Crystal Storm
“No, I killed an immortal by stealing all of her magic.”
Jonas absently rubbed his chest. “Do you think I might learn how to do that? Steal magic?”
“That doesn’t sound like something I should teach someone who despises me. Besides, for all I know, that mark you showed me is the result of ink.”
“It’s not.” He looked down at his hands. “I don’t know . . . on the ship I was able to use the magic in me a little. Not much, but even now I feel it inside of me pressing outward. It’s like it’s trying to get out, but I don’t know how to release it—or if I even want to.”
“My own magic was difficult to grasp after it awakened within me. Perhaps you simply need to be patient.”
“Yes, of course, because there’s plenty of time to be patient with an empress and a god of fire to contend with. Brilliant suggestion, princess.” He stood up as the cart came to a halt. “We’ve arrived.”
Lucia tore her glare from the rebel to realize that she recognized the city they’d entered: Basilia. She scanned the busy streets and could smell the foul stench of Trader’s Harbor from here. “My brother and father are here?”
“They were the last time I saw them.” Jonas jumped down from the cart and offered Lucia his hand. She glanced at it with uncertainty. “Come now, princess, I haven’t brought you this far to let you fall on your face, especially not in your delicate condition.”
“I’m not delicate.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged but didn’t lower his hand.
Grudgingly, she put her hand in his and allowed him to help her down off the cart.
“Do you need a meal?” he asked. “There’s a tavern nearby where you can meet your blood sister, and I don’t think you’ve eaten today.”
The memory of Laelia only brought back unpleasant memories. “I’ve seen her before, and there’s no time for meals. I want to see my family.”
“Fine.” He frowned. “You didn’t tell me you already met Laelia.”
“How do you think I learned who I am?”
“I don’t know . . . magically?”
“Elementia can’t solve every problem, unfortunately. No, I went in search of the truth, and that search led me to Laelia. When she learned who I was, she asked for money—a great deal of coin to help her now that her father is dead and she’s afraid someone might recognize her as the daughter of the defeated chief. I’ll be fine if I never see her again.”
“Basilius was your father too.”
“I will never claim the chief as my father.”
“Yet you’re happy to claim the King of Blood as family.”
“Despite what you might think, Gaius Damora has been good to me in my life. He kept me safe and protected until I was stupid enough to run off on my own, thinking I was in love with a boy I’d known no more than a handful of days. Gaius had me taken from my cradle because of my prophecy. He could have kept me locked away. Instead, he raised me as a princess, as his daughter. I was given an education and a wonderful life in a home I adored.”
Jonas shook his head. “Huh, well, I guess I’ve been wrong about him all this time. King Gaius is a truly kind and wonderful person.”
“Very well, I’ll save my breath for a more useful conversation—like speaking with my father.”
“Fine. Let me deliver you to your perfect, loving family, and I can be done with this. I need to go back to the empress’s compound and search for my idiotic friends, who attract trouble to their lives like dirt to their shoes.”
Lucia followed Jonas down the street. She felt a pang in her gut for her sharp words. Jonas had helped her a great deal.
“I want you to know that I appreciate this. What you’ve done, bringing me here. I will ensure that no harm comes to you, despite all your horrible crimes.”
“Oh, goody. Thank you, princess. You’re a peach.”
Her back stiffened. “Or perhaps I won’t.” Just when she was beginning to soften toward the rebel, he had to make her angry again. She was about to dismiss him completely, when a wave of pain buckled her knees.
Jonas caught her arm. “Princess?”
“I’m fine,” she said, her teeth clenched. “Unhand me.”
“No.” When he lifted her up into his arms, she was too weak to try to stop him. “You are definitely a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”
“Just point me toward my family.”
“No thank you for not letting you drop like a sack of potatoes in the middle of the street? Fine then, they’re at the inn on the corner. I’ll take you the rest of the way. Now, how about you save both your energy and my ears by not talking?”
Lucia couldn’t speak anyway. The pain was too intense. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking deep, shaking breaths. She could bear it—she had to. As long as her child was safe, she could bear anything.
Jonas moved very quickly for someone carrying a pregnant woman. Lucia had to clutch his shoulders for safety when he entered the inn.
Ten paces from the front door, a woman was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor. She must have only just started, since there was blood everywhere.
“Let me down,” Lucia told Jonas, alarmed by the unexpected sight.
He did as she asked.
“What happened here?” she demanded.
The woman looked up, her eyes red and weary. “We’re not taking any guests today. Apologies, but you can go down the street. There are plenty of inns around here.”
“Whose blood is that?”
The woman just shook her head and concentrated on her task.
“Maria,” Jonas said, crouching down beside her. She looked up at him, recognition dawning in her eyes.
“Jonas, you’ve returned.” She smiled weakly. “I think you were the only one who bothered to learn my name.”
“How could I not learn the name of the woman who makes the best fig fritters I’ve ever had in my entire life?”
Tears spilled onto Maria’s cheeks. “It was horrible.”
“What happened?” Lucia demanded, her fists clenched. “Tell us, or I’ll—”
Jonas glared up at her. “You’ll do nothing to this woman. Do not come a single step closer.”
“Is this your wife, Jonas?” Maria asked warily.
“My . . . ?” Jonas let out a low chuckle. “No, she is most certainly not my wife.”
How dare this peasant woman think that she would become romantically entangled with someone like this cruel, rough rebel? “I am Lucia Eva Damora, and I swear on the goddess that if you do not tell me what happened here and where my family is, you will deeply regret it.” As soon as she said the words, she regretted them, and Jonas turned a look of pure fury on her.
“Lucia Damora,” Maria whispered, dropping her bloody cloth. “The sorceress. You’re here. Spare my husband, please, I beg of you.”
“Ignore Lucia,” Jonas growled. “Tell me what happened, Maria. I won’t let the princess harm you or your family in any way, I swear it.”
“Kraeshian soldiers . . . they came here, more than I’ve seen since they arrived in Basilia. There was a fight—a brief one. The king, the prince . . .” She shook her head. “It’s all too much.”
Jonas nodded at the floor. “Was anyone killed?”
“A young man with dark hair. He didn’t have much to do with me while you all stayed here. He tried to defend the Limerians but was slayed quickly. I believe his name was Milo.”
“And my father . . . my brother?” Lucia’s rage had been replaced by fear. She placed a trembling hand on her belly.
“Gone,” Maria whispered. “The soldiers took them. I don’t know where. The city is in upheaval. So many men have been murdered in the streets in recent nights, their throats cut and their bodies left there to rot. Some wonder if it’s on the empress’s orders, if we’ve somehow displeased her.”
br /> “What about Princess Cleiona?” Jonas asked. His voice held bottomless concern. “Where is she?”
“She left early this morning. I overheard her and the king having a vicious argument. He sent her away. The prince was displeased about that.”
“I’m sure he was,” Jonas muttered.
“Cleo was here?” Lucia asked, stunned.
“Where else would she be?”
“Dead by now, I’d hoped.”
Jonas gave her a dark look. “Just when I start to think you aren’t quite as vicious and disgusting as I thought you were, you say something like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re another male Cleo’s managed to seduce with her pretty hair and her helpless act. That would lower you in my regard even more.”
“I don’t give a damn what you think of me.” He took her tightly by her elbow. “We’re leaving. We’ve learned all the information we can here. Much gratitude, Maria. Stay safely inside until all this is over.”
“And when will that be?” the woman asked.
He shook his head. “I wish I knew for sure.”
Outside, Jonas walked quickly, practically dragging Lucia behind him. “We’re going to the tavern,” he gritted out. “We’ll be able to get more information there.”
“And what if someone recognizes me and I get the same reaction as I did from that woman?”
“I suggest not stupidly introducing yourself loudly by name, and we might be able to avoid that.”
“She hated me.”
“I’d think you’d be used to that by now.”
“I am, but . . .” It was suddenly difficult to breathe, the air so warm that Lucia had begun to perspire. “I need to stop a moment. I think I’m going to faint.”
Jonas groaned with exasperation. “We don’t have time for more dramatics.”
“I’m not being dramatic. It’s just so hot out here.”
“It’s not hot in the slightest today.”
“Do you find it hot, little sorceress?” a familiar voice said in her ear. “How strange. Paelsia is usually quite temperate on the western coast at this time of year.”
Lucia froze in place.
“Kyan,” she whispered.
Jonas whipped around to look at her. “Where?”
“I don’t know—I can’t see him. Can you hear him too?”
“Hear him? No. But you can?”
“Yes.” The voice was the same, but it seemed to come from inside her head. He had no form that she could see or sense, other than the sensation of heat enveloping her. Was he able to turn invisible?
“Is this your new traveling companion? He seems . . . lacking. So young, so inexperienced. What a pity that you and I had a falling out.”
Her heart pounded. “You wanted to kill me.”
“You promised me your help, and when the time came, you refused.”
“I won’t be a part of your dark plan.”
“Where is he?” Jonas turned around in a circle, his sword in hand.
“The boy is rather foolish, isn’t he? Does he think that little mortal weapon will have any effect on me?”
Lucia could barely catch her breath. All this time, she hadn’t known what had become of Kyan, despite having nightmares about him every night.
She had to calm herself. She couldn’t let him know that she was now terrified of him.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Where is he?” Jonas said again.
She glared at him. “He’s no more than a voice, currently. Lower your weapon; you look ridiculous waving that around at nothing.”
Jonas sheathed his sword. “Is it possible you’re imagining things? You could be delirious from the pain. Or are you trying to fool me?”
“No to both questions.” She tried to ignore the rebel, but he wasn’t making it easy for her.
Jonas fisted his hands as if ready to fight the air itself. “Kyan, if you can hear me, if you’re really here, I swear I will end you for what you did to Lysandra.”
Lucia felt a waft of hot air as Kyan laughed. “I almost forgot about that. Tell him that was her fault, not mine. She was far too eager for a taste of my magic that day.”
“You killed his friend,” she snapped. “I agree that he deserves to have vengeance for that.”
“Mortals and their silly need for vengeance. Death is a part of mortal life; nothing will change that for them. Yet I offered you immortality, little sorceress, as your reward for helping me.”
“Helping you to destroy the world, you mean.”
“This world deserves to be destroyed.”
“I disagree.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. I’m so close now, little sorceress, you have no idea. I don’t need your help after all; I’ve made other arrangements. Everything is aligning perfectly. It’s as if this was meant to be.”
The thought that Kyan had found another way to carry out his mission to destroy the world sickened her. But perhaps he was only bluffing. “So this is just a quick visit between old friends?” she asked.
“Perhaps.” The voice moved around her, and she staggered in a circle to keep the sound of it in front of her. She didn’t like the idea of having an invisible god of fire behind her. “You’re with child. Alexius’s, is it?”
Lucia said nothing to this. She’d hoped her condition had been concealed by her cloak.
“Mothers are known to be fighters when it comes to protecting their children. I will give you one more chance, little sorceress. I offer immortality to both you and your child. You will survive and help to build the next world at my side.”
“I thought you said you could do your evil without me.”
“It’s not evil. It’s destiny.”
“Destiny,” she murmured. “Yes, I believe in destiny, Kyan. I believe it was my destiny to possess this.”
Lucia pulled the amber orb out of her pocket and held it on the palm of her hand. She focused her thoughts and inhaled slowly. Her elementia had been easiest to access in the beginning when her emotions were elevated—hate and fear were the most useful to trigger her magic.
But now, even weakened, with Eva’s ring firmly on her finger, she could coax the beast out of its cage. The fine hairs on her arms raised, and she felt the combination of air, earth, water, and fire within her rise to the surface of her skin—a crackling sensation in her veins that ached to be free. Today, she didn’t wish to unleash it upon the world around her—she wished to feed it.
It hungered for stolen magic.
Just as she’d done with Melenia, she focused on the magic that existed in the very air before her, seeing it with a vision that went far beyond common sight. It was a red glow swirling around her, incorporeal, eternal. And, she sensed without any doubt, currently vulnerable.
Kyan’s very essence. Fire.
The orb began to glow, and Kyan made a choked, pained sound.
“What are you doing?”
“Seems Timotheus isn’t the only one you need to fear, is he?” she said.
Fire flared up in a circle around Lucia and Jonas. It was so hot and blazing that Lucia lost her concentration, and the sleeve of her cloak caught fire.
Was that Kyan’s magic, or had she done that?
Jonas smothered the flames with his cloak, putting them out as quickly as he could. They extinguished as quickly as they’d appeared, leaving a scorched black circle around them.
“Did it work?” he demanded. “You tried to trap him, right?”
Lucia nodded and inspected the amber orb. “I don’t know.”
Jonas peered at the crystal. “I don’t see the black swirly thing.”
“Your companion has such a way with words, little sorceress,” Kyan hissed. “Your magic is still formidable, but you failed.?
??
“Then I’ll try again.” Lucia gripped the orb and tried to summon her magic, but it had weakened too much already. “Damn it!”
“My, my, little sorceress. You are certainly not the innocent, grieving girl I met in her darkest hour, are you?”
“No, I’m the witch who’s going to be the end of you.”
“We’ll see. I believe you seek your father and brother? I suggest you travel as quickly as you can to get to them before the empress tears out both of their hearts.”
CHAPTER 27
AMARA
PAELSIA
“Fifty-three were killed in the rebel attack, empress, many of them trampled by the crowd.”
“Unfortunate.” Amara took a steady sip of her wine as Kurtis presented the day’s news to her. “Do they hate me now? These violent peasants?”
“No. Favor among Paelsians remains high for you.”
“Good.”
“Do you want the prisoners executed?” Kurtis asked as scratched at his bandages. “I would suggest a swift public beheading, as well as mounting the heads of the other dead rebels on spikes, to show everyone that such crimes won’t be tolerated.”
Amara raised a brow as she considered this. “Is that how you do public executions here?”
He nodded. “In Limeros it is, empress.”
“In Kraeshia, my father liked to have his prisoners tied to posts, publicly skinned alive, and left there until they stopped screaming. It usually didn’t take long. I’ve witnessed many of these executions in my life.”
Kurtis blanched. “That could be arranged if that is what pleases the empress.”
She glared at him. “No, that would not please the empress.”
The only thing that would please the empress would be for Kyan to finally return from his travels and give her further instructions on how to unleash the powerful being within her water Kindred.
While it was quite unfortunate, the lives of a handful of Paelsians ultimately didn’t matter. And a failed assassination attempt by a former lover didn’t matter either.
Only magic mattered.
Nerissa silently topped up Amara’s glass of wine.