She’d never hated the king more.
“I only hope that my grandson isn’t overly cruel to you behind closed doors, my dear,” Selia said softly. “Powerful men, full of strength and anger . . . they are prone to violent outbursts. Wives and mothers can only hope to endure it.”
“Endure it? You can’t be serious! If Magnus ever raised a hand to me, I’d—”
“What? You barely come to his shoulder in height, and he must nearly be twice your weight. The best thing you can do in your position, Cleiona, is to be as pleasant and agreeable as possible at all times—as all women must.”
Cleo straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I didn’t have the great privilege of knowing my mother, but if she’s anything like me, anything like my sister, then I know she wouldn’t have been as pleasant and agreeable as possible in the face of abuse, not by anyone at any time. And neither would I! I’d kill anyone who attempted to beat me!”
A slow smile crept across Selia’s face. “My grandson has chosen to love a girl with both courage and strength, just as his father did. I was testing you, of course.”
“Testing me?”
“Look at me, dear. Do I look like a woman who would let a man raise a hand to her?”
“No,” Cleo answered honestly.
“Quite right. I’m very glad we had a chance to talk today, my dear. I know everything I need to know now.”
She reached out and gave Cleo’s hand a squeeze, then left the room.
That had been the most bizarre conversation of Cleo’s entire life.
“Perhaps I’ll make a visit to the tavern today myself,” she muttered. “Why should Magnus be the only one around here who gets to drink wine in a foolish attempt to escape his problems?”
As she stood, something caught her eye out the window at the back of the inn. She stepped closer. Olivia stood in the courtyard. Oddly, the girl wore nothing but a white sheet wrapped around her body, one that Cleo recognized from the innkeeper’s wife’s daily washing.
Whatever manner of attire, the sight of the girl came as a great relief. Cleo rose and went outside to join her, glancing around curiously.
“Olivia! Are Nic and Jonas with you? Where did the three of you go?”
Olivia’s expression held deep uncertainty. “I need to leave again immediately, but I wanted to return here first to see you.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“It’s time for me to go back to my home. Jonas’s path has successfully intersected with his destiny, and my time with him is at an end.”
“Apologies.” Cleo shook her head, utterly confused. “Jonas’s destiny? What in the world are you talking about?”
“It’s not my place to explain such things. All I know is that I can’t watch over him any longer, since I might be tempted to interfere.” She frowned. “This must sound ludicrous to you. I know you don’t know who I really am.”
“You mean that you’re a Watcher?”
Olivia’s gaze snapped to Cleo’s. “How do you know that?”
Cleo laughed uneasily at Olivia’s look of shock. “Jonas told me. He trusts me, and so should you. I promise to keep your rather incredible secret, but please . . . tell me what’s wrong. Are you upset only about leaving Jonas?”
“No, that’s not the only reason. I . . . I went with Nic and Jonas to the compound where the empress is residing.”
Cleo’s eyes went wide. “That’s where you were? Whose foolish plan was this?”
“Prince Magnus threatened Nic,” Olivia explained. “He threatened your life as well if Nic didn’t pursue Ashur and retrieve the Kindred orbs.”
Cleo frowned. “That can’t be right. Magnus wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I assure you, he did. Nic never would have left your side otherwise.” Olivia’s emerald-green eyes flashed with anger. “It’s the prince’s fault this happened. I lost Nic in the crowd during the assassination attempt on Amara. I saw him for only a moment as he fell under the blade. I . . . I believe it was over quickly.”
Cleo shook her head as her palms began to prickle with sweat. “What? I don’t understand. He fell under a blade? What blade? What do you mean?”
Olivia’s expression held only sorrow. “Nic is dead. He is one of many who were killed during the aftermath of a rebel assassination attempt. I must leave Mytica now, and I strongly urge you to do the same. You’re not safe here with someone like Magnus, who would send a boy like Nic off to his death. It’s not right, princess, none of this is. The world is spiraling out of control, and I fear that it may already be too late to save it. I’m so sorry I had to tell you this, but I thought you deserved to know.”
Olivia let go of Cleo’s hand and took a few steps backward, her expression pained.
“Be well, princess,” she said. With that, her dark, flawless skin transformed into golden feathers, her form shifting into that of a hawk, and she took flight.
Cleo watched her, far too stunned by what she’d been told to appreciate the sight of true and undeniable magic unfolding before her very eyes.
She wasn’t sure how long it was that she stood in silence in the courtyard, staring up at the bright sky, before she turned and stumbled back into the inn. Her knees gave out under her before she reached a chair.
Every inch of her trembled, but she didn’t cry. It was too much to process. Too unbelievable. It couldn’t be true. If it was, if Nic was dead, then she wanted to die too.
“Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
Before she realized what was happening, Cleo found herself swept up off the floor and into a pair of strong arms.
“Are you hurt?” Magnus stroked the hair off her forehead, cupping her face in his hands. “Damn it, Cleo. Answer me!”
Foggily, she registered the concern in his deep brown eyes and the deep crease between his brows from his frown.
“Magnus . . .” she began, drawing in deep, shuddery breaths.
“Yes, my love. Talk to me. Please.”
“Tell me the truth . . .”
“Of course. What? What do you need to know?”
“Did you threaten to kill me if Nic didn’t go after Ashur?”
His pained expression, utterly fixed on her, slowly gave way to the coolness of the mask he once wore to cover his emotions with her. “Did he tell you that? Has he returned?”
“Answer me. Did you or did you not threaten me to him?”
He held her furious gaze steadily. “Cassian required the right motivation.”
“That’s a yes.”
“I told him only what he needed to hear to fix this. To—”
Cleo slapped him so hard that her hand stung from it. He pressed his hand to his left cheek and stared at her, stunned.
His eyes narrowed. “You dare—”
“He’s dead!” she screamed before he could say another word. “Because of what you said! My last friend in the entire world is dead because of you!”
Confusion now crossed his face. “That can’t be.”
“Can’t it? Don’t people die when they come anywhere near you and your monstrous family?” She raked her hands through her hair, wanting to yank it all out by its roots, wanting to feel physical pain so she could concentrate on something other than her shattered heart.
“Who told you this?” Magnus demanded.
“Olivia came back. She’s gone now, so you can’t try to bully her into doing what you say too.”
“Olivia. Yes, well, I don’t know Olivia from a lump on the ground. Neither do you. All we know about her is that she’s an ally of Jonas—someone who hated me enough to want me dead until very recently. For all I know, that goal never changed.”
“Why would she lie about something like this?” her voice broke.
“Because people lie to get what they want.”
&nbs
p; “I suppose you should know.”
“Yes. The feeling is entirely mutual, princess,” he said. “Between the two of us, I believe you’ve racked up far more lies than I have. Also, may I remind you that you saw Ashur die with your own eyes, yet he still lives. You have no proof that Nic is dead—only someone else’s words. Words are not to be trusted, not from anyone.”
“That’s your answer?” Cleo stared at him, realizing she barely knew this person before her. “I tell you a boy who was like my brother has been killed because of you, and you simply tell me I’ve been lied to?”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it?”
“You take no responsibility for all the damage you’ve done. None at all!” She tried with all her might to stay composed, to not lose herself in the grief and rage battling within her. “I’ve tried to see the good in you, but then you do something unforgiveable like this. Go on,” she snarled. “Try to defend yourself. Say that Nic hated you, so why wouldn’t you wish him dead? Go on, do it!”
“I won’t deny it. Life would be much easier for me if that jagged pebble in my shoe was discarded once and for all. But I would never truly wish him dead, because I know that you care for him.”
“Care for him? I love him!” she cried out. “And if he’s really dead, I—”
“What? Will you lose that last sliver of hope you’ve been clinging to? Will you curl up into a ball and die? Please. You have far too much riding on staying alive, fighting, lying, and continuing to shamelessly use me for what I can get you.”
She stared at him, aghast. “Use you?”
Magnus’s expression hardened. “You want power, you want magic. Staying here with me and tolerating my father’s continued existence—you knew that would lead you to what you want. When the Kindred were stolen, especially knowing what we now know about them, what was I to think? That you’d continue to stay here indefinitely? I did what I did for you, to help return your chance for power. Ashur seems to value Nic for reasons I don’t personally understand. If anyone could get through to that crazy Kraeshian, I knew it would be your dearest friend. The same friend who urged Taran to slit my throat, might I remind you.”
He spoke to her like a hateful stranger, not like someone she had come to deeply value in her life. “And now you’re blaming me for this. How dare you!”
He let out a deep breath. “It’s impossible to reason with you.”
“Then don’t even try. You can’t fix this, Magnus. You can’t even start.”
“If Nic is still alive—”
“It won’t matter.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “This has proven how vastly different we are. You are unrelentingly cruel and manipulative, and I see now that will never change.”
“Quite honestly, princess? I could say the exact same about you. Perhaps you’d prefer I deal with conflict by picking daisies and singing songs, but that’s not me. And you’re damn right: I won’t ever change. And neither will you. One moment you say you love me, but you’d prefer to cut out your own tongue rather than share that dirty little secret, even with your closest friend. Goddess forbid that Nic might have thought you’d sully yourself with the likes of me. Would he hate you for that?”
She pushed her tears off her face, angry at herself for showing such weakness. “Very likely he would.”
“So this proves that you’d choose him over me.”
“In a heartbeat,” she said immediately. “But he’s dead.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Perhaps. And what about Jonas? I couldn’t help but notice you were practically sitting on his lap yesterday, cooing words of romantic encouragement to him.”
“Is that what you—?” Her face flushed. “Jonas is twice the man you’ll ever be. I’d rather share his bed than yours—any day, any time. And no curse could stop me.”
“Damn you, Cleo.” Fury flashed though eyes that had turned to ice. He raised his fist, his teeth clenched in a grimace.
“Go on,” she snarled. “Hit me, just like your father hit my mother. You know you want to.”
“What?” He frowned then and looked at his own fist with surprise before lowering it to his side. “I . . . would never hit you.”
“I’ve had enough,” she said, her voice now only a whisper. “I’m done here. I need to think.” She turned toward the stairs that led up to the bedrooms.
“Cleo . . .” Magnus rasped out. “We’ll find the truth about Nic. I promise you.”
“I already know the truth.”
“I know I can be horrible sometimes. I know it. But . . . I love you. That hasn’t changed.”
Her shoulders tensed. “Love isn’t enough to fix this.”
Without looking back, Cleo walked as calmly and slowly as possible to her room before locking the door behind her.
CHAPTER 22
JONAS
PAELSIA
Jonas had to leave the compound before finding Nic. They’d been separated after the rebel uprising. The empress’s audience had panicked and began fighting against each other as well as the swarm of Kraeshian guards
His view of the stage was blocked and he’d been faced with angry Paelsians and the sorceress they wanted dead.
“You can look at me with as much hatred as you want,” Lucia said to him as they swiftly left the riots.
“I appreciate your permission.”
“You hate me. And yet you saved my life.”
“Likely I saved the lives of a dozen Paelsian men who under-estimated your ability to kill each one of them where they stood.”
“And you don’t underestimate me?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then I strongly suggest you tell me where my father and brother are so that you won’t have to risk your own life for a moment longer in my company.”
Jonas knew she could make good on this threat if she wanted to. He couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of how powerful this girl was and how much damage and death she was rumored to be responsible for.
“Where is the fire god?” he whispered.
She raised her eyebrows. Jonas could tell she was shocked that he knew who—or rather what—Kyan really was. “I already told you that don’t know.”
“Is he the father of your child?”
Lucia let out a sharp, nervous laugh. “Certainly not.”
“I don’t find anything funny about this.”
“Make no mistake, rebel, neither do I.”
“Keep walking,” he said when her pace began to slow. “By the looks of you, you’re far too heavy for me to carry.”
Lucia’s rebuttal to this insult was to stop walking completely. They’d entered a thatch of forest on their way to the nearest town, where Jonas planned to find transport west.
“Answer my question: Where are my father and brother? I know they’re still alive. They have to be.”
“If I answer your question, what certainty do I have that you won’t end my life?” he asked.
“None at all.”
“Exactly. Therefore, I will take you to them myself.”
She gasped. “So they are alive!”
“Perhaps,” he allowed.
“And how am I to believe that you want to help me?”
He spun around and jabbed his index finger at her. “Make no mistake, Princess Lucia, I’m not doing this to help you. I’m doing this to help Mytica.”
She rolled her eyes. “So noble.”
“Think what you want. I don’t care. You refuse to answer my questions; I’ll refuse to answer yours. Our destination is not horribly far away, but you’ll have to find a way to deal with my presence and my hatred during this journey together.”
“I don’t think so. I’m going to tell you a little secret, rebel, about a special skill I’ve recently discovered. I can make you tell me the truth . . . and the more you resist, the more i
t will hurt.”
Jonas turned to face her again, more exasperated than intimidated. “Were you always this much of a bitch, or was it only after you discovered you were a sorceress?”
“Honestly?” She gave him a cold smile. “It was after.”
“I find that hard to believe. You and your whole family . . . evil to the core, every one of you.”
“And yet you still seem to be helping us.” Lucia frowned slightly. “At least tell me that they’re all right, that they’re unharmed after everything that’s happened.”
“Unharmed?” He smirked at her. “I don’t know about that. I did finally get the chance to put a dagger through the king’s heart. Unfortunately, it only slowed him down for a moment or two.”
Her eyes flashed with fury. “You lie.”
“Right here.” He patted his chest. “Nice and deep. I even twisted it. Felt so good, I can’t even tell you.”
A moment later, he found himself airborne, flying backward until he hit the trunk of a tree hard enough to knock his breath from his lungs.
Lucia knelt next to him, her hand clutching his throat. “Look at me.”
Disoriented, he looked into her sky-blue eyes.
“Tell me the truth,” she snarled. “Is my father dead?”
“No.” The single word was pulled painfully from his throat.
“You stabbed him in his heart, but he’s not dead?”
“Exactly.”
“How is this possible? Answer me!”
Jonas couldn’t look away from her beautiful, fearsome eyes. Whatever magic she’d lost during the riot—if she’d truly lost any at all—had returned. And she was far stronger than he expected her to be.
“Some sort of magic . . . I don’t know. It prolonged his life.”
“Magic from whom?”
“His . . . mother.” Jonas was certain he now tasted blood, thick and metallic. He choked against it as he attempted to resist her magic.
She frowned deeper. “My grandmother is dead.”
“She’s alive. I don’t know much more about her.” He grimaced against the pain of speaking all of these truths to her. “Now do me a favor, princess?”
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