Livius turned a furious glare upon Magnus. “Who do you think you are?”
“No one,” he replied, casting a quick glance at the boy, younger than him by a year or two, his hand held to his pale face, pain in his dark eyes. Then he turned toward the man, looking down his nose at the unmannered barbarian. “Does it make you feel powerful to beat your son for the crime of speaking his mind?”
“He’s not my father,” the boy said.
“That’s right,” Livius said. “I’m the guardian to a little fool who tries to cross me daily. And I’ll reprimand him as I see fit.”
“You need him to help you make your living, don’t you?” Magnus nodded at the small canvas sack the man still held by its drawstrings. “Seems a poor way to treat someone you need.”
Livius narrowed his eyes, not answering, as Magnus crouched down to inspect the ground, picking up a handful of dirt and small stones.
“I suggest you move along,” Livius said, his voice low and dangerous, “before I lose my patience completely. You don’t want to see that.”
“No, I don’t.” Magnus tossed the handful of dirt directly into Livius’s eyes. The man howled in pain, his hands flying to his face.
Magnus grabbed the sack of coins a second after they hit the ground, feeling the satisfying weight of it in his hand.
The boy stared at him as if he’d just grown another head.
“Maddox!” Livius yelled. “Stop him!”
Magnus turned and ran out of the alleyway.
Chapter 3
Magnus ran as fast as the day he’d run after the horse that had gotten away from him during a hunt—a horse he had had to retrieve so as not to look even more pathetic and unworthy in front of his father’s friends. But it wasn’t fast enough.
He glanced over his shoulder to see that the boy, Maddox, was only a few paces behind.
“You need to stop!” Maddox yelled.
“And yet I choose to keep running.”
“Livius will kill you for stealing from him!”
“Not if he can’t catch me.”
But damned if he could find the tavern again. He needed to slow down and get his bearings, figure out which direction he’d taken through the city that seemed as large as Ravencrest, the capital of Limeros.
He staggered to a halt, scanning the streets, the horse-drawn carts laden down with passengers or cargo, and the lines of shops—everything from candle-makers to bakeries to inns along the cobblestone road.
He came to the sudden and horrible realization that he’d forgotten the name of the tavern. He strained to remember, knowing he’d seen the sign above the entrance.
How could he have forgotten something so important?
Maddox came to a stop, his face flushed, and Magnus gave him a dark look.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned.
Maddox glared back at him. “You need to give me that pouch.”
“I know you won’t believe me, but I need this money more than you or your unpleasant guardian do.” He cast a wary glance up at the sun, his only way of judging how much time he had to get back to Lord Gillis’s villa.
“You know nothing about who we are and what we might need,” Maddox said.
The boy had a point, but not one Magnus had any time to debate. “You’re right. I know only that your guardian beats you without hesitation or remorse.”
Maddox had no immediate rebuttal for this, but he had the grace to flush. “My mother . . . I send her my part of our fee. She needs the money to survive. Without it, I don’t know what will happen to her.”
“Really. And what fee did she get for letting that man take control of your life?”
Maddox’s expression tightened. “Clearly you have no idea how dangerous Livius is.”
“Clearly.” Magnus weighed the pouch of coins in his hand as he struggled to think of the name of the tavern where he’d met Kalum and Emil. “There’s a tavern nearby named after a . . . a chicken?”
It was something like that, he was certain of it.
Maddox shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not from here.”
Magnus hissed out a breath of frustration. “So I assume you also don’t know of a woman named . . .” Again he grappled for the information he knew he had, but this time it came to him swiftly. “Samara Balto.”
Maddox held out his hand. “Give me the pouch, and I’ll be happy to help you find her.”
He stared at the boy’s hand with deep skepticism. “I don’t trust you.”
“Says the thief.”
From farther down the street, past a woman with two young boys who’d just entered a bakery, Magnus spotted Livius swiftly approaching them.
Maddox was a pest, but Livius was a threat.
“Never mind,” Magnus said, not shifting his attention from Maddox’s guardian. “I’ll find it on my own.”
He turned on his heel and began running away from the pair. He needed to find the tavern, he needed to find the men he’d spoken to and trade this bag of stolen coins for information. Then he might have a chance to escape from this living nightmare.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have dismissed Bella quite as readily as he had. For all of her ignorance, she had been extremely willing to please.
Checking over his shoulder, his stomach lurched to see that Livius hadn’t given up the chase. Still, he had to be twice Magnus’s age, if not more. Then again, Magnus wasn’t used to running very often, especially not while being pursued. He couldn’t actually remember the last time, before today, he’d moved at more than a leisurely pace.
Thankfully, his legs didn’t fail him today.
Magnus zigzagged through the winding city streets, narrowly dodging other civilians, who glared at him as he shoved past them. He wouldn’t ask anyone here for help. It would only slow him down. Besides, what would he say? That he’d stolen a bag of coins from the man chasing after him?
An admission like that would surely send him directly to the nearest dungeon.
While everything inside of him wanted to continue to deny what had happened, he knew he couldn’t. Somehow, that witch had sent him back in time. And he knew without any doubt that if he failed to return to that statue of the goddess by sunset, he would be trapped here forever.
A nobody with no title, no home, no family . . . and no future.
He took a quick left at a crossroads and dashed in front of several men unloading heavy sacks from the back of a wagon.
“Stop that boy!” Livius yelled from an uncomfortably close distance behind him, but Magnus didn’t dare look. The men with the sacks glanced at him curiously, but they made no move to stop him.
Running like a common thief in an unfamiliar city. The experience was utterly foreign to Magnus, and he despised every moment of this hateful day.
That witch would pay with her life for this.
As much as Magnus also loathed his life at the palace, apart from spending time with Lucia, his days were dependable and predictable. He liked knowing where he was, who surrounded him, and what might be waiting around the next corner. And he liked knowing that his future as the next king was set. One day he would rule, and the power his father had would be his.
Here, there were no such guarantees.
Magnus reached a fork in the road. He hesitated for just a second—but it was a second too long. Livius grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him backward. Magnus tried to shove him away, but Livius took a handful of his hair—constantly overdue for a cut, as his sister was fond of reminding him—and dragged him off the street into an alley, away from any witnesses. Magnus dropped his cloak as he tried and failed to fight back.
“Get the pouch, Maddox,” Livius snarled. “Be swift about it; they’re right behind us.”
Magnus blinked. Who was right behind them?
Maddox was by his guardian’s
side in an instant. But just before he made a move to take the coins away from Magnus, someone shouted from the direction of the road.
“Livius! Trying to get away from us, are you?”
“Curse it,” Livius muttered. At the sound of the voice, he’d frozen in place while still keeping a painful grip on Magnus’s hair.
Three huge men loomed at the entrance to the alleyway, each seemingly larger than the last.
“Get away from you, Benito?” Livius raised his voice, sharing a quick—and, Magnus thought, worried—glance with Maddox. “Not at all. Didn’t even realize you were following me.”
“That’s good to know.” Benito, his thick arms folded over his thick chest, smiled a mouthful of sharp-looking teeth. “Figured you were trying to avoid us. Again.”
“No, no. Of course not.”
“Where’s our money?”
Livius finally let go of him, his attention on the men, and Magnus quickly tucked the pouch of coins down the front of his shirt.
Livius then sent a glare at Magnus. “Give me the pouch.”
Magnus spread his empty hands. “What pouch?”
Livius’s face reddened and his eyes blazed. “The pouch of coins, you imbecile.”
Magnus began backing away. “I don’t think I can assist. Perhaps you can find some other innocent civilian to rob today, sir. But I have no coin on me.”
“Trying to rob from children, Livius?” Benito asked drily. “Why am I not surprised?”
“The boy is a liar. He stole my money. Your money.”
“Did he.” Benito’s attention didn’t shift from Livius. “Even if that’s true, one hundred silver coins is only a fraction of your gambling debts. Twice now we’ve come to collect, warning you what would happen if you didn’t give us exactly what we need. Cena’s patience with you is running out.”
Livius’s face had turned a rather unpleasant shade of burgundy. “I’ll get the money. I’ll get every coin he lent me, I will! But I need more time.”
“How much more time?”
“I . . .” Livius sent a panic-tinged look toward Maddox. “I . . . I . . . don’t know, exactly. Not much time.”
“I . . . I . . . I . . .” Benito said mockingly, and his grin widened. “That’s an excellent suggestion, Livius. Perhaps that might be a suitable reminder of your outstanding debt to my employer. An eye . . . eye . . . eye.” He raised a thick brow. “And I’ll even let you choose: your left or your right?”
A glint of metal drew Magnus’s eyes to the dagger that Benito pulled from the sheath on his belt.
“Maddox,” Livius whispered. “Do something!”
“I—I don’t think I can,” Maddox said, his voice strained.
“Useless maggot. Do something!”
“I’m trying, really, but nothing’s happening.”
Benito shook his head. “How pathetic, Livius, asking a mere boy to save you from your own mistakes.” The man nodded at Maddox. “Take off, child. Meet up with your father later. I don’t believe that children should be witness to violence.” He shot a look at Magnus. “You too.”
“He has the money!” Livius screeched as Benito’s henchmen took hold of him.
“And he can keep it.” Benito flicked a hand at Magnus. “Go and enjoy your profits, little thief. Perhaps I’ll deal with you another day.”
Little? Magnus was nearly the man’s height—in fact, he’d grown several inches this year alone, making him nearly as tall as his father. How deeply offensive.
However, he chose not to say so aloud.
“Much gratitude,” Magnus said instead, nodding.
He slipped out of the alleyway and left Livius to his fate.
It wasn’t long before he realized that Maddox continued to trail after him. He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t blame me for this.”
“Livius is going to kill me.” Maddox didn’t say this with fear, more with weary acceptance. “He’s always promised me he would if I disappointed him enough.”
“Yes, well, then that’s an excellent reason for you to escape, now that you have the chance.”
“Escape?” Maddox stared at him as if he didn’t understand the word.
Magnus kept his pace swift as he moved away from the alley, scanning the street for the tavern he’d somehow managed to misplace. “Yes, escape. Leave hastily and without explanation. Go somewhere else, away from the person who torments you.”
Maddox rolled his eyes. “I know what escape means. Do you think it’s never crossed my mind before to do just that?”
“I don’t honestly care what your problems are or how you choose to deal with them. I’m on an extremely tight schedule today”—another quick glance at the sun confirmed it had lowered a fraction since his last check—“and, quite frankly, you are only an unwanted nuisance now. So . . .” Magnus flicked his hand at the boy. “Go away.”
A pained screech came from the alleyway behind them.
Magnus cringed.
I wonder if they chose his right or left eye? he thought.
Maddox continued to walk next to him, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face pale.
“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” Maddox said, shaking his head. “Your interference today is going to ruin everything.”
“How?” Magnus frowned. He didn’t know much about traveling through time thanks to wrinkled witches and enchanted statues, but meddling with history might indeed have dire consequences when it came to the future.
“Livius knows where my mother lives,” Maddox said. “He’ll kill her.”
“So go there and protect her.”
“You make it sound so simple. I can tell you’ve never had such difficulties in your life.”
“You can tell that, can you?” Magnus absently touched his scarred cheek. “What if I told you my father, the king, did this?”
Maddox’s gaze went to his cheek as if seeing the scar for the first time. “Your father did that to you?”
Magnus gritted his teeth. “Forget it.”
“Did you say your father is a king?”
“I did.”
“So that makes you, what? A prince?”
“Brilliant deduction.” Magnus then swore under his breath as something occurred to him. “I left my cloak in that alley.”
“Well,” Maddox said grandly, “a prince like you should easily be able to replace it with ten equally fine cloaks, don’t you think?”
“Forget it,” Magnus said, still searching for the damn tavern and currently his only lead to find Samara Balto and get the blade back. “Clearly you don’t believe me.”
“Apologies—I’ve never been face to face with such high royalty stealing bags of coins from nobodies. Prince of what, may I ask?”
Magnus looked at the boy defiantly. “Of a kingdom of ice and snow that I’ll rule one day.”
“Mm hmm.” Maddox nodded. “Sure you are.”
“This land is ruled by a living goddess, from what I’ve heard. I’m surprised you don’t believe anything is possible.”
Maddox frowned. “Why do you refer to her as a living goddess?”
“Because Valoria is nothing but a page out of history for me, and in my time, she’s long dead.”
“Dead? The goddess is immortal. You make no sense whatsoever.” Maddox just stared at him. “Perhaps you’re nothing but a blithering fool who speaks nothing but gibberish.”
“Is this why Livius enjoys beating you?” Magnus muttered. “For your stellar and engaging personality?”
A shadow crossed Maddox’s expression. “A beating is the least he’ll do to me after this.”
“Clearly, he needs you. Whatever you did in that inn seems valuable to him.” He probed his memory. “What exactly is it that you do?”
Maddox didn’t speak for a moment, the
n cast a defiant look at Magnus. “Well, prince of snow and ice, I have a fantastical secret of my own I’m sure you won’t believe: I am able to vanquish spirits.”
Magnus stared at him for a moment, speechless. “Spirits, as in . . . ghosts?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Maddox raised his chin and looked at Magnus with a challenge in his dark eyes. “I can trap a spirit in a silver object so that spirit can’t haunt innocent people anymore. Spirits are drawn to me. Don’t you believe me?”
“Sure, of course I believe you,” Magnus said drily. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Maddox’s eyes narrowed. “It’s true.”
Magnus sighed with impatience, but then something important occurred to him. “The witch boy Bella mentioned to me.”
Maddox’s eyes widened.
Magnus blinked. “Is that you? Are you the witch boy?”
“What if I am?”
“If you are, you can help me.”
“How? Are you experiencing a haunting in your icy kingdom?” Maddox narrowed his eyes. “I want that pouch of coins back.”
Frustration with this city, with this boy, with this quest, made Magnus want to start yelling and making demands. Demands he knew would go unanswered. “Steal your own pouch of coins. This is mine.” Magnus looked up at the sign above his head, reading it several times. The Bronze Rooster. Yes, that was it!
“Finally,” he said with a huge sigh of relief before he tensed up again. “Fine. If you’re not going to help me, then leave me alone. Go chase some of your spirits far away from me.”
Magnus pushed through the entrance, scanning the dark interior for the men he’d spoken to. They’d relocated to a table near the back of the tavern, two women now with them.
Magnus walked up to them and slammed the pouch of coins down on the table. “One hundred silver coins. Now give me back the obsidian blade.”
Emil looked up at him with surprise. “Well, look who’s back.”
“And with coin.” Kalum’s eyes were wholly fixed upon the pouch. He opened the strings to look inside, and his eyes widened. “Well done.”
The man placed the black shard on the table and pocketed the pouch.