Ithan stood on the deck of a fishing boat that had seen better decades, Hypaxia at his side. Apparently, Jesiba Roga didn’t think the two of them needed to travel in style.
But at least the shark-shifter crew hadn’t asked questions. And had kept their own counsel as they cut the engine and the boat bobbed in the gray swells of the Haldren, right in front of the impenetrable, sky-high wall of mist.
Ithan nodded to the broken brooch on Hypaxia’s cloak. “Any chance your broom still works? We could fly over them.”
“No,” Hypaxia said. “And besides, only Morven can let us through.”
Ithan reached a hand toward the mists, twining it through his fingers. “So how do we contact him? Knock on the barrier? Send up a flare?”
His tone was more cheerful than he felt. Somewhere beyond these mists lay Sofie’s body. Apparently, Morven had told Jesiba they could have it—his late son had shipped it to his home, and the Fae King hadn’t yet bothered to have it tossed into the garbage. A stroke of luck sent from Urd herself. Jesiba had promised that Morven wouldn’t touch it—that he’d be glad to dump the body into their hands.
That is, if they could get through the barrier. Hypaxia lifted a light brown hand to the mists, as if testing them. “They feel …”
As if in answer, the curtain of the mists shuddered and parted.
Sunlight flooded through. Gray seas turned turquoise. The wind warmed to a balmy, gentle breeze. A paradise lay beyond.
Even the gruff shark shifters gasped in shock. But Ithan glanced at Hypaxia, who was wide-eyed as well. “What’s wrong?”
Hypaxia slowly shook her head. “This is not the Avallen I have visited before.”
“What do you mean?” Every instinct went on alert, his wolf at the ready.
Hypaxia motioned to the captain to start sailing through the parted mists, toward the lush, beckoning land. Prettier than even the Coronal Islands. The former witch-queen breathed, “Something tremendous has occurred here.”
Ithan sighed. “Please tell me it was a good tremendous change?”
Her silence wasn’t reassuring.
Hunt found Bryce sitting atop the ruins of what had once been a tower, tangles of blooming vines and roses all around her. A beautiful, surreal place for a Fae Queen to rest.
The land seemed to know her, small blooming flowers nestling around her body, some of them even curling in the long strands of her hair.
Yet her face when Hunt sat beside her was hollow. Devastated.
Dried tears had left salty tracks down her cheeks. And her whiskey-colored eyes, usually so full of life and fire, were vacant. Vacant in a way he hadn’t seen since that time he’d found her at Lethe, drinking away her grief at Danika’s death, the wound reopened when she realized her father had withheld vital information that would have helped with the investigation.
Hunt sat at her side on an uneven bit of tumbled stone and slid a wing around her. From up here, he could see the scattering of islands amid the vibrant teal of the ocean. Avallen had awoken into a paradise, and part of him ached to leap into the skies and explore every inch of it, but …
“All that new power from Theia,” Bryce said hoarsely, “and it didn’t amount to shit. I didn’t find it in time to help anyone—save anyone.”
Hunt kissed her temple and promised, “We’ll make it count, Bryce.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For being a dick to you about what you’re going through.”
“Bryce …,” he began, scrambling for the words.
“I apologize for everything I said to you about getting over it,” she went on. “But …” Her lips pressed into a thin line, as if keeping in a sob that wanted to work itself free.
“What just happened,” he said roughly, “isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault but the Asteri’s. You’ve always been right about that.”
She said dully, as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said, “Fury and June are getting into a helicopter with my parents, Emile—Cooper, I mean—and Syrinx,” A glance down at where she’d discarded her phone in the blossoms beside her. “The Asteri didn’t find them before the attack, but I want them all here, kept safe.”
“Good,” Hunt said. They’d all spent the past hour making frantic phone calls to family and friends. Hunt had debated for a long while about whether to risk calling Isaiah and Naomi, but had opted not to in the end, lest it raise any trouble if their phones were tapped. Which was part of why he’d sought Bryce out now, even though he knew she’d come up here to be alone.
The others were finding lodgings for the night, now that Morven’s castle lay in ruins. From Ruhn’s grim face, it seemed the Fae weren’t being welcoming. Tough fucking luck, Hunt wanted to say. They were about to get a whole influx of people.
“We could stay here,” Bryce murmured, and Hunt knew that the words were ones she’d only speak in front of him. “We could get all our friends and family, anyone who can make it across the Haldren—and just … stay here, protected. Forever. It’s basically what the Ocean Queen asked for. And would make me little better than my ancestors—to hide like that. But at least people would be safe. Some people on Midgard, at least.” While the majority remained at the mercy of the Asteri.
Hunt leaned forward to peer at her face. “Is that what you want to do?”
“No,” Bryce said, and her eyes lifted to the island-dotted horizon. To the wall of mist beyond it. “I mean, anyone who can make it here, any refugees, they’ll be allowed in. I willed the mists to make it so.”
He would normally have ribbed her about how very Super Powerful and Special Magic Starborn Fae Queen that was, but he kept his mouth shut. Let her keep talking.
“But us …” The bleak look on her face had him folding his wing more tightly around her. “We can’t hide here forever.”
“No,” he agreed. “We can’t.” He let her see how much he meant it. That he’d fight until the very end.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I can’t even think about what they did. To Ophion and the camps … to the Meadows …” Her voice broke.
He couldn’t process it, either. The innocents killed. The children.
“We have an obligation,” Bryce said, and lifted her head. “To those people. To Midgard. And to other worlds, too. We have an obligation to end this.”
It was Bryce’s beloved face looking at him, but it was also the face of a queen. His lightning stirred in answer. And it didn’t matter to him if those fucks Apollion and Thanatos had made him, made his power. If his lightning could help her, save her, save Midgard from the Asteri … that was all that mattered.
Bryce said, “I have an obligation to end this.”
Her gaze swept over the peaceful archipelago, and for a moment, Hunt could see it: a life here, with their kids and their friends. A life they could build for themselves in this untouched place.
It shimmered there, so close he could nearly touch it.
Bryce said, as if thinking the same thing, “I think Urd needed me to come here.”
“To know it could be a refuge?”
She shook her head. “I wondered why the mists kept out the Asteri, how we could use those mists against them. I thought we’d come here and find answers, maybe some secret weapon—like some major Asteri-repelling device.”
She slid her exhausted gaze to him at last.
“But it’s the sheer quantity of black salt that keeps the Asteri out, not the mists, and we can’t replicate that. I think Urd wanted me to see that a society could thrive here. That I could be safe here, along with everyone I love.”
Her mouth trembled, but she pressed it into a thin line.
“I think Urd wanted me to see and learn all that,” she went on, “and have to decide whether to stay, or leave this safety behind and fight. Urd wanted to tempt me.”
“Maybe it was a gift,” Hunt offered. “Not a test or challenge, Bryce, but a gift.” At her raised eyebrows, he explained, “For Urd to let the people you love be safe here—while you go kick some Asteri ass.”
Her smile was unspeakably sad. “To know they’ll be protected here … even if we fail.”
He didn’t try to reassure her that they’d succeed. Instead, he promised gently, “We’ll do it together. You and me—we’ll end it together.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. “I’m with you. All of me. You and I, we’ll finish this.”
Her chin lifted, and he could have sworn a crown of stars glimmered around her head. “I want to wipe them off the face of the planet,” she said, and though her voice was soft, nothing but pure, predatory rage filled it.
“I’ll get the mop and bucket,” he said, and flashed her a smile.
She looked at him, all regal fury and poise—and laughed. The first moment of normalcy between them, joyous and beautiful. Another thing for him to fight for. Until the very end.
Tendrils of night-blooming purple flowers unfurled around her in answer, despite the daylight. Had it always been leading toward this? In the night garden, before they were attacked by the kristallos all those months ago, he could have sworn the flowers had opened for her. Were they sensing this power, the dusk-born heritage in her veins?
“This is remarkable,” he said, nodding to the island that seemed to respond to her every emotion.
“I think it’s what the Prison—the island in the Fae’s home world—once was. When Theia ruled it, I mean. Before Silene fucked it all up. Maybe they’re linked in some way through being thin places and spilled over to each other a bit. Maybe back in that other world … maybe I woke up the land around the Prison, too.”
Hunt’s brows rose. “Only one way to find out, I guess.”
She huffed. “I don’t think they’ll ever let me set foot back in that world.”
“Do you think there’s any chance we could recruit them to fight for us?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know what they’d say, but … I wouldn’t ask that of them. Of anyone.”
“I take back what I said earlier, about giving the planning a rest: we need to start thinking through our strategy.” He hated putting the burden on her, but they had to make a move. She was right—they couldn’t hide here. “The Asteri clearly want us to retaliate for what they did. Rigelus probably expects us to try to rally an army and attack them, but it’ll never work. We’ll always be outgunned and outnumbered.” He took her hand. “I … Bryce, I lost one army already.”
“I know,” she said.
But he pushed, “We’re also talking about taking on six Asteri. If it was us versus Rigelus, maybe … but all six? Do we separate them? Pick them off one by one?”
“No. It’d give the others time to rally. We strike them all at once—together.”
He considered. “It’s time to let Hel in, isn’t it?”
The sweet breeze ruffled her hair as she nodded.
“So where does that leave us?” he asked.
The star on her chest glowed. “We’re going to Nena. To open the Northern Rift.”
“Fuck. Okay. Ignoring the enormity of that, and assuming it all goes right, what happens next? Do we walk into the palace and start fighting?”
Her gaze had again lifted to the islands and glimmering sea. That regal expression spread over her face, and he knew he was getting a glimpse of the leader she’d become. If they got through this.
“What is the one thing Rigelus has constantly told us?” Bryce asked.
“That we suck?”
She chuckled. “He went out of his way to offer you freedom,” she said, nodding to where the brand was back on his wrist, “as a way to entice me to keep my mouth shut about killing Micah. And keep you quiet about killing Sandriel.”
He angled his head. “You want to go public about it?”
“I think Rigelus and the Asteri are nervous about the world finding out what we did. That their precious Archangels could be killed. By two apparent randos, no less.”
It was Hunt’s turn to chuckle. “We’re not exactly randos.”
“Yeah, but I’m still going to show Midgard that even Archangels can be killed.”
“Okay, that’s … that’s awesome,” Hunt said, his blood pumping at the thought. Rigelus would lose his fucking mind. “But what will it accomplish?”
“They’ll be so busy dealing with the media they won’t think about us for a little while,” Bryce said, smiling cruelly. Just a hint of the father who now lay dead beneath the earth here. “It will be more of a distraction than any army from Hel.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Hunt said, mulling it over. “I really do. But how are you going to prove it? Everyone would have to take your word for it, and the Asteri would deny it immediately.”
“That’s why I need to talk to Jesiba.”
“Oh?”
She got to her feet and offered him a hand to rise. “Because she has the video footage of what I did to Micah.”
What lay before Ithan was truly a paradise on Midgard. Crystal clear water, lush vegetation, streams and waterfalls pouring into the sea, powdery sand, birds singing …
He remained on alert, however, as the boat pulled up to a cove, close enough to the shore that he and Hypaxia jumped out and waded the few feet onto the beach.
“Which way?” he asked the former queen, scanning the dense foliage bordering the beach, the rising hills. “Jesiba said the castle was a few miles inland, but I didn’t see anything while we were sailing in—”
Wings flapped above, and Ithan shifted on instinct, his powerful wolf’s body nudging Hypaxia behind him as he snarled up at the sky.
Two scents hit him a heartbeat later.
And Ithan’s head emptied out entirely as Hunt Athalar landed in the sand, Bryce in his arms.
