* * *
His sister was gone. Ruhn looked at Bryce’s face and knew she was dead. Beyond dead.
He had no sound in his mind. Lidia stood beside him, her hand in his, her sons behind them. The boys had been the ones who’d convinced him to come back—had refused to go another step until they helped in some way.
But none of it had made a difference. Even Athalar’s lightning hadn’t revived Bryce.
And then Hypaxia had stepped forward, wearing that crown of bones. Somehow, she was now the Head of the House of Flame and Shadow. Offering to help.
“She’ll never forgive me if you raise her into some shadow of herself,” Hunt said, voice strained with tears, with his screams.
“I’m not proposing to raise her,” Hypaxia assured him.
Hunt dragged his hands through his hair. “She doesn’t have a soul—I mean, she does, but she sold it to the Under-King, so if that’s what you need, then you’re shit out of luck—”
“The Under-King is gone,” Hypaxia said. Ruhn’s knees wobbled. “Any bargains he made with the living or the dead are now null and void. Bryce’s soul is hers to do with as she wills.”
“Please—help her,” Ruhn blurted, desperate. “Help her if you can.”
Hypaxia met his eyes, then looked to Lidia beside him, their hands linked. She smiled.
Athalar whispered, “Anything. Whatever you need, I’ll give anything.”
The witch looked down at Bryce, and said to Athalar, “Not a sacrifice. A trade.”
She beckoned behind her, summoning Jesiba Roga to her side.
* * *
Hunt stared at the sorceress, but Roga was only gazing at Bryce.
“Oh, Quinlan,” Roga said, and there were tears gathering on her lashes.
“Priestess,” Apollion hissed, and Roga lifted eyes brimming with disdain and disgust to the Prince of the Pit.
“Still wondering if I’m going to do anything with those books?” Roga snapped at Apollion. She pointed to Bryce, dead on the ground. “Don’t you think if they had some power, I’d be using it right now to save that girl?”
Apollion glowered at her. “You’re a born liar, priestess—”
“We don’t have much time,” Hypaxia interrupted, and even the Prince of the Pit halted at the command in her voice. “We need to act before too much damage is done to her body.”
“Please,” Ruhn rasped, “just explain. I know you said we didn’t need to, but if we can offer something—”
“It is for me to offer,” Jesiba said, and looked down again at Bryce. Tears covered the sorceress’s cheeks. Priestess, Apollion had called her.
“To offer what?” Lidia asked.
“My life,” Roga said. “My long, wicked life.” She raised her eyes to Apollion again.
“That is not possible,” Apollion said.
“You cursed me,” Jesiba said, and as puzzled as Hunt was, he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. “You cursed me to immortality. Now I’m making it a gift: the gift of a Vanir’s long life. I give it freely to Bryce Quinlan, if she wants it.”
Apollion snapped, “That curse is for the living.”
“Then it is a good thing I have a way with the dead,” Hypaxia declared.
Perhaps for the first time in his existence, Apollion looked surprised. Aidas asked, “Is … is such a thing possible?”
Hunt said, “I offer my life, then.”
“What would be the point?” Jesiba said, laughing harshly. “Save her, only to be dead yourself?”
“You … you’ll die?” Ruhn blurted.
Jesiba smiled softly. “After fifteen thousand years, I’ve had my fill of Midgard.”
“We must do it now,” Hypaxia said. “I can feel her thinning.”
Hunt didn’t like that word one bit, so he said to Jesiba, “Thank you. I never knew that Quinlan … that she meant anything to you.”
Jesiba’s brows rose, and a bit of the prickly sorceress he knew returned. “Of course she does. Do you know how hard it is to find a competent assistant?”
Hunt was beyond laughter, though. “Thank you,” he said again. “I … I hope you find peace.”
Jesiba’s face bloomed in a smile, and it was perhaps the first true one he’d ever seen from her. “I’ve already found it, Athalar. Thanks to you both.” With a nod to him and Bryce, she walked up to Hypaxia and offered her hand. “Lead the House of Flame and Shadow back to the light,” she said to the witch, who bowed her head.