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“So,” Bryce said without glancing up from the computer, “are you going to look around or sit there and gawk?”
Athalar snickered, but said nothing, his finger tracing over a line of text.
Ruhn glared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Researching the kristallos,” Hunt said, his dark eyes lifting from the book. “I’ve killed about a dozen Type-Six demons over the centuries, and I want to see if there are any similarities.”
“Is the kristallos a Type-Six?” Ruhn asked.
“I’m assuming it is,” Hunt replied, studying the book again. “Type-Seven is only for the princes themselves, and given what this thing can do, I’d bet it’d be deemed a Six.” He drummed his fingers on the ancient page. “I haven’t seen any similarities, though.”
Bryce hummed. “Maybe you’re looking in the wrong spot. Maybe …” She angled her laptop toward Athalar, fingers flying. “We’re looking for info on something that hasn’t entered this world in fifteen thousand years. The fact that no one could ID it suggests it might not have made it into many of the history books, and only a handful of those books survived this long. But …” More typing, and Ruhn craned his neck to see the database she pulled up. “Where are we right now?” she asked Athalar.
“A library.”
“An antiquities gallery, dumbass.” A page loaded, full of images of ancient vases and amphorae, mosaics, and statues. She’d typed demon + Fae into the search bar. Bryce slid the laptop to Hunt. “Maybe we can find the kristallos in ancient art.”
Hunt grumbled, but Ruhn noted the impressed gleam in his eyes before he began scanning through the pages of results.
“I’ve never met a prince before,” Lehabah sighed from the couch.
“They’re overrated,” Ruhn said over a shoulder.
Athalar grunted his agreement.
“What is it like,” the sprite asked, propping her fiery head on a burning fist, “to be the Chosen One?”
“Boring,” Ruhn admitted. “Beyond the sword and some party tricks, there’s not much to it.”
“Can I see the Starsword?”
“I left it at home. I didn’t feel like having to deal with tourists stopping me on every block, wanting to take pictures.”
“Poor little prince,” Bryce cooed.
Hunt grunted his agreement again, and Ruhn bit out, “You got something to say, Athalar?”
The angel’s eyes lifted from the laptop. “She said it all.”
Ruhn snarled, but Bryce asked, surveying them, “What’s the deal with you two?”
“Oh, do tell,” Lehabah pleaded, pausing her show to perk up on the couch.
Hunt went back to perusing the results. “We beat the shit out of each other at a party. Danaan’s still sore about it.”
Bryce’s grin was the definition of shit-eating. “Why’d you fight?”
Ruhn snapped, “Because he’s an arrogant asshole.”
“Likewise,” Hunt said, mouth curling in a half smile.
Bryce threw Lehabah a knowing look. “Boys and their pissing contests.”
Lehabah made a prim little sound. “Not nearly as advanced as us ladies.”
Ruhn rolled his eyes, surprised to find Athalar doing the same.
Bryce gestured to the endless shelves that filled the library. “Well, cousin,” she said, “have at it. Let your Starborn powers guide you to enlightenment.”
