Gathering Darkness

by Morgan Rhodes

  After a moment, however, the sweetness faded and was replaced by a more unpleasant scent. Not yet offensive, but somewhat . . . wrong. Perhaps it was only Magnus’s imagination.

  But he thought he smelled the acrid scent of something stolen. Much like everything the king claimed as his.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Amara gushed. “I only wish that it was closer to the palace.”

  As stunning as the villa was, the king didn’t choose it for its beauty. He wanted to keep the Kraeshians at a safe distance.

  “Transportation will be provided for you and your guards so you can visit as often as you wish. You and your brother are welcome at any time.”

  Amara was much more welcome than Ashur, in Magnus’s opinion. Despite his father’s suspicions about the prince’s motives, Ashur’s questions had blindsided Magnus. They had pulled him back to that deadly battle against the rebels and Jonas Agallon himself. He remembered the strange fire, and the beautiful Watcher who’d perished in a flash of light at Xanthus’s hands, but not before she’d told Magnus how to help Lucia:

  “There is a ring that was forged in the Sanctuary from the purest magic to help the original sorceress control the Kindred and her own elementia. This ring is closer that you might expect.”

  Perhaps she had only been playing with him, distracting him to allow Jonas the chance to escape.

  And now to hear rumors of a being of fire roaming the countryside . . .

  “Your grace.” Amara touched his arm. “Are you still with me?”

  Magnus tried to push the cobwebs from his head and focus on the girl before him. “Apologies. I don’t mean to be rude. I was just thinking of your brother. He’s very curious about local legends.”

  She groaned. “He’s going on about the Kindred again, isn’t he? It’s been a hobby of his for years, learning all about magic. I’ve always thought it was a waste of valuable time.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless, of course, it turns out to be true.”

  “I hope he’s not too disappointed when his quest turns up nothing but rocks and dirt.”

  “As most quests do.” She laughed, gently placing her hand on his arm as they strolled. “I find you very interesting. I see why Cleo is so taken with you.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “You think she is?”

  “Of course. To be married to such a strong and handsome prince . . .” She cast a sidelong look at him through her thick black lashes. “I can’t help but envy her.”

  Magnus wasn’t accustomed to the way Amara flirted. He’d found that some girls showed interest by keeping their distance, giggling with their friends as he passed by in the palace halls. He’d encountered a handful of others who had been bold and fearless in their approaches, hoping to gain his attention. But most girls would simply cast fearful glances at him, assuming he was as cruel and cold as his father.

  He couldn’t help but be slightly intrigued by the sly look in Amara’s eyes. She played at being coy, but she was just the opposite.

  “Are you not betrothed yet?” he asked as they continued along a garden path flanked by flowers and manicured foliage. A brown rabbit hopped across in front of them, seemingly unconcerned by their presence.

  “No. I’ve asked to wait until I find someone to my liking. No one in my family has ever waited as long as I have to wed. Well, no one except Ashur.”

  “He’s not been betrothed?”

  “He has. Three times. Each engagement ended for the same reason: He eventually decided he wasn’t interested enough in any of the girls to spend the rest of his life with them.” She shook her head, clearly amused by her brother’s romantic antics. “He is the youngest son, so my father has allowed him the kind of freedom he never would have allowed my older brothers.”

  As firstborn and heir, Magnus never expected to be given such freedom, even if he’d been born to a different father. It was impossible even to imagine what it would be like to lead such an unsupervised life. “Perhaps it’s best to wait for the right person rather than agree to an arranged marriage, if one has the choice.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I believe only in duty and loyalty to the throne.” And that throne would be his one day soon.

  Amara turned to him, boldly placing her hand flat upon his chest. He looked down with surprise but didn’t step away. “Do you believe in the idea that two people could feel such instant attraction the moment they first meet that it’s impossible to ignore? That something intangible happens that binds them together—like they’re soul mates?”

  Most girls liked to muse about such silly, irrelevant things as love at first sight and hearts ablaze with passion. Quite honestly, Magnus could not think of a single subject he was less interested in exploring, even with a girl as beautiful as Amara.

  “I suppose it’s possible,” he lied. “But I don’t—”

  Before he could finish, Amara pulled his face to hers and kissed him. It happened so quickly that if she’d had a knife, she could have slain him right where he stood without a fight.

  Her lips were soft yet demanding, and she smelled of jasmine and peach blossoms.

  Finally, she drew back from him, her gaze now fixed on the ground. “Apologies. I couldn’t help myself.”

  He grappled for a response. “Don’t apologize.”

  “I’d hate for Cleo to find out.” She furrowed her brow slightly. “I’d hoped she and I could become good friends. The last thing I’d want to do is to make her jealous.”

  As if that were even possible. “Let’s not speak of it again.”

  “Not unless you want to speak of this again.” She paused. “I must admit, I would welcome that conversation.”

  She was surprising in so many ways, the bold and unexpected kiss being only the most recent. He wasn’t sure what to make of her—was she a princess out for fun and scandal, or was she more ambitious and strategic? Whichever it was, it did feel as if a game had begun between them, and Amara had made the first move.

  Amara turned to her handmaiden. “Let’s go back inside and ensure the trunks are being placed in the correct rooms, shall we?”

  The handmaiden curtsyed. “Yes, princess.”

  Magnus watched the two girls walk back to the villa. Just before they passed the threshold, out came Prince Ashur, making his way down the garden pathway with a smug look on his face.

  “My sister is quite a handful, isn’t she?” he said.

  That was an understatement, but Magnus was accustomed to dealing with complicated princesses. “She certainly strikes me as a girl who likes to forge her own path.”

  “Indeed.”

  “It’s time for me to return to the palace. I hope that you have everything you need here.”

  “Everything except the answers I seek,” Ashur said. “Perhaps you can be more accommodating to me another day.”

  “Perhaps.” Magnus turned to go, but stopped himself. “I almost forgot something.”

  “What’s that?”

  He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulled out a tightly wrapped package, then unfolded the cloth to reveal a small golden dagger.

  Ashur blinked.

  “Princess Cleiona offers much gratitude for your wedding gift of this Kraeshian bridal dagger, but she has asked me to return it at my earliest convenience. It’s such a pretty present, but it could easily injure someone by accident. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  Ashur took the blade and dared to meet Magnus’s gaze. “No, we wouldn’t.”

  “I’ll see you again soon,” Magnus said, turning away for good now. “I hope you continue to enjoy your stay in my father’s little kingdom.”

  The Kraeshians weren’t the only ones capable of playing games.

  CHAPTER 6

  LUCIA

  AURANOS

  The walls were closing in on her.


  For far too long, Lucia had been cooped up inside the palace. Her father’s concern over her health had kept her from being able to freely roam around outside. She’d tolerated the king’s overprotective nature, knowing he kept her confined only because he loved her, but as the weeks passed, her desire for freedom had grown.

  It was now too strong to ignore. She had to make a stand today, to demand permission to seek fresh air beyond the palace courtyard, to explore the kingdom she had helped to conquer. And she wouldn’t allow anyone—not even the king—to control her.

  She prayed to the goddess Valoria for the strength and wisdom she needed, then left her chambers, confident in her quest.

  Just the thought of breaking free breathed new life into her as she made her way to the throne room, where a council meeting was just letting out. She stood and waited as members of her father’s trusted circle brushed past her at the entryway.

  “So pleased you’re feeling better, princess,” one bald, squat man said with a curt nod in her direction.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Magnus was there among the councilmen, but he offered her no greeting, friendly or otherwise, as he slipped from the room like a shadow. Aside from the pleasantries they muttered during formal gatherings to keep up appearances, all of their interactions had been just as cold recently.

  It wasn’t his fault that their relationship had soured—not entirely. The thought of their broken bond made her heart ache.

  Once the last of the councilmen had departed, her father greeted her. “Lucia. It’s wonderful to see you, my dear.”

  She’d practiced the words on her way through the still-unfamiliar corridors. Now all she had to do was say them.

  “I’d like permission to leave the palace today,” she said, rushing to speak before she had the chance to doubt herself.

  He raised his dark brow. “Would you, now.”

  “I know you don’t think it’s safe, but I disagree. The city is walled and well secured. I’ll take several guards with me. But I—I can’t tell you how much I need to get out of here and breathe some fresh air. To see something new. Even the courtyard and gardens are oppressive to me now. I feel like a prisoner here.”

  “Of course you’re not a prisoner, Lucia.” The king drew closer, his expression one of genuine concern. “You think I’d deny you this request?”

  “I don’t know. I know you worry about my safety.”

  He touched her cheek, a smile playing over the thin line of his mouth. “I’ve seen what you can do. I have no doubt you would be able to protect yourself if you were ever threatened.”

  Her heart leapt. “Then you’re giving your permission.”

  “And if I say no?”

  A spark of anger ignited within her. “But why would you? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. Everything! You yourself said I can protect myself. And I can! I ask for one little thing in all these months and you would deny me—”

  “Lucia,” he said, cutting her off. “I was merely asking rhetorically to see if you’d be willing to fight for what you want. I see now that you are, and that you came here knowing you would accept only one response from me. Good. I like to see that fire in you, that strength. If ever anyone tries to deny you something you want, then you just take it, no matter who they are. Is that clear?”

  Lucia relaxed. The king was only imparting a lesson, one that she received happily. “Yes, Father.”

  “However, I do suggest you consult a knowledgeable guide so as not to waste your valuable time on mediocre sites.”

  She nodded eagerly, her heart thudding with anticipation. “I will.”

  “Good.” He went to the long council table, glancing at the parchment and letters and formal documents still strewn on its surface from the meeting, then returned his attention back to Lucia. “Tell me, though—how is your magic coming along? Your control?”

  The king asked her the same questions every day. He knew how much her abilities had troubled her in the past and had tried to find tutors to help her—so far to no avail. Her magic was more powerful than anything her tutors had encountered before. “Better, I think. I work on it every day.” On trying to repress it, to keep it from killing anyone else, she thought. “I try my best.”

  “Of course. I expect no less. One day, very soon I hope, I will need to call upon your gift again to help me.” He nodded. “Now. Go enjoy your day in the city and the sun on your face. I will see you back for dinner.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  Just when she had written him off as strict and cruel and oppressive, he showed that he could be the opposite. The way he had just looked at her, the same way he had ever since her first show of elementia, with pride and admiration and love . . .

  It started to thaw the ice that had begun to settle in her heart.

  The king had been unquestionably harsh with Magnus over the years, to ensure his son would grow up a strong and worthy heir. But he’d been nothing but kind and patient with Lucia.

  She wanted so desperately to believe he loved her as if she were of his blood.

  But you’re not, a small voice reminded her. He stole you from your true mother because of the prophecy. Because he wanted your magic for himself and no one else.

  Despite that constant reminder in the back of her head, the king was her most constant supporter. Even in her most challenging moments, when she’d had no one else to turn to, he’d always assured her that she was a good person, that her powers weren’t evil or malicious or dark or hateful. They were good.

  She was Princess Lucia Eva Damora, daughter of King Gaius, in every way that counted.

  And today she had his permission to leave the palace.

  • • •

  The king had told her to consult a guide who was familiar with the city. But he never specified who this guide should be.

  “Apologies, Princess Lucia, but she is not allowed past the palace gates without the king’s permission.”

  Lucia looked from the guard to Cleo, who stood next to her, exasperated.

  “It’s all right,” Cleo said. “I’ll stay here. I don’t want any trouble.”

  Lucia was still uncertain about Cleo, but if there was anyone who knew this city well, it was her. And if there was anyone besides Lucia who knew what it felt to be trapped inside the palace all day and night, it was Cleo as well.

  She turned now to the guard with what she hoped was her iciest glare. “I have my father’s permission to leave the palace and I’m taking my brother’s wife with me. Let us pass, or I won’t be pleased.”

  “But, princess—”

  She raised her hand, silencing him. “You do know how much my father adores me?”

  “Of course, your highness. But I have my orders. You must understand.”

  “I understand perfectly. You see Princess Cleiona as the daughter of the former king. But in fact she is my sister-in-law and she will be your future queen when my brother takes the throne. Therefore, you will treat her with respect. And you will step aside and let us pass while I still have some patience intact.”

  As the king said, if someone denies her something, then she should just take it, no matter who they are.

  She couldn’t agree more.

  Lucia watched the guard’s face scrunch up as he fought an inner battle. Finally, he bowed. “As you command, your highness.”

  The guards opened the gates, letting Lucia and Cleo—and the four guards attending them—into the City of Gold. Lucia took a deep breath, relishing the moment.

  It was like entering a dream.

  The day was hot, the sky blue and cloudless. The sun shone bright upon their faces as it transformed the road before them into a glittering ribbon of gold that weaved throughout the city. Only the most privileged and important citizens in Auranos had the honor of calling this area home. The vil
las were mostly found south of the palace; the shops and industrial center to the north. Encircling it all like an enormous jeweled crown was a tall golden wall monitored day and night by sentinels.

  There was no palace city like this in Limeros. There, the royal castle was perched upon the edge of an icy cliff, private and secluded. Dotting the landscape were villas owned by nobles and small villages. The Temple of Valoria and the capital city of Ravencrest were each a half day’s journey away.

  Nothing in Limeros was as convenient as it was here in the south. Anything an Auranian could ever want was readily available within a short stroll of the palace.

  “It’s so strange,” said Cleo as she hurried to keep pace with Lucia’s longer strides.

  “What?”

  “The city has barely changed. I don’t know why I expected it to look different—I did see glimpses of it as I left for the wedding tour—but it appears to be exactly the same as it ever was.”

  Lucia considered this. A new king in power, vastly different from the one he replaced, and yet, through the eyes of a lifelong citizen, daily life appeared to be unchanged. She was surprised that her father hadn’t made more adjustments to this frivolous and hedonistic place. The excess of it all seemed distasteful to her—gold and silver and glittering jewels on the throats of seemingly every citizen, gold in the streets themselves, shining under the sunlight.

  Limeros wasn’t poor like Paelsia was, but Limerians thought it unacceptable to flaunt their wealth as Auranians did. She found the culture here vaguely sickening, but after all she’d heard of this place, it wasn’t completely unexpected.

  “True change will take time,” Lucia finally replied.

  “Of course, you’re right,” Cleo said quietly.

  Perhaps that wasn’t the comforting response Cleo had sought.

  They walked on, drawing the attention of the people they passed. Some pointed and whispered, seeming pleased and even elated, unable to keep their eyes off of Cleo, who returned their waves and smiles without hesitation.