Lightning forked through the sky behind her.
“Selia!” Cleo managed. “What are you doing here?”
“You know this woman? Who is she?” Amara demanded.
“This is Gaius Damora’s mother,” Cleo said, then gasped. “Olivia!”
Another woman trailed after Selia, a lovely one with dark skin and green eyes that darted around nervously.
“Cleo,” she said tightly. “I . . . I’m so sorry for this.”
“Sorry? Sorry for what?”
“The marks.” Olivia extended her arms to show that her skin bore painted black symbols.
“Yes,” Selia said, nodding. “Magical markings as old as time itself that will make even an immortal obey my command.”
“You are Gaius’s mother.” Amara’s thoughts spun. “And you are also the witch that Kyan summoned here.”
“I am. It is an honor of a lifetime for me to use my magic to assist the god of fire in the place of my granddaughter, who foolishly turned against him. For this ritual to release the magic of the Kindred, we require the blood of the sorceress and the blood of an immortal.”
“Selia,” Cleo began, frowning. “Why would you do this?”
“I am an Oldling, that’s why. We have worshipped the Kindred for countless generations, and today I will be the one who will help free them.”
“Them?” Amara cocked her head. “I have only the water Kindred.”
Selia smiled. “And I have earth and air.”
From her cloak, she pulled two small crystal orbs—one obsidian, the other moonstone.
Cleo gasped. “You—it was you!”
“Incredible.” Amara’s frustration and doubt dissipated like mist on the wind. “I admit that I had misgivings, but now I see that all is how it must be. After all my sacrifices, I will finally receive everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“You will?” Selia asked, her thin, dark brows rising. “Actually, this has nothing to do with you, little girl.”
Amara gestured toward her guards. “Take the orbs from her and bring them to me. Make sure she does only what she’s required to do. Restrain her, if you must.”
Before anyone could move, all twelve guards surrounding the pit clutched their throats. Amara watched with horror as the guards gasped for air and crumpled to the ground. Each one was dead.
“Kyan! Stop her!”
“What has begun cannot be stopped.” Warmth moved past her, brushing against her left ear. “You want to possess the magic of the Kindred to use for your own gain, the same as many before you have. But we belong to no one.”
Selia flicked her finger at Cleo, and the princess stumbled backward, falling into the pit. Amara raced to the side to look down to see that Taran had managed to catch her before she hit the bottom.
Amara turned toward the witch with shock. “You dare—?”
Selia flicked her finger again, and it felt as if a large and invisible hand had shoved her. Amara lost her footing and fell into the pit. As she slammed to the ground, her leg made a sickening crunching sound.
Felix looked down at her, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Oops,” he said. “I forgot to catch you. Did that hurt?”
Blinded by pain and unable to move, through tear-filled eyes Amara saw Selia at the edge of the pit, smiling down at all of them.
“Excellent,” Kyan said. “Now, let’s begin.”
CHAPTER 31
JONAS
PAELSIA
Lucia insisted that she and Jonas journey to the empress’s compound as quickly as possible. This meant on horseback, which Jonas knew, even before they started, was a bad idea for someone in the princess’s condition. To Lucia’s credit, she didn’t complain once as they rode southeast as fast as they could.
But then she came to a halt in the middle of a forest—or what had once been a forest. Jonas saw that all around him, the bushes and trees that had once grown tall and lush were now brown and withering. He glanced over at Lucia. Her skin was so pale, she looked no healthier than a five-day-old corpse.
“I can keep going,” she muttered.
“I don’t think so.”
“Don’t argue with me, rebel. My family—”
“Your family can bloody well wait.” He hopped off his horse and was at her side to catch her when she lost her grip on the reins and slid off.
The skies darkened in moments.
“Damn Paelsian storms,” Jonas grumbled, looking upward. “You never know when they’re coming.”
A loud roar of thunder was enough to frighten the horses. Before Jonas could do anything to stop them, they ran away.
“Figures,” he growled. “One bad thing leads to another.”
Lucia clutched his hand as he tried to put her on her feet. “Jonas . . .”
“What?”
“Oh, goddess, I think . . .” She cried out in pain. “I think it’s time.”
“Time?” He shook his head, regarding her with denial. “No, it’s not time for anything but finding ourselves other transportation.”
“The baby . . .”
“No, I repeat, you are not doing this now.”
“I don’t think I have a choice.”
He took her by her shoulders. “Look at me, princess. Look at me!”
Lucia raised her pained gaze to his.
“You’re not going to give birth now, because Timotheus visited my dream—just one, just long enough to tell me that he had a vision about me. I am with you when you die in childbirth. And I’m supposed to raise your son.”
She stared at him, her eyes widening. “He said that?”
“Yes.”
“You are going to raise my son?”
“Yes, apparently.”
“A Paelsian wine seller’s son is going to raise my child?”
Jonas was far too weary to care about the insult. “Didn’t you hear what I said about you dying?”
“I deserve to die for all I’ve done. While I certainly wouldn’t pick here and now, I knew it was coming. I accept that I have no choice.” Then she cried out again. “And you must accept your destiny, because I don’t think you’re going to have any choice either.”
He hissed out a breath. “I should leave you here, just turn my back on all of this. But I won’t.”
“Good.”
“Are you sure this is really happening now?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
Jonas picked her up and tried to find shelter in the barren forest before the skies opened. He pulled off his cloak and put it around her shoulders for more warmth.
“I don’t know what to do,” Lucia said.
“I learned one thing from my mother when I was a kid,” Jonas told her. “She helped other women when they gave birth in our village. She said that nature has a way of making it happen whether you know what you’re doing or not. Maybe you can do something to relieve the pain, though, with your earth magic?”
Lucia shook her head. “I’m drained. I’m weak. My magic is gone. Timotheus is right. I see now why he didn’t want to tell me about this. He had me believing that I could stop Kyan, but I see now that it must be you.” She pressed something into his hand, and he looked down to see that it was an orb of amber. “Kyan must be imprisoned again. You have magic within you, Jonas. It all makes sense to me now.” As she spoke, her voice grew weaker and weaker, until it was barely audible above the roaring of the storm. He struggled to find footing in the muddy ground as he crouched next to the princess.
“You think I can imprison something like him? You’re the prophesied sorceress.”
“Not for much longer, it seems. Jonas . . .” He had to draw closer to hear her whisper. “Tell my brother, my father . . . tell them that I’m sorry I hurt them. Tell them that I love them, that I know they loved me. And tell . . . tell my son
when he’s old enough to understand that there was good in me.” She smiled weakly. “Way down deep, anyway.”
Jonas had started to believe this too, so he didn’t try to argue with her.
“You will make a good father for my son,” she said. “You might not believe it now, but I see it. You’re strong and earnest and hardworking. You do what you think is right, even at great cost.”
“Don’t forget that I’m incredibly handsome.”
Her smile held. “That too.”
He shook his head, now wanting to argue. He wasn’t strong, he didn’t do what was right. He’d gotten so many friends killed because of his choices and plans.
Lucia took his hand in hers. Her skin was so cold, it shocked him. “You are destined for greatness, Jonas Agallon. I can see your destiny as clearly as Timotheus can.”
“You know,” Jonas said, pushing Lucia’s long, wet hair off her forehead. “I never believed in magic or destiny before a year ago.”
“And now?”
“I believe in magic. In evil sorceresses who deep down are really beautiful princesses. I believe in immortals who live in a different world than this one, accessible by magical stone wheels. But you know what I don’t believe in?”
“What?”
“I refuse to believe that we have absolutely no control over our own futures, because right now? I’m damn well going to control my own. I don’t want to be a father. Not yet, anyway.”
“But you must! My son is—”
“Your son will be fine. And so will you.” He squeezed her hand. “You said that Alexius taught you how to steal magic. So steal mine. Steal enough to heal yourself, to get through this birth without dying. Do it, and you can tell Timotheus to kiss your arse when it comes to proclaiming your future from his shiny little Sanctuary.”
Lucia stared at him, confusion naked in her gaze before it faded. “That isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”
“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “Don’t you like the thought of having a choice when it comes to your own fate?”
“I . . . I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Try,” he said. “Just try, and stop bloody well arguing with everything I have to say.”
Lucia’s expression of fear was replaced by fury. “You are so rude to me!”
“Good. Be mad at me—so mad you can steal the magic right out of me. You can slap me for being rude later. Do it, princess. Take my magic.”
Her forehead furrowed as she concentrated. This will work, Jonas thought. It has to work.
Then he felt it—a draining sensation that made him gasp aloud. It wasn’t pain, exactly. It felt like a magnetic force pulling at his insides.
His heartbeat began to slow, and spots appeared before his eyes.
“Do me a favor,” he managed.
“What?” she asked, and he noticed that her voice already sounded stronger, just as he began to feel weaker and colder.
“Try . . . not to . . . kill me . . .”
• • •
Only when he woke up, rain still drenching him, did Jonas realize that he’d passed out. His wet cloak had been thrown over him like a blanket, and he slowly, very slowly, pushed himself up to sit.
“Do storms usually last this long here?” asked Lucia.
Jonas looked over at her. She was holding a small bundle in her arms. “Baby,” he said. “That—that’s a baby right there.”
“It is.” She tipped the bundle enough that he could see a small pink face looking out at him.
“Definitely a baby,” he said, nodding. “You’re alive.”
“Thanks to you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am, Jonas. Your sacrifice saved my life.”
“Sacrifice?” he repeated. “Not a sacrifice at all. I never wanted magic to start with.”
“Well, I didn’t take all your magic. As you requested, I didn’t want to kill you just yet. After all, you promised that I could slap you when I felt better.” She smiled. “I look forward to that.”
He tried not to laugh. “As do I.”
“It seems Timotheus was wrong about many things,” Lucia said. “And that destiny isn’t set after all, just as you said.”
“Many things? What else was he wrong about?”
“My son,” she kissed the baby’s forehead, “is actually my daughter.”
“A girl?” Jonas couldn’t help but grin at that. “Nicely done, princess.”
“Please, call me Lucia. I think you’ve earned that right.”
“All right. Now what do we do, Lucia?” he asked.
“She has a name. Do you want to hear it?”
He nodded.
“I’ve named her Lyssa,” she said, looking up at him. “After a brave girl named Lysandra I wish I’d had the chance to know.”
Jonas’s eyes began to sting. “An excellent name. I approve,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “All right, then. Before you lay waste to the rest of Paelsia, let’s find you and Lyssa a nice, dry inn so you can regain the rest of your strength, shall we?”
CHAPTER 32
CLEO
PAELSIA
Cleo took in the faces that surrounded her in the rocky pit, her heart beating out of her chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t sure how she meant to stop Amara, to take the Kindred and save everyone, but this wasn’t it.
“Fear not, little queen, I am with you.”
Her breath caught. Somehow Kyan still thought that they were together in this. But why would he need her now? She’d never felt as helpless in her entire life as she did at this moment, even surrounded by strong young men who were normally more than capable of protecting her from harm.
Except Magnus. Her gut twisted. Where was he? Imprisoned somewhere else? But where?
Cleo watched as Selia slowly levitated herself into the pit as if standing on an invisible platform of air magic. She prayed that Felix, Taran, and Enzo weren’t foolish enough to try to attack the witch. Cleo had no doubt they would fail quickly.
Thankfully, they didn’t budge from where they stood.
“How long have you been planning this, Mother?” King Gaius asked from his seated position. He hadn’t moved an inch since Cleo and Amara had been cast into the pit.
“A very long time, my son,” Selia replied, her fingers brushing against her snake pendant. “My entire life, it seems.”
“You were the one to teach me about the Kindred, to drive my passion to find the crystals.”
“Yes. And you took to this promise of power just as I knew you would.”
“But you didn’t tell me everything.”
She met his gaze. “No. It had to remain my secret until now.”
He nodded. “When I was younger I thought you simply wanted the magic of the Kindred, like anyone else who’d heard their legend. But it’s always been more than that, hasn’t it? You wanted to help free them.”
She crouched down at his side and put her hand to his cheek. “I wasn’t lying to you. You will rule the world, only differently than I had originally planned. The fire god is in need of a new corporeal vessel. I believe that only you are great enough, worthy enough, to have that omnipotent power within you.”
Before the king could respond, Cleo felt a draft of warm air slide past her.
“No, little witch,” Kyan said. “This fallen king won’t do at all. He’s too old. Too sick.”
“Who just said that?” Nic asked, staring around the pit.
Cleo’s wide eyes glanced over to him. “You can hear him too?”
Nic nodded.
“I hear him too,” Taran said, scanning the pit. Felix and Enzo stood on either side of him, their expressions tense, but they also nodded in agreement.
“That is only because I allow it,” Kyan said. “Like the little empress’s brother said earl
ier, there’s no reason to hide any longer.”
“Gaius is improving, Kyan,” Selia assured him. “He was horribly injured, near death. It will take more time to fully heal, but he’s well on his way.”
“No. I wish for a different vessel.”
“Of course.” Selia’s brows furrowed, the only sign of her disappointment as she glanced around at the others. “What about the Kraeshian here, Prince Ashur? Young, handsome, strong.”
“Again, no. I need someone already possessed by a soul of fire.” There was silence for a moment as the sensation of heat moved around the circumference of the pit. “This one. Yes, this one is perfect. I sense greatness within, greatness shielded from the world.”
Who? Cleo thought frantically. There was no way to tell to whom the fire god referred.
“Then let’s begin,” Selia said.
The witch held her hand out, and the three crystal orbs Amara had hidden in the pockets of her robes flew across the pit and into Selia’s hands.
Cleo watched tensely as she placed the aquamarine, obsidian, and moonstone orbs gently in the center of the pit. “Where is the amber crystal?” Selia asked.
“It’s not here,” Kyan said.
“Where is it?”
“I am already free from my prison; there is no need for it now. The ritual must work without it. Proceed.”
Selia yanked the silver chain from around her neck, and Cleo realized with shock that the large snake pendant she wore wasn’t simply jewelry—it was a vial with a small stopper.
The witch tipped the silver vial over the three crystals to drip dark red liquid onto them. With each drop, the orbs brightened, glowing from within.
“You have Lucia’s blood,” the king said, his voice hoarse. “How?”
She raised a brow. “I bled her when she was a child, before my exile. It only took the barest trace of earth magic to keep it fresh all this time.” Selia looked at Olivia. “Come here and hold out your arm.”
Olivia moved toward Selia and did exactly as commanded. The witch produced a dagger and cut Olivia’s arm. When the immortal’s blood joined Lucia’s upon the orbs, they each flared brighter than before.