But before Cleo could finish her sentence Nerissa slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
“Well, your highness. After a small eternity it seems we’re finally alone again.”
Cleo spun on her heels, eyes wide, and found herself face-to-face with Jonas. The rebel was no longer wearing his ridiculous eye patch today, which was a relief—especially since, when she’d first seen him, she’d thought he’d had a horrible accident. Or that Magnus had done it to him.
Cleo met Jonas’s greeting with stunned silence, and then his pleased expression turned tentative. “I’m sorry for the manner in which I arrived. It was not my intention to implicate you . . . for that I want to kick myself. Trust me, Lys has promised to throttle me at her earliest opportunity for nearly getting us all killed. I was stupid and irresponsible, but I assure you that I—”
Cleo ran across the room and threw herself into his arms. “I was so worried about you!”
“Oh.” He stiffened, then gave a little laugh and pulled her closer. “And here I was expecting a painful slap. I like this much better.”
“Why did you come here? You must have known how much danger you’d be putting yourself in.”
“Why?” He brushed her hair back from her face. “To save you, of course. And to kill the prince. In that order.”
“I don’t need to be saved.”
“Yes, well, how was I supposed to know that? You disappeared from Auranos. You could have been dead for all I knew. You didn’t send me any messages to let me know you were safe.”
“And where should I have sent them? To some tree house in the Wildlands? Or should I have sent them through Nerissa and put her in further danger?”
“If there’s anyone who can handle herself, it’s Nerissa.”
“So can I.”
“Yes, I see that now. It seems you’ve managed to tame the darkest of beasts.” He tried to smile, but Cleo saw that his expression was strained. “And here I thought you loathed each other.”
“We do. I do.” Enough of this, she didn’t have much time with him, and she wanted to spend it discussing more important matters. “Jonas, I know you received my most recent message. The instructions to go to the Temple of Cleiona . . .”
“I did. And I followed them, exactly. In fact, we were still there when you and your entourage arrived.”
“You . . . what?”
That mischievous look had reappeared, and his grin seemed much less strained than before. “I know it was risky to stay behind, but I couldn’t resist the chance to see the disappointment on the prince’s face when he realized someone had gotten there before him to claim the earth Kindred. Priceless.”
A wave of relief fluttered in her chest, and she ignored the dig against Magnus. “So you have it.”
“Oh, yes.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an obsidian orb small enough to sit on his palm.
Somehow, she’d forgotten how to breathe. “That’s it,” she managed to get out. She reached for the orb with a trembling hand. “The earth Kindred! It’s real!”
“And it’s yours.” He took her hand and placed the crystal in her palm. “I’ve been keeping it safe for you. And warm. So warm I thought it might hatch.”
This reality was more than she could have hoped for—more than she was letting herself hope for. The earth Kindred, right here, endless earth magic at her fingertips. With this in her possession, she could easily take her throne back. She felt the tingle of magic run up her arm as she stared at its glossy surface, and she was certain she saw an ebony shadow swirling within the orb.
She was breathless. “Jonas. . . . Thank you. I promise to reward you handsomely when this is all over—you’ll have riches beyond your wildest dreams. And what about the air and fire Kindred? Did you claim them, too?”
“Well, princess, we did travel to both of the locations you described, drew the symbols on the ground in blood just like you said . . . but it didn’t work. Not like it did with the earth Kindred. This is the only one I have. I’m sorry.”
“No, Jonas, please don’t be sorry. Finding just one is miracle enough. This is wonderful.” She squeezed the orb, finding that the mere weight of it in her palm gave her strength. “Now, how does it work?”
Jonas’s brow wrinkled up with uncertainty. “I have absolutely no idea. You had such clear instructions for how to find it . . . don’t you know how to use it, as well?”
She stared at him for several stunned moments, then started to laugh. “I have absolutely no idea either!”
“That is unfortunate. I was completely prepared for you to transform into an all-powerful earth goddess tonight and vanquish us all.”
Though Cleo was disappointed that, after all this, she still didn’t have access to all the secrets and powers of the Kindred, she also felt a large wave of relief. If she didn’t know how to unlock the earth Kindred’s power, that meant Amara probably didn’t know how to unlock the water Kindred either.
“Princess, I have a plan,” Jonas said in an unusually serious tone. “I believe I’ve now proven myself worthy of your trust, so I do hope you’ll listen with care.”
Cleo shook her head. “I’ve never doubted you.”
“Never? Really?”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Well, after you kidnapped me—twice—and tried to kill me, we did eventually come to a mutual understanding.”
“I’d feel so much better about things if you could forget about the kidnappings. At least the first one.”
She raised her brow. “Those days I spent trapped in your sister’s shed were very unpleasant for me.”
“I dug you a very nice makeshift chamber pot. I wouldn’t do that for just any royal hostage, you know.”
She grimaced. “Thanks for providing that memory. I do want to forget that.”
“I knew you’d come around.”
Cleo smiled and looked back at the orb, her thoughts swirling in time with the shadow of magic trapped deep inside of it. “So, what’s your plan?”
“I don’t trust the prince. Not for a moment.”
“No? You seemed to have trusted him well enough when you agreed to help kill his father—before and after he put you in chains.”
“Yes, well, luckily I’ve had time to think about it since. I’ve proven my trustworthiness to you, to many people over these last months, but he hasn’t. I’m not willing to take any more risks when it comes to him. Lys, Olivia, and I are leaving—and you’re coming with us. We can figure out how to get that magic rock to work and get our land back all on our own once we’re far away from here.”
Cleo had had many opportunities to simply walk away from the Limerian palace ever since that very first night when they’d arrived at the docks of Ravencrest. But she hadn’t. She felt she had more to learn here, more to gain, and that running away would only keep her in the same place she was now. “I know the prince is a brute with morals that can only kindly be described as questionable. I don’t want to be around him any more than you do. But I need to stay here a while longer. I need to know where the king is and what he’s planning.”
“We can track the king from anywhere.”
She shook her head. “That won’t be nearly as easy to do without the resources and intelligence in Limeros. Jonas, I also have a plan, and I hope you’ll be willing to help me with it.”
Jonas opened his mouth, as if ready to argue with her decision. But then he nodded. “Very well. Tell me.”
“We have a crystal, but we don’t know how to unlock its magic. However, I believe a Watcher would know this secret.”
“Well, then let me just snap my fingers and transport us to the Sanctuary to find one,” Jonas said, a sarcastic edge in his voice.
“Please, just listen to me. I know an exiled Watcher who lives in Paelsia. She spoke to me of legends, told me stories I’d never read or even heard of anywhere else. Real accounts of Eva, the original sorceress, and her love affair with a mortal hunter. Eva gave birth to his baby before the goddesses
killed her for the Kindred.” Cleo paused to take a deep breath, then steadied her gaze on Jonas’s again.
His expression grew more rigid with every word. She could see the patience feuding with skepticism in his brown eyes. “Go on.”
“I need you and your friends to visit this exiled Watcher and find out if she knows how to unlock this magic. Nic can go with you; he’ll know where to find her.”
He raised a brow. “You’re suggesting that Nic, Lys, Olivia, and I just run off and leave you here, all alone with a prince who could very well be plotting your demise?”
“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, you’ve proven that very well.” He rubbed his chin and frowned. “I will say this much: Your plan is much more intriguing than mine.”
She tried not to smile at this. “High praise, rebel.”
“You really think the prince will just let us leave the palace so easily?”
“Your own plan was to leave, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but that was with the certainty we wouldn’t ever return. The security here isn’t as impenetrable as it is in Auranos, but it’s still a palace, and there are still numerous sentries who keep watch over all who enter or leave these grounds.”
The rebel had made an excellent point. And even if Magnus hadn’t officially announced to everyone here that the Paelsian rebel leader was currently a “guest” at the castle, he would have many questions if, suddenly, Jonas and his friends were to wander off unexpectedly.
“I’ll speak with Magnus and give him an excellent reason for your temporary leave,” she said with a confident nod. “I’ll keep the earth Kindred here with me. That exiled Watcher may have been very kind and wise, but I’m not sure I trust even her with it.”
Jonas crossed his arms and studied her. “And it’ll be just that easy, will it? He’ll simply take your word without question?”
“He’ll have to. Otherwise my plan won’t work.”
“No, princess. Let me handle it. If I’m to agree to this, I don’t want you tangled up in it at all. When he asks about me, you will simply say you have no idea where we went, that I left without saying a word. I’ll deal with the ramifications when I return.”
Her heart lifted. “So you’re saying you’ll do this? You’ll go?”
Jonas paced to the other side of the small room, his arms still folded tightly over his chest.
She held her breath as she waited for his answer.
Finally, Jonas turned to face her again and gave her a grin. “It would be my honor, your highness. But when I come back, surely successful and impossibly heroic, I will ask for something in return. Something I haven’t had in far too long.”
Her heart leapt. “Anything. What is it?”
His smile grew. “A kiss from a princess.”
CHAPTER 17
LUCIA
PAELSIA
If Kyan learned about Lucia’s dream visit with Timotheus, he’d be furious. And since Lucia had quickly learned during their travels that the best kind of fire god was a calm fire god, she’d chosen not to speak a word of it to him.
Still, the dream had troubled—not to mention annoyed—her. Timotheus’s goal had been to dissuade her from helping Kyan, but his abrasive manner and disrespectful words had only succeeded in renewing her commitment to the fire god’s cause. Had Alexius been even half as unpleasant as his elder, Lucia wouldn’t have bothered with him at all.
In hindsight, that would have been much better for everyone.
She put that hateful encounter with Timotheus out of her head and focused on her current quest: finding her true family.
Lucia and Kyan had been working together to pull information out of various Mytican witches through a combination of fire storms and truth extraction, and finally they had a solid lead to follow.
This lead took them to the village of Basilia near Trader’s Harbor in Paelsia. The village was surrounded by vineyards, and thus its citizens subsisted on profits made from visiting ships and wine exports to Auranos. Thanks to its prime port location and never-ending cycle of visitors and merchants, Basilia was the most affluent and luxurious village in all of Paelsia, with comfortable inns for weary travelers, busy taverns serving libations imported from all around the world, and plenty of brothels for sailors.
They entered a tavern called The Purple Vine, already buzzing with patrons despite the fact that it was only midday.
The first thing Lucia noticed was that she was one of only five women there, and that the vast majority of the male patrons were loud and big and lewd, yelling and slamming their tables and calling out for more food and drink. And the smells—every odor from burnt goat’s meat to the sour stench of unwashed armpits—had Lucia wanting to turn right around and go back outside, promising lead be damned.
“This is fascinating,” Kyan said, smiling as he scanned the crowd. “Mortals at play.”
She could barely hear him over the vile din. Taking hold of Kyan’s arm, she threaded her way through the crowd toward a vacant table next to a small wooden stage across the room. It was impossible to get to the table without brushing against the men, and Lucia cringed at each point of contact.
One large, hairy brute whistled at her through his teeth. “Pretty girl, come here and sit on my knee!”
She sent a whisper of air magic toward him, which tipped his large tankard of ale right into his lap. He swore loudly and jumped to his feet, and Lucia turned her head to hide her sly smile.
Sick of the groping she had to endure just to get to the stage, she stopped in front of a table several paces away from her original goal. It was already occupied.
“I want to sit here,” she said to the gruff-looking patron seated there.
“Go away, girl.” The man flicked a dismissive hand at her. “And fetch me some lamb stew . . . and some bread to go along with it.”
Kyan watched Lucia with a smile, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well? Are you going to get him the stew? I wouldn’t mind trying some myself.”
Lucia leaned closer to the man and, ignoring the rotten stench of his breath, met his watery gaze. “I said, I want to sit here. Remove yourself from my sight.”
The man’s cheek twitched, and he sputtered out a mix of spittle and ale. Immediately, Lucia thought of Magnus’s pained reaction to her magic, and her stomach clenched.
The man grabbed his bowl of stew and vacated the table without further argument—and thankfully before she could inflict any real suffering.
“Well done,” Kyan said, reaching for man’s newly vacant chair. “You’re getting so much better at that.”
“Weaker minds do make things easier—for them and for me. Sit.”
As they sat down, Lucia gestured for the barmaid and asked for two apple ciders and a bowl of lamb stew for Kyan.
“No wine?” the barmaid asked, a hand on her plump hip. “Most fine ladies like yourself can only tolerate a place like this with some wine in their bellies.”
“I don’t indulge in wine.”
“No wine?” The barmaid snorted. “What are you, a Limerian?” She turned around without waiting for a reply, and Lucia followed her with a narrowed gaze until she disappeared into the crowd.
In the far corner of the tavern, a trio of flutists started up with a song, and the room began to quiet down.
The show was beginning.
Lucia was here to find a dancer known as the Goddess of Serpents, and now she knew that she was in the right place. As the trio’s melody hit its first crescendo, a young woman emerged from behind the stage. Her arms, legs, and face were streaked with golden paint, and her raven-black hair was long, falling nearly to her knees, with slender braids scattered around her face. Her blue eyes were heavily outlined with kohl. She wore an ornate jeweled mask that covered half of her face, and all that covered her lithe, tanned body was a costume of diaphanous scarves and veils. Such an outfit wouldn’t have turned a single head in a more exotic locale, like Kraeshia, but here it was a s
hocking sight, at least to Lucia. But the most shocking aspect of the girl’s appearance was not her revealing outfit; rather, it was the large, snow-white boa constrictor draped over her shoulders.
The crowd roared with approval as the Goddess of Serpents danced and swayed her hips to the music, as her pet snake’s tongue shot out every few seconds, as if searching for its next meal.
When the dance ended, the crowd cheered for more, and the snake goddess blew them all kisses, promising to return later that afternoon.
She was about to retreat backstage when Lucia reached into her drawstring purse and pulled out a handful of coins, setting them on the table before her. Lucia watched the dancer stop, raise a curious brow at the clank and sparkle of silver, then turn around and walk over to the table. She stood before Lucia and Kyan, offering them both a big smile.
“Welcome to The Purple Vine, friends,” she purred as she stroked the head of the white snake still wrapped over her shoulders like a scaly shawl.
Lucia pushed the coins toward her. “Sit with us for a moment.”
There was only a slight hesitation before the dancer snatched up the coins, wrapped them up in one of her scarves, and took a seat.
Suddenly, Lucia found that she was nervous, and it had very little to do with the serpent. How ridiculous. She was the one in control here. Silver would buy her the answers she needed, and if it didn’t, her magic would.
The barmaid returned with their ciders and Kyan’s stew. Lucia waited for her to leave before she spoke another word.
“The Goddess of Serpents is such a lovely name,” Lucia said, willing her voice to stay calm and even. “But what’s your real one?”
The girl smiled. “Laelia.”
“I see. And I take it you’re not an actual goddess.”
“That is a matter of opinion.” She smiled and slid a hand up Lucia’s arm as her pet wound closer around its mistress’s body. “For a few more coins I would be happy to make you and your handsome friend feel like a god and goddess tonight. This is a special offer, one I only rarely make, and only to those special souls to whom I take an immediate liking.”