“How? Tell me how this can be!”
“Let me assure you that I am not here for vengeance of any kind. Despite your harsh and questionable decisions, I do understand it all more than you might think. You are not the only one in our family who was cast aside by our father for having differences that made us unacceptable.”
“Elan was different,” she whispered.
“Elan looked at our father like a shining god standing before him. I suppose that pardoned many of his imperfections.”
“This is actually happening, isn’t it?” Amara’s eyes filled with tears. “You won’t believe me, but I’ve only regretted one of my decisions: what I did to you. I was angry, I felt betrayed . . . so I reacted.”
“Indeed you did.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted me dead.”
“I don’t want you dead, Amara. I want you alive and well and willing to see everything in this world more clearly than you’ve ever seen it in your life. The world is not an enemy to be conquered at any cost, whatever our madhosha might have you believe.”
“Our madhosha is the only one who has ever believed in me. She’s guided me and been my most valuable advisor.”
“So it was she who advised you to end my life.”
Amara twisted her hands. “But it was I who acted on such advice. For a while, I thought you would be on my side through everything, but you chose that boy . . . that boy with the red hair . . . after becoming enamored with him after what? A month?”
“Nic,” Cleo said, her throat constricting. “His name was Nic.”
Ashur sent a deep frown toward her. “What do you mean his name was Nic?”
Cleo commanded herself not to cry. She refused to show any weakness here, unless it might serve her in some way. She wanted to hate Amara the most, to have that hatred fuel her, strengthen her, but all she wanted to do right now was hurt Ashur.
“When you left, he followed,” she said evenly. “He was here at the compound when a riot broke out.”
“And what?” Ashur asked softly.
“And . . . he’s dead.” It sounded far too horrible to put into words, but she had to. She wanted to twist the words into Ashur to see if this prince was truly made of steel, someone who didn’t give a damn whom he hurt or used or left behind.
“No.” Ashur shook his head, his brows drawing together. “No, that can’t be.”
“It’s true.” Amara nodded. “I saw it happen.”
“You said it yourself,” Cleo said, her throat tight. The confirmation stole away any hope she had left that this had been a lie. “Anyone who truly cares for you ends up dead. I can’t imagine you’re all that surprised.”
“No,” Ashur said again as he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Oh, please, Ashur.” Amara flicked her hand dismissively. “You barely knew that boy! You’re trying to tell me you’re upset by this news?”
“Shut your mouth!” Cleo roared at her, surprising herself with her own sudden ferocity. Amara stared at her, shocked. “He was my friend, my best friend. I loved him, and he loved me. He was my family, and because of you and your brother he’s dead!”
“Because of us, is it?” Amara repeated, her voice low. “Did you even try to stop him from chasing after my brother like a pathetic, discarded lover from his past?”
“I didn’t know until he was already gone!”
“Perhaps you should have been keeping a better watch over someone you proclaim to have loved.”
Cleo lurched toward her, wanting to tear every piece of hair from her head, but Ashur was behind her, holding her arms and keeping her in place.
She struggled, as she’d done earlier with the guards, wanting to claw at the prince’s face too. “Let go of me!”
“Violence is not the answer to violence,” he said, finally releasing her to point at a chair. “Sit and be silent, unless you wish to be removed from this room.”
Cleo did the best she could to compose herself, cursing the day these horrible siblings had never set foot on Mytican soil.
“You want to know why I’m alive, Sister?” Ashur said, his teeth clenched. “Because I learned what happened to you as a child. I know our father tried to kill you. And I’m not deaf or blind; I have heard you and Grandmother speaking to each other, planning what was to come and deciding who was in the way. When I felt that my life might be at risk, even though I didn’t entirely believe you would do such a thing—not to me—I went to visit Grandmother’s apothecary . . .”
A warm breeze moved over Cleo’s bare arms.
“My, my, this is quite dramatic, isn’t it, little queen?” a voice whispered in her ear.
She gasped.
“It would be best not to react to me. Wouldn’t want to interrupt the prince and princess—or is that emperor and empress?—during their long-awaited reunion.”
Cleo kept her gaze on Amara and Ashur as Ashur explained why he’d been resurrected and how he believed himself to be the legendary, peace-bringing phoenix.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“Shh. Don’t speak. Amara will be very jealous if she knows I’m talking to other pretty girls behind her back. But perhaps I don’t care what she thinks of me anymore. She has been a disappointment to me, now that the storm draws closer.” He paused. “I am the god of fire, little queen, released from my prison at long last.”
Cleo began to tremble.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me. I see now that I overlooked so much at our last brief meeting. My attention was more on Lucia and her brother and my search for a special, magical wheel. But you . . . your eyes . . .”
Warmth touched her face, and her muscles tensed.
“They’re the color of aquamarine. The very color of my sister’s crystal orb. Please nod if you understand me.”
She gave a shallow nod, barely breathing now.
“There is power hidden deep within you, little queen. And a desire for more. Do you know that you’re descended from a goddess? Would you like me to give you all the magic you’ve ever dreamed of possessing?”
Cleo knew very well what Kyan had done to Lysandra and what he and Lucia had done to many villages in Paelsia. Despite her fear and her hate for this creature she couldn’t see, there seemed to be no other answer at the moment that would satisfy him and ensure she’d remain unharmed.
So she nodded.
“Amara is unworthy, I see that now. She is only after power for herself, yet she fools herself that she aspires for more than her father did. However, you would sacrifice yourself to save those you love, wouldn’t you?”
Cleo forced herself to nod again, even as a shiver went up her spine. What dark promise was she making?
Did the fire Kindred truly see something in her, something special and powerful and worthy of possessing true magic?
Perhaps her wish had finally come true.
“I will return with the storm. It’s so close now, little queen. Tell no one about what I’ve said to you. Don’t disappoint me.”
The warmth that had made her start to perspire faded away, and she realized Amara was speaking to her.
“Cleo,” she said. “Can you hear me?”
“Y-yes, yes. I can hear you.”
“Did you also hear what Ashur has suggested?”
“No,” she admitted.
“He believes that together, he and I can rule Kraeshia peacefully. What do you think? Is this a good plan?”
Cleo found herself momentarily speechless at the thought of it, but then something began to rise in her throat—a laugh. “Pardon me for saying so, Amara, but that’s a preposterous plan. Two people cannot rule equally. It’s impossible.”
Amara’s brows shot up. “I appreciate your candor.”
“I deeply disagree,” Ashur growled.
Cleo rose from her chair, drawing from her outrage and grief and need to survive to make her stronger. “Where is it, Ashur?”
He frowned. “What?”
“What you stole from me.”
“I stole nothing from you.” The prince’s jaw tightened. “I know you blame me for Nicolo’s death. I also blame myself. If I could go back and do things differently, I would.”
“Starting when? When you took the resurrection potion or when you forced Nic to kiss you that night in Auranos? Both were regretful mistakes, in my opinion.”
“Vicious, heartless words don’t become you, princess.” Ashur turned to his sister. “The decision is in your hands, Amara, and I know you’ll make the correct one. I’ve come here to show you another path than the one you’re on. A better path.”
“You have.” Amara nodded. “I could choose the path to being kind, sweet, nice, and more agreeable, like all good girls should be, right?”
“You speak with sarcasm, but a gentler outlook might achieve more than you believe it would. We can rule Kraeshia together or I shall rule alone as emperor.”
“If you think I’d agree to that, Brother, then you really don’t know me at all. Guards!”
Cleo’s wide-eyed gaze shot to the door as several guards entered the room, looking between Ashur and Amara, uncertain where to place their attention.
Amara pointed at Ashur. “My brother has confessed to conspiring with the rebel who murdered our family. He wishes to help the rebellion tear apart the Kraeshian Empire my father built.”
“I’ve done no such thing,” Ashur said, outraged.
“Wrong,” Cleo spoke up, disgusted by Ashur’s lies. He had hidden the Kindred somewhere, keeping it for his own gain. “He did confess. I heard it myself.”
Ashur turned a look of pure fury on her.
While she’d hoped Ashur might talk some sense into Amara, that seemed to be a wish in vain. Amara had the ruthlessness that Ashur lacked. She was the predator, and Ashur, be it today or a year from now, would succumb to being her prey again.
Even if it was only a temporary ruse, Cleo had to align herself with strength, now more than ever before.
She had to align with Amara.
“Not so peaceful now, are you, Ashur?” Cleo asked steadily. “Funny how that can change so quickly.”
“Put him with the other prisoners,” Amara told the guards.
“Amara!” Ashur snarled. “Do not do this!”
The empress’s expression remained calm. “You came here to proudly tell me that you’re the phoenix legend speaks of, but you’re wrong. I am the phoenix.” She nodded at the guards. “Take him away.”
The guards forced Ashur from the room as Amara sat down heavily in her chair.
“You lied about Ashur to the guards,” she said.
Cleo could barely believe it herself. “I did.”
“He could have taken everything from me: my title, my power. Everything. All because he’s my older brother.”
“Yes, he could have.” Cleo kept her gaze steady. “So now what do you plan to do with me?”
“To be honest, I haven’t decided yet.”
Cleo bit her bottom lip, trying to stay confident in the face of so much uncertainty. “Do you really believe that you’re the phoenix?”
Amara raised an eyebrow. “Does it really matter?”
A guard lingered at the doorway. When Amara’s gaze went to him, his shoulders straightened. “Empress, I have information for you.”
Amara flicked him an impatient look. “What is it?”
“The rebels have been captured. They await interrogation.”
Cleo felt faint. Was it Jonas and Felix? Taran? Who else?
“Cleo, I want you to come with me to question them,” Amara said. “I want you to prove to me that you may—just may—be able to earn a small portion of my trust once again. Will you do that?”
The fire god had made her a tantalizing promise. But would she turn her back on Jonas, Felix, and Taran if it meant that she could get her throne back?
And if not, was there a way she might convince Amara to release them before she had a chance to steal the Kindred back from her?
There wasn’t time to make such decisions now, not about something so important. All she could do was buy as much time as possible.
Cleo nodded. “Of course I’ll do that, empress.”
CHAPTER 29
MAGNUS
PAELSIA
Magnus and Gaius spent the entire day shackled like common prisoners in the back of a wagon that journeyed west from Basilia. Magnus knew exactly where they were headed, and when they finally reached Chief Basilius’s former compound at dusk, he wasn’t certain that they would ever witness another sunrise.
Amara’s small but impressive army surrounded the perimeter of the compound, and Magnus and his father were ushered through the gates by the guards. Once inside, they were half shoved, half dragged down a narrow, winding corridor and placed in a room with stone walls and no furniture. Guards attached new shackles to their ankles. There was nothing to do but sit and wait on the bloodstained floor.
The door had a lock on it, and it only opened from the other side.
Yes, Magnus thought, this definitely qualifies as a dungeon.
“I didn’t want this,” the king said after they were left alone.
“No? You didn’t want us chained up and left to Amara’s whim? I’ve heard about how Kraeshians deal with prisoners. It makes your treatment of them seem almost benevolent.”
“This isn’t the end for us.”
“That’s very amusing, Father. It feels like it is. You know what would be very helpful right now? A witch to help us out. But you chased her away too, didn’t you?”
“I did. And I don’t regret it. My mother is an evil woman.”
“I guess you came by that same evil naturally then, no potions necessary.”
Magnus had had a lot of time to think during the journey here. He thought about Cleo, mostly, and wondered if anything would be different now if he hadn’t sent Nic after Ashur.
Likely not. Because then Cleo might be with him and his father, and Magnus would be unable to do anything to help her. He hoped very hard that she’d finally accomplished what she should have done from the beginning and gone to Auranos to find allies, rebels, assistance of some kind.
She was much better off as far away from him as possible.
Time passed slowly, and night turned back to day as sunlight spilled into their dark dungeon room from a tiny window. The sound of a lock in the door jerked Magnus back to attention, and he shielded his eyes from more blazing sunlight as the door opened and several guards entered the room. Behind them strode the empress herself.
She nodded at him. “Magnus, it’s so lovely to see you again.”
“Well, I couldn’t possibly feel less delighted to see you.”
Amara’s cold smile held. “And Gaius, I’ve been so worried about you. I’ve heard nothing from you since you went on your quest to find your treasonous son and bring him to justice. Did it not go well?”
“My plans changed,” the king said simply.
“I see that.”
“Is this any way to greet your husband, Amara?” Magnus asked. “By putting him in chains in a dungeon?”
“My mother once ran away from my father. I’m told he dragged her back to him and locked her in a small, dark room—for an entire year, I believe. She also lost a finger as punishment for trying to escape—she was forced to sever it herself.”
She told the story without any emotion at all.
“Is that my fate?” he asked. “To lose a finger?”
“I haven’t decided just what I’d like to have sliced off your body for all your lies and deceit. But I’m certain I’ll think of something. In the meant
ime, I have someone with me whom I’m sure you’d like to see.”
She stepped aside, and Magnus, still shielding his eyes, realized with stunned disbelief that Cleo stood in the doorway.
Her expression was utterly unreadable.
“I thought you said you had rebels imprisoned here,” Cleo said.
Amara turned to her. “These are rebels, working against me to steal what now belongs to me. Am I wrong?”
“No, I suppose not.” Cleo cocked her head. “It’s so strange to think of them as rebels, though. The word doesn’t quite seem to fit.”
“If we’re rebels, princess,” the king hissed, “then what are you?”
“A prisoner of war,” Cleo replied calmly, “forced to marry against my will as my freedom was stolen along with my throne. And so it has been for a very long and painful year of my life.”
Magnus hadn’t said a word since Cleo had entered the dungeon, stunned by every move she made and every word she uttered. This couldn’t possibly be the same girl he’d come to know, the one full of passion and fire the night their paths had intersected at the cottage in the snowy woods. The one full of anger and hate when she learned that Nic was dead.
This girl’s perfect mask of indifference rivaled his own.
“I gave you many chances to leave,” Magnus said. “You were no prisoner.”
“I was a prisoner of the choices taken from me by your father. How many times would he have liked to see this very situation reversed, to see me chained and at his mercy? Mercy,” she snorted. “That isn’t a word I would ever use to describe his actions.”
“You should have woken me,” Magnus said. “My father shouldn’t have sent you away all alone. I know you were angry with me.”
“Angry? You think I was—”
“But to come here,” he interrupted her. “To, what? Attempt an alliance with Amara?”
“Perhaps,” she allowed. “Since she’s the only one with any power here, would you really blame me?”
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