Syrinx yowled with displeasure, but trotted along, sniffing at everything in his path until the broad band of the Istros appeared, its riverside walkway empty at this early hour. Tharion had called her yesterday, promising the River Queen’s full support for any resources she needed.

  Bryce hadn’t the nerve to ask whether that support was due to her being the bastard daughter of the Autumn King, a Starborn Fae, or the bearer of Luna’s Horn. Perhaps all of them.

  Bryce settled onto one of the wooden benches along the quay, the Bone Quarter a swirling, misty wall across the water. The mer had come—had helped so many escape. Even the otters had grabbed the smallest of the city’s residents and carried them down to the Blue Court. The House of Many Waters had risen to the occasion. The shifters had risen to it.

  But the Fae…FiRo had sustained the least damage. The Fae had suffered the fewest casualties. It was no surprise, when their shields had been the first to go up. And had not opened to allow anyone inside.

  Bryce blocked out the thought as Syrinx leapt onto the bench beside her, nails clicking on the wood, and plopped his furry butt next to hers. Bryce slid her phone from her pocket and wrote to Juniper, Tell Madame Kyrah I’ll be at her next dance class.

  June wrote back almost immediately. The city was attacked and this is what you’re thinking about? A few seconds later she added, But I will.

  Bryce smiled. For long minutes, she and Syrinx sat in silence, watching the light bleed to gray, then to the palest blue. And then a golden thread of light appeared along the Istros’s calm surface.

  Bryce unlocked her phone. And read Danika’s final, happy messages one last time.

  The light built on the river, gilding its surface.

  Bryce’s eyes stung as she smiled softly, then read through Connor’s last words to her.

  Message me when you’re home safe.

  Bryce began typing. The answer it had taken her two years, nearly to the day, to write.

  I’m home.

  She sent the message into the ether, willed it to find its way across the gilded river and to the misty isle beyond.

  And then she deleted the thread. Deleted Danika’s messages, too. Each swipe of her finger had her heart lightening, lifting with the rising sun.

  When they were gone, when she had set them free, she stood, Syrinx leaping to the pavement beside her. She made to turn home, but a glimmer of light across the river caught her eye.

  For a heartbeat, just one, the dawn parted the mists of the Bone Quarter. Revealing a grassy shore. Rolling, serene hills beyond. Not a land of stone and gloom, but of light and green. And standing on that lovely shore, smiling at her…

  A gift from the Under-King for saving the city.

  Tears began rolling down her face as she beheld the near-invisible figures. All six of them—the seventh gone forever, having yielded her eternity. But the tallest of them, standing in the middle with his hand lifted in greeting…

  Bryce brought her hand to her mouth, blowing a gentle kiss.

  As swiftly as they parted, the mists closed. But Bryce kept smiling, all the way back to the apartment. Her phone buzzed, and Hunt’s message popped up. I’m home. Where are you?

  She could barely type as Syrinx tugged her along. Walking Syrinx. I’ll be there in a minute.

  Good. I’m making breakfast.

  Bryce’s grin nearly split her face in two as she hurried her steps, Syrinx launching into a flat-out sprint. As if he, too, knew what awaited them. Who awaited them.

  There was an angel in her apartment. Which meant it must be any gods-damned day of the week. Which meant she had joy in her heart, and her eyes set on the wide-open road ahead.

  EPILOGUE

  The white cat with eyes like blue opals sat on a bench in the Oracle’s Park and licked his front paw.

  “You know you’re not a true cat, don’t you?” Jesiba Roga clicked her tongue. “You don’t need to lick yourself.”

  Aidas, Prince of the Chasm, lifted his head. “Who says I don’t enjoy licking myself?”

  Amusement tugged on Jesiba’s thin mouth, but she shifted her stare to the quiet park, the towering cypresses still gleaming with dew. “Why didn’t you tell me about Bryce?”

  He flexed his claws. “I didn’t trust anyone. Even you.”

  “I thought Theia’s light was forever extinguished.”

  “So did I. I thought they’d made sure she and her power died on that last battlefield under Prince Pelias’s blade.” His eyes glowed with ancient rage. “But Bryce Quinlan bears her light.”

  “You can tell the difference between Bryce’s starlight and her brother’s?”

  “I shall never forget the exact shine and hue of Theia’s light. It is still a song in my blood.”

  Jesiba studied him for a long moment, then frowned. “And Hunt Athalar?”

  Aidas fell silent as a petitioner stumbled past, hoping to beat the crowds that had filled the Oracle’s Park and Luna’s Temple since portals to his world had opened within the quartz Gates and the beasts of the Pit had taken full advantage of it. Any who had managed to return were currently being punished by one of Aidas’s brothers. He would soon return to join them in it.

  Aidas said at last, “I think Athalar’s father would have been proud.”

  “Sentimental of you.”

  Aidas shrugged as best his feline body would allow. “Feel free to disagree, of course,” he said, leaping off the bench. “You knew the male best.” His whiskers twitched as he angled his head. “What of the library?”

  “It has already been moved.”

  He knew better than to ask where she had hidden it. So he merely said, “Good.”

  Jesiba didn’t speak again until the fifth Prince of Hel had stalked a few feet away. “Don’t fuck us over this time, Aidas.”

  “I do not plan to,” he said, fading into the space between realms, Hel a dark song beckoning him home. “Not when things are about to get so interesting.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book has been such a tremendous labor of love from the very start, and because of that, I have far too many people to thank than can possibly fit within these few pages, but I shall do my best! My endless gratitude and love to:

  Noa Wheeler, editor extraordinaire. Noa, how can I even begin to thank you? You transformed this book into something I’m proud of, challenged me to be a better writer, and worked your ass off at every single stage. You are brilliant and just a joy to work with, and I’m so honored to call you my editor.

  Tamar Rydzinski: Thank you for having my back through each step of this (long, long) journey. You are a badass queen.

  To the entire team at Bloombury: Laura Keefe, Nicole Jarvis, Valentina Rice, Emily Fisher, Lucy Mackay-Sim, Rebecca McNally, Kathleen Farrar, Amanda Shipp, Emma Hopkin, Nicola Hill, Ros Ellis, Nigel Newton, Cindy Loh, Alona Fryman, Donna Gauthier, Erica Barmash, Faye Bi, Beth Eller, Jenny Collins, Phoebe Dyer, Lily Yengle, Frank Bumbalo, Donna Mark, John Candell, Yelena Safronova, Melissa Kavonic, Oona Patrick, Nick Sweeney, Diane Aronson, Kerry Johnson, Christine Ma, Bridget McCusker, Nicholas Church, Claire Henry, Elise Burns, Andrea Kearney, Maia Fjord, Laura Main Ellen, Sian Robertson, Emily Moran, Ian Lamb, Emma Bradshaw, Fabia Ma, Grace Whooley, Alice Grigg, Joanna Everard, Jacqueline Sells, Tram-Anh Doan, Beatrice Cross, Jade Westwood, Cesca Hopwood, Jet Purdie, Saskia Dunn, Sonia Palmisano, Catriona Feeney, Hermione Davis, Hannah Temby, Grainne Reidy, Kate Sederstrom, Jennifer Gonzalez, Veronica Gonzalez, Elizabeth Tzetzo. It is a privilege to be published by you. Thank you for all of your support, and thank you especially to Kamilla Benko and Grace McNamee for their hard work on this book!

  To my foreign publishers: Record, Egmont Bulgaria, Albatros, DTV, Konyvmolykepzo, Mondadori, De Boekerij, Foksal, Azbooka Atticus, Slovart, Alfaguara, and Dogan Egmont. Thank you so much for bringing my books to your countries and to your amazing readers!

  A giant hug and round of applause for Elizabeth Evans, the audiobook narrator who so faithfully and lovingly brings my characters to life. It’s a delight and privilege to work with you!

  Thank you to the incredibly talented Carlos Quevedo for the cover artwork that so perfectly captured the spirit of this book, and to Virginia Allyn, for her fantastic map of the city!

  I literally would not have gotten through writing this book without my friends and family.

  So thank you from the bottom of my heart to J. R. Ward, for sharing your wisdom when I needed it most, for your unbelievable kindness, and for being an inspiration to me (and not minding that we both have a Ruhn!).

  To Lynette Noni: You are the actual best. The BEST. Your clever feedback, your generosity, your general awesomeness—girl, I love you something fierce.

  Jenn Kelly, I don’t know what I would do without you. You have become a part of my family, and I am grateful for you every day! To Steph Brown, my dear friend, fellow hockey fan, and the person who never fails to make me laugh—I adore you.

  Thank you to Julie Eshbaugh, Elle Kennedy, Alice Fanchiang, Louisse Ang, Laura Ashforth, and Jennifer Armentrout, for being true rays of light in my life. As always: thank you, Cassie Homer, for everything! A massive hug and thank-you to Jillian Stein, for all your help. A heartfelt thank-you to the immensely talented and cool Qusai Akoud, for your kickass vision and unparalleled website-building skills. And a huge thank-you to Danielle Jensen for reading and providing such vital feedback!

  Endless gratitude to my family (both by birth and through marriage!) for their support and unwavering love. (And to Linda, who prefers chocolate croissants on her birthday.)

  To my brilliant, lovely, and marvelous readers: How can I begin to thank you? You guys are the reason I do this, the reason I get out of bed each morning excited to write. I will never stop being grateful for each and every one of you.

  To Annie, who sat by my side/at my feet/in my lap while I worked on this book for years, and served as the inspiration for Syrinx in so many ways. I love you forever and ever, babypup.

  To Josh: I don’t think I can convey everything I feel for you even if I had another 800 pages to write it out. You are my best friend, my soul mate, and the reason I can write about true love. You held me together this past year, walking alongside me through some of the hardest moments I’ve ever encountered, and I have no words for what that means to me. The luckiest day of my life was the one when I met you, and I am so blessed to have you as my husband—and as such a wonderful father to our son.

  And lastly, to Taran: You truly are the brightest star in my sky. When things were hard, when things were dark, it was you I’d think about—your smile, your laugh, your beautiful face—and it carried me through. You probably won’t read this for a long, long while, but know that you give me purpose, and motivation, and joy—so much joy that my heart is full to bursting every single day. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I will always be so proud to be your mom.

 

 

  Sarah J. Maas, Crescent City 01 - House of Earth and Blood

 

 

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