She fixed him with a cool smile. “And I know how dangerous it is to have thoughts like these.”
“Melenia . . .”
“Say nothing more. I need you to regain your objectivity and your devotion to me and my cause. The princess’s life will be sacrificed for the sake of the Kindred. Their magic is all that matters.”
“I need to talk to her.” The words stuck in his throat.
“No, you don’t.” Her grip on him tightened and he couldn’t pull away. He felt a draining sensation spreading through him. She was draining his magic, his ability to shift form, to enter the dreams of mortals. To do anything but breathe and exist.
It would be all it took to keep him away from Lucia.
There was a reason why Melenia was the most powerful immortal of them all. She could do this.
“Not all love is eternal,” she whispered to him as he weakened and fell to his knees before her. “Not all love has the power to change worlds. What you feel for the princess is a passing fancy, that is all. Trust me, Alexius. I’m only doing this to help you.”
He’d promised Lucia he would come to her in her dreams. He’d come here to try to find a way to save her life.
On both tasks he’d failed.
Yet he knew that Melenia spoke the truth, that he was thinking irrationally and was in danger of becoming a liability to her plans. The life of one sixteen-year-old sorceress was not worth the destruction of everything and everyone.
Lucia would have to die. And one day very soon, he would be the one to take her life.
There was no turning back.
CHAPTER 22
LUCIA
AURANOS
“Is my magic evil?”
It was the first thing Lucia asked when her father had come to visit her bedside before he left for the wedding. She needed to know the truth, and her father was well known for his candor. Magnus would easily lie to protect her feelings. Perhaps he already had. And Alexius—did she really believe anything he’d told her? Had he even been real? Now that she was awake, she’d begun to doubt what she’d seen. What she’d felt. The thought that he might only have been a dream was now a heavy weight that lay on her chest.
“No, it’s not evil,” the king replied, kneeling beside her bed and grasping her hands tightly in his. He smiled brighter than she’d seen in ages. “It’s incredible. It’s wonderful. You are a sorceress, Lucia. A beautiful and powerful sorceress. You’ve been blessed by the goddess with a great gift.”
His words were so sincere they brought tears to her eyes. “No, it’s a curse. Mother believed so.”
“She was wrong. Your mother was wrong about many things. If anything, your elementia will be a challenge to you, but one you shall easily master. I have a new tutor at the ready. She and I have been waiting for you to wake up. She will visit you later today to begin your lessons.” He stood so he could lean over and kiss her forehead. “Know this: I am so lucky to be able to call you daughter. I would not feel this way if I had any doubts about you, Lucia. I have none at all.”
Tears burned in her eyes at his beautiful words.
“To wield this power is your destiny. One cannot avoid their destiny. One shouldn’t even try, since it will only bring pain. Embracing it is the only sound answer—the only answer that will give you peace.”
There were times when she’d had misgivings about her father, especially his tendency toward cruelty. She’d seen how he’d treated the citizens of Limeros, servants, and even Magnus himself over the years. She was well aware of his wider reputation.
But to her recollection, he’d never been cruel to her. Only kind. Only encouraging.
“Thank you, Father.” She sat up, ignoring the dizziness that came from such a sudden movement, and embraced him. He was the strength she needed today.
“Of course, my child.” He patted her cheek. “Now, I must make the journey to the temple. I only wish you could be there today, but it’s best that you rest.”
The temple. The wedding. “Father . . . Magnus doesn’t want to marry the princess.”
“But he will. Despite any initial protests, Magnus always does exactly what I tell him to do.” He studied her face. “In part, I did this for you, you know.”
She frowned. “For me?”
“I know how Magnus feels about you.”
Shame swelled inside her and her cheeks warmed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You needn’t say anything. It’s not your fault. It’s his. It’s a shameful weakness on his part that he can’t seem to control—and I can’t allow it to continue.”
“And you think forcing him into a marriage with Princess Cleiona will make him feel differently?”
“If nothing else, it’ll be a distraction. And they’ll be leaving at first light for their wedding tour, which will give you the time to fully focus on your magic and not worry about your brother’s unrequited love.” He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t share Magnus’s feelings, do you? While I don’t approve of the desire he harbors for you, if you felt the same for him—that would change everything.”
Her face heated even more. “No, I don’t. And I never will. The way he looks at me . . . I wish I knew what to say to him—to make him forget such unwelcome thoughts.”
The king turned his head slightly. “You know how I feel about eavesdroppers, my son.”
Lucia was confused by his words until she looked past the king to see that Magnus stood in the doorway to the room. Her heart sank. How much had he heard?
“Apologies, Father. I only came to say farewell to my sister.” Magnus’s flat gaze moved to her.
“Magnus . . .” she began, but he turned and left without another word.
The king’s attention returned to Lucia as she settled back down upon her pillows, her stomach now a hard, twisted knot. She’d hurt Magnus with her unthinking words.
She seemed to always be hurting him.
“It’s for the best,” the king said. “Everything turns out the way it was meant to in the end.”
“Of course,” she whispered.
When he left for the wedding, Lucia was all alone with her thoughts and regrets until the elementia tutor arrived much later.
Her name was Domitia, a witch who lived in a village a few hours from the City of Gold. She had a bright smile, long, straw-colored hair, and fine lines around her green eyes. She coaxed Lucia out of the bed slowly, and soon the dizziness faded and strength returned. The sleeping potion had finally left her system, the weariness dissipated, and Lucia felt ready to learn more about her magic from a knowledgeable tutor.
“I’m so pleased to be able to assist you!” Domitia said—no, gushed. “The king was very wise in choosing me.”
If the king did not find a specific use for a woman accused of witchcraft—be it in Limeros, or now here in Auranos—she faced a death sentence. Domitia quickly explained that she’d been captured in a recent sweep by guards, based on local rumors about her talents. Luckily for her, the king was searching for a suitable elementia tutor for his daughter and had freed her from the dungeons.
No wonder the woman’s demeanor was so cloyingly chipper.
“Let’s start with something simple, shall we?” Domitia said. “I’d like you to concentrate on these candles and light them one by one. I’ve been told you have a strong hold on fire magic.”
The witch had lined up ten candles of differing heights and thicknesses on a nearby table.
“You could say that.”
The witch had no idea Lucia was a prophesied sorceress. For all she knew, the king’s daughter was just another common witch saved from the dungeons only by her royal status.
“I can do fire magic myself. Allow me to demonstrate.” The witch’s forehead wrinkled as she studied the bare wicks of the candles. It was an amusing sight as she strained, her face scrunching with effort as if she was
seated upon a chamber pot.
Lucia kept watching. One of the wicks began to glow. The witch’s breath came quicker and a thin layer of perspiration appeared on her forehead. Finally, a small flame danced upon the first candle.
Domitia exhaled shakily. “See? It can be done.”
“Very impressive,” Lucia said, even though a prickly impatience had now taken seed beneath her skin.
The witch nodded to acknowledge the magnitude of what she’d done. “It’s your turn, princess.”
Lucia’s gaze lingered on the unlit candles. “Do you know anything about prophecies, Domitia?”
“Prophecies, your grace?”
“Those pertaining to elementia.”
Domitia pursed her lips as her expression grew thoughtful. “Of course, there are many rumors of such things. It’s difficult to piece together what is real from what is false.”
Lucia had to determine if this woman was of any true worth to her. Alexius was gone, and while she hoped he would soon visit her dreams as he’d promised, she had to look for other answers. She required a skilled guide with knowledge of what she was and what she could do.
“Would you say you’re more accomplished than the average witch?”
Domitia brightened at the question. “Oh, yes, your grace! I have the ability to access not only fire magic, but some water as well. These elements are complete opposites that often cancel each other out. They rarely appear within the same witch. I am very blessed to have this ability.”
“Show me your water magic,” Lucia said.
The witch wiped the sweat from her brow and moved across the room to get a goblet, which she filled with water from a nearby pitcher. She brought it back and placed it down on the table next to the lit candle.
“Watch,” she said, again scrunching her face as she studied the water.
Lucia observed over the witch’s shoulder to see, after a time, the water slowly begin to swirl. She waited, but the witch gave her a triumphant glance.
“Disappointing.”
The witch looked at her with shock. “Disappointing? My magic has taken me years to master to this level.”
“Your mastery is questionable.” Lucia sighed. “I’m afraid, from what I’ve seen here, you don’t know nearly enough to be able to help me. But I do appreciate your visit.”
Alarm lit in the woman’s gaze much quicker than she could light a candle. “Apologies, your grace, that I’ve disappointed you. I want to help you as much as I can. It’s all I care about.”
“Of course it is,” Lucia murmured. “You must know my father’s penchant for ending the lives of accused witches who serve no purpose to him.”
“And yet his own daughter is one.” Domitia’s cheeks then began to flame. “Oh—apologies again. I don’t mean any offense. Please forgive me!”
Was this the sort of power her father favored so much? The ability to incite fear in someone by uttering a few simple words? Lucia was disturbed to realize it was a curiously pleasant sensation.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” Lucia said more gently.
Domitia wrung her hands. “I—I’m not. Of course, I’ve heard troubling stories about the king, and the prince as well, but I’ve been assured that you are kind and gracious. A true princess in every sense of the word.”
“I certainly have tried to be in the past.” Lucia trailed her fingers over the table the practice candles were set upon. “But lately, I must admit, I’ve become increasingly worried.”
“Worried, your grace?”
Oh—how was she to put into words how she felt? It was difficult to wrap her mind around it fully, but she couldn’t ignore the truth of it. “I have something within me that . . . hungers. I can only explain it as a caged beast. I didn’t feel it when I was asleep, but now that I’m awake I find it impossible to ignore.”
“I don’t understand, princess. A beast within you? What does this mean?”
“They tell me it’s not evil. It doesn’t feel evil, really. But there is a darkness taking hold,” Lucia said, and as she spoke she realized just how true her words were, “as if the night itself wraps me in an embrace that grows tighter every moment.”
Domitia’s gaze filled with understanding. She nodded. “What you’re feeling is perfectly normal for one able to harness any part of elementia. But don’t worry. Without blood sacrifice, our powers can’t be any more destructive than what I’ve shown you here today.” She leaned over to blow out the candle she’d lit earlier. “Now it’s your turn. Try to light this candle and we’ll take it from there. All right?”
The dark beast within her rolled over at Domitia’s dismissal of her previous words of warning. For that was what they were—a warning.
“Certainly,” Lucia said.
All ten wicks caught fire at once, the flames rising high into the air to lick the ceiling. The witch gasped and staggered back, drawing a shaking hand to her mouth.
“But—but, princess. I’ve never seen anything like this!”
Lucia couldn’t help but smile at the terrified confusion on the woman’s face. “No, I don’t suppose you have.”
Domitia’s wide eyes reflected the flickering fire. “And you do this with no effort at all. . . . Incredible . . .”
“Oh, there’s effort, I assure you. It’s a muscle inside me that begs to be flexed. Answer me this question. It’s a question I’ve posed to several people so far, yet my dead mother’s opinion still lingers as if her ghost now haunts me. Is this magic I wield evil?”
“Evil?” Domitia repeated, her voice shaking. “I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.” Lucia thrust her hands out toward the witch, summoning air magic. It wrapped itself around the woman and slammed her up and back against the wall, pinning her there like a butterfly on a board.
Domitia gasped. “What are you doing?”
It was an excellent question. What was Lucia doing?
Whatever it was . . . it felt good.
The fire blazed behind her—so hot that sweat dripped down her back. Too hot. She needed something cold to balance it. Fire and water were opposites. The witch herself had said they often canceled each other out.
Lucia wanted to know if this was true. She glanced at the goblet of water the witch had used. A focused thought drew the water from its container, and it traveled through the air until level with where Lucia stood.
She studied it, cocking her head, and she thought of home. Of Limeros.
The water froze in the air, forming itself into the shape of a spear.
The witch yelped as the sharp piece of ice moved closer to her, close enough to touch her throat. The dark beast within Lucia approved of this. It had a great thirst for fresh blood now that it had finally awoken.
“I will have to tell my father when he returns from my brother’s wedding how disappointed I am in his poor choice of tutor.”
“Princess, please!” Domitia shrieked. “I will do anything you ask of me! Please don’t hurt me!”
The words were hollow in Lucia’s ears. Instead, she focused on the spear of ice, pressing it close enough to break the witch’s skin. A bright line of red blood spilled down her throat. The sight of it fascinated Lucia. How much blood could be spilled before the woman perished? And would this blood sacrifice help increase Lucia’s power even more?
A rumble sounded loud all around her and the floor began to shake. Lucia lost her footing and fell hard to the ground, bruising her shoulder. The spear of ice fell and shattered.
“What is this?” Lucia managed. “What’s happening?”
The candles fell off the table, their flames extinguishing before they landed on the floor. Lucia’s gaze whipped toward the witch, who held her hand to her injured throat and stared at the princess with fear as the earthquake finally came to a stop.
Lucia’s heart leapt into h
er throat as the beast within her withdrew into its dark cave.
Goddess, what had she been thinking? She’d nearly killed this poor woman!
Domitia’s voice trembled. “What are you?”
Lucia forced herself to look the witch directly in her eyes. “You will say nothing of what happened here if you value your life.”
“Princess—”
“Leave me!”
She didn’t have to say it again. Domitia fled the room without further argument.
Lucia’s heart pounded loud as thunder in her ears.
This is what my mother meant. She was right and everyone else was wrong.
She felt the truth in the thought. And what scared her more than anything else that had happened today was that a small part of her didn’t care.
A glimpse of golden feathers caught her eye as a hawk took flight from her balcony.
“Alexius! Come back!” She raced to the marble railing to see the hawk soar high into the blue sky until it disappeared from sight.
The sliver of hope that had briefly caught fire in her chest turned to bitter ash.
CHAPTER 23
CLEO
AURANOS
“It’s remarkable, really,” the king said loud enough for all to hear. He stood before the guests at the evening wedding banquet he’d insisted go on as scheduled at the palace, despite the carnage they’d left behind at the temple. “This young girl next to me had enough courage to say she wanted to continue with the ceremony and marry my son, not only in the face of a violent and horrific attack by insurgents, but after the world itself had been rocked beneath her feet. Tonight we shall mourn those we lost, but also celebrate together, victorious.”
Cleo wore a blood-free gown. Her hair had been neatened, her face washed. She sat stiffly between Magnus and his father on the dais and twisted her amethyst ring until it would surely leave a groove in her finger. The guests, she noted when she looked up from her golden plate that bore food she couldn’t stomach, looked every bit as stunned by the day’s events as Cleo did. Five of their fellow wedding guests had been killed by the collapsing temple before the rest had escaped outside.