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January 29 - February 2, 2024
Rhysand, he’d called himself. The one who looked so much like Ruhn.
Some said to another world, others said they’d moved on to distant lands, still others said they’d been chosen by the Cauldron and spirited away somewhere.”
The Starborn—Theia, their queen, and Pelias, the traitor-prince who’d usurped her. Theia had brought two daughters with her into Midgard: Helena, who’d been forced to wed Pelias, and another, whose name had been lost to history.
Here, they were called the Daglan.”
Bryce could have sworn shadows wreathed him, like Ruhn’s, yet … wilder. The way Cormac’s had been.
“The glowing letters inked on her back … they’re the same as those in the Book of Breathings.”
The Viper Queen slid one of her gold-painted nails down her wrist.
but in the shadows behind Pollux, beyond the fireplace, something dark moved. Something darker than shadow.
This shadow was different—darker, older. Watching them.
She didn’t even want to wade into the tangle of how time might pass faster or slower on this world.
somehow coming back to Midgard with her and kicking ass
Nesta tossed her a leather-wrapped canteen. “Do yourself a favor and drink before you pass out again.”
“You’re a born killer—like any true witch. That girl on the throne is as softhearted as your mother. She’ll bring down the entire Valbaran witch-dynasty.”
Ironteeth brutality
“Yes, Hilde. We all know how skilled you are. Athalar himself can thank you for his first halo.
Black tongues tasted the air between flesh-shredding, clear teeth. Like the kristallos, bred and raised for eons in darkness—
Watching a shadow watch him back.
The shadow smiled at him. So Hunt smiled back. And then the shadow spoke. “You would do well in Hel.”
“What delicious pain you feel.”
Valg
to accomplish the task for which your father brought you into existence,”
Fae kneeling before impossibly tall, robed humanoids, glowing bits of starlight in their upraised hands. Magic.
Rhys didn’t know this tunnel existed. He certainly didn’t know there were carvings down here.”
“My powers are unusual amongst the High Fae.” “High Fae? As opposed to … normal Fae?” Nesta shrugged. “They use the High part to make themselves sound more important than they are.”
“I slew one of their contemporaries, though. About seven months ago.” Bryce’s brows rose. “So not an Asteri—Daglan, I mean?” Azriel shifted. Nesta glanced sidelong at him, marking the movement, but said to Bryce, “I don’t think so. The creature—Lanthys—was a breed unto himself. He was … horrible.”
“Gwyn and Emerie are waiting,” Azriel pushed. “And Feyre and Elain.” The silver flame flared at that. Then Azriel said, “Nyx is waiting, too.” The silver flame went out entirely. The Mask fell from Nesta’s face, clattering on the stone.
“There’s a portrait hidden inside its encasing,” Nesta added. “Of you and three females.”
Dying
“The phone?” The word couldn’t be translated into their language, and it sounded outright silly in their accent. But Nesta nodded, her eyes fixed on the tunnel ahead. “Trying to figure out what it does has been driving us all crazy.”
Azriel said softly, voice tinged with pain, “She looks like Rhysand’s sister.”
a black-haired, white-skinned Asteri. There was no mistaking the cold, otherworldly eyes. She lounged in golden robes, a crown of stars upon her head. Her red lips pulled back in a cold smile as her hand closed tightly around the seed of power.
Looks like Amren
golden-haired High Fae female standing a step behind the Asteri’s throne. Her chin was lifted, her face as cold as her mistress’s. My mother served at that monster’s side for a century, a slave to her every sick whim
The Dread Trove, we called it in secret. The Mask, the Harp, the Crown, and the Horn.
creatures whose very magic was tied to this land. Thus the land’s powers became my mother’s. Dusk, twilight—that’s what the island was in its long-buried heart, what her power bloomed into, the lands rising with it.
Dusk court
Some winged, some not. We were not the only beings to come to this world hoping to claim it. We would learn too late that the other peoples had been lured by the Daglan under similarly friendly guises. And that they, too, had come armed and ready to fight for these lands. But before conflict could erupt between us all, we found that Midgard was already occupied.
We were still waging our war on the humans when the door between worlds opened again. More Fae appeared—from another world this time.
They were Fae like us, but not. The ears, the grace, the strength were identical, but they were shape-shifters, all of them. Each capable of turning into an animal. And each, even in their humanoid body, equipped with elongated canine teeth.
Throne of glass Fae
In the back of her mind, Bryce marveled at it: that the wolves, the shifters … they had once been Fae. So similar to Bryce’s sort of Fae, yet so different—
Wolf tribe of Terrasen
Bryce bore Theia’s light through Helena’s line. And this light … it was Theia’s light through Silene. Two sisters, united at last. But Silene’s light, now mixed with Bryce’s … It was light,
She searched beyond Bryce, her gaze falling upon Azriel. Her lips curled. “A foot soldier. Excellent. Kill this insolent female and free me.”
Illyrian’s were made by the Asteri to be foot soldiers, precursor to the angels
Asteri slowly climb out, like a hatching spider.
It’s giving Valg
To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.”
Vesperus’s red mouth opened in joy and triumph, but no sound came out. Only black blood.
BLACK BLOOD?! Valg Asteri are Valg??
you managed to reach a place I have long desired to go.” He glanced up at the orrery.
The Autumn King knew about their home world
The timelines between their worlds were similar, then.
No time travel thank goodness
Ruhn was well and truly crying then.
Hearing his friends voice 🥹
Ruhn couldn’t help but admire the symbolism of it, for the only race of Vanir who’d universally stood with Athalar during the Fallen rebellion to have lit this match.
Fire sprites 🥺
Her golden eyes were framed by thick, dark lashes. A slice of darker gold slashed up between her eyes like a lick of flame.
“The knife can Unmake things. Made and Unmade. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power—a command from the one destined to wield them—they can be merged. And they can create a place where no life, no light exists. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.”
“Amelie Ravenscroft claimed that Micah said the library held two thousand years of human knowledge before the Asteri.”
“Why not sell them?” She gave him a withering look. “Because my spells are written in there. I’m not letting that knowledge loose in the world.”
why I have the Archesian amulets that the Parthos priestesses wore.”
“But … I thought you were a witch.” She shrugged. “I was, for a time. How do you categorize a human woman who stops aging? Who always reverts to the same age, the same physical condition as she was when she was cursed? I’d cherished my years with my fellow priestesses at Parthos. When the witch-dynasties rose, I thought I might find similar companionship with them. A home.” “You … you were a priestess at Parthos?”
