Page 143

“I’m sure those Fae assholes have some regulations forbidding it,” Tharion said with a wry smile, “but if there’s anyone who could get around them, it’s Bryce.”

Hunt blocked out the pain in his chest. He couldn’t bear to imagine the look of sorrow and rage that would creep over her face when she saw the halo, the brand. If she ever came back.

That last thought was more unbearable than any other.

Hunt forced himself past it and asked Tharion, “How are you doing?”

“About the same as you, but hanging in there.” Tharion picked at his food again. Shadows seemed to swim in his brown eyes. “Taking it hour by hour.”

“No word from Holstrom?”

Tharion shook his head, dark red hair shifting with the motion. The mer set down his fork at last. “What now?”

“Honestly?” Hunt braced his forearms on the metal table. “I don’t know. Yesterday, my main goal was not dying. Today? All I can think about is where Bryce is, how to find her.” And how he’d live with himself in the meantime.

“You really think she’s in some other world?”

The blazing lights of the mess hall bounced off the metallic surface of the table in a bright blur. “If she’s not in Hel, then yes—I hope she’s in another world, and safely so.”

“We’ll figure out some way to get her back here.”

Hunt didn’t bother telling the mer it was likely impossible. Bryce was the one person on Midgard who could open a portal capable of bringing her home.

He just said, “Bryce would want me to get the word out—about what she learned regarding the Asteri. So I figure I’ll start with the Ocean Queen. She’s not allied with Ophion, but she seems to … help them.” He gestured to the ship around them.

“Ah,” Ketos said wryly. “And I thought you found me in my bunk to do lunch.”

“I did. I wanted to see how you were,” Hunt said, then admitted, “but I also wanted to see if you had any sort of in.”

“With the Ocean Queen?” Tharion laughed, cold and hollow. “Might as well ask if I’ve got an in with Ogenas herself.”

“She’s gone to all this trouble to help the enemies of the Asteri,” Hunt said, drumming his fingers on the table. “I want to know why.”

Tharion studied his face with a scrutiny that reminded Hunt why Ketos had been made the River Queen’s Captain of Intelligence. Hunt let the mer see the pure determination that flowed through him.

“All right,” Tharion said gravely. “I’ll see what I can do. Though …” He winced.

“What?”

“Considering what happened with her sister and niece … it might not go well.”

“You’re on this ship, and no one has tried to kill you or send you back to the River Queen—that must mean something.”

“I think it has more to do with Lidia’s importance than mine, much as that kills me to say.” Tharion sighed through his nose. “And believe me, from the moment I got onto this ship, I’ve taken no shortage of shit about defecting from the River Queen. I’m pretty much a pariah.”

“Well … maybe there’s a way to use it to your advantage to lure the Ocean Queen here for a meeting.”

Tharion crossed his muscular arms. “I’d rather not.”

“Think about it,” Hunt said. “Whatever you can stomach doing … I’d appreciate it.”

Tharion dragged his long fingers through his red hair. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Tharion shifted on the metal bench to pull a phone from his skintight wetsuit. He began typing. “I’ll see if Sendes is free to talk.” He got to his feet with fluid grace. “I’ll let you know if I get anywhere.”

Not an ember of the mer’s usual spark lit his eyes.

“Thanks,” Hunt said. “Keep me posted.” Tharion nodded and strode off, still typing away.

Hunt finished his own plate of fish, then the rest of Tharion’s, before he left the mess hall. The ship halls were quiet. Using the walk to stretch and test the strength of his healed wings, he strode in silence along the glass-lined corridors, nothing but dark ocean beyond. All that crushing water held back by the Ocean Queen’s magic. Hunt could only marvel.