Page 36 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Nests

Warrick

I step next to Rayze, the light piercing through The Crown Prism scattering. Refracted lines weave into suspended maps, threads shifting in topographic layers. I slowly pivot my body, every angle revealing warped cities and borders.

Rayze takes my shoulders and lines me up, the distorted map configuring into an accurate layout of the realm. All of Mirror laid out in carefully crafted precision.

What do you see, Heir? Omen asks.

I laugh under my breath and shake my head. “Fucking incredible.” I run my fingers through threads mimicking Synlon.

“It’s true then,” Aleksi murmurs, and I realize how closely they’re watching me. “You really do have magic.”

“The Crown Prism only reveals the Threads of Fate to those blessed with a shard of Fate,” Rayze explains. She runs a finger over my knuckles, and I shiver. “You would see an empty building if you were still mortal.”

Then she drops into a crouch and peers through the map’s underside. “Reveal,” she commands.

White sparks through my angel’s eyes, and threads weave along the map into small flags. They pop up by the dozens as she lifts from her crouch, her fingers twitching as if she’s weaving each flag—and maybe she is.

I study their locations. Nests . Way points for the Skin Trade. Most sit buried in Synlon’s and Rathem’s Undergrounds, but the flags thin as Rayze moves toward the borders of The Storm and The Vile.

It’s impressive they found any near the latter.

The Vile Bossdom is sealed behind ice, the City of Alodon nearly impossible to reach unless you were born there. Even then, Vile cronies are more likely to sacrifice you than offer shelter.

No one leaves. No one enters. Even their Underground isn’t accessible.

The Storm and the City of Gronem are also walled off but less restrictive. Ezma keeps her Underground trade open—for now. Satori and I’ve suspected she will change that and soon.

“This is where our intel stops.” Rayze runs her finger through two separate points.

One in Alodon. One in Gronem. “Several of my prey talked about nests in both locations. Final processing points for Skin to be inducted into The Storm and The Vile Bossdoms. We shut those down, make them think the trade’s been compromised—”

“Sorry,” I interrupt. “Did you say prey ?”

“—and The Storm and The Vile will withdraw their alliances with The Serpent,” she continues, talking over me with a small grin. “But we’ll start here.”

She gestures to a nest marked with a large flag in Rathem. “The Kraken doesn’t have as much security as The Storm and The Vile. Dismantling that nest will be the last straw for Torren Trask. You know, after you put his son in a coma.”

“Nice job, by the way,” Aleksi adds with a growl. She glares at me, her jaw clenched. “I’ve cleaned up that fucking mess for over a month now. Do you know how sensitive head injuries are to heal, Ivor?”

“You’re saving Ruel?” I ask. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Aleksi tilts her head and looks me over with stark disapproval. Then she flashes a smile. “Heirs are malleable.”

I scowl.

“So?” Rayze asks, cutting between us and pinning me with a hard look. “Where are they?”

“Where’s what, angel?” I ask, softening as those green eyes shimmer with desire. Our Bond hums pleasantly in my gut. She’s enjoying all this—the map, the reveal. “Whatever you want is yours.”

Sonya signs something out of my peripheral, and Aleksi snorts. Rayze blushes while Omen gives another one of those creepy, breathy laughs.

“What? What did she say?” I place a hand on the small of Rayze’s back.

She leans into my touch before jerking away with a frown. “It’s the Bond,” she mumbles. “Just the Bond.”

This? Again? I wonder if my tongue could finally work out that denial. I clutch the back of her coat, and the adorable pink across her face deepens.

“You’re blushing , Sin,” Aleksi says with a smile. “I’ve seen you come with less color on your cheeks. Well, if you don’t count all the blood.”

I blink. “Say that again?”

Focus. All of you , Omen’s voice cuts through our minds. Shoulders stiffen. Smiles press into grim lines.

Fuck that. “Did you and Red used to date?” I ask, my eyes narrowing on Aleksi.

“My hair is orange, idiot,” she snaps. “Very, very orange .”

I eye her curls. “There’s definitely some red in there.”

Rayze blows out a breath. “Warrick—no. Ender’s just walked in on me a few times during shared missions.”

I won’t ask again , Omen demands, and those terrifying needles elongate from her fingers.

“The nests,” Rayze says and points to Gronem and Alodon. “Where are the final processing points for The Storm and The Vile?”

I analyze the map, looking over the outline of threads around Gronem. They mimic the domed, iron cage The Storm built around the city. Within are high rises and thin roads for riding stormrigs. Some nests are marked, but I find the place Rayze missed.

“Here,” I mutter and point at the compound marked as Gronem’s sewage system.

Rayze turns a confused look to Sonya, who signs with a shake of her head. Rayze stares at the place I marked. “Sonya knows Gronem inside and out. There’s nothing in that spot except run-off and pipelines.”

“Beneath is The Womb.” I rub my chin. “I took a shipment there once, years ago, before Russell passed off the job to Cyrus Vandem, the Commander of the Chrome Guard.”

“How do you know it’s even still there?”

“Vandem still makes the deliveries.” I chew on my tongue and trail my finger through Gronem. “There’s an actual sewage system, but it’s not there. It’s built into the Underground like the rest of the cities. The Storm just keeps it marked as sewage to keep trespassers out.”

The Womb? Omen asks.

I nod with a grimace. “Ezma’s always liked her metaphors. Any Skin who enter The Womb are reborn.”

Mutants , Sonya signs. That one, I recognize.

“And Alodon?” Aleksi asks.

I take a step back. “Later.” I look between them. “You want The Womb, then we need to leave now.”

“Ivor, you don’t order us,” Aleksi warns. “Rayze was right. Taking the nest in Rathem is the most logical first move.”

“Vandem only delivers a shipment once a year,” I push. “It’s our largest one, and as long as my vicious didn’t keep me in that temple for too long—”

“Two weeks,” Rayze tells me.

I run my palm over my face. “Two fucking weeks, angel? Yeah. He’s there then. Processing can take up to a week with the haul, but he’d be in Gronem by now.”

Rayze looks to the Daughters. “We’ll go.”

“Sin,” Aleksi says, her brows drawn. “We haven’t scoped this place out. We don’t know how many cronies The Storm will have guarding it or what the safest way in and out will be. We don’t need to follow a shipment. We know where the nest is. We’ll make a plan. Then we’ll go.”

“You do need a shipment,” I disagree. “The Storm has upped all of her patrols since The Bid. Without a reason to get inside Gronem’s borders, there’s no access. Even as an Heir, I can’t get in.”

Sonya signs a response, nodding her head toward me in agreement.

Aleksi reaches under her glasses and massages the bridge of her nose. “Okay. Fine. If Slayer agrees that’s the smartest move, then we’ll figure it out.”

“It’s that or wait another year,” Rayze says, her voice low, “and I’m not waiting.”

I can’t go with you. I’ve already been away from Alodon too long , Omen says. But send me word when you’ve located the nest in The Vile Bossdom. I’ll scope out the location.

Heads nod in agreement, and The First Daughter vanishes. Just fucking dissolves.

Alright.

“So, we’re fighting together?” I ask. “You all have cool names. Do I get one, too? It only seems fair.”

“Warrick of Quiet,” Rayze grits out. “The always silent Heir who doesn’t utter another word, or he’ll get us killed.”

I hum and drag a finger over that pretty neck, dipping to her ear. “But if I’m quiet, I can’t tell you how much I need to—”

“ No ,” Aleksi spits. “Absolutely not.”

I straighten and purposefully follow my angel’s blush with my fingertip to the corner of her lips. “‘Fuck your mouth.’ The rest of that sentence, Red, was fuck your mouth . I’ll say what I want to my Bonded, when I want, and I really don’t give a fuck if you don’t like it.”

Rayze smacks my hand away. “Sorry,” she apologizes to Aleksi and Sonya, who glare in my direction. “I’m still breaking him in. Give it a few weeks.”

Depending on the prizes involved, she’s probably right.

“I’m so happy he’s here,” Aleksi says, sharp and sarcastic as she strides to the doors of The Crown Prism and they jerk open. “So, so thrilled.”

On the far end of the platform is a standing arch, a mirror settled within. Its silver surface ripples as Aleksi approaches it, plucking a small pin from its clipped place on her petticoat. She slides her thumb down its side, and I lurch back as it snaps into a spear.

Rayze chuckles and weaves her fingers between mine. “Take Ender’s hand, my snake.”

Aleksi and I exchange scowls. She grabs my wrist in a death grip as Sonya takes Rayze’s other hand, the four of us connected.

My angel takes a breath, cracks her neck, and extends a foot into the portal. “Destined to strike,” she mumbles.

“Fated to win,” Aleksi returns and Sonya signs.

Then—the portal swallows us.