this nightmare—”

  She gaped. “You did warn me. You warned us all.” She cupped his cheek in a hand. “But the only ones to blame for any of this are the Asteri, Hunt.”

  “I should have tried harder. None of us would be in this situation—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there,” she said hotly, laying her palm on his chest. “Do I regret the pain and suffering that you all went through? Solas, yes. I can barely think about it. But do I regret that we took a stand, that we are taking a stand? No. Never. And you couldn’t have stopped me from starting that fight.” She frowned. “I thought we were on the same page about doing what needs to be done.”

  His expression shuttered. “We were—are.”

  “You don’t sound too sure of that.”

  “You didn’t have to see your friends carved apart.”

  The second the words were out, she knew from his wide eyes that he regretted them. But it didn’t stop them from hurting, from pelting her heart like stones. From sending her anger boiling up within her.

  But she stared at the black ocean pressing against the glass, all that death held a few inches away. She said quietly, “I had to live with the terror of possibly never getting home, never seeing you again, wondering if you were even alive, every second I was gone.” She glanced at him sidelong in time to see something cold pass over his face. She hadn’t seen that coldness in a long, long time.

  The face of the Umbra Mortis.

  His voice was chilled, too, as he said, “Good thing we both made it, then.”

  It wasn’t a resolution. Not even close. But this wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have with him. Not right now. So she said blandly, turning from the wall of windows, “Yeah. Good thing.”

  “So we’re really headed to Avallen?” Hunt asked carefully, letting it drop as well, that Umbra Mortis face vanishing. “You ready to deal with King Morven?”

  Bryce nodded, crossing her arms. “We won’t accomplish anything against the Asteri if I can’t learn what that portal to nowhere is and how it could possibly kill them. The Autumn King suggested that the Avallen Archives have a trove of information about the blades. And as for Morven … I just spent a few days with one asshole Fae King. Morven won’t be any worse.”

  Hunt shifted on his feet, wings tucking in tight. “I’m down with the plan and all, but … you really think there’s anything in the Avallen Archives that hasn’t already been discovered?”

  “If there’s any place on Midgard that might have clues, it’s there. The heart of all things Starborn. And that’s where the Autumn King said he read about the portal to nowhere in the first place.”

  “I’ll take whatever edge we can get, but again: King Morven isn’t exactly friendly.”

  Bryce glanced down at her chest, the star-shaped scar barely peeking above the dip of her T-shirt. “He’ll welcome us.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  She reached a hand into the interior pocket of her black athletic jacket. With a flourish, she pulled out her father’s notebook. “Because I’ve got the Autumn King’s dirty little secrets.”

  43

  Lidia Cervos stared at her sons. Their mer foster parents were seated on either side of them, watching her with predatory focus. Davit and Renki. She’d never learned their names until now. But judging by the way they sat poised to strike, her boys had been well cared for. Loved.

  Director Kagani sat across her desk from them, hands interlaced before her. The silence was palpable. Lidia had no idea how to break it.

  Had no idea who she was, sitting here in one of the Depth Charger’s dark blue tactical bodysuits. A far comfier uniform than her old one, designed for an aquatic lifestyle. No sign of her silver torque or imperial medals or any of the trappings of that fake life she’d created.

  She’d woken again a few hours after collapsing, in a different hospital bed, free of tubes and ports. She hoped the medwitch who’d helped her out of bed assumed her shaking legs were from lingering weakness.

  Even if the feeling continued now, as she sat before her sons.

  Brann, golden-haired and blue-eyed, wearing a forest-green T-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees, held her stare. Didn’t balk from it as Actaeon, dark-haired and golden-eyed, did. But it was to Actaeon, in his black T-shirt and matching jeans, that she spoke, gentling her voice as much as she could. “There is … a great deal to tell you. Both of you.”

  Actaeon glanced to the foster father on his left. Davit. The brown-skinned male in a dark blue officer’s uniform nodded encouragingly. Lidia’s chest tightened. This had been her choice. One she’d had no option but to accept, yet …

  She looked to Brann, whose eyes glowed with inner fire. Fearless—reckless. A natural leader. She’d seen that look on his face before, even as a baby.

  Brann said, “So, what—we’re supposed to live with you now?”

  Actaeon whipped his head to his parents in alarm. Lidia suppressed the sting at that expression, but answered, “No.” It was all she could manage to say.

  Renki, pale-skinned and dark-haired, assured Actaeon, “This doesn’t change anything. You guys are staying with us. And besides that, your mom has to take care of some stuff.” He was clad in the navy-blue coveralls of a ship medic—he must have run right over from work.