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

Ruhn broke the balls with a thunderous crack, starting the next round. The three and seven balls landed in opposite pockets—solids, then.

Cormac pulled a small quartz crystal from his pocket and tossed it to Ruhn. “It’s all hypothetical right now, given that we’ve never worked with someone like you. But first try to contact Daybright by holding this. Daybright has the sister to this comm-crystal. It possesses the same communicative properties as the Gates in this city.”

The comm-crystal was warm against Ruhn’s skin as he pocketed it. “How does it work?”

“That’s how our radios reached Daybright. Seven crystals all hewn from one rock—six in radios in our possession, the seventh in Daybright’s radio. They’re beacons—on the same precise frequency. Always desiring to connect into one whole again. This crystal is the last one that remains of our six. The other five were destroyed for safety. I’m hoping that if someone with your powers holds it in your hand, it might link you with Daybright when you cast your mind out. The same way the Gates here can send audio between them.”

Cormac’s gaze had gone hazy—pained. And Ruhn found himself asking, “Is this crystal from Sofie’s radio?”

“Yes.” Cormac’s voice thickened. “She gave it to Command before she went into Kavalla. They gave it to me when I mentioned I might know someone who could use it.”

Ruhn weighed the grief, the pain in his cousin’s face before he softened his tone. “Sofie sounds like a remarkable person.”

“She was. Is.” Cormac’s throat bobbed. “I need to find her. And Emile.”

“You love her?”

Cormac’s eyes burned with flame. “I don’t try to delude myself into thinking that my father would ever approve of a union with a part-human—especially one with no fortune or name. But yes. I was hoping to find a way to spend my life with her.”

“You really think she’s here, trying to meet up with Emile?”

“The mer didn’t rule it out. Why should I?” Again those walls rose in Cormac’s eyes. “If your sister knows anything about whether Danika found a hiding place for them, I need to know.”

Ruhn noted the faint hint of desperation—of dread and panic—and decided to put his cousin out of his misery. “We suspect Danika might have told Sofie to lie low in the Bone Quarter,” he said.

Alarm flared across Cormac’s face, but he nodded his gratitude to Ruhn. “Then we will need to find a way to secure safe passage there—and find some way to search unseen and undisturbed.”

Well, Ruhn needed a drink. Thank Urd they were already in a bar. “All right.” He surveyed his cousin, the perfect blond hair and handsome face. “For what it’s worth, if we can find Sofie, I think you should marry her, if she feels the same way about you. Don’t let your father tie you into some betrothal you don’t want.”

Cormac didn’t smile. He observed Ruhn with the same clear-eyed scrutiny and said, “The witch-queen Hypaxia is beautiful and wise. You could do far worse, you know.”

“I know.” That was as much as Ruhn would say about it.

She was beautiful. Stunningly, distractingly beautiful. But she had zero interest in him. She’d made that clear in the months after the Summit. He didn’t entirely blame her. Even if he’d had a glimpse of what life might have been like with her. Like peering through a keyhole.

Cormac cleared his throat. “When you connect with Daybright, say this to confirm your identity.”

As his cousin rattled off the code phrases, Ruhn made shot after shot, until only two balls remained and he blew an easy one and scratched the cue ball to give his cousin a chance. He didn’t know why he bothered.

Cormac handed the cue ball back to him. “I don’t want a pity win.”

Ruhn rolled his eyes but took the ball back, making another shot. “Is there any intel I should be asking Daybright about?”

“For months now, we’ve been trying to coordinate a hit on the Spine. Daybright is our main source of information regarding when and where to strike.”

The Spine—the north-south railway that cut Pangera in half. The main artery for supplies in this war.

“Why risk the hit?” Ruhn asked. “To disrupt the supply lines?”

“That, and Daybright’s been getting whispers for months now about the Asteri working on some sort of new mech-suit prototype.”

“Different from the mech-suits the humans use?”

“Yes. This is a mech-suit designed for Vanir to pilot. For the imperial armies.”

“Fuck.” He could only imagine how dangerous they’d be.

“Exactly,” Cormac said. He checked his watch. “I need to head toward the Black Dock—I want to know if there’s any hint that Emile or Sofie have been there. But contact Daybright as soon as you can. We need to intercept the Vanir suit prototype to study its technology before it can be used to slaughter us.”

Ruhn nodded, resigned. “All right. I’ll help you.”

“Your friends will not be pleased. Athalar in particular.”

“Leave Athalar to me.” He didn’t answer to the angel. Though his sister …

Cormac observed him once more. “When you want out, I’ll get you out. I promise.”

Ruhn sank his last ball into his chosen pocket and leaned the stick against the concrete wall. “I’ll hold you to that.”





20

The water dripping from Tharion’s wave skimmer onto the plastic floor of the dry dock in the Blue Court was the only sound as he repaired the vehicle. His sweat dripped along with it, despite the chamber’s cool temperature. He’d stripped off his shirt within minutes of arriving here, even its soft cotton too confining against his skin as he worked. Reeds had gotten stuck in the engine during his trip out to the marshes the other day, and though the engineering team could have easily fixed the issue, he’d wanted to do it himself.

Wanted to give his mind some time to sort everything out.

When he’d awoken that morning, talking to the Prince of the Chasm—pretending to be a cat, for Urd’s sake—hadn’t been remotely near the list of possibilities for his day. Nor had finding out that an Avallen prince was an Ophion rebel searching for Sofie Renast’s younger brother. Or that Danika Fendyr had sent Sofie to gather some vital intel on the Asteri. No, he’d awoken with only one goal: learn what Ithan Holstrom knew.

A whole lot of nothing, apparently.

Some Captain of Intelligence. Captain Whatever, Holstrom had called him. Tharion was half-inclined to get it etched into a plaque for his desk.

But at least Holstrom had agreed to help out should Tharion need his nose to find the kid. If Pippa Spetsos was hunting for Emile as Cormac had claimed, politics and Sofie and his queen aside … they needed to find the kid first. If only to spare him from being forced to use those thunderbird powers in horrible ways. Holstrom would be a valuable asset in that endeavor.

And besides—the wolf seemed like he needed something to do.