Gathering Darkness

His throat was tight, his mouth dry. He suddenly realized how warm it was today and felt as if his heavy black coat was trying to choke him.

  “What truth?” he asked.

  “That the Kindred must be found and immediately returned to the Sanctuary. If they’re not, the world will . . . it will . . .”

  “What?” He forced himself to regain his composure. “Will life as we know it end? Is that what your new tutor told you?”

  “Essentially,” Alexius said.

  Of course. How better to manipulate Lucia than to convince her the world would end without her assistance?

  Magnus glanced at Cleo. She held her arms across the bodice of her rose-colored gown, which was far fancier than anything typically worn on a walk through a thick forest on a hot day. She regarded him with a silent, sour expression—not a new look for her by any means.

  “And why are you here?” he asked her.

  “I want to help,” she replied.

  “Oh, yes. So helpful.” If Lucia honestly believed this duplicitous creature was a true friend to her, she was a fool. For all her rigid upbringing and the lack of love and guidance from her cold and calculating mother, Lucia could be so unforgivably naïve. “How convenient it is that you’re along for the ride today. With your interest in the Kindred and all.”

  “Of course I’m interested in the Kindred,” Cleo replied quickly. “I live in Mytica and have heard the legends and stories all my life. However, I didn’t know it was all true until just the other day.”

  She said it with such confidence, even Magnus almost believed her.

  Almost.

  Magnus looked at Lucia. “You should have told me about this.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh. But they used to share so much, it pained him that she hadn’t trusted him.

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you. But I know how close you’ve become with Father lately. You two are practically inseparable.”

  “That is vastly overstating matters.”

  “Magnus is right,” Cleo said. “He doesn’t spend all his time with the king. Some of his time—or at least some of his nights—are spent with Princess Amara.”

  Lucia looked at him, shocked. “You and Amara?”

  He’d spent only the one night with the Kraeshian princess. She hadn’t made contact with him since returning to her villa and it hadn’t bothered him one bit. She’d been a pleasant distraction, nothing more than that. But no one had to know that but him.

  “I couldn’t help myself,” Magnus said. “Amara is irresistible. We do have so much in common. That girl is full of possibilities.”

  He half expected a retort from Cleo, but she stayed silent.

  “If you say so.” A new frown creased Lucia’s brow. She turned to Alexius. “I want Magnus to be a part of this. I trust him not to say anything to Father.”

  Lucia’s words tugged at Magnus’s heart. She still cared about him, trusted him, even though he couldn’t think of many reasons why she should.

  Alexius said nothing, keeping his gaze fixed on Magnus. There was something in the Watcher’s eyes that seemed far more ancient than his otherwise youthful appearance. “As you wish,” he said at last.

  Lucia nodded and turned her attention to Magnus. “Father can’t know. Promise me, Magnus. He can’t know about this.”

  “Oh, I promise,” Magnus replied. “Father will never possess even one crystal now that I know they have much more important purposes.”

  Although, not the important purposes Lucia believed in.

  But first he needed to see it, to prove to himself it was real. Then he’d figure out what to do next. If this journey led to nothing, he could use this as a means to get rid of Alexius, to soil the Watcher’s reputation in the eyes of the king. Just another useless boy with his goals set on the king’s daughter.

  He knew that Alexius and Lucia could be extremely dangerous if provoked or betrayed. And Cleo . . . well, he didn’t underestimate her, either.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Alexius said. “We’re almost there.”

  Alexius and Lucia walked ahead and Magnus trailed behind them with Cleo, who walked slowly, as if treading on broken glass.

  “Trouble with your shoes? Are they too tight for the long walk?” he asked, eyeing the fine golden sandals that peeked out from beneath her skirts.

  Her jaw clenched. “Not at all.”

  “Good. I’d hate to think you were in constant pain due to your poor choices.”

  They continued on in silence. Magnus tried to ignore the uncomfortable heat and resisted the urge to remove his jacket. And, frankly, his boots were rather uncomfortable as well.

  It was an unpleasant day, but one made infinitely tolerable because it might lead to triumph.

  They were so close, and now the king would never lay his hands on what he wanted most. That single thought gave Magnus more pleasure than he’d felt in months—or even years.

  Finally, they arrived. The Temple of Cleiona had been a massive structure of white marble, thick pillars, and stone carved with artistic precision. It had been the grandest and most impressive structure that Magnus had ever seen in his life. When he’d come here for the first time, it had actually taken his breath away.

  Now it lay in ruins. The large statue of the goddess out front had crashed to the ground during the earthquake and in pieces. A massive crack split the marble floor down the center. The ceiling was mostly caved in.

  The site of his marriage to Cleo had been abandoned. Where once many had come to pray, there was now but the four of them.

  “You’re certain a crystal is here?” Magnus said, still finding it hard to believe that they could be so close.

  “I’m certain.” Lucia held out her hand, and Magnus noticed that she wore a familiar ring—the ring he’d often seen Cleo wearing. “I used this ring to help awaken it in this place of power. And now we can claim it through a ritual.”

  The ring.

  Magnus fought to keep his expression neutral. Phaedra, the Watcher in Paelsia, told him about a ring that could help Lucia control her magic.

  This was it. His heart pounded at the realization. She’d found it, it had simply dropped into her lap, when he’d had no idea where to even begin looking.

  Magnus cast a dark, quizzical look at the blond princess, and Lucia caught his eye. “Cleo gave it to me,” she said. “To help me. To help us all.”

  All this time, Cleo had had the ring. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “Did she now?”

  “I like to help when I can,” Cleo said evenly.

  He forced a smile and said, “If you’ll excuse us for a moment, I’d like a quick word with my wife.”

  Lucia regarded him with uncertainty. “Of course.”

  She then took Alexius’s hand and drew him away, closer to the temple’s entrance, to give the pair their privacy.

  Magnus studied the ruins before him, remembering, with a churning sensation in his gut, the last time they’d been here. Cleo stood nearby, just as quiet and still as the crumbling statue of her namesake goddess.

  “I know what you’re trying to do,” Magnus said to her finally. “And you can’t have it.”

  “Can’t have what?”

  He wrestled with frustration. Cleo had a way of testing his carefully crafted composure that was unlike anyone else he’d ever met. “The Kindred belongs to my family, not to you.”

  “That’s strange. Didn’t you just hear Lucia say that the Kindred belong to the Sanctuary? And I thought I heard you agree with her.”

  “As if I believe you’d willingly let it go.”

  “To do my part to save the world? Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Mark my words.” He leaned closer. “If you try to steal the crystal, we will have a very serious problem, you and I.”

  She sighed with impatience. “Well, I wouldn’t want th
at, especially since we’ve gotten along so well up until now.”

  “Tread carefully, princess, or this will end very badly for you.”

  Her gaze turned to ice. “How ashamed I am that I could have ever thought for one tiny moment that you were anything more than what you appear to be.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A hateful, selfish monster with no kindness in his heart.”

  He repressed a wince, despising the fact that sharp words from this particular girl could succeed in wounding him. “Hear me well, princess. I’ll say this only once. Keep your hands off any treasure we find today or I swear I’ll reduce you to nothing but ashes to scatter on the wind.”

  Before he could hear Cleo’s rebuttal, he walked off toward Lucia and Alexius, who waited at the temple’s entrance. He’d expected something cutting and sarcastic, but she said nothing.

  He supposed this was his way. When someone pushed him, he responded by crushing them.

  “We need to go inside,” Alexius said.

  Magnus eyed the shattered rooftop and the crumbling beams waiting for them at the top of the stairs. “So it can collapse on our heads?”

  “Magnus,” Lucia said sternly. “We’ll do as Alexius says.”

  Lucia’s decision to defend the Watcher without hesitation annoyed him deeply. “Fine. Then please show us the way, Alexius.”

  The Watcher led them up the broken stairs to the grand entrance. Sunlight shone through the damaged roof. Cleo peered around with a pinched expression on her beautiful face.

  “So this ritual. What does it involve?” Magnus asked.

  Alexius pulled out a dagger. “It’s a blood ritual.”

  Magnus almost laughed aloud. “Isn’t it always.”

  Without hesitation, Alexius pressed the blade against his palm, letting crimson blood drip to the floor.

  Watchers bled the same shade of red as mortals. Interesting.

  Alexius knelt on the ground and used his blood to make a mark on the temple floor. A circle within a circle.

  It was the symbol of earth, the element associated with Goddess Valoria’s magic. Magnus recognized it well.

  When Alexius completed the symbol, Lucia bound his hand with a handkerchief.

  “Now what?” Magnus asked.

  “We wait.” Alexius frowned as he turned around, scanning his surroundings.

  “We wait for what?” Magnus prompted, but the others were silent.

  They waited. Nearby, a skull-sized chunk of marble dislodged from a pillar and crashed to the ground—Magnus noticed it had been ornately carved into the shape of a rose. A glance confirmed these rose sculptures adorned many spots in the temple. Strangely, he hadn’t noticed that detail until now, when it was all toppling down.

  Magnus looked up warily at the roof. “How long must we wait?” he growled.

  “I don’t know,” Alexius said.

  “I’d think a wise and magical Watcher like you would know these things.”

  “And yet, I don’t know everything.” Alexius looked impatient, perhaps a little bit desperate, as if he’d expected things to go differently.

  Then something caught Magnus’s eye. A mark on a clear patch of floor behind Cleo.

  “What is that?” The sinking sensation in his gut was enough to tell him he already knew the answer to his own question.

  “It can’t be,” Alexius said under his breath. “It can’t. How could they know?”

  Drawn on the pristine surface was another symbol identical to Alexius’s. The blood was still red and fresh.

  Someone else had gotten there first.

  CHAPTER 23

  JONAS

  AURANOS

  I can only hope this message finds you in time. You must go the Temple of Cleiona, as quickly as you can. There you will use your blood to draw the symbol of earth on the floor. This will reveal the earth Kindred. However difficult you find this to believe, you must trust me and do what I say.

  Claim the crystal and keep it safe until we meet again.

  Jonas, Lysandra, and Felix had set off for the temple the very next morning. Jonas nearly stumbled at the crumbling site of the first rebel battle, which had gone so horribly wrong. Of the two dozen rebels who’d volunteered to stand with him that day, he alone had walked away. Crawled away, really.

  Lysandra touched his shoulder. “Jonas, are you all right?”

  “Perfectly fine.”

  “Why don’t I believe that?”

  Her concerned gaze made him grin weakly. “It’s funny . . .”

  “What?”

  “You never used to look at me the way you are now. You used to look at me like you wanted to kill me.”

  “I did want to kill you. Still do, sometimes.” She offered him a smile.

  “Come on, you two,” Felix urged, marching ten paces ahead of them. “Let’s go find some treasure.”

  Lysandra grabbed Jonas’s arm. “Are you absolutely sure you trust him?”

  “I’m sure. Despite any admissions of his past from last night, he’s earned my trust, Lys. Again and again.”

  She nodded. “All right. If you trust him, then I will too. Your golden princess, on the other hand . . .”

  He began to climb the temple steps behind Lysandra. “I know you don’t like Cleo, but that she wanted me to do this for her . . . is it stupid that I consider that an honor?”

  “No, it’s not stupid.” She glanced at him over her shoulder and her light brown eyes met his. “So what happens if we find it?”

  A month ago he believed in neither Watchers nor the Kindred, but now they could mean all the difference in the world. All because of some magic rocks.

  “Honestly? I have no idea.” He grinned. “I try not to plan too far ahead.”

  As they entered the temple, Jonas’s grin fell away. A rush of memories pressed at him from every side, making it hard to breathe.

  He’d been so blind that day, and so incredibly cocky. For a brief, shining moment, assassinating King Gaius and Prince Magnus and liberating his people had seemed like a true possibility. There had seemed to be so few guards there to protect the royals, but really the guards had been disguised as wedding guests, waiting to crush a rebel attack.

  The blood from that day was still there, dried to reddish brown stains on the pale marble floor. The temple was in a shambles and each step they took brought more creaks, more crumbling, as if one wrong move might destroy it completely. Its majesty had been tarnished. What was once a sacred place to worship the Auranian goddess was now a dangerous beast waiting to consume intruders.

  “Let’s make this quick,” Felix said. “Or this whole place is going to cave in on our heads.”

  Jonas found a bare patch of floor and kicked away some ragged shards of stone.

  He pulled out his jeweled dagger and cut his hand. The pain was sharp and deep, but he didn’t even wince. He squeezed his fist, and blood began to drip to the floor. He crouched and smeared it into a circle with another circle within it.

  When he was done, he rose to his feet, his stomach churning nervously.

  “Okay, princess,” he muttered. “Now what?”

  The ground rumbled. Small chunks of marble came crashing down around them.

  Lysandra looked up and grimaced. “You must have triggered something. This place is going to fall to pieces any moment.”

  “Wait.” Felix grabbed Jonas’s arm, his fingers biting deep enough to cause pain. “Look over there.”

  Along the aisle sullied by the blood of his fallen rebels, a narrow shaft of light streamed through a hole in the roof, illuminating a small object. Jonas followed the light and stared down at the object with stunned disbelief.

  “It worked,” Felix said, breathless. “I can’t believe it, but it worked.”

  It was a sphere of obsidia
n the size of a small plum, and so smooth and polished that it reflected the image of the three of them staring down at it.

  Hearing new voices close by, Jonas grew tense. He grabbed the black orb and shoved it into his pocket.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Now.”

  “No time,” Lysandra whispered harshly. “We need to hide.”

  The three rebels ducked behind a pillar and peered out to see four people enter.

  It was none other than Princess Cleo, Princess Lucia, Prince Magnus, and another boy Jonas didn’t recognize—tall and lean, with golden-tan skin and coppery-brown hair.

  Jonas and his companions held a collective breath from their hiding spot as the four made their way deeper into the temple.

  “What’s the ritual?” Magnus said.

  The other boy pulled out a dagger. “It’s a blood ritual.”

  “Isn’t it always.”

  As the boy prepared to cut his hand, Jonas indicated to Lysandra and Felix to slip out of the temple while the others were distracted. Following Jonas’s lead, they raced down the broken stairs and kept running until they were shielded by the nearby forest.

  “Keep going,” Jonas said. “We need to put all the distance we can between us.”

  He only wished he could have seen the look on Magnus’s face when he realized the crystal was gone.

  “I assume they were not friends of yours,” Felix said.

  Jonas nearly laughed. “Didn’t you recognize his highness, Prince Magnus? And his sister, Princess Lucia?”

  “And don’t forget Princess Cleo,” Lysandra added. “Jonas’s beloved.”

  Felix hacked at the thick foliage with his blade as he led the way. “Every bit as beautiful as I’ve heard.”

  Lysandra grunted. “I guess, if you like that type.”

  “Rich, privileged, and gorgeous? I certainly do like that type.”

  They stopped to rest in a clearing, which was quiet save for a chorus of chirping birds and buzzing insects. Lysandra took a seat on a fallen tree trunk.

  “It just appeared. Like magic,” Felix said, shaking his head and grinning. “Which, I suppose, isn’t that strange considering it is magic. Let’s see it.”