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She met Nesta’s stare. Raging silver fire flickered there.
“You’re as much of a monster as they are,” Nesta accused.
Bryce knew. She’d always known. “Love will do that to you.”
Silver flames roared for her in a tidal wave, but Bryce was already leaping, sheathing the blades as she moved. Cold like nothing she’d known tore past her head, her spine—
And then the light from Nesta’s silver flame winked out as the gate shut above Bryce, nothing but darkness surrounding her as she plunged deeper and deeper into the pit.
Toward home.
PART II
THE SEARCH
28
Hours after Pollux and the Hawk had left with Rigelus, Hunt was no closer to knowing who they would select to die. His bet was on Baxian, but there was a good chance Pollux would realize that killing Ruhn would devastate Bryce. If Bryce ever got back home to learn of it.
He’d been surprised and disturbed to stir from unconsciousness to find a familiar, growing weight at his back. A glance to Baxian had shown him the source: their wings were somehow regrowing at rapid speed, despite the gorsian shackles. Someone had to have given them something to orchestrate the healing—though it couldn’t mean anything good.
He wondered if their captors had realized that the relentless itching would be a torment as awful as the whips and brands. Gritting his teeth against it, Hunt writhed, arching his spine, as if it’d help ease the merciless sensation. He’d give anything, anything, for one scratch—
“Orion.” Aidas’s voice sounded in his head, in the chamber. A cat with eyes like blue opals crouched on the floor, amid the blood and waste. The same form Rigelus had used to deceive Hunt months ago.
“Aidas … or Rigelus?” Hunt groaned.
Aidas was smart enough to get it—Hunt needed proof. The demon prince said, “Miss Quinlan first met me on a park bench outside of the Oracle’s Temple when she was thirteen. I asked her what blinds an Oracle.”
The real thing, then. Not some trick of the Asteri.
“Bryce,” Hunt moaned.
“I’m looking for her,” Aidas said. Hunt could have sworn the cat looked sad.
“What does Rigelus want from my lightning?”
Aidas’s tail swished. “So that’s why he’s working so hard to break you.”
“He threatened to kill one of them if I didn’t give some to him.” A nod to Ruhn and Baxian.
Aidas bristled. “You mustn’t do so, Athalar.”
“Too late. He harvested it into a crystal like firstlight. And the fucker’s going to kill one of them anyway.”
Aidas’s blue eyes filled with worry, but the prince said nothing.
So Hunt said again, “What does he want from my lightning?”
“If I were to guess … The same thing Sofie Renast’s lightning was hunted for: to resurrect the dead.”
Hunt’s head swam. “My lightning can’t do that. We didn’t even know Sofie’s lightning could do that.”
Aidas blinked. “Well, apparently, Rigelus thinks both sources of lightning can.”
“How did you find that out? We didn’t discover that, and we were trying to dig up information about Sofie for weeks.” Hunt fought the fog in his head. No, he knew this wasn’t possible.
“I don’t just sit around waiting for you to contact me,” Aidas said. “My spies hear whispers around Midgard … and when some concern me, I go to investigate.”
