The Mistress of the Mystics had scuttled off as soon as Lidia had stalked through the doors to the dank hall—surely to grouse to Rigelus about Lidia’s unexpected arrival. She’d ordered Lidia to wait at the front desk.
Lidia had lingered long enough to ensure the mistress had indeed left, then promptly ignored her order.
“Irithys,” Lidia said to the sprite lying on the bottom of the crystal ball. Curled on her side, the queen remained asleep. Or pretended to be. “I need your help.”
The Sprite Queen cracked open an eye. “To torture more people?”
“To torture me.”
Irithys opened both eyes this time. Slowly sat up. “What?”
Lidia brought her face close to the crystal and said quietly, “There is an angel in the dungeon. Hunt Athalar.”
Irithys sucked in a breath—she knew him. How could she not, as one of the Fallen in her own way? Though Irithys hadn’t fought in the failed rebellion, she’d been born into the consequences: heir to a damned people, a queen enslaved upon the moment of her crowning. She’d know every key player in the saga—know every decision that had led to the punishment that rippled across generations of sprites.
“He has begun the fight anew. And this spring, a sprite befriended him; she died to save his mate. Her name was Lehabah. She claimed to be a descendent of Queen Ranthia Drahl.” Just as Lidia had seen the footage of Athalar slaying Sandriel, so, too, had she witnessed the final stand of the fire sprite who had saved Bryce Quinlan. Rigelus had considered it imperative that Lidia know everything about the threat to the Asteri’s power.
Irithys’s eyes widened at the mention of their long-dead queen’s line. The bloodline believed gone. The queen whose decision to rebel alongside Athalar and his Archangel had led to this enslaved fate for all sprites, for Irithys herself. But she said evenly, “So?”
Lidia said, “I need you to help me free Hunt Athalar and two of his companions.”
Irithys stood, flame a mistrusting yellow. “Is this another warm-up?”
Lidia didn’t have time for lies, for games. “The warm-up with Hilde was a test. Not to see what you could do, but who you are.”
The queen’s head angled. The yellow hue remained.
Lidia said, “To see if you were as honorable as I had hoped. As trustworthy.”
“For what?” The sprite spat the words, sparks of pure red flying from her.
“To help me with a diversion—one that might save more lives than the three in the dungeon.”
Irithys sniffed. “You are Rigelus’s pet.” She waved with a burning hand to the mystics slumbering in their tanks. “No better than them, obeying him in all things. They would lie if he commanded them to. Would drown themselves, if he so much as breathed the word.”
“I can explain later. Right now I only have”—she choked on the word—“trust to offer.”
“What of the cameras?” Irithys glanced to the ever-watchful eyes mounted throughout the space.
“I have people in my employ who have ensured that they are looking elsewhere right now,” Lidia said, praying that it was true.
And with an appeal to Luna, she tapped the crystal ball, dissolving it. She still had the access Rigelus had granted in her blood to open the ball—she could still make this happen.
She’d intended to use the Sprite Queen to attempt to melt the gorsian shackles off Ruhn, Baxian, and Athalar, but things had changed. She needed Irithys for something far bigger.
Irithys stood in the open air, arms crossed, now a familiar, wary orange shade. “And this?” She gestured to the ink on her neck.
Lidia said quietly, as calmly as she could, “I made a bargain with Hilde for her freedom. She need only do one favor for me when the time comes, and she’ll walk free.”
Irithys angled her head again. “And the part about me torturing you …？”
“Will come after that. To make it believable.”
“Make what believable?”
Lidia checked her watch. Not much time. “I need to know if you’re in or out.”
To her credit, the Sprite Queen didn’t waste time. Lidia held her stare, and let the queen see all that lay beneath it. Surprise lit Irithys’s face … but she nodded slowly, turning a determined hue of ruby.
“Get the hag,” the queen said.
* * *
It was a matter of a few minutes to get Hilde brought down. The guards didn’t question the Hind, and her luck had held—the mistress was still off complaining to Rigelus.