“Where is the stone wheel?” Lucia asked.
Immediately, the answer rose up painfully in his throat, summoned by the utmost need to tell her the truth, but he managed to swallow the words back down, each one as sharp as a blade.
“Don’t resist,” she said. “Please, Magnus, for your own good, don’t resist this.”
The unrelenting pressure of a thousand vises clamped down on either side of his skull. “What are you doing to me?”
“Tell us where the wheel is,” she said again.
When he resisted, a thick, coppery taste flooded his mouth and he gagged.
“Lucia . . .” he sputtered, and blood spilled over his bottom lip.
“What are you doing to him?” Cleo shrieked as she drew closer again.
Lucia didn’t move her gaze from Magnus. “Quiet.”
“You’re hurting him!”
“And if I do? What would you care? Magnus, please stop resisting my magic and tell me the truth, and this will all be over in an instant. Where is it?”
He couldn’t hold back any longer; the pressure—the pain—was far too strong. The words rushed forward. “The far . . . side . . . of the labyrinth. Near the cliff’s edge.”
She nodded, her eyes bereft of pleasure. “Well done.” She turned to Kyan. “That’s only a hundred paces from here.”
“Lead the way, little sorceress.”
Resisting the overwhelming compulsion to speak had been torture unlike anything Magnus ever before experienced. He dropped to his knees and braced himself against the ground, his chest heaving, as drops of his blood stained the white snow.
“We’ll be back shortly,” Lucia promised him, before she and Kyan began moving toward the wheel.
Cleo took hold of Magnus’s arm. “Get up.”
“I can’t,” Magnus heaved through heavy breaths.
“You must. We need to follow them. If this has something to do with the Kindred, we need to know.”
“Leave him,” Nic said. “We can go by ourselves.”
“What did you know about the wheel before today?” Magnus snarled at Cleo, wincing at how strained and weak his voice sounded.
“Next to nothing,” Cleo said. “But if a sorceress and her strange new friend want to find it badly enough that they’d resort to magical torment to wrench the truth out of you, then it has to be important.” She knelt down and roughly wiped the blood off his chin with the discarded bandages from his arm. “We’re not allies and we never will be, but now Lucia has shown herself to be an enemy to both of us. My ring—the ring that now sits upon your sister’s finger—had a strange reaction to that wheel the last time we were here. I’m afraid of what it might do today. Now get up. If Nic and I approach her without you, I’m sure she’ll kill us.”
“Cleo . . .” Nic protested.
She shot him a sharp look, and he clamped his mouth shut.
The last thing Magnus wanted to admit was that Cleo was right, but it was true: The sister he’d once known would never have wanted to inflict such pain upon him, no matter what kind of truth she was seeking. What new magic was this? She’d grown so much more powerful since the last time he saw her.
The Kindred were meant to be his; they were the only way to ensure his future, and three of the crystals were still unaccounted for. He knew, now more than ever, that Lucia was the key to finding them.
He didn’t doubt that her new friend Kyan knew this as well.
Magnus pushed himself up to standing and mustered all the strength and willpower he could to trudge around the side of the labyrinth with Cleo and Nic trailing closely behind him. He could see the pair; they’d reached the ancient stone wheel, half-buried in snow and taller than any man he’d ever met. He watched them inspect it together, and the anger in his heart gave him fuel to straighten up and walk faster.
Kyan’s amber gaze narrowed at Magnus as he approached. “Who has visited this wheel here before us?” the angry young man demanded.
“I have no idea what you mean.” Magnus came to a halt, as did Cleo, only an arm’s reach away from him.
“The magic . . .” Kyan placed his palms against the rough surface and pushed. “I feel nothing, even this close.”
“How strange. I, on the other hand, do feel something. I feel the very strong need to throw you in my dungeon for kidnapping and corrupting my sister.”
Kyan snorted softly. “The sister you remember showed only a glimmer of what she was destined to become. Does her magnificence blind you?”
“Kyan,” Lucia interrupted, coming to stand between the two. “Ignore Magnus, there’s nothing he can do to us. We’ve found a wheel, right here in Limeros, just like that old witch promised. What’s the problem?”
“Can you feel its magic? Can you summon it back?”
Lucia frowned, then pressed one hand against the frosty surface. Magnus couldn’t help but notice the amethyst ring on her right index finger that Cleo once wore. “I don’t feel anything.”
“Any magic that previously existed within this stone has been removed.” His expression darkened. “This is Timotheus’s doing. He’s trying to keep me away from the Sanctuary, away from his little safe haven.” He shook his head. “He honestly thinks he can win this game.”
“A game? This is a game to you?” Magnus said through gritted teeth. “Let me guess. You think Lucia is the secret weapon you’ll use to help you win?”
“Magnus, be careful.” Cleo took a step closer to whisper to him.
He glared at her. “Stay out of this, princess.”
Cleo stared back at him, resolute. “I think it’s far too late for that.”
Kyan smiled at Magnus, a grin more sinister than even those he’d received from his father. “You think I’m using Lucia,” Kyan mused. “Yet you and your entire greedy family have been using her for what she is for over sixteen years. It’s only now that she’s finally free from you and able to make her own choices.”
“I’ve never used her, for anything.” The thought was an insult. “Not once.”
“Oh, Magnus.” Lucia shook her head. “I think you actually believe that. I think you believe that lie so completely that if I magically extracted the truth you’d say the very same thing.”
“Who is this creature you’ve become?” Magnus asked, his eyes narrowed and fraught with concern. “And what have you done with my caring, beautiful sister?”
Lucia rolled her eyes. “Your caring, beautiful sister died when her lover took his life on the floor of a temple, right before her eyes. The Lucia you knew was weak and pathetic. Trust me, Magnus, I’m much better now. I pursue the things I want and I get them. And nobody will ever use or manipulate me again.” She hooked her arm through Kyan’s. “If this wheel is useless to us, Kyan, we’ll find another one.”
“Whatever you’re trying to do,” Cleo said, “you’ll fail.”
“Will I?” A cool smile spread across Lucia’s face. “Much gratitude for your opinion. I value it so much.”
Cleo took one step closer to the sorceress. “You lost someone you loved. I know what that’s like. But you can’t let that grief, that unspeakable pain, turn you into something you’re not.”
“Are you really attempting to sympathize with me? No need, little one. Everything I’ve felt, all the trials and pain I’ve experienced, all of it was necessary to get me here. My prophecy has been fulfilled and now my future is my own.” She smiled sweetly. “Cleo, let’s talk about the water Kindred. I know it was claimed at the temple after I left that night. Where is it?”
Magnus watched as Cleo began to tremble, yet she still continued to stare directly into Lucia’s eyes. “I . . . don’t . . . know.”
“Yes, you do. And, just so you’re aware, while I didn’t take any pleasure in causing Magnus pain, I’ll take great pleasure in causing yours.”
Cleo cried out, pressing her palms to her temples as blood began to trickle from her nose. Magnus watched with horror.
“Stop it!” Nic rushed at the sor
ceress, but at the flick of her finger he flew backward, hitting the wall of the labyrinth so hard that it knocked him out cold.
“Tell me,” Lucia gritted out.
A bloody tear slid down Cleo’s cheek as she continued to resist this fearsome new magic. “Princess Amara,” she finally gasped. “She stole it. I’m sure she’s returned to Kraeshia with it by now. You evil bitch!”
Lucia held her smile in place. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She turned toward Kyan, and Cleo fell to the ground. Magnus rushed to her side, helping her back up to her feet, and swept her golden hair away from her face.
She wiped her hand under her bloody nose. “I’ll be fine.”
Magnus nodded once, firmly, and then sent a dark glare at Lucia and Kyan. “When you leave here, don’t ever return. Either of you.”
Lucia turned to him, still calm but clearly surprised.
“And if we refuse to follow your orders?” Kyan asked lightly, as if Magnus’s words were those of a court fool, there only to amuse him.
Magnus took another step forward and eyed him up and down with disdain, just as he had with Lucia’s prior, unworthy suitors. He attempted to shove Kyan, but the young man didn’t budge an inch.
Magnus then swung his right fist, striking Kyan squarely in his jaw.
Again, he didn’t flinch, but the amusement faded from his expression. “You try my patience, boy.”
“Do I? Good.” Magnus struck him again, this time with his left fist. His fingers itched to wrap themselves around the hilt of a sword, to plunge it into Kyan’s chest and watch the life leave his eyes.
Then, in an instant, those very eyes Magnus wished to snuff out turned from amber to a vivid, glowing blue.
Magnus took a step back, bumping into Cleo, who was now standing and waiting only a foot behind him.
“What are you?” he demanded.
His feet grew warm. He looked down, astonished to see a ring of bright, amber fire had formed around him. Cleo shrieked and leapt away from the flames.
“What am I?” Kyan repeated, cocking his head. “You mean, you really don’t know?”
“No!” Lucia grabbed hold of the young man’s arm. “Kyan, don’t do this. Not to him.”
“Apologies, little sorceress, but it’s already done.”
The flames grew higher, curling up around Magnus’s legs like fiery snakes. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think; all he could do was watch them slither around his body. But while he could feel the warmth of the flames through the leather of his trousers, they hadn’t actually touched him—hadn’t burned him—yet.
But they would. Magnus knew this, without a single doubt.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time, Kyan.” Lucia’s voice rose. “I said no.”
A ferocious blast of air magic slammed into Magnus. He flew backward, hurtling about twenty paces, to land hard right next to Nic’s unconscious body. He looked around, stunned. His legs had been freed from the flames, which continued to burn where he’d previously stood.
Magnus quickly jumped back up to his feet, exchanging a brief, pained look with Cleo, before his gaze landed on his sister. “Lucia!”
Her arm hooked with Kyan’s, and she dragged the young man away in the opposite direction. Shakily, Magnus began to run after them.
“Lucia! Stop!” he called. “I can help you!”
“Help me?” She gave him a bleak look. “My darling brother, it seems you can’t even help yourself.”
A wall of flames rose up to block his path and obliterated any sight of her.
CHAPTER 13
JONAS
LIMEROS
Finally, after a long, several-days’ journey, there it was: the Limerian palace, just visible in the distance.
As big and ugly as Jonas had always heard it was.
“Your job is to get something for us to eat and find us some rooms for the night,” Jonas told Lysandra and Olivia. They’d just stumbled upon a small village a little more than a mile away from the palace grounds.
“Fine,” Lys said as Jonas handed his satchel to her for safe keeping. “You’re still insisting that I stay behind while you go case the palace? Go ahead then, and lose your head all on your own.”
“I don’t know,” Olivia said. “Jonas is quite notorious. After all of his alleged crimes, I believe they would throw him in the dungeon rather than kill him outright.”
“Good point,” Lys said flatly. “They’d want enough time to draw a crowd of spectators before removing his head.”
Jonas glared at them as he adjusted his eye patch. “Thank you both for your confidence in my abilities. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He left them without another word and quickly made his way to the palace. He’d been to Limeros before, but never to the palace itself, and he had no idea what kinds of barriers to entry awaited him there.
Unlike the Auranian palace, there was no wall surrounding the castle to separate it from the landscape. Instead, there was a tall watchtower about a quarter mile from the castle gates, along the single road leading toward the massive black granite structure. Any visitors or deliveries would first need to stop here, be questioned by the armed guards, who would log their names and purpose before giving or denying them permission to continue on.
Jonas saw just a sliver of all this from beneath a canvas tarp and between two large sacks of potatoes, in the back of the wagon he’d snuck onto.
The security here paled in comparison to that in the City of Gold. Then again, the kingdom of Limeros had not had waged a battle on its land in . . .
Jonas thought hard. His knowledge of Mytican history wasn’t vast, but he couldn’t think of any significant battle ever fought on Limerian land.
No wall, few guards, and one big ugly black castle that would be very easy to breach.
The thought made him smile.
After clearing the guards at the gate, the rickety wagon continued on. Once they’d moved closer to the palace, Jonas quietly slipped off. Scanning the area, searching for signs of any hidden red-uniformed guards and finding none, he began to explore the grounds.
The winds that raced across the snowy plains surrounding the palace were the harshest he’d ever felt, and he pulled on the thick pale gray cloak he’d stolen on their journey. It camouflaged him well in this monochromatic winterscape. He passed a small lake, completely covered by a sheet of ice punctured with a few holes for ice-fishing. Next he approached a gigantic structure made of what appeared to be chiseled ice, and when he got closer he realized it was a life-sized maze. It seemed a rather frivolous detail for a kingdom that prided itself on its austerity.
Only more proof that King Gaius was nothing more than a hypocrite.
Jonas stopped short when he heard the not-too-distant sound of voices. When he was sure they were drawing closer to him, he ducked behind the western wall of the maze.
“You’ve always thought the worst of me.”
“You’ve given me no reason to think of you any other way.”
Jonas didn’t recognize the first male voice, but the second was one he could never forget.
Prince Magnus Damora.
Jonas peeked out from his hiding spot by the maze to watch the scuffle play out, stunned by the good luck he had today.
Just the prince he’d been looking for.
“Your highness, I am your loyal servant,” the slender and tall young man said in a sniveling tone.
“Really. Is that why you’d try to turn the council against me?”
“Their opinions are their own. Why would they listen to me?”
Magnus chuckled humorlessly. “Lord Kurtis, you remind me of your father: a man who tries to expand his power by manipulation rather than by skill or intelligence.”
“In case you’ve forgetten, I’m still Grand Kingsliege here. That title comes with power of its own, given to me by the king himself. You can’t take that away from me, not even if you try to slit my throat again.”
/> “What an excellent suggestion.”
“I don’t think your wife would like that very much.” Lord Kurtis paused, his eyes narrowing. “You know, Princess Cleo and I, we’ve become very close friends.”
Jonas’s heart leapt at the name.
Magnus’s expression remained cold. “Let me guess. You’re trying to turn her against me as well? That won’t be nearly as much effort as you might think.”
“I know she hates you. But I’m not so sure the feeling is mutual.”
This statement had coaxed a scowl from the prince. “Trust me. It is.”
A cold smile now played at Kurtis’s lips. “Such a lovely, fragile creature. Have I told you how much she reminds me of a summer butterfly? So beautiful and rare—yet so easily crushed if it comes to rest on the wrong hand.”
In an instant, Magnus grabbed the young man by his throat and slammed him back against the ice wall.
“Mark my words . . .” he growled as Kurtis sputtered, his face turning red in an instant. “. . . if you challenge me again, I will bury you so deeply in this frozen ground that you’ll never be found. Do you understand?”
Kurtis stopped his wheezing and choking when Magnus released him. His eyes now blazed with hatred, but he nodded his head once in agreement.
“Now get out of my sight.”
There was no more conversation, only the crunch of boots on snow as Lord Kurtis departed.
Once he was sure Magnus was alone, Jonas didn’t hesitate another moment. He rounded the corner, drew his sword, and placed it against the neck of Prince Magnus, who shot him a rather gratifying look of shock.
“Now, where were we?” Jonas asked. “I believe the last time we saw one another, I was about to kill you when we were rudely interrupted.”
“I remember. Watchers and magic and elemental wildfires.”
“Indeed.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Nice eye patch, Agallon. And the hair . . . a very innovative look for a Paelsian. I assume that’s supposed to be your masterly disguise?”
“On your knees.” Jonas pressed the blade harder against the prince’s flesh. “Now.”
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