It was not a cheeky, charming plea. Not as Bryce lifted her gaze to the camera.
Fear shone there. Stark, bright fear. Every instinct in Hunt went on roaring alert.
“Governor,” the Autumn King said to Sandriel, “I would like an explanation.”
But before Sandriel could reply, Ruhn quietly ordered, with eyes glued to the feeds, “Flynn, send an Aux unit to Griffin Antiquities. Right now.”
Flynn instantly had his phone out, fingers flying.
“Micah has not done anything wrong,” Sandriel snapped at the Fae Prince. “Except demonstrate his poor choice in females.”
Hunt’s snarl ripped from him.
It would have earned him a whip of cold wind from Sandriel, he knew, had the sound not been hidden by matching snarls from Declan and Ruhn.
Tristan Flynn was snapping at someone, “Get over to Griffin Antiquities right now. Yes, in the Old Square. No—just go. That is a fucking order.”
Ruhn barked another command at the Fae lord, but Micah began speaking again.
“You’ve certainly been busy.” Micah motioned to the table. “Looking for a loophole?”
Bryce swallowed as she began assembling a plate for Micah. “Hunt is my friend.”
Those were—those were law books on the table. Hunt’s stomach dropped to his feet.
“Ah yes,” Micah said, leaning back in his chair. “I admire that about you.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Fury bit out.
“Loyal unto death—and beyond,” Micah continued. “Even with all the proof in the world, you still didn’t believe Danika was little better than a drug-addicted whore.”
Sabine and several wolves growled. Hunt heard Amelie Ravenscroft say to Sabine, “We should send a wolf pack.”
“All the top packs are here,” Sabine murmured, eyes fixed on the feed. “Every top security force is here. I only left a few behind.”
But like a struck match, Bryce’s entire countenance shifted. Fear pivoted into bright, sharp anger. Hunt ordinarily thrilled to see that blazing look. Not now.
Use your fucking head, he silently begged her. Be smart.
Bryce let Micah’s insult settle, surveying the platter of cheese and grapes she was assembling. “Who knows what the truth is?” she asked blandly.
“The philosophers in this library certainly had opinions on the matter.”
“On Danika?”
“Don’t play stupid.” Micah’s smile widened. He gestured to the books around them. “Do you know that harboring these volumes earns you a one-way ticket to execution?”
“Seems like a lot of fuss over some books.”
“Humans died for these books,” Micah purred, motioning to the shelves towering around them. “Banned titles, if I’m not mistaken, many of them supposed to only exist in the Asteri Archives. Evolution, mathematics, theories to disprove the superiority of the Vanir and Asteri. Some from philosophers people claimed existed before the Asteri arrived.” A soft, awful laugh. “Liars and heretics, who admitted they were wrong when the Asteri tortured them for the truth. They were burned alive with the heretical works used as kindling. And yet here, they survive. All the knowledge of the ancient world. Of a world before Asteri. And theories of a world in which the Vanir are not your masters.”
“Interesting,” Bryce said. She still did not turn to face him.
Ruhn said to Jesiba, “What, exactly, is in that library?”
Jesiba said nothing. Absolutely nothing. Her gray eyes promised cold death, though.
Micah went on, unwittingly answering the prince’s question. “Do you even know what you are surrounded by, Bryce Quinlan? This is the Great Library of Parthos.”
The words clanged through the room. Jesiba refused to so much as open her mouth.
Bryce, to her credit, said, “Sounds like a lot of conspiracy theory crap. Parthos is a bedtime story for humans.”
Micah chuckled. “Says the female with the Archesian amulet around her neck. The amulet of the priestesses who once served and guarded Parthos. I think you know what’s here—that you spend your days in the midst of all that remains of the library after most of it burned at Vanir hands fifteen thousand years ago.”
Hunt’s stomach turned. He could have sworn a chill breeze drifted from Jesiba.
Micah went on idly, “Did you know that during the First Wars, when the Asteri gave the order, it was at Parthos that a doomed human army made its final stand against the Vanir? To save proof of what they were before the Rifts opened—to save the books. A hundred thousand humans marched that day knowing they would die, and lose the war.” Micah’s smile grew. “All to buy the priestesses time to grab the most vital volumes. They loaded them onto ships and vanished. I am curious to learn how they landed with Jesiba Roga.”
The sorceress watching her truth unfold on the screens still did not speak. To acknowledge what had been suggested. Did it have something to do with why she’d left the witches? Or why she’d joined the Under-King?
Micah leaned back in his seat, wings rustling. “I’ve long suspected that the remains of Parthos were housed here—a record of two thousand years of human knowledge before the Asteri arrived. I took one look at some of the titles on the shelves and knew it to be true.”
No one so much as blinked as the truth settled. But Jesiba pointed to the screens and said to Tristan Flynn, to Sabine, her voice shaking, “Tell the Aux to move their fucking asses. Save those books. I beg you.”
Hunt ground his teeth. Of course the books were more important to her than Bryce.
“The Aux shall do no such thing,” Sandriel said coldly. She smiled at Jesiba as the female went rigid. “And whatever Micah has in mind for your little assistant is going to look mild compared to what the Asteri do to you for harboring that lying rubbish—”
But Bryce picked up the cheese tray and glass of wine. “Look, I only work here, Governor.”
She faced Micah at last. She was wearing athletic clothes: leggings and a long-sleeved white T-shirt. Her neon-pink sneakers shone like firstlight in the dim library.
“Run,” Flynn urged to the screen, as if Bryce could hear him. “Fucking run, Bryce.”
Sandriel glared at the Fae warrior. “You dare accuse a Governor of foul play?” But doubt shone in her eyes.
The Fae lord ignored her, his eyes again on the screens.
Hunt couldn’t move. Not as Bryce set down the cheese platter, the wine, and said to Micah, “You came here looking for me, and here I am.” A half smile. “That Summit must have been a real bore.” She crossed her arms behind her back, the portrait of casualness. She winked. “Are you going to ask me out again?”
Micah didn’t see the angle of the second feed that Declan pulled up—how her fingers began flicking behind her back. Pointing to the stairs. A silent, frantic order to Lehabah and Syrinx to flee. Neither moved.
“As you once said to me,” Micah replied smoothly, “I’m not interested.”
“Too bad.” Silence throbbed in the conference room.
Bryce gestured again behind her back, her fingers shaking now. Please, those hands seemed to say. Please run. While he’s distracted by me.
“Have a seat,” Micah said, gesturing to the chair across the table. “We might as well be civilized about it.”
Bryce obeyed, batting her eyelashes. “About what?”
“About you giving me Luna’s Horn.”
77
Bryce knew there was little chance of this ending well.
But if Jesiba had seen her messages, maybe it wouldn’t be in vain. Maybe everyone would know what had happened to her. Maybe they could save the books, if the protective spells on them held out against an Archangel’s wrath. Even if the gallery’s enchantments had not.
Bryce said smoothly to Micah, “I have no idea where the Horn is.”
His smile didn’t waver. “Try again.”
“I have no idea where the Horn is, Governor?”
He braced his powerful forearms on the table. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway?” Her heart raced and raced.
Micah chuckled. “I think you figured it out. Likely at the same moment I did a few days ago.”
“I’m flattered you think I’m that smart.”
“Not you.” Another cold laugh. “Danika Fendyr was the smart one. She stole the Horn from the temple, and you knew her well enough to finally realize what she did with it.”
“Why would Danika have ever wanted the Horn?” Bryce asked innocently. “It’s broken.”
“It was cleaved. And I’m guessing you already learned what could repair it at last.” Her heart thundered as Micah growled, “Synth.”
She got to her feet, her knees shaking only slightly. “Governor or not, this is private property. If you want to burn me at the stake with all these books, you’ll need a warrant.”
Bryce reached the steps. Syrinx and Lehabah hadn’t moved, though.
“Hand over the Horn.”
“I told you, I don’t know where it is.”