But Bryce didn’t dwell on all the work they’d done yesterday, or all that lay ahead. Reorganizing the city’s leadership, Sailings for the dead, and waiting for the big announcement: which Archangel would be tapped by the Asteri to rule over Valbara.

Odds of them being decent were slim to none, but Bryce didn’t dwell on that, either, as she slipped into the still-dim streets, Syrinx tugging on his leash as she tucked her new phone into her pocket. She’d defied the odds yesterday, so maybe the gods would throw them another bone and convince the Asteri to send someone who wasn’t a psychopath.

At the very least, there would be no more death bargains for Hunt. Nothing more to atone for. No, he would be a free and true member of the triarii, if he wished. He had yet to decide.

Bryce waved to Naomi, and the angel waved back. She’d been too tired yesterday to object to having a guard, since Hunt didn’t trust the Asteri, her father, or any other power brokers to stay the Hel away. After letting Syrinx do his business, she shook her head when the chimera made to turn back toward the apartment. “No breakfast yet, buddy,” she said, aiming for the river.

Syrinx yowled with displeasure, but trotted along, sniffing at everything in his path until the broad band of the Istros appeared, its riverside walkway empty at this early hour. Tharion had called her yesterday, promising the River Queen’s full support for any resources she needed.

Bryce hadn’t the nerve to ask whether that support was due to her being the bastard daughter of the Autumn King, a Starborn Fae, or the bearer of Luna’s Horn. Perhaps all of them.

Bryce settled onto one of the wooden benches along the quay, the Bone Quarter a swirling, misty wall across the water. The mer had come—had helped so many escape. Even the otters had grabbed the smallest of the city’s residents and carried them down to the Blue Court. The House of Many Waters had risen to the occasion. The shifters had risen to it.

But the Fae … FiRo had sustained the least damage. The Fae had suffered the fewest casualties. It was no surprise, when their shields had been the first to go up. And had not opened to allow anyone inside.

Bryce blocked out the thought as Syrinx leapt onto the bench beside her, nails clicking on the wood, and plopped his furry butt next to hers. Bryce slid her phone from her pocket and wrote to Juniper, Tell Madame Kyrah I’ll be at her next dance class.

June wrote back almost immediately. The city was attacked and this is what you’re thinking about? A few seconds later she added, But I will.