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

by Sarah J. Maas

“Hel’s armies shall strike at your command, Bryce Quinlan.”

already know the way into this world.” He pointed with a paw to Bryce and inclined his head. “Through my lovely Bryce and the Horn on her back.”

Bryce growled, “I don’t even know any Ophion rebels.” Aidas stretched out his front paws, back arching. “That’s not true.” Hunt stilled as the demon yawned. “There’s one right behind you.” Bryce whirled, Hunt with her, lightning poised to strike. Cormac Donnall stood in the doorway, shadows fading from his shoulders. “Hello, Agent Silverbow,” Aidas crooned, then vanished.

“Why do your shadows appear different from Ruhn’s?” Bryce asked Cormac.

“That was Pippa’s idea, carried out by Lightfall. To use those Vanir kids and babies to lure their parents out of their hidden dens—and then kill them all. Simply for sport. For the Hel of it. Because they were Vanir and deserved to die. Even the children. She said it was part of cleansing this world. Working their way up to the top: the Asteri. Hence the Lightfall name.”

“The Hind went to all that trouble because Sofie, as collateral to make sure the Ophion boat showed up for Emile, had gathered vital intel on the Asteri, and made sure Command knew it.”

“Because you can mind-speak, can you not? It’s how you and your friends survived in the Cave of Princes during your Ordeal. You fought as if you were of one mind. You never told my father, but he suspected. I suspected. It’s a rare Starborn gift.

Cormac opened the door, stepping into the swirling shadows.

Bryce rubbed at her neck—then straightened. “Any chance that Dusk’s Truth is somehow related to the Lightfall squadron?” Tharion arched a brow. “Why?” Hunt picked up her thread immediately. “Lightfall. Also known as dusk.” “And Project Thurr … thunder god … Could it be related to the thunderbirds?” Bryce went on. “You think it involved some kind of intel about Pippa’s Lightfall squadron?” Ruhn asked. “It seemed to be some sort of groundbreaking info,” Tharion said. “And Thurr … It could have had something to do with the thunderbird stuff. Sofie sounded afraid of the Asteri’s wrath in her reply to Danika … Maybe it was because she was afraid of them knowing she had the gift.”

“What the fuck is this?” Bryce whispered as she knelt in the ruins of her coffee table and leafed through the stack of papers that had apparently been hidden inside. “It’s not only college papers,” Ithan said, fanning out the pages beside her. “These are documents and images of newspaper clippings.” He peered at them. “They all seem like they’re regarding firstlight’s uses—mostly how it was made into weapons.” Bryce’s hands shook. She sifted through a few academic articles—all full of redactions—theorizing on the origin of worlds and what the Asteri even were.

Asteri? They’re holy stars.”

All we have as proof of their so-called sacred power is their word, Bryce read. Who has ever seen such a star manifest itself? If they are stars from the heavens, then they are fallen stars. A chill ran down Bryce’s spine, one hand drifting to her chest. She had a star within her. Well, starlight that manifested as a star-shaped thing, but … What was the Asteri’s power, then? The sun was a star—did they possess the power of an actual sun?

Dusk’s Truth. The same project that had been mentioned in the emails between Sofie and Danika. That Danika had said would be of interest to Sofie. Danika had been digging into it since college?

“Dusk’s Truth was one of the things that Danika mentioned to Sofie,” Bryce said quietly. “Dusk’s Truth and Project Thurr.”

“Sofie was in contact with our most vital spy in the rebellion—Agent Daybright.”

“Daybright has direct access to the Asteri—Ophion has long wondered whether Daybright is one of the Asteri themselves.

The mind-speaking was a rare gift of the Avallen Fae, inherited from his mother’s bloodline, and had always come naturally to him.

Daybright came along and started feeding us vital information that has led to successful strikes on supply lines, missions, encampments. Now that we have someone in the upper echelons of the Asteri’s rule, it changes everything. The information Daybright would pass to you can save thousands of lives.”

“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.”

“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.”

Some part of her howled at the idea of anyone—any-fucking-one—putting their hands and mouth and other parts on him. Of Hunt touching anyone else. Wanting anyone else. Of him existing in a world where he hadn’t known her, and some other female had been more important—

The seventh and most lethal of the demon princes of Hel was in his mind— “I am not in your mind, though your thoughts ripple toward me like your world’s radio waves. You and I are in a place between our worlds. A pocket-realm, as it were.”

This demon prince had killed the seventh Asteri. Had devoured the seventh Asteri. The Star-Eater.

Do you not know where I come from? My father was the Void, the Being That Existed Before. Chaos was his bride and my dam. It is to them that we shall all one day return, and their mighty powers that run in my blood.” “Fancy.” But Apollion said, “You’re wasting the gifts that were given to you.” Hunt drawled, “Oh, I think I’ve put them to good use.” “You don’t know a fraction of what you might do. You and the Starborn girl.” “Again, Quinlan got the whole ‘master your powers’ talk from Aidas today, and that was boring enough, so let’s not repeat it.” “Both of you would benefit from training. Your powers are more similar than you realize. Conduits, both of you. You have no idea how valuable you and the others like you are.”

“The Northern Rift is groaning once more. I can smell war on the wind. I do not plan to lose this time.”

A female of pure flame. Or that was how she chose to appear. Not how Lehabah had been made of flame, with her body visible, but rather a female cloaked in it, only a flash of a bare wrist or an ankle or a shoulder through the veil. She was humanoid, but that was all he could glean. She looked like one of the radical sun-priests who’d gone rogue and immolated themselves to be close to their god.

But he found only a form of night and stars, galaxies and planets. As if his silhouette had been filled by them. He lifted a hand, finding not skin but the starry blanket of the sky covering his fingers.

Night and Daybright. Night and Day—he liked that.

tell your commander that safe passage is granted under the cover of the waning moon.

The holiday known as Death’s Day was a lively one, despite its name: it was a day of balance between the light and dark, when the veil between the living and dead was thinnest.

“Aidas said you’ve got the light of the true Starborn Queen.

“The sword came to you first for a reason. When was the last time two Starborn royals lived peacefully side by side? There’s that dumb prophecy that the Fae have: When knife and sword are reunited, so shall our people be. You have the Starsword. What if … I don’t know. What if there’s a knife out there for me? But beyond that, what’s Urd playing at? Or is it Luna? What’s the end goal?” “You think the gods have something to do with all this?” Again, the hair on her arms rose; the star on her chest dimmed and went dark. She turned to the rain-lashed street. “After this spring, I can’t help but wonder if there is something out there. Guiding all this. If there’s some game afoot that’s … I don’t know. Bigger than anything we can grasp.” “What do you mean?” “Hel is another world. Another planet. Aidas said so—months ago, I mean. The demons worship different gods than we do, but what happens when the worlds overlap? When demons come here, do their gods come with them? And all of us, the Vanir … we all came from elsewhere. We were immigrants into Midgard. But what became of our home worlds? Our home gods? Do they still pay attention to us? Remember us?”

“Apollion, Prince of the Pit, is ready to strike.” Her blood iced over to hear the name spoken aloud. “He’s going to launch a war?” Aidas had said something like that yesterday, but he’d indicated that the armies would be for her. She’d thought he meant to help in whatever insanity Hel had planned. “The Prince of the Pit wants a worthy opponent this time. One who will not break so easily, as Prince Pelias did so long ago. He insists on facing you, Starborn, at your full power.”

“The Prince of the Pit already hunts through the Bone Quarter’s mists to find the other one who might be his worthy opponent … or his greatest weapon.”

Again, he appeared. Again, he took another Reaper with him and vanished.

Starlight erupted from the black blade. Like its metal had been kindled with iridescent fire.

The Starsword sang with light, her power flowing into it. Activating it. And nothing had ever felt so right, so easy,

Cormac’s gaze was on the Starsword, his face ashen. Bryce peered at the blade she clenched in a white-knuckled grip. As if her hand refused to let go. With shaking fingers, she put it back into its sheath. Dimmed its light. But the Starsword still sang, and Bryce had no idea what to make of it. Of the blade that had slain that which was unkillable.

The queens of Valbara’s four great rivers, the Istros, the Melanthos, the Niveus, and the Rubellus—the Blue, the Black, the White, and the Red, respectively—had long been rivals: all mighty and gifted with magic. All vain and ancient and bored.

Ruhn spied their own solar system in the center of it all. Seven planets around a massive star. Seven Asteri—technically six now—to rule Midgard. Seven Princes of Hel to challenge them. Seven Gates in this city through which Hel had tried to invade this spring. Seven and seven and seven and seven—always that holy number. Always—

“It’s an ancient sword,” the Autumn King said at last, drawing Ruhn from his wandering thoughts, “from another world. Made from the metal of a fallen star—a meteorite. This sword exists beyond our planet’s laws.

“It was once a gift of the Starborn. It was the reason I became so … focused on attaining the Starsword. I thought my ability to teleport meant that the bloodline had resurfaced in me, as I’ve never met anyone else who can do it.” His eyes guttered as he added, “As you know, I was wrong. Some Starborn blood, apparently, but not enough to be worthy of the blade.”

She could have sworn they fell through time and space, could have sworn they tumbled toward something,

Hunt grabbed her fingers, laying them on his heart again. “What about mate?” Bryce stilled, and Hunt held his breath, wondering if he’d said the wrong thing. When she didn’t reply, he went on, “Fae have mates, right? That’s the term they use.” “Mates are … an intense thing for the Fae.” She swallowed audibly. “It’s a lifetime commitment. Something sworn between bodies and hearts and souls. It’s a binding between beings. You say I’m your mate in front of any Fae, and it’ll mean something big to them.” “And we don’t mean something big like that?” he asked carefully, hardly daring to breathe. She held his heart in her hands. Had held it since day one. “You mean everything to me,” she breathed, and he exhaled deeply. “But if we tell Ruhn that we’re mates, we’re as good as married. To the Fae, we’re bound on a biological, molecular level. There’s no undoing it.” “Is it a biological thing?” “It can be. Some Fae claim they know their mates from the moment they meet them. That there’s some kind of invisible link between them. A scent or soul-bond.” “Is it ever between species?” “I don’t know,” she admitted, and ran her fingers over his chest in dizzying, taunting circles. “But if you’re not my mate, Athalar, no one is.” “A winning declaration of love.” She scanned his face, earnest and open in a way she so rarely was with others. “I want you to understand what you’re telling people, telling the Fae, if you say I’m your mate.” “Angels have mates. Not as … soul-magicky as the Fae, b...

“Me too. And who knows? Maybe we’re already mates.” It would explain a lot. How intense things had been between them from the start. And once they crossed that last physical barrier, he had a feeling the bond would be even further solidified.

they strode up the seven steps to the archway

Marble and granite obelisks rose like thick spears, many inscribed—but not with names. Just with strange symbols. Grave markers, or something else?

two black obelisks, each engraved with a different array of those odd symbols.

The Reapers chose Midgard. But I am not surprised some have changed their minds.”