“That Watcher must think quite highly of himself,” Kyan growled, pacing in front of the wheel. “But he won’t win.”
Intense heat emanated from Kyan as he paced, until the snow around them melted and they were surrounded by a field of flames.
Lucia stood by silently as Kyan ranted about Timotheus, but her patience was growing thin. She knew Kyan had a temper, of course, but ever since their visit to the Limerian palace, she found herself questioning her kinship with him.
How could it be that this omnipotent elemental god, one whom Melenia had lusted after for millennia, was about as mature as a toddler?
But no. He wasn’t omnipotent. If he were, he wouldn’t need her help.
“Are you finished with your tantrum?” she asked.
He glared at her, his eyes still glowing blue. “Nearly.”
“Good. Because this is growing wearisome.”
“Is that so? My quest to destroy my enemy and reunite with my family is growing wearisome for you, is it?”
“No. But all of this certainly is.” She indicated the burning field.
“I would have thought you’d enjoy a little something to warm you up on this cold day. My mistake.” Suddenly, his irises shifted back to amber and the flames surrounding them vanished. He raised an eyebrow. “Better? Be sure not to smile, little sorceress. It’ll ruin that stern look you’ve been practicing.”
“I’ve no intention of smiling. You know I’m still furious with you for what you did to Magnus.”
“Your brother disrespected me.”
“He doesn’t know who you are.”
“Exactly.”
“So instead of sparing him for his ignorance you decided to kill him?”
All the anger in Kyan’s expression faded away as he gave her a charming grin. “I wouldn’t say unleashing my rage upon him was a decision, exactly. Fire magic is who I am. What I am.”
She crossed her arms and began walking away from him. “That’s no excuse. Magnus is off-limits. If you harm him in any way, I won’t help you anymore.”
The fact that she’d willingly tortured Magnus with her magic until he’d spoken the truth didn’t sit well with her. Still, if he hadn’t resisted, she wouldn’t have had to inflict so much pain.
Causing Cleo pain, however, hadn’t troubled her at all.
Catching up with her, Kyan kept pace at her side. “Timotheus deserves to die.”
“Then he’ll die.” She shook her head. “I just don’t understand why you’re in such a rush to tear him out of the Sanctuary. You’ve only just awakened. And you’re just as much an immortal as he is.”
“I’ve waited an eternity to be free, little sorceress. Why should I have to wait another day to know it will be permanent?” He grasped her arm, slowing her down and stopping her. “I know you’re angry with me, and that’s the last thing I want. But I think I can redeem myself.”
“Really?” She eyed him skeptically. “How?”
“Let’s go find your real family.”
A breath caught in her chest. “Now?”
Kyan smiled. “You’re right, my vengeance can wait a few days. But you’ve waited sixteen years to learn who you really are.”
The witches who’d helped them find the wheels had also given up information about Lucia’s prophecy. They’d learned that the night Lucia was born, the stars had aligned, setting many witches out on a journey to Paelsia to find her. According to one witch’s rumor, two sisters with blood magic skills had succeeded.
One of those sisters was Sabina, the witch Lucia had killed many months ago in the Limerian palace when her powers were first awakening. If only she’d known enough to wait to crush Sabina’s skull and set her on fire until after she’d questioned the witch about her origins.
“All right, let’s go,” Lucia said now, eagerness rising in her chest. “We’re close to learning the truth. I can feel it.”
“Then it’s settled.” Kyan nodded. “Tomorrow we’ll set off for Paelsia.”
• • •
The second she closed her eyes to sleep she was haunted by the image of Magnus on the palace grounds.
His joy and relief as she approached.
His confusion when she didn’t immediately throw herself into his arms.
His uncertainty when she kissed him.
And his pain when she pulled the truth out of him, brutally and against his will.
This is who I am now, dear brother, she thought. This is who I was always meant to be.
With this affirmation, she was finally claimed by a sleep she prayed would be dreamless.
Unfortunately, her prayers were not answered.
In her dream, she stood in a meadow. But not any ordinary meadow. This was a meadow in the Sanctuary, the same one where she’d met Alexius, also in a dream.
Apples as shiny red as rubies hung from the surrounding trees, the sky was as bright as a sapphire, and the ever-brilliant sun shone down on the splendor all around her.
It was the last place she wanted to be.
A hawk circled high above her head, then descended and perched in a nearby tree.
It isn’t Alexius.
It can’t be.
Still, a small part of her heart had been holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, he could still visit her. When immortals ceased to be, their bodies returned to the elemental magic from which they’d been created. They didn’t leave behind a corpse unless they’d lived as a mortal for many years.
Was it possible he could still contact her through her dreams?
She approached the bird tentatively. “Alexius?”
The hawk cocked its head, then vanished before her eyes.
“I’m very sorry to say that no, I’m not Alexius.”
Lucia spun around. Standing before her in the meadow was a young man wearing white robes like those of a high priest. But most priests Lucia had ever known were old and wrinkled and ugly—not like this man, who was every bit as beautiful as Alexius had been.
“Beautiful, am I?” he said.
She gasped. “You can read minds.”
“Only in dreams. Like yours right now.”
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“I think you already know the answer to that question,” he said, walking a slow circle around her.
“Timotheus.”
He nodded, smiling slightly. “And you are Lucia Eva Damora, the princess of Limeros. The sorceress reborn. The king gave you Eva’s name. How predictable.”
So here he was, the creature who’d imprisoned Kyan and kept him apart from his family for countless centuries. A monster as cruel and evil as Melenia had been.
Her fists lit up with fire and she narrowed her eyes. “You made a mistake drawing me into this dream.”
“Oh, don’t insult me, child.” He flicked his wrist and her fire went out.
She looked down at her hands and, hiding her dismay, tried to reignite her fire magic. But she couldn’t even summon a spark.
“Let’s take care to understand each other from the beginning,” Timotheus said. “You have no power here. I am in control of this dream.”
“This is my dream. And I want to wake up.”
For a long silent moment, Timotheus said nothing, did nothing, except stand before her and watch her. Finally, in a calm, even tone, he spoke. “I never understood why Alexius was so smitten with you. So far you’ve done nothing to impress me. They say you’re as powerful as Eva? Even if you spent the next five centuries living and breathing nothing but elementia, you would only be a fraction as great as she was.”
She lunged forward, trying to hit him. If she couldn’t use her magic she’d happily use brute force. But when she swung her fist, she hit not Timotheus, but an invisible surface, solid and hard as rock.
She cried out as unimaginable pain shot up her arm.
“How dare you!” She reached for him, fighting against futility to try to scratch and claw at his face, but the invisible, magical barrier he’d manifested
prevented her from touching him.
“Stop acting like an infant.”
He flicked his wrist again, sending her flying backward and slamming, hard, into a rough, thick tree trunk and knocking the breath clean out of her lungs.
“Just let me go!” she gasped. “Let me wake up! I don’t want to be here with you. This meadow was for me and Alexius, and all you’re doing is destroying it.”
Timotheus stared down at her with his eyes like churning, molten gold, filling her with disgust. “Alexius gave up his immortality to be with you.”
“At Melenia’s request.”
“You make theirs sound like a friendly partnership. Melenia used him.”
“And he let her!”
“My, you’re stubborn. Fine. I won’t sully your memories of this imaginary location another moment.” Suddenly the air began to swim and shimmer, and the scene around them began to shift and change.
Lucia stood up and found herself in the ice gardens of the Limerian palace. Standing before her was Timotheus, wearing a black cloak, leather boots, and the same hateful expression she remembered from the meadow.
“Now that I’ve proved I’m in control here,” Timotheus said, “we can begin.”
“Begin what?” she snarled.
“What has the fire Kindred told you? What does he say he wants?”
“Fire Kindred?” She offered him a thin smile. “I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Does he think you can kill me?”
“Why would anyone want to kill you, Timotheus?” she asked. “I honestly can’t imagine that, given how kindly and respectfully you’ve treated me so far.”
“Has he told you what he plans to do after I’m dead?”
She inhaled deeply, ignoring her racing heart. “Your questions are meaningless to me and I’m not answering any of them.”
“You killed Melenia,” Timotheus said, not a trace of a question in his tone.
“Are you sure about that?”
He studied her, ignoring her deflections. “You drained her of her magic. Alexius taught you that trick. Very clever of him. It seems he had more control over his free will than I thought.”
“How do you . . . ?” But then she stopped herself, because she suddenly realized how Timotheus knew about that night in the temple. In this dream, he could read her mind, so he could also see memories. Could all Watchers do this? Had Alexius possessed this skill as well?
“No, he didn’t,” Timotheus said, answering her silent question. “Though he would have been considered ancient in your world, Alexius was one of the youngest of our kind. I, however, am not so young. I am one of the first immortals created to protect the Kindred and all that lies beyond the Sanctuary.”
“So was Melenia,” she said.
He nodded. “There were six of us in the beginning.”
“Now you’re the only one left.” She cocked her head. “So much for immortality.”
“We are immortal. Not indestructible.”
“Much gratitude for the reminder,” Lucia said, her chest aching as she thought once again of Alexius.
“Kyan misleads you. He doesn’t care for you. He’s manipulating you to get to me.”
“He’s not manipulating me. I agreed to help him.”
“So it seems that Lucia Damora is capable of speaking the truth.” He shook his head, then looked at her with what Lucia recognized as pity. “You are filled with so much anger and pain and grief. Yet instead of letting those emotions run through you and make you stronger, you choose to unleash them on the rest of the world so that others might feel your pain as well.”
“Are we done here?” Lucia snapped, trying her hardest not to think of anything truthful, lest Timotheus use it against her. “I’m getting very bored.”
“You think this armor you’ve created will protect you, but it’s only a distraction. Beneath it you’re still the same spoiled and selfish girl you’ve always been.”
Her mouth dropped open. If she could summon even a fraction of her magic, he would be engulfed in flames by now.
“Kyan’s right,” she snarled. “You are just like Melenia. And you deserve to be destroyed every bit as much as she did. Although, I suppose your death won’t come as a surprise to you, will it?”
“Do you think I was surprised by Melenia’s death, child?”
“Stop calling me ‘child,’” she said through gritted teeth.
“I saw her death,” he said, tapping his temple. “I saw it nearly seventeen years ago.”
“You ‘saw’ it?” She frowned. “You’re able to see the future, too?”
“On occasion.”
Lucia couldn’t wait to get away from this monster and return to Kyan, but now she found herself quite curious. The more she learned about him, the more power she’d have when they finally met in the flesh.
“Do all Watchers have prophetic abilities like yours?” she asked. “Melenia had my father believing she could see his future, and how powerful he’d become if he listened to her. However, she didn’t see her own fate.”
“Melenia didn’t possess the sight. If she had, she would have been a very different Watcher.”
“So you’re the lucky one, are you?”
“Lucky?” Again, he didn’t smile. His expression remained plaintive as he regarded her with those ancient golden eyes, set perfectly in his young golden face. “When Eva’s magic was stolen from her, I became the heir to her visions. So yes, I am the only one in the Sanctuary lucky enough to see all possible futures, to have them tearing through my mind constantly and unbidden.”
“Possible futures?” Lucia said.
His jaw tightened. “Choice, child. The freedom to choose makes all the difference. For instance, you have chosen to help the fire Kindred in his quest to destroy me. That choice determines both your fate and mine.”
“Have you seen it? My future?”
“I’ve seen enough of it.”
“Care to share any of what you’ve gleaned?”
“No.”
She felt her whole body tense up with fury. “Then I’m sure you’ve seen the day when Kyan and I finally find a wheel you haven’t tampered with.”
“Oh, child. You are in so deep you don’t even know you’re drowning. You’re right, I’ve sent my people out to slow you down. But not to stop you. Not to kill you.”
She inhaled sharply, perplexed by Timotheus’s confession and what it might mean if it were true.
“I’ve sent my people on other missions, too. Missions meant to change certain visions I find unacceptable or compromising to everything I’m here to protect. Mortals are so very fragile. They are foolish creatures who dance toward their own deaths with every idiotic decision they make. But that does not change the fact that every mortal life is precious. Some mortals simply require more protection than others.”
“Mortals like me?”
“No, not mortals like you. You—you and your new friend—you’re the ones from whom they’ll need to be protected. Remember one thing, child.”
“I told you to stop calling me ‘child,’” she hissed.
“Remember. All magic comes with a price. A price that is never revealed until after the damage has been done.”
“If I’m beyond saving, if I’ve already drowned, if I’m so dangerous that the entire mortal world is threatened by my very existence, then what is this, Timotheus? What do you want from me?”
He took one step closer, locking his serious gaze with hers. “I need you to wake up, you stupid girl.”
With a gasp, she sat up in her cot, her eyes wide open, staring wildly around at the dark, empty room.
“Thank you for introducing yourself to me, Timotheus,” she whispered.
Kyan was right—that Watcher needed to die.
CHAPTER 15
AMARA
KRAESHIA
Emperor Cortas kept the king waiting two full days before he agreed to receive him. The thought of how insulted King Gaiu
s must have been by that snub brought Amara quite a bit of amusement.
Amara’s grandmother had told her that the men were meeting for a private feast in the banquet hall. The princess hadn’t been invited, but that didn’t stop her from going.
As Amara breezed into the room, her head held high, she felt the disapproving gaze of Dastan. Due to his nearly exact resemblance to Ashur, Amara had been avoiding her eldest brother ever since his return from sea, and Dastan hadn’t gone out of his way to find her, either.
Elan, as always, stayed close to his father’s side, as if the emperor had developed an Elan-shaped tumor.
Seeing Amara, the emperor narrowed his pale eyes at her uninvited presence. But before he could say a word about it, King Gaius entered the room flanked by his bodyguards, both dressed as finely as any nobleman.
A smile parted the emperor’s lips, and his fine silk robes swished as he approached the king. “Ah, Gaius Damora. Finally, we’re able to meet.”
The king pressed his right hand against his heart and bowed shallowly from the waist—the traditional Kraeshian greeting. Amara was mildly impressed that he’d learned this custom. “Emperor Cortas, this is a pleasure beyond words. Your Jewel is just that . . . a precious treasure unlike any I’ve ever seen before. Stunning. I can see why it’s reputed to be the most beautiful place in the known world, without competition.”
“I hope it’s not too vain of me to agree with you.”
The emperor had prepared a table laden with Kraeshian delicacies. Vibrantly colorful fruits and vegetables grown right there in the Jewel, served with fresh kintha herbs and rich saffra oils. The Kraeshian diet eschewed all meat except for fish, and today there seemed to be no species unaccounted for—smoked salmus, red prawns, shelled lobrarus, to name but a few. An artful spread of sweets was arranged on a separate table, including indigo-berry tarts and sugar-cakes of the most intricate details and designs, and all nearly too beautiful to eat.
Amara watched the king with careful curiosity. Every gesture, every word, every sneaking glance. She had to admit his little act was quite convincing. If she didn’t already know what a conniving snake he was, she’d believe he was actually enjoying the company around him. His words were smooth, his demeanor charming and polite, and he was handsome and charismatic.