Lucia stared at the queen, horrified by her words.
“Now,” the queen continued, “only love remains. Love is the only thing that matters in the end. What I’ve done has been out of love, Lucia.”
A wave of dizziness washed over her and Lucia’s gaze shot to the silver goblet. “The water . . .”
“It’s a very powerful potion.” The queen touched the drinking vessel, sliding her finger around the sparkling edge. “Undetectable to anyone through taste. Sleep, my darling. Such darkness will not touch you in your dreams. Sleep in peace. And when I finally find the strength to end your life, I promise I will be gentle.”
A potion—a sleeping potion . . .
“Sleep now, my dear girl,” the queen’s voice soothed.
Lucia’s gaze slid to the balcony to see the golden edge of a hawk’s wing.
“Alexius,” she whispered as the luxurious chambers around her faded away.
CHAPTER 13
ALEXIUS
THE SANCTUARY
Phaedra summoned him to the crystal palace and Alexius had no choice but to go to her immediately. He found her there, her beautiful face etched with worry.
“It’s Stephanos,” she said.
The name of Phaedra’s beloved mentor drew him closer. After Phaedra’s own brother was exiled from the Sanctuary twenty years ago, she had turned to both Stephanos and Alexius as her closest friends in this realm. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s dying.” The long, flowing cloak she wore today was a shade of platinum, nearly an exact match to her hair.
“Dying?” The word was so foreign that it felt false on his tongue.
Dying was for mortals, not for those who lived in the Sanctuary.
She grabbed hold of his shirt to pull him closer. “They don’t want many to know, but I needed you here so you could see for yourself. There’s not much time left.”
She was frantic, and Alexius knew nothing he could say to her right now would ease her pain.
“What can be done?” he asked.
She just shook her head. “Nothing. There’s no way he can be saved.”
His heart sank. “Take me there.”
Phaedra led him to the uppermost level of the palace and into a large room surrounded by a circular glass wall. Otherwise, it was open to the sky—always blue and always day, never night. The room was bare apart from a raised golden platform in the center. On this platform lay Stephanos. He was surrounded by the Three—those that made up the council of elders that governed this world. They were the oldest and most powerful of the immortals.
“Why is he here?” the elder named Danaus asked, his voice as unwelcoming as the question itself. He was the member of the Three that Alexius trusted the least—one he would never tell about his shared dreams with Princess Lucia, nor his discovery that she was the prophesied sorceress. Danaus was always prying into his business and trying to learn more about what Alexius did during his journeys to the princess’s world and the never-ending search for the Kindred.
The elder was jealous of Alexius’s ability to take hawk form and enter the mortal world. Since the Kindred had been lost, the three elders could no longer take hawk form. For all their power and influence among the immortals, they were trapped here and had been for a millennium.
“I wanted him here,” Phaedra said, her chin raised high. She wasn’t intimidated by any of the elders and never had been.
Then again, Phaedra didn’t know some of the secrets that Alexius did. Perhaps if she did, her bravery would waver.
“This is a private matter,” Danaus growled. “And it must remain so.”
“It’s all right,” Stephanos said, his voice as frail as his appearance. “I don’t mind another witness. You are welcome to stay, Alexius.”
“Thank you, Stephanos.”
Stephanos’s chest moved rapidly with labored breathing. Since the last time Alexius had seen him, his previously dark hair had turned white and brittle, his perfect golden skin now pallid and deeply lined like that of an old man.
A face that had never looked older than twenty-five mortal years now looked four times that.
The sight of such sudden and unexpected decay soured Alexius’s stomach, and both pity and revulsion swirled within him.
Timotheus, a more welcome sight to Alexius, nodded in his direction. He was Alexius’s own mentor. In looks alone, he could be Alexius’s older brother, even though Timotheus was twice his age. The thought of losing such a wise friend, as Phaedra was about to lose her own, pained him deeply. But Timotheus looked as young and strong as ever. The only place the elder showed his age was in his golden eyes, now heavy with worry and grief.
Timotheus nodded in his direction and offered him the edge of a grim smile to show that he did not share Danaus’s unwelcoming attitude when it came to Alexius’s presence.
And then there was the third member of the council.
Alexius felt the weight of her gaze before he chanced a glance in her direction.
Melenia’s beauty, even among the beautiful immortals, was legendary. The elder seemed chiseled from gold, her pale hair falling to her knees in soft waves, a vision of perfection in every way—physically, the most glorious immortal ever to exist. While she appeared to be as young as the others on the council, Melenia was the oldest of their kind—her age countless. Eternal.
“Yes, you are welcome to stay,” she said smoothly. “Unless you would rather not, Alexius.”
Phaedra’s grip tightened on his hand. She wanted him here, to support her in this difficult time. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have wasted her magic in summoning him.
“Why is this happening?” Alexius asked, his throat tight.
Melenia arched her brow. “It is tragic but very simple what is happening. Our magic is fading enough that it cannot sustain every one of our kind. This is the result.”
“The tornado in Paelsia was magic—air magic,” Phaedra said. “I saw it myself—I was there in hawk form. It drained power from the Sanctuary, and that—I’m sure that’s what triggered Stephanos’s condition. But how? How does what happens in the mortal world affect us? I didn’t think we were connected at all. Do you think it has something to do with the road the mortal king builds through his land?”
All eyes went to Phaedra.
“You’re mistaken,” Melenia said. “What is happening to Stephanos is the result of a slow draining away of our magic that has happened over time. A natural disaster that occurred in the mortal world has nothing to do with this.”
Phaedra shook her head. “Perhaps King Gaius is being guided by one who knows about us—about how to access our magic for his own gain.”
“Nonsense,” Danaus said, looking down his nose at her. “No mortal has any effect on us, no matter who he is.”
“Are you certain of that?” Timotheus asked.
Danaus’s expression tensed. “I am.”
Timotheus smiled, an expression that did not extend to his eyes. “Must be nice to always be so certain of everything.”
“Don’t be so sure of what you speak, Danaus,” Melenia said. “Perhaps there is some validity to what Phaedra suspects. She has always been very clever. We must keep a close watch over King Gaius and his future actions. He could be a threat.”
“A threat?” Danaus scoffed. “If so, he’d be the first mortal to ever threaten us.”
“And yet, here we are.” Melenia cast a glance toward Stephanos, who’d squeezed his wrinkled eyes shut as if experiencing deep, unfathomable pain.
“All this means,” Danaus said sourly, “is that our scouts must find the Kindred to restore our magic completely so we don’t all wither away and die.”
“We’re trying,” Alexius growled. Although, in truth, he had ceased searching for the crystals when a princess with sky-blue eyes and jet-black hair had captured his full attention.
“We have. The search has never stopped, not even long after it should have. The Kindred cannot be found.”
“You’ve given up? With so much at stake? Who will next be affected after Stephanos? Perhaps it will be you!”
“Silence, Danaus.” A muscle in Timotheus’s cheek twitched. “Squabbling amongst ourselves solves nothing.”
Alexius knew that Timotheus didn’t favor either council member; in fact, he barely tolerated both of them. The Sanctuary was a small enclave, with a few hundred immortals forced to live together indefinitely. For all its beauty, it was a prison, escapable only by forfeiting both magic and immortality. And the inmates didn’t all get along.
“If nothing else,” Timotheus began, “this is absolute proof that our world is slowly descending into darkness like a sun in the mortal world slipping beneath the horizon. Even if the Kindred were returned here tomorrow, it could be too late to stop this.”
“Always the pessimist,” Melenia said drily.
“Realist,” Timotheus corrected.
Stephanos cried out in pain.
“It is time,” Melenia whispered. She walked back toward Stephanos, gazing down at his face. “I wish there was something I could do to save you, my dear friend.”
Despite her kind words, he didn’t look up at her with affection. In fact, it was as if he was seeing her today for the first time. His eyes narrowed. “You think your secrets will die with me, Melenia?”
But before he could say another word, he cried out again and arched upward, his frail body shuddering violently. And then bright white light exploded from him. Alexius staggered backward and shielded his eyes to keep from being blinded. The scream of a hawk pierced the air and the glass wall all around them shattered into a million crystal shards.
Everything before him went stark white as the scream continued. It felt as if they could never survive such a violent onslaught of both sight and sound.
Fear ripped into Alexius and he fell bruisingly hard to his knees, clamping his hands down over his ears, a scream building in his own chest.
But then all went silent. The light faded, the sound vanished. The golden platform was now empty. Stephanos’s body was gone. It had returned to the essence of pure magic it began from, the magic that sustained their world.
Phaedra staggered toward Alexius as he pushed up to his feet. He held his arms out to her and she collapsed against him, shaking.
“I thought we’d have more time!” she cried.
“It is done,” Danaus said to Melenia.
“Yes,” she replied solemnly. “He will be missed.”
Timotheus eyed the beautiful immortal curiously. “What did he mean, Melenia? What secrets did he speak of?”
She offered him a weary smile. “His mind was decaying faster than his body. So sad to witness such an end to one of the brightest and best of us all.”
“Who is to be next?” Danaus’s expression was tense. “Who of us will die next?”
“The Kindred still exists,” Melenia said evenly. “If we exist, then it exists. And it can be found before all is lost.”
“You’re certain about that?”
“I’ve never been more certain about anything.” She moved toward Alexius and Phaedra, clasping both of their hands in hers. “The loss of Stephanos has bound us together. We will go forth stronger, in trust and friendship. Yes?”
“Of course,” Alexius agreed. Phaedra remained silent.
“Go now. And speak of this to no one.”
They didn’t need to be told twice. Alexius and Phaedra departed without another word. They didn’t talk again until they’d left the palace, left the city, and journeyed as far as Alexius’s favorite meadow. He expected his troubled friend to collapse with grief. Instead, when he turned to face her, she shoved him very hard. He staggered backward, rubbing his chest and staring at her with confusion.
“What was that for?”
“For lapping up every lie that spills from her lips.”
“Who?”
“Melenia, of course. Who else? The pretty spider in her silvery web, spinning tales to wind around us all. You heard him at the end! Stephanos wanted to expose her lies.”
“He was dying. He didn’t know what he was saying.”
“Are you that blinded by her beauty that you can’t see the truth? She’s evil, Alexius!”
“You should be careful what you say about Melenia.”
She raised her chin. “I’m not afraid of her.”
“Phaedra—”
“Does she know about your little sorceress? Do any of them other than me?”
Alexius froze. “What?”
“The one you visit in your dreams.” A tense smile now played on her lips. “You think I don’t know what you do out here all alone? You talk in your sleep—Lucia . . . Lucia. A terrible habit for someone with secrets to keep. Are you falling in love with a mortal, Alexius? Others have walked such a path only to find themselves lost and unable to find their way back home.”
He knew Phaedra had been watching him. Such questions, such accusations made him feel exposed, cornered. “You will tell no one of this.”
She shook her head with disgust. “I need to go. I have places to be, mortals to watch. Dreams to visit. You’re not the only one keeping watch over specific mortals, Alexius.”
“Phaedra, no. We need to talk about this.”
Phaedra’s eyes sparkled. “I’m done talking. All I can tell you is one thing—watch out for Melenia. I’ve never trusted her, but lately . . . I know she’s up to something—and I think I know what it is. And trust me, if you aren’t smart, she will destroy you.”
Without another word she turned and began to run. Her form shimmered and shifted, taking the shape of a golden hawk that flew up high into the clear blue sky.
CHAPTER 14
JONAS
THE WILDLANDS
When Princess Cleo awoke, she found herself in the back of a rickety horse-drawn cart speeding across the countryside, her wrists bound.
Jonas had thought it best to restrain her. He knew she wasn’t going to be very happy with him. This was, perhaps, an understatement.
“Welcome back,” Jonas greeted her as she opened her aquamarine eyes.
She regarded him sleepily as the rest of the sleeping drug wore off.
Then clarity entered her gaze.
“You beast!” she snarled, lunging for him even while secured. “I hate you!”
He gently pushed her back down to a seated position. “Save your breath, your highness. You’ll strain yourself.”
Her gaze moved frantically around. “Where are you taking me?”
“Home sweet home.”
“Why have you done this?”
“Desperate times, princess.”
“You overestimate my worth to Prince Magnus and his father. Whatever you’ve asked for will be denied!”
“I asked him to stop construction on his road.”
Her brows shot up. “That was a stupid request! There are a million more important things for a rebel to demand from a king. You’re not very good at this, are you?”
Jonas leveled a dark look at her. Sometimes he forgot just how sharp her tongue could be. “Do you even know what that road is doing? How much Paelsian blood has soaked the ground at the construction camps? How many have died in the last month?”
Her mouth fell open. “No. If such horrors are true . . . I’m so sorry.”
It was not the first she’d ever heard of such atrocities—he’d mentioned it before, though not in detail, when he’d visited her chambers. But she would not have seen any proof. Despite her lofty betrothal to the prince, Jonas still believed her to be very much a prisoner of war told little of what happened outside the palace walls.
“The King of Blood does not have a gentle hand in dealing with slave labor. He may have lulled the majority of your Auranians into a false sense of security, but I assure you, the same cannot be said for my people. I saw for myself what his guards have full permission to do without penalty or opposition. And it must be stopped at any cost.”
The high color in her cheeks drained away. “Of course it must be stopped.”
Her words were unexpected and full of sincerity. It took him a moment to find his voice. “Looks like we do agree on a few things after all. How shocking.”
“You want to paint me with the same brush you paint the Damoras. I’m not like them. But if you wanted to kidnap someone with influence in that family, it shouldn’t have been me. My death at the hands of a rebel would ultimately be a gift to the king, not a hardship.”
In the dress shop, he’d told her he’d meant her no harm, but he couldn’t blame her for thinking the worst. This was the second time he’d kidnapped her. He must seem truly beastly to this girl. Jonas leaned toward her, ignoring her automatic flinch, and began to untie her bindings so her hands would be free.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see about that, won’t we, princess?”
• • •
Once they reached the edge of the Wildlands, thirty miles from Hawk’s Brow, Jonas thanked the driver of the cart—an Auranian sympathetic to the rebel cause he’d met during his previous visit to the city, at the same time he recruited Nerissa as a helper—and guided Cleo into the darkness of the thick forest.
She didn’t run from him or fight. It took very little pressure on her arm to keep her at his side as they moved across the tangled terrain.
“Murderous thieves make their home here.” She failed to keep the tremble from her voice.
“Absolutely,” Jonas replied.
“Dangerous animals, too.”
“Without a doubt.”
She slanted a look toward him. “Perfect place for you.”
He repressed a snort. “Oh, such compliments, your highness. You’re going to make me blush.”
Rebel Spring Page 15