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The Fae female gave her a watery smile, but to her credit, didn’t run screaming from the cave and its grasping, misty fingers. If Sathia did indeed prefer to face what lurked in this cave over the Murder Twins, maybe Bryce owed it to her and females everywhere to kick some ass when they got back.
If they got back.
“Right,” Hunt said. “According to Declan, Pelias’s tomb and the Starsword’s resting place lie right in the center of the cave network.” They’d swiped food and water from the surprised-looking kitchen staff, preparing for a few days’ journey. “But there are lots of things that will try to eat us along the way.”
Bryce ignored the twisting in her stomach. She’d gone to another world, she’d faced an Asteri—she could deal with a few ghouls and wraiths. She had three badasses with her. Plus Sathia. She could do this.
Bryce faced the others and held out her hand at waist level. “Go Team Caves on three?”
They all looked at her, but didn’t cover her hand with theirs. Not even Hunt, the bastard. After the way they’d fucked last night, the least he could do was indulge her with some team spirit. But he gave her a look, as if to say, Gravitas, Quinlan.
Fuck that. She lifted her hand in the air and shouted, “Gooooo Team Caves!”
The words echoed off the boulders, down the passage, and into the misty darkness beyond. Where they suddenly cut off, as if the caves themselves had devoured them.
“That’s not creepy at all,” Hunt murmured.
“Totally normal,” Baxian agreed.
“Don’t worry,” Bryce crooned. “I’ll protect you from the scary cave.” And with that, she strode into the dark.
* * *
Morven cornered Ruhn outside the dining hall just before he and his friends left for the archives again after breakfast.
“A word,” Morven said, hooking a finger toward him. The mass of shadows from the day before was gone, but the crown of them remained floating atop his head.
“Here I was,” Ruhn drawled, nodding at Flynn and Dec to keep going down the hall, “thinking I didn’t exist to you.”
Morven leveled a cold look at him—it made Ruhn’s father seem downright cheerful. But Ruhn noticed that the king waited to speak until Lidia had walked past, out the door, not sparing a glance for either of them.
“What are your sister’s intentions in coming here?”
“Bryce told you,” Ruhn said tightly. “She wants information.”
“On what?”
“The sword and knife, for one thing. The rest is classified.” Asshole, he didn’t need to add.
Morven’s eyes darkened to blackest night. “And does she plan to claim Avallen for herself?”
Ruhn burst out laughing. “What? No. If she did, I wouldn’t tell you, but trust me: this place …” He surveyed the dark, crypt-like hall. “This isn’t her style. Just ask my father.”
“That is another thing: Your sister must have done something to him. How else would she come to possess his journal?”
“If she has, it didn’t involve trying to claim his crown. She’s said nothing about it.” Ruhn glared at the king. “And again: If she was planning some sort of Fae coup, why the Hel would I tell you about it?”
“Because you are true Fae, not some half-breed—”
“I’d mind how you speak about my sister.”
Morven’s shadows gathered at his fingers, his shoulders. Wild, angry shadows that Ruhn’s own balked to meet. They seemed corrupted somehow, like those Seamus and Duncan wielded mentally. “You are Starborn. You have an obligation to our people.”
“To do what?”
“To ensure they survive.”
“Bryce is Starborn, too.”
