Through love, all is possible. She called up the memory of Danika’s love and let it course through her, steady her as she lowered herself onto the ground.

  Into the beasts’ nest.

  They lay before her like obedient dogs. She didn’t question it. Didn’t think of anything but the star on her chest and the tunnel it pointed toward and the desire to see the faces of those she loved once more.

  Bryce took a step, her neon-pink sneaker outrageously bright amid the dark scales so terrifyingly close. Then another step. The creatures watched, but they didn’t move a single talon.

  Ruhn had called her a queen before she left. And for the first time in her life, as she walked through that sea of death … she might have lifted her chin a bit higher. Might have felt a mantle settle on her shoulders, a train of starlight in her wake.

  Might have felt something like a crown settle upon her head. Guiding her into the dark.

  * * *

  Tharion finally worked up enough concentration and energy to get to his feet and amble toward his room. Holstrom cornered him a second later.

  “What the Hel happened?” the wolf asked, halting Tharion on the threshold.

  “The River Queen was gunning for me.” Gods, his voice sounded dead, even to his ears. “It was either death or imprisonment at her hands or … this.”

  “You should have come to me.”

  “For what?” Tharion’s laugh was as dead as his voice. “You’re a defector, too. We’re packless wolves.” Tharion nodded to the wolf now sitting on the couch beside Flynn. “Speaking of which … Sigrid Fendyr?”

  “Long story. She’s Sabine’s niece.” Ithan’s mouth tightened. “She was the female mystic in the Astronomer’s place. I pulled her out two days ago.”

  Tharion’s head spun. “So what are you doing here?”

  “Before Sabine showed up to kill Sigrid, we were just getting to the part where I convinced everyone to come free you from this shithole so we could get onto the Depth Charger and save Ruhn and Athalar.”

  “That’s … a lot of words.” Tharion’s heart was swimming with them.

  Or maybe that was the venom. His stomach was churning, and he really needed a toilet or a bed or a single moment of peace.

  “You can’t stay here,” Ithan said, but his voice seemed distant as Tharion walked to his bed and collapsed face-first onto the mattress. “We’re gonna find a way to get you out.”

  “Too late, wolf,” Tharion said, words muffled against the pillows. They slurred further as sleep grabbed him with sharp talons and tugged him down. “There’s no saving me.”

  * * *

  Ithan found Sigrid pacing before the window overlooking the now-dim fighting pit. It was late enough that even its lights had been shut off.

  “You should sleep—the couch is yours.”

  Dec, Flynn, and Marc had all claimed spots on the floor—though from their breathing patterns, Ithan knew they were awake. After the night they’d had, how could any of them sleep?

  Sigrid wrapped her arms around her thin body. “We’re trapped here.”

  “No,” Ithan insisted. “I won’t let that happen.”

  “I can’t be trapped again.” Her voice broke. “I can’t.”

  “You’re getting out of here,” Ithan said. “No matter what.”

  “Then why not go for the door right now?” she demanded, waving a hand toward the exterior door to the suite.

  “Because there are six drugged-up Fae assassins on the other side, waiting to kill us if we do.”

  Her face blanched and she rubbed at her chest. “Trapping us. I need to get out.”

  “You will.”

  She closed her eyes, breathing shallowly, losing herself in panic.

  Ithan glanced across the room. The three sprites—now curled up beside Flynn and dozing as violet balls of flame—hadn’t seemed too panicked. Quiet, but … focused. Like they were accustomed to facing fear. It made his guts twist to think about it.

  “Sabine will come for me again,” Sigrid said. “Won’t she?”

  “She’ll try, but we’ll be long out of the city by the time she recovers.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t we leave immediately? When you took me out of the tank?”

  Ithan stiffened. “Because I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “A house with those buffoons was the best—”

  “Those buffoons are my friends, and some of the best fighters I know,” Ithan warned, temper flaring. “Those buffoons risked their lives for you tonight—saved you tonight.”

  Her teeth bared. “If Sabine will recover, then let me get to her body and rip it to—”

  “Believe me, the thought crossed my mind. But …”

  He didn’t finish the thought.

  “But what?”

  He shook his head, not letting himself go there, even mentally. “It’s late,” he said. “You should sleep.”

  “I won’t be able to.”

  “Then try,” he said, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary.

  Sigrid glared at him, then glanced toward the door to Tharion’s bedroom. “Was that the mer you wanted to get to help us?”

  “Yes.”

  She snorted. “I don’t think he’ll be much help to anyone. Not even himself.”

  “You should sleep,” he said again. He’d had enough of this.

  “Is this a thing you do frequently?” she asked suddenly. “Liberate people enslaved to others?”

  “Only recently,” he said wearily.

  He didn’t wait for her to reply before he walked to Tharion’s room, threw himself on the ground beside the heavily sleeping male, and closed his eyes.

  6

  About twenty feet into the tunnel, the beasts tapered off. They remained still, watchful, until Bryce had passed the last of them. Until she found bars blocking the way, save for a small door on the left side of the barrier. The door swung open at the touch of her hand. She had to stoop to get through, but it had clearly been designed to keep the beasts from getting out.

  She made sure to shut the door behind her.

  The metal groaned, and then hissing, like a swarm of angry wasps, filled the tunnel.

  The beasts were writhing again, snapping jaws and heaving bodies scraping against each other, as if shutting the door had knocked them from their stupor. Bryce stumbled back in time to see one particularly massive beast lunge for the bars.

  The iron shook with the impact—but held.

  Bryce panted, surveying the sinuous death once again in motion. But the beasts were far too large to squeeze through the bars.

  She let out a shaky breath and surveyed the tunnel ahead. The star flared brighter, as if urging her onward.

  “All right,” she said, patting her chest. “All right.”

  * * *

  Bryce walked for hours. Or what she assumed was hours, judging by how sore her legs became, how her feet ached, even with the cushioning of her sneakers.

  The tunnel could lead nowhere. It could last for a hundred miles.

  She should have grabbed some supplies—stuffed some of the food from her tray into her pockets and bra. Filled up on water.

  She saw no deviations, no alternate tunnels or crossroads. Just one long, endless stretch into the dark.

  Her mouth dried out, and though she knew she shouldn’t, Bryce stopped. Sitting down against the age-worn wall, she swallowed the dryness in her mouth. She had no choice but to keep going.

  She closed her eyes for a heartbeat. Only one—

  * * *

  Bryce’s eyes flew open.

  She’d fallen asleep. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep, so fucking exhausted from the last gods knew how many hours that she hadn’t even realized it, and—

  The star on her chest was still glowing beneath her T-shirt. She remained in the tunnel.

  But it was no longer empty.

  Nesta stood over her, a sword strapped down her back. The female’s blue-gray eyes seemed to gleam with power in the starlight.

  Bryce didn’t dare move.

  Nesta tossed her a leather-wrapped canteen. “Do yourself a favor and drink before you pass out again.”

  * * *

  Bryce sipped from the canteen of what seemed to be—thankfully—water, and watched the other female over the rim of the bottle. Nesta sat against the opposite wall of the tunnel, monitoring Bryce with a feline curiosity.

  They’d been silent in the minutes since Bryce had awoken. Nesta had barely moved, other than to take a seat.

  At last, Bryce capped the canteen and tossed it back to Nesta. The female caught it with ease. “How’d you learn that I left the cell?” No need to reveal that she could teleport.

  Nesta gave her a bored look—as if Bryce should have already known the answer. “We have people who can talk to shadows. They told us you went through the grate.”

  Interesting—and creepy. But Bryce asked, “So you’re here to drag me back to the cell?”

  Nesta shoved the canteen into her pack and rose, the movement sure and graceful. The sword strapped down her back … it wasn’t the Starsword, though Bryce could have sworn there was something similar about the blade. A kind of presence, a tug toward it.

  The female inclined her head to the tunnel behind them—the way back. “I was sent to escort you.”

  “Semantics.” Bryce got to her feet. Her versus this female … decent odds, but the sword presented a problem. As did whatever sort of presence thrummed from Nesta, apparently able to detect the Horn in Bryce’s back. Battling an opponent whose skills and powers were unknown, if not wholly alien, was probably unwise. “Look. I’m not here to start trouble—”

  “Then don’t. Walk back with me.”

  Bryce eyed the tunnel behind them. “How’d you even get past the beasts?”

  A slight smile. “It pays to know people with wings.”

  Bryce grunted, despite the ache in her chest. “So someone flew you to the gate—”

  “And will fly us out.” A corner of her mouth kicked up. “Or haul you, if you decide to do this the hard way.”

  Bryce scanned the path behind Nesta. Only deep shadows lingered. No sign of anyone with wings waiting to snatch her. “You might be bluffing.”

  She could have sworn silver fire danced in Nesta’s eyes. “Do you want to find out?”

  Bryce held her stare. Clearly, they didn’t want her dead, if they’d sent someone to retrieve her, not hunt her down. But if she returned to that cell, how long would they keep her there? Even hours could make a difference for Hunt and Ruhn—

  “I’m always up for a day of discovery,” Bryce said.

  Then she erupted with light.

  Nesta cursed, but Bryce didn’t wait to see if the light had blinded her before bolting down the passage. Without any weapons, a running head start was her best chance of making it.

  A force like a stone wall hit her from behind. The world tilted, her breath rushing from her as she collided with the stone ground, bones barking in pain. Shadows had wrapped around her, pinning her, and she thrashed, kicking and swatting at them.

  She flared her light, a blast of incandescence that sent the shadows splintering in every direction.

  She might not have enough magic left in her veins to teleport, but she could buy herself some time with this, at least. She scrambled to her feet, the shadows leaping upon her again, a pack of wolves set on devouring her.

  She let them swarm her for just a moment before her magic exploded outward, a bomb of light in every direction. It sent those shadows flying into the ceiling, the walls. Where shadow met stone, debris tumbled from the ceiling. The mountain shook.

  Bryce ran. Deeper into the tunnel, into the dark, her star flaring as she raced away from the crumbling rock all around—

  The world shook and roared again, sending her sprawling amid a cloud of dust.

  And then there was silence, interrupted only by the skittering rocks from the wall of stones now blocking the way back. But a cave-in wouldn’t stop Vanir or Fae for long. Bryce lunged upward—

  Metal bit into her throat. Icy, deathly cold.

  “Do not,” Nesta said quietly, panting, “move.”

  Bryce glared up at the female but didn’t shove the blade from her throat. Her very bones roared at her not to touch the sword more than necessary. “Neat trick with the shadows.”

  Nesta just stared imperiously at her. “Get up.”

  “Put down your sword and I will.”

  Their gazes clashed, but the sword moved a fraction. Bryce got to her feet, wiping dust and debris from her clothes. “What now?”

  Her knees buckled with exhaustion. Her magic was spent, her veins utterly devoid of starlight.

  Nesta glanced to the cave-in. Whatever shadow magic she possessed seemed to have little ability to move it. The warrior nodded to the tunnel ahead. “I suppose you’re getting your way.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause that—”

  “It doesn’t matter. There’s only one way out now. If there’s a way out at all.”

  Bryce sighed, frowning at the star on her chest, still gleaming into the dark through her T-shirt. Illuminating all the dirt now smeared on the white cotton. “I didn’t intend to drag anyone else into this with me.”

  “Then you should have stayed in the Hewn City.”

  Bryce tucked away that kernel of knowledge—the place she’d been kept was called the Hewn City. “Look, this star …” She tapped her chest. “It’s pointing me this way. I have no idea why, but I have to follow it.”

  Nesta gestured with her blade to the dark path ahead. Bryce could have sworn the sword sang through the air. “So lead on.”

  “You won’t stop me?”

  Nesta sheathed the sword down her back with enviable grace. “We’re trapped down here. We might as well see what lies ahead.”

  It was a better reaction than Bryce could have hoped for. Especially from the Fae.

  With a shrug, Bryce walked into the dark, one eye on the female at her side. And prayed Urd knew where she was leading them.

  7

  Lidia carried the crystal bubble containing the Queen of the Fire Sprites through the dim halls, Irithys’s flame splashing gold upon the marble floors and walls.

  She said nothing to the sprite—not with all the cameras mounted throughout the Asteri’s palace. Irithys didn’t seem to care. She rested on the bottom of the orb with her legs folded serenely. After several long minutes, though, the sprite said, “The dungeons aren’t this way.”

  “And you’re so familiar with the layout of this place?”

  “I have a keen memory,” the queen said flatly, her long hair floating above her head in a twirl of yellow flame. “I need only see something once to remember it. I recall the entire walk down here to the mystics in perfect detail.”

  A helpful gift. But Lidia said, “We’re not going to the dungeons.”

  From the corner of her eye, she noted Irithys peering at her. “But you told Rigelus—”

  “It has been a long while since you left your bubble … and used your powers.” Whatever embers were left with the halo’s constraints. “I think it wise that we warm you up a bit before the main event.”

  “What do you mean?” the queen demanded, flame shifting to a wary orange, but Lidia said nothing as she unlocked an unmarked iron door on a quiet lower level. Lidia offered up silent thanks to Luna that her hands didn’t shake as she reached for the handle, the gold-and-ruby ring on her finger shimmering in Irithys’s light.

  Between one breath and the next, Lidia buried that part of her that begged to distant gods, the part that doubted. She became still and flat, expression as undisturbed as the surface of a forgotten forest pool.

  The door creaked open to reveal a table, a chair in front of it, and on the other side of the table, chained with gorsian shackles, an imperial hag.

  The hag lifted baleful, yellow-tinged eyes to Lidia as the Hind shut the door behind her. Those eyes lowered to the bubble, the Sprite Queen glowing orange inside it.

  Lidia slid into the chair across from the prisoner, setting the sprite’s crystal on the table between them as if it were no more than a handbag. “Thank you for meeting me, Hilde.”

  “I had no choice in the matter,” the hag rasped, her thinning white hair glimmering like strands of wispy moonlight. A wretched, twisted creature, but one of hidden beauty. “Ever since your dogs arrested me on trumped-up charges—”

  “You were found in possession of a comm-crystal known to be used by Ophion rebels.”

  “I never saw that crystal in all my life,” Hilde snapped, shards of brown teeth glinting. “Someone framed me.”

  “Yes, yes,” Lidia said, waving a hand. Irithys watched every movement, still that alert shade of orange. “You can plead your case before Rigelus.”

  The imperial hag had the good sense to look nervous. “Then why are you here?”

  Lidia smirked at Irithys. “To warm you up.”

  The Sprite Queen caught her meaning, and simmered into a deep, threatening red.

  But the hag let out a hacking laugh. She still wore her imperial uniform, the crest of the Republic frayed over her sagging breasts. “I’ve got nothing to tell you, Lidia.”

  Lidia crossed one leg over the other. “We’ll see.”

  Hilde hissed, “You think yourself so mighty, so untouchable.”

  “Is this the part where you tell me you’ll have your revenge?”

  “I knew your mother, girl,” the hag snapped.

  Lidia had enough training and self-control to keep her face blank, tone utterly bored. “My mother was a witch-queen. Plenty of people knew her.”

  “Ah, but I knew her—flew in her unit in our fighting days.”

  Lidia angled her head. “Before or after you sold your soul to Flame and Shadow?”

  “I swore allegiance to Flame and Shadow because of your mother. Because she was weak and spineless and had no taste for punishment.”

  “I suppose my mother and I differ on that front, then.”