House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City, #2)

“We can simply drift up or down, to avoid it.” She pointed again. “Here they come.”

Ruhn’s heart leapt into his throat. Athalar’s lightning snaked along his body once more. Bryce muttered something to him that apparently did nothing to calm the angel down.

But Ruhn was too busy monitoring the enemy’s approach. Like a wolf stepping from the shadows of a kelp forest, the Omega-boat stalked for the canyon. Its firstlights blared into the dark, broadcasting its location.

People continued walking past, a few glancing to the enemy closing in, but not paying it much mind.

What the actual fuck.

The imperial ship plunged right after them. A wolf on the hunt, indeed.

“Watch,” Sendes said.

Ruhn held his breath, as if it’d somehow keep them from detection, as the Omega-boat crept closer. A slow, strategic sweep.

He could make out the paint along its sides—the imperial insignia flaking off—the slices and dents from previous battles. Along its hull was written, SPQM Faustus.

“The Faustus,” Tharion breathed, dread in his voice.

“You know the ship?” Sendes asked him.

“Heard of it,” Tharion said, monitoring the warship inching past. Utterly unaware of them. “That vessel alone has downed sixteen rebel ships.”

“At least they sent someone impressive after us this time,” Sendes said.

Tharion ran a hand through his damp hair, claws retracting. “They’re drifting right by us. This is incredible.”

Cormac grunted, stirring in Ruhn’s arms, “Does Ophion know about this?”

Sendes stiffened. “We are not aligned with Ophion.” Thank fuck. Bryce sagged, and Hunt’s lightning dimmed slightly.

“What about the Asteri? Are they aware of this technology?” Ruhn asked, gesturing to the boat around them, now vanishing into the deep, the Omega-boat blindly passing overhead.

Sendes continued walking, and they followed her. “No. And given the circumstances under which we found you, I trust you will not pass on the information. Just as we shall keep your presence confidential.”

You fuck us, we’ll fuck you. “Got it,” Ruhn said, offering a smile that Sendes didn’t return. The ship began drifting farther into the canyon’s depths.

“Here she is,” Sendes announced as a medwitch came running, a team of three with a stretcher close behind her.

“Cthona spare me,” Cormac muttered, managing to lift his head. “I don’t need all that.”

“Yes, you do,” Tharion and Ruhn said together.

If the medwitch and her team recognized any of them, they didn’t let on. The next few minutes were a flurry of getting Cormac onto the stretcher and bustled to the medical center, with a promise that he’d be out of surgery within an hour and they could see him soon after that.

Through it all, Bryce kept back with Athalar. Lightning still skimmed over his wings, sparked at his fingertips.

Calm down, Ruhn said into Athalar’s mind.

Thunderstorms boomed in answer.

All right, then.

The city-ship began sailing along the floor of the canyon, the seabed unusually flat and broad between the towering cliffs. They passed a half-crumbling pillar, and—

“Are those carvings?” Ruhn asked as Sendes led them back down the hall.

“Yes,” she said a shade softly. “From long, long ago.”

Tharion said, “What was down here?” He scanned the passing walls of the canyon floor—all of them carved with strange symbols.

“This was a highway. Not as you will find above the surface, but a grand avenue the mer once used to swim between great cities.”

“I never heard of anything out here.”

“It’s from long ago,” she said again, a bit tightly. Like it was a secret.

Bryce said from the back, “I used to work in an antiquities gallery, and my boss once brought in a statue from a sunken city. I always thought she was fudging the dates, but she said it was almost fifteen thousand years old. That it came from the original Beneath.” As old as the Asteri—or at least their arrival in Midgard.

Sendes’s expression remained neutral. “Only the Ocean Queen can verify that.”

Ruhn peered through the glass again. “So the mer once had a city down here?”

“We once had many things,” Sendes said.

Tharion shook his head at Ruhn, a silent warning to lay off the subject. Ruhn nodded back. “Where are we going, exactly?” Ruhn asked instead.

“I assume you want to rest for a moment. I’m bringing you to private quarters in our barracks.”

“And from there?” Ruhn dared ask.

“We need to wait until the Omegas have cleared the area, but once that has happened, we’ll return you wherever you wish.”

“The mouth of the Istros,” Tharion said. “My people can meet us there.”

“Very well. We shall likely arrive at dawn, given our need for secrecy.”

“Get me a radio and I’ll put out a coded signal.”

She nodded, and Ruhn admired the mers’ innate trust in one another. Would she have so easily let him use a radio to contact anyone beyond this ship? He doubted it.

But Bryce halted at the hallway intersection. Glanced at Hunt before saying to Sendes, “You mind if me and my glowing friend here go into the biodome for a while?”

Sendes warily considered Hunt. “I’ll close it to the public temporarily. As long as he does no harm in there.”

Hunt bared his teeth, but Bryce smiled tightly. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

Sendes’s gaze drifted down to the scar on her chest. “When you are done, ask for Barracks Six, and someone will point you that way.”

“Thanks,” Bryce said, then pivoted to Ruhn and Tharion. “Stay out of trouble.”

“You too,” Ruhn said, arching a brow.

Then Bryce was walking toward the lush biodome, Hunt trailing, lightning in his wake.

Sendes pulled a radio from her pocket. “Clear the biodome and seal off its doors.”

Ruhn started. “What?”

Sendes continued onward, boots clicking on the tiled floors. “I think she and the angel should have a little privacy, don’t you?”





46

There was only his power, and Bryce. The rest of the world had become an array of threats to her.

Hunt had the vague notion of being brought onto an enormous mer ship. Of talking with its commander, and noticing the people and the Omega-boat and Cormac being wheeled off.

His mind had drifted, riding some storm without end, his magic screaming to be unleashed. He’d ascended into this plane of existence, of primal savagery, the moment the Hind had appeared. He knew he had to take her out, if it meant getting Bryce to safety. Had decided that it didn’t matter if Danaan or Cormac or Tharion got cooked in the process.

He couldn’t turn away from that precipice.

Even as Bryce walked down a quiet, warm hallway toward a lush forest—pines and ferns and flowers; birds and butterflies of every color; little streams and waterfalls—he couldn’t settle.

He needed his magic out, needed to scream his wrath and then hold her and know she was fine, they were fine—