“Confidence is a virtue I lacked in the past. But now I find I’m overflowing with it.” Lucia took her eyes off Lysandra and addressed the rest of Jonas’s group. “Now, enough of this. You’re boring our audience. They’d much prefer to see a little action, don’t you think? Let’s start with some dust.”
Lucia flicked her wrist, and Lysandra’s bow and arrow disintegrated into a pile of sawdust and ashes, drawing gasps from the crowd.
“She’s a witch!” someone yelled. “An evil witch!” The mass of people rose up in murmurs and yells, and then a rock came hurtling toward Lucia’s head.
She held up her hand, palm forward. The rock froze midair, less than a foot from her face. Another flick of her wrist and it, too, was transformed to a fluttering of dust.
“Now,” she said, turning back to Jonas, “about that earth Kindred you stole from me.”
Jonas had heard all about Lucia’s visit to Limeros, and he didn’t underestimate the sorceress for a moment. “Sorry,” he said, “but I don’t have it.”
“Oh, please, Jonas. Do you really think you can fool me so easily? Let’s try again.”
“Princess Lucia . . .” he began, but then he was interrupted by a sudden crackling of lightning above. The storm had begun to gather again. A sickening feeling seeped into his stomach. This storm was made from magic, he realized. Summoned by a sorceress who could conjure darkness and evil without even a single crack to her calm, collected exterior.
“Yes, Jonas?” Lucia replied, a menacing smile creeping over her beautiful face.
“You want the earth Kindred?” His mouth was dry, his heart was pounding, but he tried to keep his voice steady and confident.
“Obviously.”
“Then I propose a partnership.”
She raised a brow. “And I propose that you hand over the Kindred before I light you and your friends on fire.”
“All right, all right.” He held up his hands, wracking his mind for the right way to deal with this dangerous girl. “Not the time to consider a partnership. Understood.”
“Trust me on this, rebel. You have no idea what you’ve stolen.”
“Kill her!” came a shout from the crowd. “The King of Blood’s daughter deserves to die!” A chorus of cheers and cries for justice followed, and Jonas turned to scowl at his unwanted and vastly unhelpful audience.
This was all his fault. He’d just had to intervene when he saw that thief snatch a bag of coins from a pretty girl.
Good deeds had never served him well.
Jonas looked up again at the roiling storm clouds above. “Princess, listen to me,” he said. “I am not your enemy.”
A roll of thunder rumbled. “Everyone is my enemy.”
“I want you to know that I wasn’t the one who killed the queen.”
“I’m disappointed to hear that,” she said. “That was the single thing I liked about you before now.”
“Enough talk,” Lysandra growled. “My parents are dead because of your father. Because of your father, my village was enslaved. Because of your father, my brother was executed right in front of me!”
“I am sorry for your loss, Lysandra. Truly. But King Gaius is not my real father. Queen Althea was not my real mother. I hate the Damoras every bit as much as you do.”
Surprised by this sudden admission, Jonas sent a furtive glance at Olivia. Could she help if this got out of control?
Most likely she would only prove herself to be nothing more than a common witch, powerless against a prophesied sorceress with her heart set on vengeance.
But he knew there had to be a way to resolve this without anyone getting hurt.
“If that’s true, then I have an excellent suggestion for you,” Jonas said slowly, evenly. “You should become a rebel.”
Amusement flickered in the princess’s sky-blue eyes. “And bumble along with the lot of you, failing at every turn? What a brilliant suggestion.”
Jonas ignored the bite in her words. “Well, why not? By joining us you could help bring peace back to Mytica, end the suffering of its people.”
“And how do you think you’re going to do all that? By using me and my magic to achieve your goals? Apologies, rebel, but my charitable days are over.”
Jonas had to bite back the snarky, smug responses to this incredibly abrasive girl as they shot through his mind. He took a deep breath. “If King Gaius’s daughter were to stand up in defiance against him, everyone all over Mytica will wake up and begin to see through his lies. Not only would even more Auranians and Paelsians band together and rise up against him, but Limerians, too. It’s Limeros that’s been trapped under his thumb for all these years, and it’s those citizens who would benefit most from the demise of his regime. It will be a revolution of both body and spirit, and your magic would have very little to do with it.”
“Jonas,” Nic growled. “Look at her. She’s clearly not interested in listening to reason.”
“Now, now, Nicolo, be nice,” Lucia said. “I’m perfectly capable of thinking and answering for myself.” She turned back to Jonas. “You make excellent points, Jonas. But you mistake me for someone who cares about peace or ending the suffering of common citizens. Don’t look so surprised. After all, even if I don’t share their blood, I was raised a Damora.”
Jonas searched her expression for a hint of something soft, something other than vengeance. But all he found was rage, and suddenly he felt pity for her. “What happened to you to make you so angry? So bitter?”
“Perhaps I was born this way.”
Jonas shook his head. “I doubt it. No one is born with such hatred in their hearts.”
“How dare you presume to know anything about me, Jonas Agallon.”
“I know more than you might think, and I have a very reliable gut. You’re a good person, princess. You could improve so many lives with your magic. You could change the world. Make it better, brighter, happier. Don’t you see that?”
“I don’t care about any of that. All I want right now is for you to hand over the earth Kindred.”
Jonas was about to respond when a voice cut through the conversation, interrupting them. “What was that?” A young, fair-haired man approached Lucia, his expression fearless and quizzical. “Did I hear you say something about the earth Kindred?”
Lucia pursed her lips and glanced at him. “I didn’t expect you back from your errand so soon.”
“I move quickly.” The man looked at Jonas, his brow furrowed. “Am I to understand that you are in possession of the obsidian orb?”
“Jonas,” Nic whispered in a warning tone. “That’s the man who was at the palace with Lucia. He nearly killed Prince Magnus. Say nothing.”
“Let me handle him on my own, Kyan,” Lucia said.
Kyan kept staring at Jonas. “You’re wrong,” he said to Lucia, his eyes still on Jonas. “He doesn’t have the orb. I know I’d be able to feel its magic if it were really this close.”
“Perhaps not on him, but he did claim it,” Lucia pressed. “Where is it, Jonas?”
“No idea,” Jonas said evenly. “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
The young man narrowed his eyes, and in a sudden flash of light and heat, a ring of flames shot up from the ground, enclosing them in its circle. Jonas started and heard the crowd beyond the fire scream and scatter, abandoning the market.
Jonas shot a tense glance at his friends. “Olivia, tell me you can do something.”
Her eyes were wide and staring, filled with fear he’d never seen from this brave witch. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “Not now. Not here.”
“What are you talking about?” The heat from the flames grew ever more intense around Jonas.
“It—it’s too soon,” she said, clearly stunned and in a daze. “I’m not ready. I’m not strong enough.”
“Do what you can, then!” Jonas urged. “We’ll help!” He looked back to Kyan. “What are you?”
“You people keep asking me that. You weak, ignorant mortals. Born
with so much potential, yet you are always falling short, failing at every turn. Sickening.”
“Kyan . . .” Lucia said, an edge of warning in her voice.
“Except you, little sorceress. You’re completely exempt from the failings of the rest of your kind. You are a perfect specimen, an example of what humans should be. What they will be.”
Jonas glanced nervously at the flames, the hellish cage trapping them there with a sorceress and this man—someone far more dangerous than any simple magic-wielder.
Kyan took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Stay away from Jonas, you freak,” Lys snarled, stepping forward resolutely and fearlessly, then she gave Jonas a sidelong glance. “We can handle this, you and me. We’ve handled worse.”
Jonas’s heart swelled. He suddenly couldn’t take his gaze off her, this fierce, stunning warrior who’d stood by him every step of the way. This remarkable girl who’d told him she loved him.
But then his heavy heart ached when he thought of how he’d forgotten all about her the moment he’d seen Cleo, how he’d practically fallen at the golden princess’s feet as he’d begged for a kiss.
He’d been too blind to see that he’d already won the greatest treasure of all.
Jonas turned to face Kyan, staring him right in his amber eyes. “You heard Lys. Back off. I don’t have your orb, but if I did, I’d happily shove it right up your arse.”
Kyan regarded him with a chilling smile. “You’re either exceedingly brave or utterly stupid, boy.”
Jonas eyed Kyan and Lucia in turn. “Enough of this. Go play with your magic somewhere else. I can’t help you.” He sent a withering glare to Lucia. “And clearly you can’t help me either.”
Kyan continued to stare at Jonas so intently that he thought the man might be trying to read his mind. But then his expression slackened just a touch, and he frowned and cocked his head. “I do sense other magic here,” he said. “Undiluted elemental magic.”
Kyan snapped his gaze to Olivia and in the beat of a hawk’s wing, his amber eyes shifted to a vivid shade of blue. “Watcher.”
Olivia staggered back a step, shaking her head. “Stay away from me.”
“You dare to oppose me?” Flames rolled down Kyan’s arms, billowing with rage as bright as his eyes. “Did you really think you could conceal your true identity? What has Timotheus told you to do? Take me by surprise? Fool me? Trap me?”
Olivia turned to meet Jonas’s stunned gaze.
“Is that true?” he asked. “Are you a Watcher?”
“I’m so sorry, Jonas. I can’t . . .” Her voice trembled, she continued to shake her head. “Timotheus was wrong to send me.”
The circle of fire blazed brighter, rose higher, as tall as the oldest trees in Mytica.
“You wish to help your elder imprison me?” Kyan snarled. “You will fail, and I will gladly watch you burn.”
Jonas could barely think; the roaring heat was becoming too much to bear. “Olivia, tell me what’s going on!” he demanded. “Who is he?”
Olivia’s tawny complexion had grown dead and ashen. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’m not as strong as Phaedra was.”
Jonas was about to respond when suddenly the outline of Olivia’s form began to shimmer, and the air before her shifted. Her clothes dropped away, crumpling to the ground, and from them sprung a golden hawk, spreading its wings and flying up past the ring of fire, into the sky.
“Coward!” Kyan roared after her.
“Kyan,” Lucia said softly, placing her hands on his burning arm. “We need to leave. She’s gone, and the rebel doesn’t have the Kindred. We’ll keep looking.”
But he wasn’t listening, didn’t even look at her. Instead, Kyan pulled his gaze from the sky and sent Jonas a look so fierce that he staggered back a step.
Beside Jonas, Nic frantically scanned the circle of fire. “We have to get out of here,” he said.
Lys nodded, her expression grim. “There must be a way.”
“You’ve been assisting an immortal in her quest,” Kyan snarled at Jonas, pulling away from Lucia. “You wish to see me trapped again? Tortured by my eternal imprisonment so lowly mortals won’t need to fear my wrath?”
“I have no fight with you, whoever you are.” Jonas held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, feeling the heat of the fire grow more intense behind him. “Honestly. I didn’t know what she—”
“More lies!” Kyan thrust his hands out and, with a violent push, sent a blast of fire magic searing directly toward Jonas.
“No!” Lysandra screamed, and she shoved Jonas out of the way, knocking him to the ground. On her way down after him, she was struck in the heart by the spear of flames.
And then it disappeared.
She gasped and collapsed to her knees.
Jonas grabbed her, searching her for signs of damage. “Lys! Are you all right? Lys, please! Answer me!”
Her face was damp with perspiration, her breath coming in small, rattling gasps, but still she managed to grin up at him.
“You were in my way, you arse.”
A wave of both blind fury and pure relief overcame him, and Jonas smiled back at her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you, Lysandra Barbas?”
“What?” She blinked. “You love me?”
“Yes.”
“And what about Cleo?”
He grinned. “Cleo who?”
“Nicolo.” Lucia’s voice was quiet but firm as she interrupted the tender aftermath of Kyan’s rage. “Get Jonas away from her before it’s too late.”
Jonas glared up at her. “You and your friend need to leave. Now. Hear me? Come any closer and I swear I’ll kill both of you.”
All the fight that had been glimmering in Lucia’s eyes was gone, leaving only a sad, bleak expression. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I know you won’t believe me, but I’m sorry. Nicolo, do it now!”
Without a word, Nic grabbed Jonas and yanked him away from Lysandra.
Jonas tried to break free. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”
“Jonas?” Lys reached out toward him, a smile playing at her lips. “I love—”
Her sweet words were snapped into silence as a nest of flames burst up and blossomed from her chest, flowing over every inch of her body like lava.
“No!” Jonas shoved Nic away and scrambled to get to Lysandra, whose form had been transformed in an instant into a blazing column of amber fire.
The flames rose up and up, and with a violent lick they shifted from deep orange and amber to bright blue—the same shade as Kyan’s eyes.
The sound of Lysandra’s screams sliced through Jonas’s very soul, and in one heartbreaking instant, the flames themselves shattered like glass, sending shards of blue crystal flying and falling all around them.
Leaving nothing behind.
With a breathless wail, Jonas crumpled in a hard heap to the ground, staring at the empty space where Lysandra had been only moments ago.
He stayed like that, motionless, tears burning in his eyes, for some time, and he didn’t notice when the circle of fire disappeared, or watch as Lucia and Kyan left the abandoned market, leaving Jonas and Nic there all alone.
CHAPTER 19
FELIX
KRAESHIA
Felix woke up with the urgent knowledge that something was terribly wrong. If only he had any idea what it was.
He tried to ignore it, though, because life had never been better for him. He’d earned back King Gaius’s trust. He’d traveled beyond the shores of Mytica for the first time ever, to the beautiful empire of Kraeshia. And a gorgeous princess had invited him to share her bed for not one, but seven nights.
Seven. In a row.
Felix’s life had become so shiny and bright, so why did everything suddenly feel so damningly dark?
He crawled out of Princess Amara’s huge feather bed, draped with green silks and diaphanous veils of pale gold, and hastily got dressed.
His stomach grum
bled. Perhaps he could attribute this dark feeling to hunger—ever since his arrival in Kraeshia, he’d consumed too many fruits and vegetables and not nearly enough red meat.
“Felix, my pretty beast . . .” Amara said sleepily. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he sat on the side of the bed to put on his boots. “Leaving me so soon?”
“Duty calls.”
She slid her hands down his bare chest. “But I don’t want you to go yet.”
“The king might disagree.”
“Let him.” Amara pulled his face to hers and kissed him. “Who cares what the king thinks, anyway?”
“Well, me for one. I work for him. And he’s very strict.”
“Leave him and work for me.”
“And be what? One of your lowly manservants?” He was surprised by the amount of poison in his voice. Where had that come from?
He knew theirs wasn’t a relationship with any potential or future. Amara was a princess with a large appetite and a short attention span—nearly as short as his own. But of course he wasn’t complaining. Amara was beautiful. Willing. Enthusiastic. Double-jointed.
So what the hell was wrong with him today that he wasn’t thanking the goddess for his enviable current situation?
He cast a wary look at her as he stood up and her hands dropped away from his body.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “My pretty beast is grumpy this morning.”
He wasn’t sure he liked that nickname, but knew enough not to correct her. “You know I’m not the grumpy sort.”
Amara leaned back against the pillows and watched him put on yesterday’s shirt and coat. “Tell me,” she said, her tone less playful now, “what will happen if my father refuses the king’s offer?”
They hadn’t spoken a word about politics all week, which was fine with Felix. He wasn’t the king’s advisor or confidant, nor did he have any interest in being anything more than his muscle and brawn.
“Don’t know,” he said. “You think he’ll refuse?”
Amara raised an eyebrow. “Do I think my father will refuse to hand over half his empire for a shiny bauble and a threat of magic?”
When he’d watched King Gaius wave the air Kindred under the emperor’s nose, Felix had been certain the Silver Sea had risen up and crashed over him right there at the banquet. It had taken every last sliver of his strength to keep his expression neutral. “It does sound pretty crazy, doesn’t it?”