The words bloomed in Bryce’s heart at the same moment Hunt shot a bolt of his power—the Dead Gate’s power—into her. It burned and roared and blinded, a writhing ball of energy that Bryce broke to her will and funneled into the Starsword.
Forks of lightning cracked from Hunt, from her, from the sword.
The Shepherd turned tail and fled.
Bryce ran after it.
Wings flapped behind her, and then she was in Hunt’s arms. He carried her high above the beast’s back, then plunged down, lightning streaming around them, a meteorite crashing—
They slammed into the creature, and Bryce drove the sword into the Shepherd’s nape. Into the skull beneath. Lightning and firstlight blasted through it, and the hound exploded into smoking smithereens.
Bryce and Hunt hit the ground panting and steaming, soaked with the Shepherd’s blood. But Hunt was up again in a moment, running, a hand on Bryce’s back as he hauled her with him. “The river,” he panted, lightning skittering across his teeth, his cheeks. His wings drooped like he was wholly exhausted. Like flying was beyond him.
Bryce didn’t waste breath to answer as they raced through the mist toward the Istros.
“Two more Vanir bodies this morning, Your Excellency,” Tharion said by way of greeting, bowing at the waist as he stood in his queen’s private study.
It was more biodome than study, really, full of plants and a deep, winding stream, studded with large pools. The River Queen swam among the lily pads, her black hair trailing like ink in the water behind her. Her day of meetings might require her to be inside the building, but she took all of them here, sitting in her element.
She turned toward Tharion, hair plastered down her ample, heavy breasts, her brown skin gleaming with water. “Tell me where.” Her voice was lovely, but subdued. Cold.
“One left hanging upside down in an olive grove north of the city—drained and shot the same way as the selkie—the other crucified on the tree next to him. Also shot, with a slit throat. They’d clearly been tortured. Two human scents were present. Seems like this happened yesterday.”
He’d gotten the report this morning over breakfast. Hadn’t bothered to go to the sites or ask Holstrom to come with him, not when the Aux had been the ones to get the call, and would be the ones to handle the bodies.
“And you still believe the rebel Pippa Spetsos is behind these killings.”
“The style is in line with what her Lightfall squad does to its victims. I think she’s on Emile Renast’s trail, and is torturing anyone who helped him on his way.”
“Is the boy here, then?”
“Considering the proximity of the latest site, I have good reason to believe he has arrived.” An otter looped and twirled past the windows, a message clenched in his fangs, neon-yellow vest glaringly bright in the cobalt blue.
“And Sofie Renast?” The River Queen toyed with a pink-and-gold lily that brushed against her soft stomach, running her elegant fingers over its petals. “Any sightings of her?”
“Not a ripple.” No need to mention Bryce and Athalar going to the Bone Quarter for answers. There was nothing to tell yet. He could only hope the two of them would emerge alive.
“The Hind is here, in Lunathion. Do you believe she’s also tracking Emile?”
“She’s only arrived today.” He’d gotten reports already that her wolves prowled the city, along with the Harpy. At least the Hawk, his spies said, had remained behind in Pangera, left to guard Ephraim’s roost, apparently. “Her whereabouts have been public for the last few days—she doesn’t have a human scent, and also wasn’t in the city to commit these murders. All signs point to Pippa Spetsos.”
The river-spirit plucked the lily and tucked it behind her ear. It glowed as if lit by a kernel of firstlight. “Find that boy, Tharion.”
He bowed his head. “What about Ophion Command? If they find out we have Emile …”
“Make sure they don’t find out.” Her eyes darkened, and storms threatened. Lightning lashed the surface high above. “We are loyal to the House of Many Waters first and foremost.”
“Why the boy?” he finally dared ask. “Why do you want him so badly?”
“You question me?” Only the Ocean Queen, Lady of Waters, Daughter of Ogenas, had that right. Or the Asteri. Tharion bowed.
Lightning illuminated the surface again, and Tharion’s brows lowered. That wasn’t his queen’s power. And since the forecast hadn’t called for storms …