House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City, #3)

by Sarah J. Maas

“You’re my home, Hunt. Our love spans across stars and worlds, remember?” She smiled slightly. “I’ll always find you.”

Brann, golden-haired and blue-eyed,

Didn’t balk from it as Actaeon, dark-haired and golden-eyed, did.

Then Sasa met Bryce’s stare. And said without an ounce of fear, “We will find Irithys.” The sprites burned to a deep, true blue. “And fight with her against the Asteri when the time comes.”

Hunt’s brows rose. “How can the mists possibly keep a wall up against the Asteri?” “The better question is why would the Asteri leave Avallen alone for so long if it is capable of keeping them out.”

From the corner of his eye, Ithan caught Jesiba’s smirk. “Hypaxia,” the sorceress said. “Just the necromancer I was looking for.”

say, Do not fucking breathe a word about that. Ithan returned her a look, as if to say, Do you think I’m that dumb? She glanced pointedly at his CCU SUNBALL T-shirt.

I chuckled

I am Queen of the Valbaran Witches no longer.” She touched her breast, where her usual golden pin of Cthona was broken in two. “To escape their executioners, I have sworn fealty to the House of Flame and Shadow.”

“I have it on good authority that Hypaxia was … not pleased when she found out that Celestina had sold out your friends. But even that betrayal didn’t open Hypaxia’s eyes enough to see Morganthia’s move coming.”

Ithan reeled. “I’m nobody.” Jesiba gave him a disdainful look,

Lidia seemed to grasp the general direction of her thoughts, because she said quietly, “I never had anyone to fight for me.” Well, that did it. Bryce opened her mouth, rallying power to her star, but Tharion spoke from behind them. “I’ll marry Sathia.”

Stitches popping, Sigrid slowly turned her head. But her chest … it didn’t rise and fall. She wasn’t breathing. The lost Fendyr heir opened her eyes. They burned an acid green. “Reaper,” Jesiba breathed.

Toward the red-haired female in the center of the group. “I’ve never had a leader to stir the sentiment.” Morven noted the direction of her gaze and scowled. “You’re a fool to follow her.” Lidia gave him a sidelong look, pushing off the stone wall of the balcony. “You’re a fool not to,” she said quietly, striding for the archway into the castle proper. “It will be your doom. And Avallen’s.”

“An eight-pointed star,”

Light it up.

wasn’t good enough for him to go along with things. She needed Hunt, all of him, fighting at her side.

Aidas was smiling faintly—joy and hope brightening his remarkable eyes. “It seems you got a little lost on your way to find me, Bryce Quinlan. But welcome to Hel.”

Hunt’s lightning sparked, illuminating the whole city and river. Apollion lifted a hand. Pure, sizzling lightning danced around it, arcing out to meet Hunt’s. “Welcome, son,” said the Prince of the Pit.

“But what is Bryce supposed to do? Find that last piece of Theia’s power, use it on the blades, and open this portal to nowhere while praying we don’t all get locked in with the Asteri, too?” “That’s about the sum of it,” Aidas said, his eyes fixed on Bryce. “But there was one thing Theia and Helena did not anticipate: that you would bear the Horn, reborn, in your body. Another way to open doors between worlds.” “And what’s she supposed to do with that?” Hunt snarled. Aidas smiled slightly. “Fully open the Northern Rift, of course.”

It was the Starsword. And it was Ruhn wielding it, standing behind him. Ruhn, who had driven the sword right through their father’s cold heart.

I think the Oracle meant all of them, Ruhn went on, mind-to-mind. The male lines. The Starborn Princes included—all you fucks who have corrupted and stolen and never once apologized for it. The entire system. This bullshit of crowns and inheritance.

always assumed the Oracle’s prophecy meant that I would die.

But I am going to live, he said to his father. And I am going to live well—without you.

So much life, so much magic, freed at last of Vanir control. A place not only for the Fae, but for everyone. All of them.

“And they dispatched their Asterian Guard to Asphodel Meadows. They … they said it was a hotbed of rebel activity.” Bryce began shaking her head, backing away. Declan’s voice broke as he said, “They unleashed ten brimstone missiles on the Meadows. On everyone living there.”

“Fury and June are getting into a helicopter with my parents, Emile—Cooper, I mean—and Syrinx,”

“The Asteri didn’t find them before the attack, but I want them all here, kept safe.”

“I’m with you. All of me. You and I, we’ll finish this.”

The Prime looked down at the wolf kneeling at his feet. “But it must be broken.” He extended the sword to Ithan. “Ithan Holstrom is my heir.”

The Astronomer didn’t get the chance to plead his case. Sigrid, either from spite or lost to her hunger, left the old man no time to scream as she leapt upon him and fitted her mouth against his.

“Hail Ithan,” Amelie said, loud enough for all to hear, “Prime of the Valbaran Wolves.”

And as his howl finished echoing, he could have sworn he heard a male wolf’s cry float up from the Bone Quarter itself.

A female with golden-brown hair sat in an armchair before a fireplace on the other side of it. All that darkness was the starry night beyond her windows. And her face was a portrait of pure shock as Bryce lifted a hand in greeting and said, “Hello, Nesta.”

“I’m not going to harm you, or your world,” Bryce said in Nesta’s own language. “Then why is there a giant portal in my living room?” Nesta’s blue-gray eyes were gleaming with predatory violence.

Her starlight seemed to flicker in answer. Like whatever piece of Theia remained in it knew the Mask, and was glad to see it once more.

he couldn’t stop it, the pure rage and desperation that ruptured from him. “And all you care about is who one stupid fucking male is married to? There are babies in that rubble! And you cry only for yourself!”

Celestina just stood there, shivering. “As I said, I regret what I did. It has cost me more than you know.” She seemed to blink back tears. “Hypaxia has … ended things between us.”

“You were supposed to be good,” Hunt said, voice breaking. “You were supposed to be the good Archangel. And you’re even worse than Micah.” He spat, and it turned to ice before it could hit the snow. “At least he made it clear when he was fucking someone over.”

The thorns of the halo shivered and bled. Black ink dripped down, dissolving into nothing, gobbled up by the power that was now surging in him, rising

He saw it all in her eyes—that no matter what had happened, who he’d been and what he’d done … it really didn’t matter to her. Being made in Hel didn’t matter to her. But she’d captured who he was, deep down, in those photos last spring. The person she’d brought into the world. The person she loved. Just Hunt.

Bryce nodded. “The Fallen wouldn’t be given new, breathing bodies, but yes—they’d be able to help us.”

“What sort of bodies, then?” Isaiah asked, glancing nervously at Hunt. “Ones the Asteri already made for us,” Bryce said a shade quietly. “Perfect blends of magic and tech.”

“So,” Jesiba said, drumming her fingers on her desk, “the pup goes to pitch a deworming medicine to a bunch of wolves and comes home Prime.”

lmAOOOOOO

Panic edged his every word. “Pollux intercepted the Depth Charger as it dropped people off at the edge of Avallen’s mists. He slaughtered a bunch of mer, and … I don’t know how, but he knew about Lidia’s sons. He took them. He’s holding them at the palace.”

“Tell Lidia we’re coming,” Bryce said to Ruhn, still on the line. The thundering of their feet and hooves and claws shook the snowy earth. “And tell her we’re not coming alone.”

“And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.”

Ithan turned. And there was Connor, as vibrant as he’d ever been in life, standing in the temple doorway.

With a face like stone, Hypaxia swung the dark metal. And the Under-King exploded into sparkling shards of ice.

“That bullet,” Connor said, nodding to where Ithan held it, “was made by us—the dead. For Bryce.” A soft, pained smile crossed his face at her name. “To use with the Godslayer Rifle.”

“I’m already gone, Ithan,” Connor said gently. “And I can think of no better way to end my existence than by striking a blow for all our ancestors who’ve been trapped and consumed by the Asteri.” He nodded to the bullet, the glowing Gate illuminating his face. “Look at the engraving.” Memento Mori.