Page 181 of House of Flame and Shadow

Nausea churned in his gut.

“Take a seat, Ithan,” Hypaxia said gently. Greenish light wreathed her fingers as she approached the table holding a bundle in her hands.

“Is that a sewing kit?” He was going to puke everywhere.

Jesiba snorted. “You’d better hope her head’s back on when Hypaxia wakes her.”

The former witch-queen pulled a glowing syringe of firstlight from a cabinet and laid it on a tray atop a wheeled cart. “As soon as she wakes, an injection of firstlight will heal the damage. But the head needs to be attached first so that the tendons can regrow and latch on.”

“Okay,” Ithan said, taking a deep breath against his rising nausea. “Okay.” Fuck, he was a monster for having made this necessary.

“Here we go,” Hypaxia said.

Jesiba caught Ithan’s eye. “Sure you want to resurrect a Fendyr?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t face the answer. So he said nothing.

Hypaxia began chanting.

* * *

Hunt had been in Morven Donnall’s throne room for all of ten seconds and he already hated it.

After the shining white boat had guided them through the mists, he’d expected some sort of summer paradise to lie beyond. Not a cloudy sky above a land of dense green hills and a gray-stoned castle perched on a cliff above a winding—also gray—river. In the distance, thatched-roof cottages marked farmsteads, and a small city of two- and three-story buildings crusted the hill, up to the castle itself.

No skyscrapers. No highways. No cars. The lamps he could make out were flame, not firstlight.

The boat sailed down the river toward the cliff, entering the castle through a yawning cave at its base. Everyone had stayed silent throughout the journey, assuming the stag on the prow had ears that worked as well as its mouth, and could broadcast every word to the male waiting in the castle for them.

A male now seated before them, on a throne seemingly crafted from a single set of antlers. The beast who’d grown them had to have been colossal, the likes of which didn’t exist elsewhere on Midgard. Did stags that big roam around here? The thought was … not comforting.

But neither were the shadows that curled like snakes around the king, wild and twining. A coiled crown of them sat atop Morven’s dark head, blacker than the Pit.

Bryce and Ruhn stood at the head of their little group, and Hunt swapped a look with Baxian, whose frown told Hunt he was deeply unimpressed by this place.

“Could use a reno, if you ask me,” Tharion muttered from Hunt’s other side, and Hunt’s mouth twitched upward.

The mer had some nerve, cracking jokes when he’d just acted directly against the Ocean Queen’s orders. Yeah, Hunt was glad to have Ketos with them, but fuck—what had the mer been thinking, jumping into the boat?

Hunt knew what he’d been thinking, actually. And didn’t blame the mer for his choice, but they had enough enemies out there as it was. If this somehow provoked the Ocean Queen to work against them …

From the glares the others kept throwing Ketos’s way, they weren’t happy about this development, either. But right now, they had another ruler to deal with.

“You bring traitors and enemies of the empire to my home,” the Fae King intoned. The shadows around him halted their twining—predators readying to attack.

But Bryce pointed to herself, then to Ruhn, the portrait of innocent confusion, and said, “Are you talking to me or him?”

Baxian ducked his head, as if trying not to smile. Hunt felt inclined to do the same, but he didn’t dare take his focus off the stone-faced ruler or the shadows at his command.

“This male”—a disdainful look at Ruhn—“has been disowned by his father. You are the only royal standing before me.”

“Oof,” Bryce said to Ruhn. “So harsh.” Ruhn’s eyes glittered, but he said nothing. She gestured to the dim, small castle around them. “You know, I’m surprised by all this doom and gloom. Cormac said it’d be nicer.”

Morven’s dark eyes flashed. The shadow-crown atop his head seemed to darken further. “That name is no longer recognized or acknowledged here.”

“Yeah?” Ruhn said, crossing his arms. “Well, it is with us. Cormac gave his life to make this world a better place.”

“He was a liar and a traitor—not just to the empire, but to his birthright.”

---