Bryce lifted a hand wreathed in starlight, casting the room in silver. In the space where Thanatos’s hologram had been, only a black pit remained.
The male mystic jerked violently, submerging and arching upward. Red liquid splashed. The other two lay still as death. The machine began blaring and beeping, and the Astronomer halted his praying to rush to the controls. “He has snared him,” the male gasped, hands shaking.
Bryce flared her light brighter as the feed began running again.
It has been a long while since a mortal fly buzzed all the way down to Hel. I will taste this one’s soul, as I once sipped from them like fine wine.
Frost spread over the floor. The male mystic arched again, thin arms flailing, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.
“Cut him loose!” Bryce barked.
Please, the mystic begged.
How sad and lonely and desperate you are. You taste of rainwater.
Please, please.
A little more. Just a taste.
The Astronomer began typing. Alarms wailed.
“What’s happening?” Tharion shouted. Down below, the ice crept over the other two mystics in their tubs.
The prince continued, You have gone too deep. I think I shall keep you.
The male thrashed, sending waves of red water cascading into the void below.
“Turn off the machines,” Ithan ordered.
“I cannot—not without the proper extraction. His mind might shatter.”
Bryce protested, “He’s fucked if you don’t.”
The Prince of the Ravine said, I do not care for my brothers’ agenda. I do not heed their rules and restraints and illusions of civilization. I shall taste all of you like this—you and your masters—once the door between our worlds is again open. Starting with you, Starborn.
Ice exploded across the walls, crusting over the submerged mystics. The machines groaned, planets flickering, and then—
Every firstlight and piece of tech went out. Even Bryce’s starlight vanished. Bryce swore. “What—”
The Astronomer panted in the darkness. Buttons clacked hollowly. “Their respirators—”
Bryce yanked out her phone and fumbled for its light. It was dead. Another curse from Tharion, and she knew his was, too. Every muscle and tendon in her body went taut.
Shimmering, golden light glowed from the Astronomer’s upraised hand. The fire sprites trapped in his rings simmered steadily.
Apparently, it was all Ithan needed to see by as he launched himself over the rail and aimed for the male’s iced-over tub. He landed gracefully, balancing his feet on either side. A pound of his fist had the ice cracking.
The male was convulsing, no doubt drowning without a functioning respirator. Ithan hauled him up, ripping the mask from his face. A long feeding tube followed. The male gagged and spasmed, but Ithan propped him over the rim, lest he slide back under.
Leaping with that athletic grace, Ithan reached the tub in the middle, freeing the mystic within. Then on to the female in the third.
The Astronomer was shrieking, but it seemed Ithan barely heard the words. The three mystics shook, soft cries trembling from their blue mouths. Bryce shook with them, and Tharion put a hand on her back.
Something groaned below, and the lights sputtered back on. Metal whined. The floor began to rise, pulling toward the tubs again. The sun fixture descended from the ceiling as the Astronomer hobbled down the walkway, cursing.
“You had no right to pull them out, no right—”
“They would have drowned!” Bryce launched into motion, storming after the male. Tharion stalked a step behind her.
The female stirred as the slate floor locked into place around the tubs. On reed-thin arms, she raised up her chest, blinking blearily at Ithan, then the room.
“Back,” the mystic wheezed, her voice broken and raspy. Unused for years. Her dark eyes filled with pleading. “Send me back.”
“The Prince of the Ravine was about to rip apart your friend’s soul,” Ithan said, kneeling before her.
“Send me back!” she screamed, the words barely more than a hoarse screech. “Back!”
Not to Hel, Bryce knew—not to the Prince of the Ravine. But into the watery, weightless existence. Ithan got to his feet, inching away.
“Get out,” the Astronomer seethed, hurrying toward his mystics. “All of you.”
Bryce reached the bottom of the ramp, the Astronomer’s still-glowing rings blazing bright. Fury boiled in her chest. “You would have sacrificed them—”
“BACK!” the female screamed again. The other two mystics stirred to consciousness, moaning. Bryce reached Ithan’s side and looped her arm through his, pulling him toward the doors. The wolf gaped at the mystics, the mess they’d made.