Page 358 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Freya rolled her eyes skyward like we were the exhausting ones, then banked a sharp left toward the safes. “For starters, if you’re going to lure a psychopath like Moros into a trap, knowing he’s laying one of his own, you’ve gotta make it look like you’re drastically outnumbered.”

“They still think Aren is dead,” Cyrus reminded us, like a college professor laying breadcrumbs for students to pick up. When the only response was the continued scuff of boots over concrete as we followed in Freya’s wake, he sighed in exasperation. “We look weak. They know Ambroise left to try to get Grayshell back into The Middle, and August has done a splendid job looking like a rogue fucking agent. We need to magnify those appearances.”

“Create holes in the armor,” Carr agreed, nodding beside me.

“You want us to exploit this rift with Reyna?” I pressed.

Freya nodded as we turned down the final hallway, the guards at the end straightening at their post when they spotted us. “Whether we want to admit it or not, at least one hierarchy has been infiltrated by a spy or two. They’ve always been one step ahead of us.”

Reyna had warned me as much. Their identity was another question. “What about Nix?”

“No sign of him,” Cyrus clipped.

“Right, but his familiar could still be gathering information, couldn’t it?”

“No sign of Eris, either. Poe’s been solely focused on that mission since the burning of the boats.”

“Well, he didn’t just vanish.”

Before Cyrus could open his mouth, Freya snapped, “Who the mole is isn’t as important as what information they’re relaying.” Her tone told me to shut my fucking mouth and keep up. We came to a halt in front of the guards, whose skeptical eyes scanned over us. But this was Grayshell’s base. The fracture in the council held no weight in these walls.

I wove between the guards, drawing a blade as Freya sighed and held out her arm. I nicked her forearm and smeared the payment over the runes. The mechanisms in Ansel’s base were all top of the fucking line—the safe doors sliding open on nearly soundless tracks to reveal the gaping maw of our treasure chest.

We stepped inside, lights humming to life over the glorified safe-deposit boxes. Freya went straight to hers, smeared blood across the front, and pulled out the black key as the lock clicked open.

Cyrus snorted, shooting her an amused look as the number sixty-nine came into view. I grimaced, trying really fucking hard not to think about it, then stared skyward when Freya smirked back.

Fuck me.

A throat cleared behind me, and I nearly hugged Tessa as she nudged her way between them. “That’s it?” Leaning forward to study the shimmering onyx stone, she blew out a heavy breath as she memorized the details. Ornately carved and glittering with an illusion like starlight, the Obsidian Crown was more art than adornment. “Dark fucking energy,” she noted, shaking her head.

“Yeah, well, it’s meant to siphon magic from the bearer to the slaver. Only Kade would be able to use it without losing himself to the magic.”

“Will it work?” I asked, watching Tessa as she straightened, meeting that same piercing gaze her father liked to level us with.

Slowly, one corner of her mouth tipped up. She nodded. “I think Moros will punch a hole right through our defenses. This spellwork is…” She huffed out a reverent breath. “Immaculate.”

“Good,” Cyrus said. “I didn’t memorize all that fucking lore for nothing.”

“Can your dad handle it?” I pressed—the most crucial part of Freya’s harebrained but brilliant plot. With Alec locked onto Reyna’s side, Marcus was our best spell weaver.

Tessa’s smirk said enough, and all of us nodded. For the first time in months, I felt like we might actually make headway.

“Do they know we have it?”

Freya shook her head. “No—as far as I can tell, there’s no trigger on the wards of the catacombs. If Moros was going to come after it, it would’ve been there. I stole it lifetimes ago, and I’m starting to think that Lonan doesn’t always tell brother dearest every minute detail of his plans.”

I’d come to the same conclusion, but wasn’t about to agree aloud. If anything had become clear, it was that nothing made sense where Adrastos was concerned.

“How do we make sure they do?”

“Leave that to me,” Freya said, flashing a devilish smile.

“And Reyna?”

“Blaz will stand with us—with or without his mother,” Tessa announced with enough confidence to make me raise a brow.

“Assuming he…” Freya swallowed her words, and I set a hand on her slender shoulder.