u/evelinewrites

happy spring angels xoxoxoxo

AO3 Link 

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Bryce found the mirror that night.

She and Lidia were in the Archives until their candles had burned out, morning birds already singing by the time they’d made their way to bed. Bryce had laid there for over an hour, tossing and turning while her mind churned faster than the sea.

Hours of research had yielded nothing, only trivial mentions of the demons she needed to slay. Fifteen thousand years on this planet, and hardly anyone had bothered to document the Princes. It was as if a magic bubble of ambivalence kept them out of public discourse altogether.

Fifteen thousand years of separation between this world and theirs, and she’d managed to undo it all with one desperate decision.

She wondered if that’s what happened to Theia. If perhaps she didn’t start out as an egomaniacal conqueror, but her moral compass slowly crumbled away through a series of well-intentioned poor choices that dug her grave deeper and deeper until she couldn’t see beyond it. Until it was too late to turn back. Until those choices were all that was left of her.

Did she truly find joy in destroying all those mortal villages, or had she struggled to sleep at night, haunted by their faces? Maybe they were faceless like in Bryce’s dreams, identities lost like pawns in someone else’s war, never to be found again.

We were here.

Bryce finally decided sleep had eluded her for the night when Lidia’s soft snore echoed through the wall adjoining their rooms, tiptoeing down the steps and into the humid night. She hadn’t thought much of where she was going, pausing only to sling Godslayer over her shoulder and tuck an extra handgun in her waistband before she ended up on the roof. She’d had the trellis put in last fall, which was now overflowing with jasmine that got in the way of her impulsive and annoyingly difficult climb.

The roof was flat, edged with stone that showed centuries — no, millennia of sun-bleaching. She’d brought an old iron café table from the Gallery, imagining that someday she and Hunt would be dining at it while they watched the sunset, planning for their future. She swallowed down the image, yet another dream that would never come to pass. Beside the table was a colorful wide chest made of stained glass.

Bryce took out the blankets lining the chest, shaking the dust off of them and layering them into a pile in the middle of the roof. She bunched up the last one to use as a pillow, reclining against it to finally gaze at the sky.

The stars were breathtaking. They danced and glimmered so bright it was almost blinding. There were rich colors sweeping behind them, deep ambers and violets swirling through the midnight cobalt to create a magnificent galaxy.  No light pollution rose from the land to filter out the depth and abundance of those stars, the sight of them settling a deep unease within her. Each twinkle was a like greeting, a reminder that she was not alone. We see you. We know you. We are you.

This view was the best part about Avallen. At least besides the flying horses.

She sighed at the immensity, keeping her eyes locked on the endless starlight while she fished around in her bra for the mirthroot she’d stocked earlier. She lit it cautiously, taking extra care to not burn holes in the antique, highly flammable blankets beneath her.

Maybe coming here had been a mistake. She’d been so certain that Avallen was the best place to look for answers, but maybe she’d been naive to assume Helena would bother leaving behind any clues for her descendants to find. At least beyond the ones that centered her own powers.

Who has the time to write a dissertation on Hel when they’re busy carving an entire cave system with their own story?

Bryce groaned, taking a deep drag. The sky was so utterly dark — the kind of blackness that was so deep it hurt her eyes. The kind that made even a hint of light glitter and shine like a beacon in the endless void, the perfect backdrop for the brilliant display of starlight gleaming above her.

And the moon — it was just a sliver tonight, soft enough to allow the stars to dominate. A perfect crescent hanging low over a sleeping city, one which resembled the home world of the fae far more than this one. One filled with hateful people who despised Bryce for interrupting their endless privilege — and those who had been deeply abused by that privilege, to whom the beauty of these lands was no more than an illusion. A prison. The surrounding waters but a vicious, unforgiving corral to keep them isolated.

She had vowed to do everything in her power to make things better, to help right these ancient wrongs. And she had tried, even if it turned out that everything in her power didn’t amount to shit.

The mirthroot took the edge off her simmering rage, her veins growing so hot she worried she might boil alive. But it wasn’t fire she felt when she considered the obligations she had vowed to fulfill, both to the Ocean Queen and to herself.

It was ice cold fury, a chill like hoarfrost that stung to the bone.

Bryce smoked and stargazed well into the night, finding a strange mixture of solace and commiseration in the emptiness of the world. Her brain meandered the more she smoked, wondering if the moon keeping her company was the same one hanging outside Azriel’s window. The same one watching over Nesta during her nightly training, or illuminating Elain’s masterful garden. She hadn’t thought to pay attention while she was there, but from what she remembered, it looked about the same. But how could it be? How far away were they?

She couldn’t help but wonder how Azriel was doing — if he could think or feel anything while he slept. If he dreamed. She hoped his brain was finally quiet, allowing him a rare moment of blissful calm while his body healed. Bryce had the feeling he didn’t get nearly as many of those as he needed, especially with all his spymaster duties.

Did he ever know peace? Or were his shadows constantly chattering away in his ear, always forcing him to surveil the world around him instead of living in it? She’d certainly added to that noise this last week.

She grimaced, images of the Depth Charger slipping from the mental tomb in which she’d tried to lock them away.

Hunt lives. End of story.

Bryce ground her teeth and shot upright, suddenly needing to get off of this roof. She needed to do something — anything.

She didn’t plan on going to the Cave of Princes. She didn’t plan anything, really, except to move long enough to outpace her own thoughts. But here she was, a mere insect compared to the mammoth opening before her. Azriel’s golden dagger still gleamed bright against her leather-clad thigh. While stiff from lack of wear, the leathers were surprisingly comfortable, even with the late summer heat casting a dew of perspiration over her skin.

She’d had enough sense to take some flashlights from the Ocean Queen’s armory, a decision she was especially grateful for as she trudged through the pitch-black caves, too drained to rely solely on her star. The only sound aside from her clumsy footsteps was the steady, lulling drip of water leaking somewhere deep in the tunnel. Bryce shivered, spreading the beam of her flashlight wider while the shadows enveloped her.

The air in the cavern was frigid enough that she could see her breath, even without any of the black salt in her system. All the hairs on her skin raised at her proximity to Hel, terrified to inhale too deeply lest the airborne particles send her hurtling right into their clutches, even as each step drew her closer to the very cavern where she and Hunt had visited them all those months ago Allegedly, they couldn’t hurt her while she traveled that way, but at this point, who knew if that was even the truth? If there even was a reliable truth to know anymore?

Honestly, she didn’t know if she cared anymore either way.

She followed the trail of violence etched in stone all the way to the sarcophagus blocking the hidden stairwell. It took considerable effort to move on her own, but she certainly wasn’t going to let a heavy slab of stone deter whatever this mission even was. She had to brace her back against it, squatting low and pushing through her heels to slide it far enough for her to crawl past while she panted from the exertion.

The room was empty save for the black ewer bowl in the center of the room, shattered remains of its accompanying jug still scattered about. Her eyes followed the flashlight roaming the rock walls, looking — searching for any kind of clue. 

There was nothing in this godsdamned room.

She considered drinking the salt water just for the Hel of it, but some primal instinct — the kind that still cared enough to keep her alive for the time being — held her back.

But then why was she here?

She let out a long sigh, squatting low and holding her head in her hands. She’d been so sure, her starlight seeming to agree as she’d edged closer to this moment — and now, there was nothing but walls.

Walls.

Miles of rock, which had been carved up by a cruel artist’s hand. A mural and a record. If the original history becomes warped or parts lost to time… here it is, etched in stone.

She scrambled back up the staircase. Her vision narrowed on the first of the cave portraits, drawing her in like a moth to a flame as she studied its textured surface. Her finger hovered just above it like she would trace the ridges, but she paused, years at the Gallery rendering her reluctant to touch old, strange art unless absolutely necessary.

This was why she had come, she realized — to feel useful for the first time in as long as she could remember. Researching in ancient books hadn’t gotten her anywhere good at CCU, and it certainly wasn’t going to start now. She stared and stared at the first carving, depicting the hunt of the pegasuses. The beautiful, magnificent creatures with ropes of starlight — her starlight — wrapped around their throat, yanking them from the skies. Perhaps this had been Theia’s original sin that began her descent into madness.

Bryce finally gave in and placed a hand against the cool rock, channeling her light into the stone river running through the chamber. It ran down the walls like a dam broke, filling the floor and even the ceiling with liquid starlight until everything was cast in iridescent white light.

At least it’s still good for something.

There were no gods, she realized. For all the glory and carnage depicted around her, there was not one deity carved into the stone. The Fae were certainly portrayed with a certain air of divinity, but the lack of true religious iconography was strange. Even the Prison carvings on Prythian showed the Cauldron from which their world was supposedly born, plus Theia wielding the Dread Trove on her throne while her devoted subjects cheered.

She had this nagging sense that there was some missing piece locked deep within her brain. Why hadn’t Theia fought harder to survive? She had the Horn and the Harp, plus Starsword and Truth-Teller, and she could have world walked anywhere… so why did she lose? How did she lose?

And where the Hel was Aidas? Silene said that he was away fetching an army, but… Rigelus said Aidas betrayed her. Even Apollion said that her trust in them had been her downfall. What did that mean? Who could she trust more?

None of them, Bryce realized as she shook her head. She couldn’t trust what anyone said. Even these carvings were stories, not facts, shaped by the minds who cut through mountains to tell them. History was always written by the victors, art included.

She realized that she might never discover the full truth she was seeking. That the motives and history of Hel might very well never be revealed to her — unless she failed, anyway. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe she just needed to mind her business and focus on killing them all. But how?

And how was she supposed to save Hunt?

She swallowed, turning back to the carvings. Her mind was stuck on Theia’s death, much like the dreams that swallowed her whole whenever she wasn’t too fucked up enough to remember them. She could feel it, like she had been the one waiting to be slain, her mate’s hands desperately trying to reach through worlds for her before that eternal darkness won.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she played it over and over, not sure which parts were from Silene and which her night terrors invented. Theia had died so easily for someone with so much power, and it just so happened to be at the exact moment her mate was too far to intervene. But not before she split her star and her weapons between her daughters, almost as if… as if she’d known they would end up on different worlds. As if she’d wanted to separate those powers so no one besides her true heir could wield them — or even find them. Maybe Aidas was the one she’d been trying to evade, if trusting him was such a mistake.

But why? Why didn’t she just take her daughters and leave the world to rot if she was such an evil tyrant? Even if she wasn’t — had she even tried to stop Pelias?

Bryce closed her eyes, stomach turning and bile rising in her throat as she tried to see herself in Theia’s place. Not because it was so unimaginable, but because it wasn’t. She knew what it felt like to make a split second decision to sacrifice herself for the sake of her world, even with the Asteri still at large. She knew what it felt like to give everything to save those she loved.

She knew what it felt like to give up.

And if Theia was anything like Bryce, she didn’t do anything without a reason. She had a goal — a mission. But it couldn’t have just been to save her daughters, or they all could have escaped together. She wanted to save all her people.

But how?

The questions circled and spun until the sun was high into the sky, sleep a distant memory. Bryce pulled out one of the mirthroot cigarettes tucked in her pocket and lit it, watching the flicker of her lighter bounce off the cave walls and illuminate the menacing faces carved within them.

One spot in the corner caught her eye, rock smoother than pebbles in a stream. In the very center of the spot, there was the faintest eight-pointed star, its outline barely indenting the black salt. The light skittered as if the stone itself chased it away, a small shadow among the glittering black salt walls flowing with the starlight river. Bryce approached it slowly, mirthroot dangling from her lips as she raised her hand. She hesitated with her fingertips hovering just above the smooth rock, heartbeat stuttering as if it could feel the power slumbering just beyond her touch. After several long drags, she shrugged at herself before pressing her palm flat against the stone.

Nothing happened.

For a long moment, she stood there with her hand against the matte midnight black spot, sighing at herself. The next, she felt the shift in the rock, sending her star gleaming while a rumble groaned beneath her feet.

The wall parted, crumbles of sediment and debris raining from above. She instinctively shielded her face with her arms, dust rising to choke her as she blinked through what felt like an explosion. As soon as it had started, the moving rock clicked into place, taking the cacophony with it.

The following silence was eerie, like pressure before a storm weighing on her ears.

Before her was a wide, open room; if the hidden passageway to Hel blended naturally into the stone, this room leapt from it, shining and glistening as if the rock had been meticulously polished. There was a massive moonstone bed in the center of the room, which laid on a thick tapestry rug made from varying shades of emerald and lavender. Glass orbs hung from the walls, seemingly spelled to glow for eternity.

And on the wall directly across from the bed, thick ivory curtains laid in ruffles on either side of a colossal mirror.

Bryce didn’t have to get any closer it to know this was the mirror she was supposed to find. She knew it in her bones — in her soul. Its frame was encrusted with jewels of all different hues, sparkling and gleaming under the soft glow filling the room. Small carvings swirled underneath it, looking eerily similar to the markings tattooed down her spine. The ancient language of the fae.

The glass was so clean it looked like liquid. Bryce approached it warily, feeling ripples of power emanating from it and bouncing throughout the room. It seemed to hum, the light on her chest glowing brighter in anticipation.

Bryce might not have recognized this place, but her star certainly did.

She got so close to the mirror her breath should have fogged up the glass, but not a speck of dust appeared to cover its smooth surface despite millennia of neglect. I really need to learn these cleaning spells, she reprimanded herself as she raised her fingertips to the inscription.

It dawned on her that she probably should have bothered to learn some of this language by now, too — or how to work this mirror, for that matter. All it revealed was her haggard, sleep-deprived appearance, which she wasn’t too eager to stare at for longer than necessary at this particular moment.

She closed her eyes, trying to channel her energy as if she were opening a portal. Find Nesta, she willed the mirror, her fingers still tracing the inscription. Bypass the gate between worlds. Find your sister.

Bryce could have sworn she felt a surge of power vibrate through her bones on the last word. Sister. The glass began to ripple like a pond disturbed by a breeze.

She took a step back, hands automatically gripping both guns as her heartbeat jumped to concerningly high levels. The surface continued to dance and shimmer until a sharp, unforgiving female face came into focus, judgment glowing in her striking metallic eyes.

But it wasn’t Nesta on the other side of the glass.

The strange woman was unnaturally gorgeous. Her hair was white as the moon, nearly the same shade as her porcelain skin. Her eyes were deep gold, glowing in the sunlight that was illuminating her beauty. She wore a deep red hooded cloak, which was pulled up over most of her her hair. Bryce was mesmerized, her face a perfect blend of angelic and demonic.

“Hello, witchling,” her cruel, hypnotizing voice crooned, her smile revealing rows of iron teeth so sharp they looked like they could pierce through her own jaw. Bryce suppressed a shudder, forcing her face into a mask smoother than the stone beneath her feet. “Why has a pretty thing like you come knocking on my mirror?”

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Hello dear besties,

It has come to my attention that today (or some day in the near vicinity lol) is the birthday of the one and only Ms. u/cassidy_taylor , AKA the queen of quotes herself!!! Cass has the best, most in-depth theory posts and deserves an honorary PhD in literature for her work here (if she doesn't have one already??? 10/10 would believe)

She is also one of our fabulous mods and all around just an angel. Cass, I've never really been one to make online friends before joining this sub (stranger danger!!), but I can tell how genuinely sweet and loving you are just from the way you uplift everyone here. You never miss commenting on a Club Rats post and always have the most encouraging things to say -- I seriously get emo every time you pull quotes and can't tell you how much I appreciate you! I'm also guilty of rarely looking at usernames when I read posts, and I always know before checking when I'm reading one of yours because they are sooo good and have such a distinct style. I think you've mentioned wanting to write fiction before, and I already know you'd be amazing at it. Thank you for being such a sweet stunning goddess angel, and I hope you have the best day with your favorite people today!

(PS, other mods -- please let us know your birthdays so we can celebrate all of you!!)

To celebrate this lovely lady, here are some of my favorite posts by her, including this gorgeous and v spicy original artwork she made which I'll put at #1. She has also commissioned several of our beloved art pieces, so we have her to thank for that as well!

y'all I could keep going but it's literally just all of her posts lol -- thanks again Cass and happy happy happy bday!!!

edit -- this is absolutely Chapter 24, but I can't edit the title lol. Sorry about that!

Edit 2 — I forget the AO3 link every damn time I stg lol

happy Saturday sweet angels xoxoxo

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The Ocean Queen didn’t waste a moment once they were in the safety of her submarine chambers. Three of the metal walls were covered in massive portholes, all of which were decorated with blooming vines. The only furniture — besides the glowing fourth wall of endless computer screens, surveilling every inch of this ship —  was a long table made of bleached coral, over a dozen matching chairs tucked underneath while even more candelabras burned in a line down the center. Even with the magic pressure regulation, the sensation of being so far below the surface gave Bryce the shivers.  

“Let’s get some things out of the way,” the Queen began, eyes bright with erratic power. “I know Aidas warned you about his brothers. I know you’ve been on a fool’s errand to uncover their plans. I even know you left Orion Athalar, whom you correctly suspect is colluding with them. What you don’t know, dear… well, those are a great many things. Things you must know if you have any hope of surviving this suicide mission of yours.” She paused, plucking a luminescent violet flower from the emerald vine trailing around the window, petals glowing so intensely purple they looked poisonous to the touch, before offering it to Bryce. 

Bryce gave no reaction, eyes locked in their own sparring match with the Sea Witch herself.

“I will tell you everything,” she continued, “on one condition. You will swear not to lie — not to deceive, or betray, or conceal, or waste my time. You will be forthcoming and truthful always, and I will do the same. Swear it.” 

Bryce rolled her eyes, feeling the current swell against the metal tin can that was standing between her and sudden death. She traced the barnacles and seaweed vines lining the room, counting her breaths to steady her ire.

“Fine,” Bryce grumbled. “Whatever. I swear it.”

A menacing smile formed on the Queen’s ruby-black lips as her pet eels floated to her side, encased in buoyant bubbles of seawater that were suspended as if they were outside the ship.“Not with your words, child. With your blood.”

***

Endless mist engulfed everything in sight, obscuring the twilight sky above and the thrashing sea below. Mist so thick Bryce could taste it, like curls of smoke on her tongue, fresh and inviting and melancholy all at once — so thick she was practically choking on the salty fumes.

Then, as if a sharpened dagger sliced through the veil, the fog parted to reveal an ancient hidden paradise. Her paradise.

She’d forgotten the sheer beauty of it. Every inch was bedecked in lush foliage, gorgeous flowers and drooping trees lining everything her eyes could see. The air was warm and sweet, the stone-washed buildings glowing a soft peach in the golden dusk light.

Home, she realized. This place felt like home, at least more than any other.

Bryce practically leapt from the Depth Charger to the smaller transport ship below, eager to leave that monstrosity behind. She felt chilled to the bone despite the temperate day, the sheer magnitude of the Ocean Queen’s magic still leaching into her adrenaline-laden nervous system. A permanent reminder of it dangled from her neck, swaying just above her star with the waves and reeking of brined fish. The golden seashell was humming with power, every tap of it against her bare flesh an echo of the current’s immensity. 

She did her best not to dwell on it — not to replay making a deal with the devil in the depths of the sea. Not to picture that rotten piece of driftwood parchment, or the leech quill turning her blood to ink as she signed away her soul while the eels cackled, or the foreboding, girlish voice of the Ocean Queen still ricocheting through her skull. It’s a promise, dearie.

At least Lidia had gotten to see Brann and Ace again before school started instead of witnessing that — at least she didn’t know what Bryce had promised. 

She shook her head, bringing her attention to the moment in front of her. It had been months since she’d set foot on Avallen soil, so soft and rich with fertility even along the coast. Bryce made a beeline for the old cottage she’d claimed as her own, strategically close to the Cave of Princes despite her desperate wish to never step foot in there again. 

Those prayers clearly did as much good as all the rest.

“We should start in the Archives,” Bryce said flatly when they were safely hidden inside the cottage. “This research alone could take weeks.”

Lidia nodded and began unloading the bounty the Ocean Queen had provided, dressing them in armor and rifles and easily concealable handguns that barely made a sound. Lidia’s golden eyes had flickered for just one breath when the armory doors were finally open to her, the spark of an ember just before it turned back to neutral ash. Now, as Bryce joined her in disarming and conducting inventory, the sheer volume of weapons before them was entirely overwhelming.  They had enough artillery to take over the godsdamned Crystal Palace. 

“Seems like overkill,” Bryce mused.

Lidia’s golden eyes turned dark. “Better to be too prepared.” 

Bryce nodded, hesitating as they both turned to leave. She willed her feet to keep pushing forward, but her body refused to cooperate. Lidia turned back as she reached the front door, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

“I’ll meet you there. I need to handle something first,” Bryce said quickly, not leaving room for questions. “Can I borrow your phone?”

Lidia handed it over, eyeing her warily but keeping her mouth shut. Bryce watched out the window when she left, waiting until she had followed the cobblestone road far out of sight. She paced circles around the room as the ringing in her ear grated against her last nerve. 

“Lidia? What’s wrong?” Declan’s voice sounded panicked as he answered the call.

“Not quite,” she snapped. “Listen, I need your help. Can you—”

“Bryce?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. What happens to all the old security footage? Can you still access it?”

“How old are we talking?” Declan asked with blooming cockiness. 

Bryce didn’t take a second to consider, the date etched upon her soul far more permanently than the scar tissue of her star or the Horn inked in her back. “Three years, two months, and twelve days.”

***

The Archives smelled of must and worn leather, fire magic encased in crystal sconces casting a golden glow across the endless shelves. Bryce traced a finger along the old spines, noting how not even a speck of dust coated the ancient covers. Lidia had already compiled a stack of volumes that referenced the brothers of Hel, which were scattered along the massive study table. They had agreed to do as much research as possible before coming up with a strategy, if only to buy time for Ruhn to get some answers before they stormed Rhysand’s home — again. With any luck, he’d figure out how to get to Midgard at the same second they left for Prythian, and they’d be ships in the night. 

 Bryce grabbed a particularly heavy tome and disappeared to the worn leather couches behind the shelves, longing for a moment of privacy as she willed her brain to take in even a single word on the page. They all blurred together like formless blobs.

****

The Ocean Queen giggled while twirling a lock of hair, dozens of sea glass and shell bracelets adorning her wrists clanging together like wind chimes. Bryce resisted the urge to leap across the long table between them and punch her as hard as she could, digging her fingers into Godslayer instead. Lidia was frozen beside her, staring down the Ocean Queen and reminding Bryce far too much of a certain stoic warrior. 

The Queen was only focused on Bryce. “The truth cannot be unlearned. Are you certain you wish to proceed?” 

“No, I just came here for the five-star resort experience,” Bryce snapped, digging deep for even a semblance of patience.

“Then go,” she barked at Lidia, whose eyes blazed in warning as two mer guards appeared at her sides and restrained each of her arms. “Take her to her sons.”

Lidia’s protesting mouth fell silent, eyebrows narrowing as she looked from the Queen to Bryce, who nodded reluctantly. 

“Go,” Bryce said with a forced smile, knowing how deeply she wanted this. “Tell them I said to take a shower with actual soap — I can smell them from here.” 

Lidia offered a grateful but sheepish smile as she allowed herself to be escorted away. The Ocean Queen waited until they’d closed the massive steel door and had enough time to clear the hallway before she turned back to her luminescent vines. “Where shall we begin?”

“Cut to the point.”

“Someone’s crabby today,” she said with an overdramatic pout, which reflected in the window against the dark depths of the sea. Bryce only offered her icy glare in return while tapping her foot, urging her to continue. The Queen snapped her fingers, a rotten scrap of parchment made from driftwood appearing on the table before Bryce. Next to it laid a quill as black as night, its handle covered in a million needle-like spikes.

“Sign it,” the Queen urged softly, the words setting Bryce’s hairs on end. Her gut screamed at her in protest — no, that was the voice of her mother lecturing her to never make a deal with someone she couldn’t trust.

Too bad she was out of options. 

Bryce skimmed the parchment, an ancient flowing script covering every inch of its surface. “What exactly am I agreeing to here?”

“It’s simple, dear,” she said in that same hypnotic voice. “I tell you what I know, you tell me what you know, we help each other — everybody wins.”

“Help you how?” Bryce’s eyebrows narrowed.

“I want those Hel scum gone even more than you do.” The ocean seemed to swell around the ship, the thick glass windows rattling from the impact. “You’ll help me destroy the one thing they want and banish them from this world once and for all. Do that, and you’ll get your magic back.”

Bryce considered her words, making a show of pacing around the long table before pausing to tap her nails against the coral surface. “I need more than that.” 

“You’re hardly in a position to make demands,” the Queen laughed. “But for amusement’s sake, what else do you require?”

“If I’m going to take down the Supreme Assholes of Hel, I’m going to need an army.”

***

Five minutes later, Bryce was wrapping her hand in scraps she tore from the table runner as blood flowed from countless microscopic wounds — the same blood she’d just used to make a bargain with the Sea Witch.

What’s one more idiotic choice to add to the pile? she asked herself wryly.

“Wasn’t that exciting?” the Ocean Queen chirped, her lilting, girlish voice so at odds with the terrifying being behind it. 

“Start talking,” Bryce snapped.

The Ocean Queen sighed, shaking her head. “Children and their impatience.”

“I swear to Solas that I’ll let Thanatos eat you first.”

“I’d like to see him try,” she chuckled, shaking her head before her face turned somber. “Apollion, Aidas, and Thanatos have had one goal for millennia — to reunite with their lost brother. They are weakened without him. For fifteen thousand years, they’ve had no way to find him, separated by the stars themselves.” She whirled around to face Bryce, her wild eyes cutting to the core. “Until you. You foolish, stubborn Starborn child who opened the door right to them. I warned you, did I not? You traded one evil for another, and now they prepare to use you once more. So tell me, dear Brycey — what master plan shall you hatch this time? Or does Theia’s blood doom us yet again?”

“I already told you,” Bryce deadpanned. “I’m going to kill them all.”

The Queen let out a vicious cackle. “That’s not a plan. It’s a death wish wrapped in a prayer to a false god. In any other circumstance, I’d pay to see that play out— but this is too important, and they’re too protected. Too strong, even without full power. You will die, and they will use your shattered corpse to accomplish their mission, if that’s what it takes. They will stop at nothing. You will lose.” 

Bryce’s temper flared at the implication — that she was too weak to win — but something about the calm certainty radiating off the Queen gave her pause. She’d defeated the Asteri only through a series of well-timed assistance and absurdly good luck. She’d basically traded her magic for a bag of lightseeker. She’d gotten Azriel killed. Why should she delude herself into thinking she could take down the Star Eater himself?

The Ocean Queen noticed her falter. “Their brother is vulnerable, trapped in his own kind of prison. He’s the one you must kill.”

“And how am I supposed to find him if it took the Princes of Hel fifteen thousand years?”

“You already have,” she spat, as if that were the obvious answer. “He won’t go down easily. He’s taken measures to make up for what his bindings have stolen — to ensure his survival — but he’s been outsmarted once before.”

“Great. Any other cryptic messages, or do you want to actually be helpful?”

“Return to the home world of the fae,” the Ocean Queen hissed. “Find the one who lives in shadow. Find the pieces of him that he’s so carefully hidden. Bring those hideous weapons of yours. See that death finally befalls him.” 

Bryce chewed on her lip while she nodded. “Super. Anything else?”

“Yes.”She pulled out the seashell necklace that Lidia had left behind. “Wear this — always. If you’re in danger, this will protect you.” 

“How?” Bryce grabbed the amulet and dangled it before her eyes, examining the opalescent glow reflecting off the seashell.

“Because it will connect you directly to me.”

Bryce scoffed, rolling her eyes as she fastened it around her throat. The shell laid perfectly between her Archesian amulet and the star adorning her chest. “And then what? You haven’t moved against them in fifteen thousand years — why now? What makes you think you can win?”

The Queen kinked an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “Because I have you.” 

“Don’t count your blessings too soon.”

She merely smiled, turning her back to gaze out the window once more. Bryce took that as her cue to leave, turning to follow Lidia’s footsteps when that lilting, horrifying voice finally spoke. “You ask the wrong questions,” she began, watching Bryce’s reflection against the glass. “You wonder why I haven’t moved against them — but why have they not moved against me? Never once, for as long as this planet has been on their radar?”

“Because their mommies never taught them to swim?”

The Ocean Queen let out a barking laugh. “That, too.” She rapped her dagger-sharp fingernails against the glass. “But why else?”

Bryce’s eyebrows narrowed, trying to follow. Her mind raced through everything she knew about the Princes, the small glimpses of their world that she saw when she drank that black salt…

“The salt,” she whispered. “The white salt repels them.” 

“Very good, dearie… but it doesn’t just repel them. It eviscerates them. They come from a realm of darkness — they are the darkness. They are the void which threatens to consume all, and they fear the chaos of their own making. The first hints of life on this world clawed their way from that darkness, from depths of the sea — crafted from light and water and heat and salt, evolving from one measly cell to the dynamic planet you see today. This is what they fear most — us, as bearers of light and flame and water, bringers of life — the way that all men fear women. They wish to drink from that spring of life until this land is as barren and desolate as their own. The Asteri knew that and weaponized it against them, finding a way to embody that deadly light so they too were untouchable. Or so they thought,” the Queen mused, pursing her lips into a cocky smile as she clearly remembered the downfall of Sirius. “Imposters always do.”

Bryce swallowed, taking in everything she’d learned. Return to Prythian. Find the long-lost brother. Light and heat and water and salt. Easy peasy*, she told herself as she swung open the heavy metal door.*

“One more thing,” the Queen said too sweetly, the sound fermenting in Bryce’s ears and spreading like sticky rot through her blood as she paused before the threshold. “When the time comes, you must kill Orion Athalar.”

Bryce blinked in pure shock, letting the door fall closed again. “You have to be joking.”

“It’s doubtful that you will believe this, but I sincerely wish I were.” 

The rare glimmer of pity, perhaps even compassion shining in the Ocean Queen’s eyes stopped her in her tracks. Bryce shook her head as if she could shake off the sight of it. 

“Orion is the key,” the Queen said softly. “Thanatos made sure of that. While he lives, so do the rest. He is a weapon in the truest sense. You cannot save him. You cannot try. You must take him out.”

Bryce stepped closer until she was towering over the petite queen, her voice a shocking chill of ice. “If you touch one hair on his head, I will banish you and all your people to the same black hole I sent the Asteri without batting an eye. I will take everyone down with us if I have to — don’t fuck with me.”

“I won’t,” the Queen shrugged, unfazed by Bryce’s cold fury. “It must be you.”

She was too angry to speak, too beyond control. She closed her eyes and took deep, steadying breaths, clinging to the cold metal of the rifle in her hands like a lifeline. 

“I would think you’d want to kill him,” the Ocean Queen taunted, clearly Hel-bent on testing every inch of Bryce’s patience in this short meeting. “After he murdered your lover.”

“Azriel is not my lover,” Bryce spat, massaging her temples and refusing to make eye contact while she searched for some semblance of calm.

“No? Well then, how about that darling Fendyr wolf you loved so much? You dishonor her still.”

Her eyes flew open, her heartbeat racing out of control as the pseudo calm vanished at the words. “Everything I do,” she gritted out, “is to honor her. I live for her. I will do anything you ask of me, except for that. Hunt lives. End of story.”

A wicked glint sparkled in the Ocean Queen’s eye, her full lips turning up into a sinister grin. 

****

Bryce hadn’t thought it was possible to have a worse experience with an Oracle than her first, but somehow she’d outdone herself. As soon as she was away from that horrible room, she ran to the nearest toilet and retched until her stomach was empty.

At least she didn’t blind this one.

She’d needed to see it with her own eyes. That was the only way she could have possibly believed it, and even still, she was half convinced it was all a trick. She needed it to be a trick.

It had to be a trick.

Ten minutes — that’s how long she would allot herself to vomit and soak her face in cold water before she found Lidia. Ten minutes to push down the ugliest truth she’d ever had to face.

****

Lidia met Bryce on the top level, flanked by four guards whose hands all hovered right above their weapon holsters. “You okay?” she asked warily as she approached, clearly noting the flush across Bryce’s cheeks before her eyes locked on the pendant dangling from her throat.

“Never better,” Bryce quipped, clearing her throat and longing for a toothbrush. “As great as this has been, we’d better be off,” she said to the Ocean Queen lingering in the hallway. 

“It’s been a blast,” the Queen said gleefully, hints of a threat still lurking beneath the surface of her light voice. Bryce and Lidia turned to finally make their escape when she continued, “Cervos. Quite the show you put on earlier.” She approached them, forcing them to face her one final time. “You fought well. Let’s pray it’s the last time we’re on opposing sides, or I fear there will be no one left standing.” She offered a hand.

“Let’s,” Lidia agreed coolly, her jaw muscles flexing as they shook on it.  

“Imagine, child,” she breathed, using her grip to pull herself closer, “all that we can accomplish together. Stay close to our dear Brycey — you will need each other if any of us hope to survive.”

Lidia nodded and yanked her hand back, not offering another word before she headed through the open door leading to the ship’s surface. Bryce held the Ocean Queen’s gaze for a long while, feeling the weight of this moment as if it were yet another tipping point, another teetering precipice she was flinging herself over with no view of the other side.   

“I honor my promises, Ms. Quinlan,” she said. “I implore you to do the same.”

Bryce took a slow breath, not even blinking. “And if I fail?”

The Ocean Queen’s face turned solemn again — almost pained. “Then I will flood this whole world until every gate is submerged and start anew. I will not allow them to win, no matter the cost.”

Bryce nodded and left the ship without a second glance.

^*^*^