Frozen Tides

by Morgan Rhodes

  Lady Sophia’s villa. A place that would forever hold unavoidable memories for Magnus. And none of them had anything to do with Lady Sophia herself.

  Magnus narrowed his eyes as he watched Kurtis place his gloved hand upon Cleo’s shoulder and whisper something in her ear. A small fleet of guards that Magnus had appointed—more to protect Cleo from Kurtis than from any outside threats—stood rigidly a few paces beyond them.

  Now the kingsliege motioned toward a target twenty paces in front of them. Cleo nodded with confidence before expertly notching an arrow in her bow.

  She drew back the string, aimed, and—

  Magnus held his breath.

  —the arrow flew straight up into the sky, as if she’d been targeting a cloud. It landed only a few paces away from her, burying itself in the snowy ground.

  Hmm.

  Kurtis edged closer to Cleo and gave her an encouraging smile as he handed her a new arrow to try again. She nodded firmly, then put the arrow into place, pulled back, aimed, and . . .

  Magnus watched Kurtis shield his eyes from the sun as he followed the arrow’s upward path. Then, suddenly, he started and leapt out of the way to avoid being hit as it came back down.

  Magnus covered his mouth to conceal his grin.

  Oh, princess. You’re absolutely dreadful at this, aren’t you?

  She tried twice more, with the same results, then threw the bow to the ground, stomped her foot, and gestured angrily at the target.

  “Now, now,” Magnus said under his breath. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

  Then, as if somehow she could hear him across such a distance, she turned in his direction. Their eyes met.

  He froze, instantly remembering the painful animosity of their last confrontation and the fresh hatred that blazed in her eyes when she’d mentioned Theon.

  But instead of turning away, he began to clap. “Oh, well done, princess. You’ve a natural gift.”

  Cleo narrowed her eyes and frowned, then headed straight for the palace gate closest to Magnus, leaving Kurtis behind without a farewell. Magnus gave him a dark look, then strode over and met Cleo at the entrance.

  She pulled off her gloves. “You can make fun of me all you want, I don’t care. You weren’t invited to watch.”

  “This is my home, my palace. I can do anything I want, including watch you practice your incredible weaponry skills.” As much fun as it sometimes was to taunt her, he had more important matters on his mind. “Tell me, princess. When will your friends be returning?”

  “I’ve already told you, Magnus, I have absolutely no idea. I’m quite sure that they would never have predicted you would be so upset by their absence. I’m certain that they’ll be back soon.”

  “How can you be certain of that if you’ve no idea where or why they’ve gone?”

  She smiled brightly. “Don’t you have a council meeting to go to?”

  Avoiding the subject, princess? he thought. I’d expect no less. “They can wait.”

  “Are you sure? If I were you, I wouldn’t want to do anything that might make them any unhappier than they already are.”

  What very little patience he had left was waning. “Luckily, you’re not me.”

  He knew Kurtis continued to fill the council’s ears with all kinds of tales of his ineptitude, telling them he’s a fool who makes poor decisions, who didn’t know how to lead. That rooster could crow all he wanted—it wouldn’t make any difference. Magnus knew he was a worthy leader. And, unlike both the council and his father, he actually cared about the lives of Limerians.

  He sighed aloud. “Why do I bother to speak with you at all? We’ll never see eye to eye on any subject.”

  “Perhaps it’s because you have no one else to talk to?”

  The insult landed with a sting that he didn’t expect. A muscle in his scarred right cheek twitched. “How true. No one knows me like you do, princess.”

  She looked at him with a furrowed brow. “That was unkind of me to say.”

  “The truth is never unkind, princess. It’s liberating. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Magnus turned and walked away from her before she could reply.

  • • •

  Several days later, Enzo arrived at his door. “They’re ready, your highness.”

  Magnus nodded at the guard and rose from the table piled high with parchment. He was grateful for the chance to have a bit of respite from the monotony of staring at endless lines of small, cramped cursive for hours, by candlelight, trying to master each and every detail of each and every law of his land.

  Enzo escorted him to the northwest tower, where the king kept cold quarters for high-profile prisoners who were too valuable to throw in the dungeon with the common thieves and criminals. The walls were coated with a thin layer of ice, but the guards were under orders to ensure that the temperature stayed bearable.

  At the top of the narrow spiral staircase, Magnus stepped into a small, circular room to greet the tower’s two newest inhabitants.

  “Welcome back.”

  Two pairs of eyes stared back at him, one flashing with hatred, the other with pure emptiness. There was Nic, straining against the chains that held his arms above his head. Locked up right across from him was Jonas, who hung slack in his shackles.

  “Why do you have us chained up like thieves?” snarled Nic. “Where is Cleo? I want to see Cleo!”

  Magnus moved closer to him. “You’re chained up like a thief, dear Nicolo, because when I pledge a partnership with someone, I assume a certain level of trust going forward. I don’t leave in the night, without any word or hint at where I’m going. What you did is unacceptable. As far as I knew, you were off gathering an army to help overthrow me.”

  “What an inspired idea. Wish I’d thought of it myself.”

  “You still don’t think very much of me, do you, Cassian?” Magnus smiled and patted Nic’s cheek.

  “You don’t want to know what I think of you.” Nic growled. “I need to see Cleo.”

  “And I need you to tell me what you’ve been up to this last week so that we can all be friends again. Then again, it has been a while since I’ve seen an execution. That last one was quite entertaining. Remember, Agallon? It was very . . . explosive, no?”

  Jonas neither responded nor moved.

  Given the rebel’s usual defiance, his silence was unnerving to Magnus.

  “We were acquiring a gift for the princess,” Nic said. “It takes time and effort to find something worthy.”

  “I’d rather hear it from Agallon.” Magnus grasped the rebel’s chin and raised his face up, expecting Jonas to spit in his face. Instead, Jonas simply stared straight forward, his eyes glazed over and dull.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Magnus frowned and flicked a glance at Nic. “Is he drunk?”

  Nic’s expression had grown haunted. “No.”

  Magnus let go of Jonas and walked a slow circle around the two prisoners. “Leave us,” he said to the guards.

  The guards bowed and left, closing the door behind them.

  “Where are the two girls you were traveling with? Lysandra and Olivia?” Magnus asked. Jonas and Nic had returned to the palace grounds alone.

  “Olivia’s gone. And Lys . . .” Nic swallowed hard. “Lysandra’s dead.”

  Jonas flinched, as if someone had cracked a whip against his back.

  Magnus was silent for a moment, trying to process the shock and strange sensation of dread that came with this news. “How?” he asked.

  Finally, Jonas rasped out: “Your sorceress sister.”

  Magnus’s breath caught in his chest. “Lucia? You’ve seen Lucia?”

  Jonas nodded weakly. “The man she was with, he murdered Lys. She tried to protect me, so he blasted her with fire. And then she was . . . just . . . gone.”

  The pain in Jonas’s voice was a living thing. Magnus felt its sharp claws dig deeply into his chest.

  Lucia and the man who’d tried to kill him with fire magic had been haunting his dream
s ever since her visit.

  “He must be a powerful witch,” Magnus said.

  “I don’t think he’s a witch,” said Nic, his earlier bravado all but disappeared. “I’ve seen him twice now and it . . . he seems much more powerful than that. Princess Lucia must have claimed the fire Kindred. And somehow she and Kyan figured out how use its magic. He’s in control of it now.”

  Magnus remembered the elemental wildfire that had broken out during the rebel attack on the road camp in eastern Paelsia. Whenever the fire touched a person, its flames burned blue, then shattered its victim like an ice sculpture.

  To think that this power was out there, controlled by someone traveling with his sister . . .

  “Why did you go there?” Magnus asked when he’d found his voice. “What did Princess Cleo want you to find for her there?”

  “Cleo had nothing to do with it,” Nic insisted. “We were visiting a market to search for a gift, just like I said. That’s all.”

  Magnus could have the boy tortured, beaten, put into isolation—but he knew his story would never change. As for Jonas, he was already half dead by the look of him.

  If the rebel had truly been broken by this, he’d be of no use to Magnus at all.

  “What about our deal?” Magnus asked, looking directly at Jonas.

  He lifted his gaze. “You’re choosing now, of all times, to ask me about that?”

  “I am. And I demand an answer.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know about anything anymore.”

  “I empathize with your pain, Agallon, I truly do. But this is a new day, which will be followed by another and then another after that. Your friend is dead, and that’s a tragedy, but nothing else has changed. Do you remember what you agreed to?”

  “Yes.”

  “And are we still in agreement?”

  There was an extended silence, through which Magnus waited patiently.

  “We are,” Jonas finally said.

  Magnus summoned the guards back into the tower. “Unchain these two, feed them, clean them up, and bring them to me in the throne room. We have an important matter to discuss.”

  • • •

  Jonas and Nic were brought into the throne room, both wearing fresh clothes and no longer smelling like they’d been traveling for days without a wash.

  “Sit,” Magnus instructed.

  Jonas took a seat, then Nic reluctantly did the same.

  Magnus pushed aside a stack of papers and picked up a message he’d received by raven that very morning. He slid it toward Nic. “Read it. Out loud.”

  With a sullen look on his face, Nic picked up the message, squinting at it in the dim late afternoon light.

  Your Highness, Prince Magnus Damora,

  Since I’m currently in Kraeshia, let me be as blunt as its people. I have been working as your father’s bodyguard during his trip here. He has offered the air Kindred to Emperor Cortas in exchange for sharing power over all of Mytica and Kraeshia.

  Nic paused, then looked up. “The king has the air Kindred?”

  Jonas had gone completely pale. “Keep reading,” he said, and Nic went on.

  Should the emperor refuse, believe me when I tell you that both you and your kingdom will be at great risk. I strongly advise you to respond to this message immediately, as well as send a representative here to Kraeshia as soon as possible. Mytica will need all the support it can get right now.

  I’ve included a piece of evidence to prove that I’m no longer loyal to King Gaius and his ruthless greed.

  With great hope for the future under your rule,

  Felix Graebas

  Nic unfolded the last length of the message and pulled out what looked like a small, dry piece of parchment. He held it up to the light. “What is this?”

  Jonas moved toward Nic to get a closer look at it. His eyes widened with shock. “Flayed skin. With a tattoo on it.”

  Nic dropped the piece of skin onto the tabletop.

  Magnus nodded. “That is the official Clan of the Cobra mark—a group of skilled assassins who work specifically for my father. Felix must have sliced it off his own arm.”

  Finally, a small spark of life returned to Jonas’s gaze. “I know Felix.”

  “You know him?” Magnus’s gaze snapped to the rebel’s. “How?”

  “I thought he was a friend before I learned about his ties to your father. We had a . . . falling-out, and then he took off, back to the king who gave him the assignment to infiltrate my group.”

  “Small world,” Magnus said, now unsure of the true intentions behind this message. “And proof enough that he isn’t trustworthy.”

  “Two weeks ago I might have agreed with you,” said Jonas, eyeing the tattoo and shaking his head. “But not now. Felix had decided to leave the Clan when he joined me, seeking redemption for his past. He was a true friend, and all I did was let him down.” He went silent for a moment. “I believe he’s telling the truth.”

  Magnus sat down heavily in his chair and pressed his hands flat atop the table. It seemed that he and Jonas agreed on something. What an odd development.

  His father was in Kraeshia with the emperor, conducting secret negotiations. And to think that, in his mind, Magnus was the traitor.

  To rule the world was exactly what Gaius Damora wanted. And now he had the air Kindred.

  Lucia and Kyan had the fire Kindred.

  Amara had stolen the water Kindred.

  That left only the earth Kindred unaccounted for.

  “Agallon, you will go to Kraeshia as my representative to speak with Felix and his new group of rebels,” Magnus announced. “And then you’ll find my father and put a dagger through his heart.”

  It was the only way this could end.

  “Will you do this?” Magnus asked after all had gone utterly silent at the table.

  Jonas nodded. “I will.”

  “Good. You’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

  CHAPTER 21

  CLEO

  LIMEROS

  Roused from slumber, Cleo opened her eyes to find her room in shadows, and the sky outside her window still dark save for the light of the moon.

  “Princess,” whispered an urgent voice. “I’m sorry to disturb you so early.”

  A lantern’s blaze cut through the darkness, bringing the face of Cleo’s confidante into view.

  She wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat up in bed. “What is it, Nerissa? Is something wrong?”

  “I’m not sure ‘wrong’ is quite the correct word . . . but there’s something I knew you’d want to know, and it can’t wait until morning.”

  “Tell me.”

  Nerissa sat on the edge of the bed. “Jonas and Nic returned yesterday.”

  “What? Why am I not hearing this until now?”

  “The prince got to them first and didn’t want you to know.”

  Oh, no. A thousand different scenarios of how their return might have played out burst into her head at once.

  “Are they all right? What has Magnus done to them?”

  “They’re fine,” Nerissa assured her. “I just saw them briefly. Jonas asked me to tell you he’s leaving at dawn, boarding a ship at Black Harbor bound for Kraeshia.”

  “To Kraeshia? Why to Kraeshia? To go after Amara and the water Kindred?”

  “No. The prince has learned that King Gaius is currently in Kraeshia. He’s sent him over to . . . take care of that situation.”

  “Oh. I see.” Cleo was beyond surprised. Why would Magnus trust the rebel with such an important mission, especially after his unexplained disappearance? How desperate and bereft of other options he must be.

  “Where’s Nic now?” she asked.

  “He’s back in his room, sleeping I assume.”

  Cleo felt a sudden thud of disappointment. “If their trip to Paelsia had been successful, they would have woken me immediately to deliver the news.”

  “I’m sure Nic will tell you all about their trip in the morning.” Nerissa rose from t
he bed. “For now, go back to sleep. You’ll need your rest tomorrow.”

  It didn’t feel right to her, any of it.

  “Why would Magnus make such a monumental decision without consulting me first? Why hide it from me?”

  “I don’t know,” Nerissa said, shaking her head. “Do you usually expect him to consult with you?”

  “I don’t have any idea what I expect from him anymore,” she muttered. “Thank you for telling me this, Nerissa.”

  “Try to sleep, princess.” Nerissa doused the flame in the lantern and turned to go.

  “Do you really think I’ll be able to go back to sleep now?”

  Nerissa glanced over her shoulder. “Princess?”

  “Help me get ready,” Cleo said, pushing off her blankets and climbing out of bed. “We need to get to Black Harbor before dawn.”

  • • •

  Black Harbor was located at the bottom of the high cliffs, below the castle grounds. A snaking road allowed travel by cart and carriage, but that route would make for a long journey, so Cleo and Nerissa decided instead to take the steps chiseled into the side of the cliff.

  The treacherous, icy steps chiseled into the side of the cliff.

  Finally, they reached the docks.

  “Perhaps this was a foolish idea,” Cleo whispered, her cheeks stinging from the frigid wind.

  “Not at all,” Nerissa assured her. “I admire you. You’re standing up for yourself. You’re not letting others make decisions that affect you. However . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “I wish we were still in Auranos. This cold is unbearable, and I miss the warmth of home.”

  Cleo couldn’t help but laugh. “Agreed.”

  The small harbor was used only for docking ships visiting the palace, and for import and export. Today there were three large ships docked: two bearing the Auranian crest that carried imported goods such as vegetables, fruits, grains, and live animals—crates of chickens, pigs, and sheep—and one black ship with red sails bearing the Limerian cobra signet. Painted on the side of the ship were the words Strength, Faith, and Wisdom.