She opened her mouth, but nothing came out for a moment. Her throat was nearly too tight to speak. “I’m so sorry.”
Magnus sprang to his feet. “Sabina was going to kill me.”
“And you saved him with your magic.” The king shook Lucia. “Didn’t you?”
All Lucia could do was nod, her gaze moving to the floor, hot tears streaking down her cheeks.
The king grasped her chin and forced her to look into his face. His grim expression was now mixed with something else.
Victory.
A hawk took flight from its perch on the edge of the balcony as the king said, “I couldn’t be more proud of you than I am right now.”
Ioannes transformed back into his body once he returned to the Sanctuary and opened his eyes, staring up at the constant blue sky that never shifted to night.
“I was right,” he whispered.
He’d watched over the dark-haired princess for years, waiting for a sign. In recent months he’d despaired that he was wrong and had been following a girl who held no magic within her.
But he hadn’t been.
A sorceress had finally been born to lead them back to their former glory. The magic that he’d witnessed pour from the girl’s very being tonight held no equal in the mortal world—nor in the immortal one.
“You were right about what?” someone asked.
Ioannes tensed and sat up to find that even Watchers were watched. It was another elder, Danaus. While all Watchers held the same eternal youth, the same level of beauty, Ioannes had always felt that there was something slightly dark and sinister about Danaus lurking just beneath the surface.
Danaus had never done anything that went beyond the unspoken rules of the Sanctuary. But there was still...something. Something that Ioannes didn’t trust.
“I was right that spring is soon to come,” he said. “I sensed it even in frozen Limeros.”
“Spring comes every year in the mortal world.”
“Yet it’s always a miracle.”
Danaus’s lips thinned. “A true miracle will be to find the answers we seek after so many centuries.”
“Impatient, are we?”
“If I was still capable of taking flight in the mortal world, I think we’d already know where the Kindred is.”
“Then it’s truly a shame that you can’t.” Only the younger Watchers were able to transform into hawks or—much more rarely—visit the dreams of mortals. Once Watchers moved beyond a certain age, they lost these abilities forever. “You could always physically leave this realm.”
“And never return?” Danaus smiled thinly. “Would that please you, Ioannes?”
“Of course not. But I’m saying it’s an option if you grow weary of waiting for the rest of us to find the answers.”
Danaus picked up a leaf that had fallen from an oak tree. The leaf was not green with life but brown. It was a small but disturbing sign that the Sanctuary was fading. There was no autumn here, when leaves would naturally die. Only summer. Only daylight. Eternally.
At least, until the Kindred was lost. The fade had taken many centuries to begin, but it finally had.
“You would tell me if you’d seen something of importance,” Danaus said. It was not a question. “Anything that could return the Kindred to its rightful place.”
It seemed ludicrous to think something dark about an elder, but Ioannes was not that young and not that naive. He remembered when two of his kind had turned their backs on the Sanctuary, killing the last sorceress and stealing what was so priceless and essential to their existence. They had given in to their greed. To their lust for power. Ultimately, it had destroyed them. And now their actions, so many years ago, had the potential to destroy everything.
Who was to say that they were the only ones who could not be trusted?
“Of course, Danaus.” Ioannes nodded. “I will tell you anything I learn, no matter how small it might seem.”
It was not in a Watcher’s nature to lie, but he felt he had no choice.
What he’d discovered had to be protected. At any cost.
It had been a long night, and Jonas knew he wouldn’t be getting a wink of sleep.
First, he’d gone to Sera’s grandmother’s home and looked in the window, through a small opening in the worn canvas covering, to prove to himself that it couldn’t possibly be Princess Cleiona that Sera spoke of. Ever since he’d left the tavern, he’d doubted his own instincts.
The golden-haired girl slept upon a straw mattress by the fireplace, her eyes closed, her face peaceful.
It was her.
Fury burned inside him. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to barge into the cottage, wrap his hands around her royal throat, and squeeze until he witnessed the life slowly fade from her eyes. Maybe then he could rest. Maybe then he could feel that his brother’s murder had been avenged in some small way.
Such a moment of pure vengeance would taste so sweet. But it would be over too soon. Instead, he rode hard to the chief’s camp and told him about Princess Cleo’s unexpected presence in Paelsia.
The chief hadn’t seemed to care. “What difference does it make if some rich and spoiled child decides to explore my land?”
“But she’s the Auranian princess,” Jonas argued. “She could have been sent here by her father as a spy.”
“A sixteen-year-old spy? Who’s also a princess? Please. She’s harmless.”
“I strongly disagree.”
The chief eyed him curiously. “Then what do you suggest?”
An excellent question. And one he’d considered since confirming Cleo’s identity. How bold and disrespectful she was—this princess who saw no harm in coming to the same place where she’d caused such pain and suffering.
He took a deep breath before he spoke, trying his best to remain calm. “I suggest we look at this as an opportunity to capture her. I’m certain her father would go to extremes to ensure her safe return. We could send him a message.”
“I’m to travel to Auranos with King Gaius for a meeting with King Corvin in four days. We hope to negotiate his surrender. You and your friend Brion will be joining me. If we were to deliver such a message, we’d do it ourselves.”
To see King Corvin’s face when they told him that Cleo was in their grasp...
It would be a small serving of revenge on behalf of all Paelsians to a selfish, self-involved king who had no vision beyond his own glittering kingdom.
“What better than to have the king’s own daughter if the negotiations go awry?” Jonas said.
Any battle, no matter how well organized, would result in the loss of Paelsian life—especially with the untrained citizens who were being recruited to fight side by side with the armored Limerian knights and soldiers. A surrender from King Corvin without the necessity of war would be an ideal outcome. The chief pursed his lips, fiddling with the high mound of food on the plate before him, even now after midnight. Jonas ignored the girls who danced behind him by the campfire as Basilius’s late night entertainment.
It still troubled him to see a glimpse of the same excess and decadence here in the compound as what he wished to rebel against in Auranos. Many in the villages told stories of the luxuries Chief Basilius was allowed as their leader—paid for by the excessive wine tax. None had a problem with it. They held him to a different standard; he represented their hope. Many worshipped the chief as a god, believing that he held powerful magic within him. Perhaps such magic could only be coaxed out with dancing girls and slabs of roasted goat meat.
Finally the chief nodded. “It’s an excellent plan. I officially give you the task of detaining the girl. King Gaius begins his journey from Limeros to my compound tomorrow—from here we will go to Auranos united. I’ll let him know the news of King Corvin’s daughter when he arrives.”
/> Jonas grimaced. He hated that the Limerian king—the leader of a land who’d treated Paelsia no better than Auranos had over the years—was such a close confidant of the chief now. He’d like to argue that this wasn’t necessary, but knew he’d be soundly ignored—or worse, banished from the compound and the chief’s confidence—if he did.
So be it.
“Go,” the chief ordered, “find this girl and lock her up somewhere nice and tight.” He gave Jonas a thin smile. “And try your best to treat her with respect. She is royalty.” The chief was well aware of Jonas’s personal issues with the princess, as was everyone within twenty miles of his village.
“Of course.” Jonas bowed and turned to leave.
“Once we’ve secured King Corvin’s surrender, however, you have my permission to do whatever you wish with her.” With Jonas dismissed, the chief resumed his large meal and his attention shifted to the dancing girls.
Jonas couldn’t guarantee that he’d be able to treat the princess with respect. His obsessive hate for her was palpable, bitter, and growing by the day. His blood boiled. Part of him wished he hadn’t come to see the chief. He could have killed Cleo in the unprotected cottage and nobody would ever have had to know but himself. Waiting until after they’d seen the Auranian king might prove a challenge.
But even he recognized that a permanent change for his people was more important than revenge. The princess was worth more alive than dead.
For now.
Cleo’s optimism had fully returned by the time she and Nic were ready to depart from Eirene’s cottage before dawn the next morning. She clutched the old woman’s hands and looked into her wise old eyes. “Much gratitude for your generosity. You were too kind to us.”
“You have a good heart, Cleo.” Eirene smiled. “And I can see that you love your older sister with every piece of that heart. I hope that you find the answers you seek to save her.”
So did Cleo. “Tell me the best way I can contact you. Does this village have a central place where messages can be sent—perhaps to the inn? I want to send you something when I return home to repay you for your kindness.” She would make sure that the old woman would be sent money and gifts for coming to their aid last night. Eirene and Sera would live very comfortably for years to come.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I insist!”
Eirene’s brows drew together. “Very well. I am good friends with the owner of the tavern. I suppose he could accept a message for me. I’ll write down his name for you.”
She went into her cottage and returned a few moments later with a small ragged envelope that she pressed into Cleo’s hand.
“Thank you.” Cleo smiled as she tucked it into the pocket of her skirt.
“Magic will find those with pure hearts, even when all seems lost. And love is the greatest magic of all. I know this to be true.” She kissed Cleo’s cheeks and then did the same with Nic. After a last farewell, Cleo and Nic began walking away from the cottage. The sun had still not risen.
Eirene’s story last night about the goddesses and the Watchers didn’t work as a deterrent to Cleo’s quest. It only solidified her growing belief that the magic she sought did exist. Emilia’s life would be saved. Cleo focused on nothing else but that. And when she set her mind to something, it happened. No matter how she had to go about achieving it.
Unfortunately, she seemed to be in the minority this morning.
“You’re going home,” Nic told her firmly.
“Excuse me?” She stopped walking to face him. They were only a few cottages away from Eirene’s.
“You heard me,” Nic said. “Home. You going there. Without delay.”
“I can’t go! Not yet.”
“I thought we already agreed on this.” He sighed and raked a hand through his messy red hair. “It’s been a week and we’ve found nothing but stories. I don’t think it’s safe for you to remain here traipsing about with me. Perhaps it was wrong for me to allow you to come here in the first place.”
“You allowed me?” She raised her voice. “I do what I want when I want.”
“Which might be part of the problem. You’re so used to getting your own way that you fail to be cautious when the situation calls for it.”
She just glared at him.
“No argument?” he said, nodding. “Excellent. So you agree it’s time for you to go back to Auranos.”
“I’m not finished with my search. There are still villages to visit.”
“I’ll stay for a while. And I’ll do whatever I can to find information on this Watcher you’re convinced is hiding out somewhere in this land. But first I’m going to see you onto a ship back to Auranos so I know you’re safe—and so, more importantly, the king knows you’re safe. We’ve been gone long enough.”
One side of her wanted to fight this with every fiber of her being. The other side couldn’t help but see Nic’s logic. Her heart swelled with gratitude toward him. “You’d really stay here for me?”
“Of course I would.”
She threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “You are truly my best friend in the entire world, do you know that?”
“I’m glad to hear it. Besides, I’m in no hurry to go back to the palace and face the wrath of the king for running off with his daughter.”
He was undoubtedly right, but she’d hoped not to think of that for a while longer. Both her father and Theon would be livid with her—and Nic. It was one thing if she returned victorious with the solution she’d sought in the palm of her hand and another if she scurried back defeated with her tail between her legs.
So they’d be angry. Fine. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last. She’d deal with any repercussions when the time came.
“I want to stay and help you,” she said softly.
“Accept it, Cleo. You can’t always have everything you want.”
She snorted against the softness of his tunic. “Very well. Have it your way. You can be the hero.”
“It’s always been my dream.”
“Back to the harbor, then.”
“The harbor.” He nodded and presented his hand to her. She took it.
As they started walking, Cleo had the oddest sensation that they were being watched. She turned her head to look, but no one was there. A mile west of the village, they turned onto a dusty road and she felt it again. Like cold fingers trailing down her spine.
“Ouch. You do have quite a grip on you, Cleo.”
“Shh,” she whispered. “Somebody’s watching us.”
He frowned. “What?”
They turned to see in the gathering light a tall, dark-haired boy moving toward them along the road. Cleo froze in place as he swiftly caught up to them. Her breath caught as she realized it was the very same boy who haunted her dreams.
Jonas Agallon.
“What are you—” she began.
He gave her an unfriendly grin. “Morning, princess. Such an honor to see you again.”
And then he slammed his fist into Nic’s face, dropping the boy to the ground. Nic scrambled back up to his feet immediately, his nose gushing blood.
Cleo screamed. “What are you doing?”
“Relieving you of your protection.” Jonas swung Nic around until he faced Cleo and pressed a dagger—the very same jeweled dagger that Aron had used to kill Tomas!—to Nic’s throat.
“Don’t!” she shrieked. “Please, no! Don’t hurt him!”
This was all happening too fast. How did he even know she was here?
“Don’t hurt him?” Jonas eyed her. Nic fought against him, but Jonas was much taller and more muscular. He was able to keep the skinny boy easily under control. “Are you saying that you care for him? That his death might cause you pain?”
“Le
t him go right now!”
“Why should I?” His dark-eyed gaze swept over her. She shivered under the coldness of his glare.
“Run, Cleo!” Nic shouted.
But she didn’t run. She would never abandon him like this.
“What do you want from me?” she demanded.
“That’s a dangerous question. I want lots of things, none of which would probably set your pretty mind at ease. For now, I want to kill your friend and watch you grieve his loss.”
“No, please!” She staggered forward with an immediate urge to grab his arm and wrench the knife away from Nic’s throat. But she knew she wasn’t nearly powerful enough to do that. This was a very strong boy, one who hated her for what happened to his brother. One who had threatened in public to kill her. She had to think. She had to remain calm so she could negotiate with this heathen.
“I can give you plenty of money if you spare his life.”
His expression turned to ice. “Money? How about fourteen Auranian centimos for each case of wine? Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”
Cleo swallowed and tried not to sound as if she was begging. “Don’t kill him. I know you hate me for what Aron did—”
His eyes flashed with anger. “Hate is such a small word for what I feel for you.”
“Your gripe is with me, then. Not with Nic. Let him go!”
“Sorry. I don’t follow orders very well.”
“You mean to kill me to avenge your brother’s death.” Her throat thickened with fear.
His expression tightened. “No. My goal today doesn’t include such a pleasure as that. Your friend here, on the other hand, might find that today is his last.”
“Cleo, are you deaf?” Nic snarled. “I told you to run!”
“I’m not leaving you!” Her voice broke and tears burned in her eyes.
Jonas frowned at her. “Isn’t that sweet? You should do as your friend suggests and try to run. You won’t get far, but you can try. It would be a moment of bravery for such a cowardly girl.”
She glared at him. “If you think I’m cowardly, you know nothing about me.”