“No armies from Midgard,” Bryce said. “We don’t have the time for that, anyway.”
Hypaxia pulled on a tightly coiled curl. “What, then?”
Bryce’s eyes seemed to glow. “I need you to make an antidote for the Asteri’s parasite.”
Hypaxia blinked slowly. That bit of Bryce’s story had been the hardest to swallow. That they were all infected by something in the water, their magic cut off at the knees.
Bryce pushed on, “You figured out an antidote for the synth, Hypaxia. I need you to do it again. Help us level up before we take on the Asteri. Get us free of their restraints.”
“You place an awful lot of faith in my abilities. I’ll need to study the parasite before I can even start mapping out the properties of an antidote—”
“We don’t have time for the full-blown scientific method,” Bryce said.
“I’d hesitate to give you anything that hadn’t been fully tested,” Hypaxia countered.
“We don’t have that luxury,” Athalar said firmly. “Anything you can rig up, even if it’s temporary, even if it just holds the parasite at bay for a bit …”
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” Hypaxia said, but Ithan could see the ideas gleaming in her eyes. “And I’d need a lab. Considering the state of Avallen after your … claiming of it, I don’t think there’s anything here I could use.”
“And no power, anyway,” Bryce said. “So you’ll have to head back to the Lunathion House of Flame and Shadow—it seems like you guys will be hidden and protected there. Especially if Jesiba’s around.”
Ithan hadn’t told Bryce about who—what—Jesiba really was. That was Jesiba’s secret to tell.
Her words settled. Ithan said, “What do you mean you guys? I don’t know shit about science. I can’t help Hypaxia with this.”
“You know how to fight,” Athalar said. “And defend. Hypaxia will need someone to guard her while she works.”
Ithan turned to Bryce, who was watching him with a grim expression. “But Sigrid—”
“We need that antidote, Ithan,” Bryce said gently, but firmly. “More than anything. Hunt will give you the lightning for Sigrid, but we need that antidote first.” She added to Hypaxia, “As fast as you can make it.”
Hypaxia and Bryce stared at each other for a long moment. “Very well,” Hypaxia said, inclining her head.
Ithan closed his eyes. To abandon his quest, to leave Sigrid as a Reaper …
But his friends needed him. They were asking for his help. To deny them, even if it was to save Sigrid … He’d already screwed up Sigrid’s life. He wouldn’t do the same to his friends.
So Ithan opened his eyes and said, “When do we head back to Crescent City?”
Bryce’s face remained grim as she said, “Right now.”
“Now?” Hypaxia said, the first bit of shock she’d shown.
“That boat’s still waiting for you,” Athalar said, pointing to the ocean in the distance. “We’ll go get the crystals from the others, and I’ll fire up the stones. Once I bring them back here, get on that boat and sail for Lunathion.”
“And if—when—I come up with an antidote to the parasite?” Hypaxia asked Bryce and Hunt. “How do I contact you?”
“Call us,” Bryce said. “If you can’t reach us, get the antidote to the Eternal City. There’s a fleet of mech-suits on Mount Hermon—hide near there, and we’ll find you.”
“When, though?”
Bryce’s face hardened. “You’ll know when it’s too late to help us.”
Ithan started, “Bryce—”
But Bryce nodded toward the glimmering sea. “As fast as you can,” she repeated to the former witch-queen. “I’m begging you.”
With that, she walked to Athalar, and he leapt into the skies, flying them in the direction the others had headed.
There was no chance to talk to Tharion or Flynn or Dec. No chance to even say goodbye. From the way Hypaxia was watching the angel and Bryce vanish toward the distant ruins, he suspected she was thinking the same thing about Lidia.
Twenty minutes later, Bryce and Athalar were back, half a dozen quartz crystals sizzling in the angel’s hands. Bottled lightning.
Hypaxia pocketed them, promising to use them well. Bryce kissed her cheek, then Ithan’s.
Once, he would have done anything for that kiss. But now it left him hollow, reeling.