Frozen Tides

  And today this ring had protected her—and the life growing inside her—from the wrath of an immortal god.

  The firestorm grew smaller as the glow around her grew brighter, expanding outward until it touched Kyan.

  The ethereal halo transformed into strands of glowing purple that moved over him like chains, restraining his fire, restraining his rage. They wrapped themselves around him until Lucia couldn’t see any flames beneath them.

  Kyan started to shrink, smaller and smaller, until he returned to his usual height. But then the light only grew brighter.

  Brighter still, until Kyan screamed and the light exploded into a million violet shards.

  And then the world around Lucia turned to cool, endless darkness.

  • • •

  She woke to the scent of warm, green grass and apple blossoms. Slowly, she opened her eyes to find that she lay in the middle of a meadow—the very same meadow where both Alexius and Timotheus had met her in her dreams.

  “Am I dreaming?” she whispered.

  No one answered her, no beautiful golden boy appeared before her. No hawk took perch in the apple tree. In her previous dreams, everything here had appeared jewel-like, the grass like strands of emeralds, the apples as red as rubies.

  But now the meadow appeared to consist of only soft green grass, and though the trees were tall and beautiful, they were no different from what she might find in Auranos.

  Beyond the meadow was a huge stone wheel she remembered from her dreams. And in the distance, across green hills and valleys, lay a crystal city that sparkled like diamonds under the sun.

  She was in the Sanctuary. The actual Sanctuary.

  How was this possible? Alexius had told her that mortals couldn’t come here. Had he lied? Or had something happened to Lucia that made her an exception to that rule?

  Lucia turned in a circle, as if the answer might magically appear to her.

  And then she knew.

  Her unborn child. A baby who was half mortal, half Watcher. And she, a sorceress with the power to vanquish the god of fire. These two extraordinary developments combined had given her the ability to be here.

  She didn’t know where Kyan had gone or if he’d return. But if he did, she knew he had to be imprisoned again. And his siblings—they could never be released from their crystal orbs. Kyan had been the most dangerous creature she’d ever seen. She could only imagine how much worse things would get once he reunited with his family.

  Had Timotheus foreseen this? She would ask him as soon as she found him.

  She had to make right what she’d helped go horribly wrong.

  Lucia took a deep breath, summoned every last remaining scrap of her courage, and began to walk toward the crystal city.

  CHAPTER 33

  CLEO

  LIMEROS

  This time, when Cleo woke, she knew exactly where she was.

  And with whom.

  For her first waking moment, all she could do was stare at him as he continued to sleep beside her.

  The events of the night had unfolded very unexpectedly. He’d come after her, he’d risked his life to try to find her.

  And he’d told her he loved her.

  Magnus Damora loved her.

  She couldn’t help but smile then—a scared, nervous, but hopeful smile.

  He looked so different when he slept. Younger. Peaceful. Beautiful. She tried to memorize every line and every angle of her dark prince’s face.

  He slowly opened his eyes, and in an instant his gaze was locked with hers. He furrowed his brow.

  “Princess . . .”

  “You know,” she began, “I really think you should start calling me Cleo now, exclusively. Proper royal titles are so . . . yesterday.”

  The serious look remained in his eyes, but his lips curved up to a cautious smile. “You think so, do you? Hmm. I’m not sure I like it. Cleo. So short, so . . . cheerful. And it’s what Nic calls you.”

  “It is my name.”

  “No, your name is Cleiona. A goddess’s name shouldn’t ever be shortened.”

  “I’m not a goddess.”

  His smile grew, and he stroked the hair back from her face. “It is encouraging that you haven’t run away from here yet, away from me.”

  “I haven’t, have I?” She brushed her lips against his, dizzy from the knowledge—both sweet and scary—of how she felt about him. She hadn’t even realized the truth of these feelings until she’d spoken them aloud last night. But this was real—realer than any emotion she’d ever felt.

  “Wait,” she gasped and sat up, pulling the blanket around her. “Magnus . . . it’s light out.”

  He sought her mouth again, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Light, yes . . . much, much better than darkness. I adore light—it allows me to see you completely.”

  “No, Magnus . . .” She pointed at the window. “It’s dawn. It’s tomorrow.”

  His expression tightened and tensed, then he swore under his breath. “How long were we asleep?”

  “From the looks of it, far too long. Lord Gareth’s castle is only a few miles from here, and if they’ve sent more guards out to search for me . . .” She turned a bleak look on him. “We need to get out of here.”

  “You’re absolutely right. We’ll have to put this very important discussion about what I shall call you now on hold.”

  “Yes, right after we discuss what to do about Amara and your father.”

  “One thing at a time.” As soon as Cleo mentioned his father, his expression again grew strained. “We’ll go to Ravencrest, find a ship bound for Auranos. Put distance between us and the king. Lord Gareth couldn’t possibly agree with my father’s latest decision.”

  “Knowing his sniveling, devious son, that’s debatable.”

  “Excellent point.”

  “But I do know people in Auranos,” Cleo said. “Nobles and diplomats still loyal to my father and to me. They could help us.”

  “Me, begging for help from Auranian nobles?” He raised a brow. “Shall we argue about this later?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Fine, later.”

  When they were dressed, Magnus touched her arm. “I want you to have something.”

  She turned to him and saw that he held the earth Kindred out to her. Her gaze snapped to his. “I was afraid to ask if you still had it.”

  “This belongs to you.” He put it in her hand and closed her fingers over it. “I have no claim on it.” He nodded firmly before she could say anything in reply. “Let’s go.”

  She slipped the orb into the pocket of her cloak as he pushed open the door. . . .

  To reveal King Gaius, standing, waiting, on the stone step.

  Cleo’s heart stopped in her chest.

  “Good morning,” the king said. “What a lovely abandoned cottage. I learned about this place, so close to Lord Gareth’s residence, so I decided to bring some guards with me here to investigate. It struck me as a perfect place to take refuge during a cold, stormy night.”

  Standing behind the king were four guards in Limerian uniforms.

  “It’s been some time, Magnus,” King Gaius said. “Have you missed me? More importantly, are you ready to answer for the crimes you’ve committed?”

  “That depends. Are you?”

  “I have nothing to answer for.”

  “The armed Kraeshians now flooding Limeros suggest otherwise.”

  The king sighed. “Why must you make everything a battle between us?”

  “Because everything is a battle between us.”

  “I have given you endless chances to prove your worth to me, to show that you’re strong and smart and capable of being my heir. And every single time you’ve disappointed me. Your escape to this little cottage retreat is just the most recent disappointment.” An expression of pure harshness settled deep within the lines of the king’s face. “Guards.”

  Three guards set upon Magnus, one on Cleo. Neither of them resisted as they were accompanied out o
f the cottage.

  Cleo’s escort was Enzo, the kind guard who had become involved with Nerissa.

  “I’m truly sorry for this, princess,” he said under his breath. “But I have my orders.”

  “I understand.” She didn’t expect any help from him, and she wouldn’t debase herself enough to ask. Limerian guards were well-trained to do as the king commanded.

  The snow-covered corpse of the Kraeshian guard whom Cleo had killed remained, could still be partially seen as they moved away from the cottage. Cleo eyed it as they passed by, trying to think, to find a way out of this. She had the earth Kindred, but it was useless to her if she couldn’t access its magic.

  “Where are you taking us?” she asked. “Back to the castle?”

  “Are you speaking to me, princess?” the king asked.

  “No, I’m speaking to the birds in the trees.”

  He sent her a smirk over his shoulder. “Just as charming as ever, I see. I have no idea how a girl as venomous as you succeeded in manipulating my son.”

  “You don’t understand,” Magnus gritted out. “You’ve never understood.”

  “What don’t I understand? Love?” The king laughed. “Is that what you think this is? A love worth committing treason for? Worth giving up your throne? Worth dying for, perhaps?”

  Magnus’s lips stretched to a grimace. “So what’s your plan?” he said, unwilling to dignify his father’s remarks with a response. “To kill us both?”

  “If it comes to that, I suppose I will have to. But I have something else in mind.”

  Magnus hadn’t looked at Cleo, not once, since they’d left the cottage. She tried not to let that unnerve her. Now, more than ever before, she needed her courage. She needed her strength.

  The king led them out of the forest, but instead of Lord Gareth’s castle, they’d come to the sharp edge of an icy cliff that dropped fifty feet down to a frozen lake.

  “When I was a boy,” the king said, “my mother would bring me here every summer. There was a waterfall just over there.” The king gestured to their left. “It’s frozen now, just like everything else.” He glanced at Magnus. “I haven’t told you much about your grandmother, have I?”

  “No, Father, but how exciting for me to learn more about my family history.”

  “It should be. Your grandmother was a witch.”

  Magnus blinked. “You’re lying. It’s impossible that I wouldn’t have heard about that before.”

  “Yes, well, you know how gossip can be. Rumors spread like wildfire. Which is exactly why she kept her identity a secret. She didn’t even tell your grandfather. She only told me.”

  “Quite the coincidence, then. My grandmother was a witch, and so was my real mother.”

  “Ah, yes. That. I admit, I was surprised when you chose to believe that Sabina Mallius was your true mother.” Magnus shot his father a sharp look, and the king laughed. “You really can’t blame me. You did have a blade to my throat and were threatening to kill me. I needed a distraction.”

  “So it was a lie. Only a lie.”

  “Of course it was. Althea was your mother, no one else.”

  Cleo saw a breath hitch in Magnus’s chest, and his hands turned to fists at his sides. “Well done, Father. How foolish of me to have ever forgotten how ruthless you are.”

  “Yes, I suppose I am ruthless. If I weren’t, I never would have survived this long.” The king turned to Cleo, cocking his head. “You have caused me extraordinary misery in your short lifetime—more than you will ever realize.”

  “Me?” she said, sternly incredulous, refusing to show this monster a glimmer of fear. “It has never been my intention to cause misery or difficulties. I only want to live the life I was meant for.”

  “Amara is very angry with you, you know. She’s asked me to bring you back so she can deal with you herself, but I don’t think I will. Grant that girl too many wishes and she might start to think she has some power over me. No woman will ever have power over me. Not ever again.”

  King Gaius stood before her now, glaring into her soul with eyes like two black bottomless pits of hatred.

  Finally, he tore his gaze away from her and looked back at Magnus. “Amara believes I should have you executed for treason.”

  “And what do you believe?”

  “I believe in family. And I believe in second chances for family—if they are earned.”

  “And, pray tell, how could I ever earn this second chance from you, Father?”

  The king nodded, and a guard shoved Cleo to the ground, sending her to her knees, hard.

  “You will earn it with a blood sacrifice. To the goddess Valoria, and to me. This girl is a threat—to both of us. She will lead you to your demise if you let her. I also had a choice once. To give my life for someone else or to sacrifice her and live in prosperity. When I made the wrong choice, your grandmother stepped in, vanquished my love, and saved my life. Should you make the wrong choice today, I will do you the same favor. But you will still not have earned your redemption. After all, falling in love is not the only crime you’ve committed for which you’ve yet to pay.”

  Cleo sought Magnus’s gaze, but he remained focused on his father.

  “You want me to kill her,” he said.

  “Quick, painless. A sword through the heart. Or perhaps a simple push off this cliff. But choose one, or I will choose for you.”

  Magnus stared at his father, his steely expression unreadable.

  “I refuse to accept that this is the only way for me to redeem myself.”

  “But it is, son. I know this is difficult—the most difficult thing I’ve ever asked of you. But that’s why it has so much value. Do this, and I will forgive you your past transgressions. You can rule the world at my side.”

  “I thought you meant to rule the world with Amara.”

  “That’s what she thinks, too. And I’ll let her keep thinking that for now. Do what’s right, Magnus. Don’t risk your life, your future, for one stupid girl. It’s not worth it.”

  “I would have risked my life, my future, for Lucia.”

  After all that had happened, Cleo thought, all that his adopted sister had put him through, did Magnus still love her?

  “Lucia is different,” the king said. “She was worthy of your sacrifice. She was powerful. This Bellos girl”—he sent a venomous look at Cleo—“is only a pretty package containing nothing of value, a glimmering weight that will drag you down to the bottom of the sea.”

  “You’re right. I know you’re right, yet I still struggle. I know she’s become the ruin of me.”

  Cleo couldn’t find her next breath.

  “A few unpleasant but necessary moments will fix all of that,” the king said. “Whatever you think you might feel for her is only an illusion—all romantic love is only an illusion. And illusions fade. Power doesn’t fade; power is eternal.”

  Magnus nodded solemnly, his brow furrowed. “I thought I’d destroyed my chance to rule. I’d tried to think of other ways to reclaim any power at all, but . . . you’re right. There is no other way. I’ve risked everything, lost all of my potential because of my stupid decisions.” He raised his gaze to meet the king’s. “Yet you would still give me the chance to redeem myself for this.”

  The king nodded solemnly. “I would.”

  “Your capacity for forgiveness is both surprising and humbling.” His jaw tensed, then he, too, nodded. “If this is what I must do to reclaim my power, my life, my future. Then so be it.”

  Cleo watched them both, stunned. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t happen.

  The king nodded at a guard, who handed Magnus his sword. The prince studied it in his hand, as if assessing its weight.

  “Look out at the lake, princess,” Magnus instructed her. “I promise this will be swift.”

  All she could see was the sword in Magnus’s grip, light glinting off its sharp blade. A sword that, with one quick thrust, would end her.

  “You . . . you honestly mean
to d-do this?” she stammered. “To me? After—after everything we’ve survived together?”

  “There’s no other choice.”

  She grappled to maintain her composure, her grace, before dying, but it slipped through her fingers like sand. “And how will you do it?” she asked, breathless, heart fluttering like a flock of starlings. “Thrust a sword through my back when I’m not looking, like you did to Theon?”

  “I was a boy then, I didn’t know myself when I killed that guard. But I know myself now. You, too, know me now, Cleiona. Which means you can’t be surprised by the choice I’ve made.”

  Tears stung her eyes and she faced the cliff’s edge. “Everything is a surprise to me when it comes to you, Magnus.”

  She thought of her father, the good and noble king. She thought of Emilia, of Theon and Mira. Everyone she’d lost. Everyone she’d been fighting for.

  “Then do it,” she gritted out, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Do it now.”

  Magnus nodded, his expression grim. “Very well, my princess.”

  He turned and swung the sword. Cleo braced herself, and felt the gust of wind brought by the speed of Magnus’s blade. But that was all she felt. Then, hearing a deep, primal roar, she turned with surprise to see Magnus striking at his father with a furious blow.

  The king brought up his weapon just in time, and their swords clashed. Clearly, his father had been ready for him to strike.

  “Oh, Magnus, don’t look so surprised,” the king said, their swords locked together, their faces uncomfortably close. “I know you, can predict your every move, because a long time ago I was you. But still I’d hoped, perhaps, that you would see reason much sooner than I did.”

  The guards took a step closer and the king flicked a look at them, halting them in place. “Stay where you are. It’s time that my son and I had this out between the two of us. He likely thinks he has a chance to win.”