The Autumn King said hoarsely, “She made the Drop alone. Danika Fendyr is dead—she is not a true Anchor. Bryce has no way back to life.”

93

This was the cradle of all life, this place.

There was a physical ground beneath her, and she had the sense of an entire world above her, full of distant, twinkling lights. But this was the bottom of the sea. The dark trench that cut through the skin of the earth.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at all. Not with Danika standing before her. Holding her.

Bryce peeled away far enough to look at her beautiful, angular face. The corn-silk hair. It was the same, right down to the amethyst, sapphire, and rose streaks. She’d somehow forgotten the exact features of Danika’s face, but … there they were.

Bryce said, “You came.”

Danika’s smile was soft. “You asked for help.”

“Are you … are you alive? Over there, I mean.”

“No.” Danika shook her head. “No, Bryce. This, what you see …” She gestured to herself. The familiar jeans and old band T-shirt. “This is just the spark that’s left. What was resting over there.”

“But it’s you. This is you.”

“Yes.” Danika peered at the churning darkness above them, the entire ocean above. “And you don’t have much time to make the Ascent, Bryce.”

Bryce snorted. “I’m not making the Ascent.”

Danika blinked. “What do you mean?”

Bryce stepped back. “I’m not making it.” Because this was where her homeless soul would stay, if she failed. Her body would die in the world above, and her soul that she’d traded away to the Under-King would be left to wander this place. With Danika.

Danika crossed her arms. “Why?”

Bryce blinked furiously. “Because it got too hard. Without you. It is too hard without you.”

“That’s bullshit,” Danika snarled. “So you’ll just give up on everything? Bryce, I am dead. I am gone. And you’ll trade your entire life for this tiny piece of me that’s left?” Disappointment shuttered her caramel eyes. “The friend I knew wouldn’t have done that.”

Bryce’s voice broke as she said, “We were supposed to do this together. We were supposed to live out our lives together.”

Danika’s face softened. “I know, B.” She took her hand. “But that’s not how it turned out.”

Bryce bowed her head, thinking she’d crack apart. “I miss you. Every moment of every day.”

“I know,” Danika said again, and put a hand over her heart. “And I’ve felt it. I’ve seen it.”

“Why did you lie—about the Horn?”

“I didn’t lie,” Danika said simply. “I just didn’t tell you.”

“You lied about the tattoo,” Bryce countered.

“To keep you safe,” Danika said. “To keep the Horn safe, yeah, but mostly to keep you safe in case the worst happened to me.”

“Well, the worst did happen to you,” Bryce said, instantly regretting it when Danika flinched.

But then Danika said, “You traded your place in the Bone Quarter for me.”

Bryce began crying. “It was the least I could do.”

Tears formed in Danika’s eyes. “You didn’t think I’d make it?” She threw her a sharp, pained grin. “Asshole.”

But Bryce shook with the force of her weeping. “I couldn’t … I couldn’t take that risk.”

Danika brushed back a piece of Bryce’s hair.

Bryce sniffled and said, “I killed Micah for what he did. To you. To Lehabah.” Her heart strained. “Is—is she over in the Bone Quarter?”

“I don’t know. And yeah—I saw what happened in the gallery.” Danika didn’t explain more about the particulars. “We all saw.”

That word snagged. We.

Bryce’s lips trembled. “Is Connor with you?”

“He is. And the rest of the pack. They bought me time with the Reapers. To get to the Gate. They’re holding them off, but not for long, Bryce. I can’t stay here with you.” She shook her head. “Connor would have wanted more for you than this.” She stroked the back of Bryce’s hand with her thumb. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to stop fighting.”

Bryce wiped at her face again. “I didn’t. Not until now. But now I’m … It’s all just fucked. And I’m so tired of it feeling that way. I’m done.”

Danika asked softly, “What about the angel?”

Bryce’s head snapped up. “What about him?”

Danika gave her a knowing smile. “If you want to ignore the fact that you’ve got your family who loves you no matter what, fine—but the angel remains.”

Bryce withdrew her hand from Danika’s. “You’re really trying to convince me to make the Ascent for a guy?”

“Is Hunt Athalar really just some guy to you?” Danika’s smile turned gentle. “And why is it somehow a mark against your strength to admit that there is someone, who happens to be male, worth returning to? Someone who I know made you feel like things are far from fucked.”

Bryce crossed her arms. “So what.”

“He’s healed, Bryce,” Danika said. “You healed him with the firstlight.”

Bryce’s breath shuddered out of her. She’d done all of this for that wild hope.

She swallowed, looking at the ground that was not earth, but the very base of Self, of the world. She whispered, “I’m scared.”

Danika grabbed her hand again. “That’s the point of it, Bryce. Of life. To live, to love, knowing that it might all vanish tomorrow. It makes everything that much more precious.” She took Bryce’s face in her hands and pressed their brows together.

Bryce closed her eyes and inhaled Danika’s scent, somehow still present even in this form. “I don’t think I can make it. Back up.”

Danika pulled away, peering at the impossible distance overhead. Then at the road that stretched before them. The runway. Its end was a free fall into eternal darkness. Into nothingness. But she said, “Just try, Bryce. One try. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Even if you can’t see me. I will always be with you.”

Bryce didn’t look at that too-short runway. The endless ocean above them, separating her from life. She just memorized the lines of Danika’s face, as she had not had the chance to do before. “I love you, Danika,” she whispered.

Danika’s throat bobbed. She cocked her head, the movement purely lupine. As if listening to something. “Bryce, you have to hurry.” She grabbed her hand, squeezing. “You have to decide now.”

The timer on Bryce’s life showed two minutes left.

Her dead body lay sprawled on the stones beside the faintly glowing Gate.

Declan ran a hand over his chest. He didn’t dare contact Ruhn. Not yet. Couldn’t bear to.

“There’s no way to help her?” Hypaxia whispered to the silent room. “No way at all?”

No. Declan had used the past four minutes to run a search of every public and private database in Midgard for a miracle. He’d found nothing.