Falling Kingdoms (32 page)

“It’s too late for that.”

Cleo pressed her shaking hand against his side to find it soaked with blood. Pain crashed down upon her. “No, Father, please. You can’t leave me. Not like this.”

He slipped a few more inches and she grabbed hold of him to help him stay on his feet. “I know you’ll be a wonderful queen.”

Tears streamed down her face so much that she could barely see. “No, please. Please don’t leave me.”

“I love you.” Her father’s voice had grown strained as if it took great effort now for him to speak. “I’ll always love you. Be smarter than me. Be a better leader than me. Help bring Auranos back to its former glory. And believe in magic...always. I know it’s out there waiting for you to find it.”

“No, please no,” she whispered. “Don’t go. I need you.”

He finally slipped out of her grasp to the floor. His grip on her hand tightened painfully, then eased off completely.

Her father was dead.

Cleo had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She collapsed to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest, rocking herself back and forth. A cry of anguish locked in her throat, threatening to choke her. Then she clutched onto her father, not wanting to let him go even though she knew he was gone. “I love you. I love you so much.”

He hadn’t surrendered to the Limerians. If he had, this all could have been avoided.

But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t the truth. This king of Limeros, King Gaius, was a tyrant. A dictator. An evil man who would kill anyone who got in his way. If her father had stepped aside to prevent violence and bloodshed, she was positive he would have been killed anyway so he wouldn’t be a threat in the future.

Cleo kept her head against her father’s shoulder, the same as when she was little and needing comfort from some silly thing—hurt feelings, a skinned knee. He’d always drawn her to his side and told her it would be all right. The pain would ease. She would heal.

But she would never heal from this. She’d experienced so much loss that it felt as if a part of her heart had been gored out of her chest, leaving a bloody wound behind. She would stay here and let Prince Magnus find her. Let him drive a sword through her as well so she could find peace and quiet after all of this chaos and pain.

The hopeless thought only lasted a few minutes before she could hear her sister’s voice in her head, urging her to be strong. But how was she supposed to be strong when everything had been taken from her?

The ring caught her eye. She’d dropped it. The large amethyst glittered in the meager light of the room.

She was a descendant of the hunter—the man from Paelsia who’d loved the sorceress, Eva. Who’d hidden the Kindred after the goddesses destroyed each other out of greed and vengeance. If what her father had told her was true, this had been Eva’s ring—the ring that allowed her to touch the Kindred without its infinite magic corrupting her.

Cleo grasped the ring and slipped it onto the middle finger of her left hand.

It fit perfectly.

If this ring had the power to help her find the Kindred, it also gave her the power to wield the Kindred’s magic without becoming corrupted by it. She could use that magic to take back her kingdom from those who’d stolen it. The thought worked to dry her tears and give her clarity. She wouldn’t surrender. Not today, not ever.

Cleo gazed upon her father’s face one last time before leaning forward to kiss him.

“I’ll be strong,” she whispered. “I’ll be strong for you. For Emilia. For Theon. For Auranos. I swear, I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done.”

I
oannes watched the old woman as she put her laundry out to dry on a line stretched between two withered trees near her humble stone cottage. Her face was grim, and she glanced up in his direction every few moments.

“Be gone,” she said harshly.

He didn’t move from his perch.

“I know who you are. I know you’ve been here many times before.” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s you, isn’t it, brother? None of the others would bother with me now.”

His sister, Eirene, had left the Sanctuary more than fifty mortal years ago. Then she’d been beautiful and young and full of life and would have stayed that way eternally. But now, beyond the veil, she’d become wrinkled, hunched over, and gray from age and hard work.

She’d made her choice. Once one left the Sanctuary, one could never return.

“Are you aware of the war that rages right now?” she asked. Ioannes wasn’t certain if she really believed that he was her brother or if she was slightly mad—a woman who talked to birds. “It will end with blood and death as all wars do. The King of Blood searches for the same thing as you, I know it. Do you think you’ll find it before he does?”

He couldn’t reply to her, so he didn’t bother trying.

“The girl was born. She lives, brother. I saw it in the stars years ago—but you likely know this already. She can find the Kindred. The elders will be pleased to have all restored to normal.”

Eirene’s expression soured. “Without the crystals, the Sanctuary will fade away. I see it in this land. It’s all connected. Everything is connected, brother, even more than I ever believed it was.” She laughed, but there was no humor to the sound. “Perhaps it’s for the best. If I’m to die a mortal, why shouldn’t the same fate be given to all, no matter how long they’ve lived or how important they think they are? All things must eventually come to an end.”

Eirene had left the Sanctuary because she’d fallen in love with a mortal. She’d turned her back on immortality for the chance at love. She believed a handful of years that contained passion and life was better than an endless pristine existence. He’d been disgusted by her weakness then. For a Watcher, fifty years was only a breath of time.

“Beware of one thing, brother.” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she was about to return to her small cottage. “Don’t overestimate your ability to deal with mortals, even the pretty ones. After two thousand years, it could finally be the death of you.”

He still hadn’t told Danaus, Timotheus, or even Phaedra about the beautiful dark-haired princess’s magic. She was too important, and Ioannes had begun to trust fewer of his kind in recent months. He had to continue to keep watch over her. He had to find the right time to communicate with her.

And, very soon, he would have to find a way to kill her.

V
ictory was theirs. The king of Auranos had been killed. The eldest princess and heir to the throne was found dead in her chambers. But there was still a loose end. Princess Cleiona had escaped the palace.

For such a young and seemingly innocuous girl, she was very wily.

If Magnus ever came face-to-face with her again, she wouldn’t slip through his fingers a third time. He didn’t like being frustrated. He also didn’t like the splinter of guilt that had worked its way under his skin over the relentless tragedy that had befallen the girl—both her father and sister’s deaths, as well as the guard who’d protected her in Paelsia. The one she’d said she loved. The one Magnus had killed with his own sword.

Irrelevant.
It was done. And there was nothing he could do to change it even if he wanted to.

Magnus hadn’t told his father that he’d come close to capturing her again. He didn’t think the second failure when it came to the princess would earn him any favor with the king. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt the king’s celebrations. Magnus was the only other person invited to the private dinner in his father’s heavily guarded tent between King Gaius and Chief Basilius. They toasted their mutual victory with the finest Paelsian wine.

Magnus abstained. He was too concerned with Lucia’s health to be in the right frame of mind to celebrate. She still lay unconscious, hours after her magic broke through the front doors of the castle ensuring their victory. The force of the explosion had also knocked him out, but when he came to minutes later, he was only shaken, not injured.

Lucia, however, was covered in blood. Out of his mind with panic, Magnus carried her to the medics. By the time he’d arrived, her cuts and abrasions had miraculously—or magically—faded away completely. But she remained unconscious.

The medics, baffled, told him that she needed rest and that she would wake eventually. While he waited, he’d prayed to the goddess Valoria to bring Lucia back. His sister believed in the goddess with all her heart. He didn’t, but he was willing to give it a try.

Two hundred people—from all three kingdoms—had been killed in the explosion. But Lucia lived. And for that Magnus was grateful.

Over twelve hours now and he’d heard nothing new about her. It was dinnertime and the king and the chief clinked their glasses, laughing over their victory and toasting to the bright future. Magnus sat with them at the table, his food untouched.

“Oh, my son,” the king said, smiling. “Always so serious, even now.”

“I’m worried about Lucia.”

“My darling secret weapon.” The king beamed. “Every bit as powerful as I always hoped she’d be. Impressive, yes?”

“Very,” the chief agreed, downing his fourth glass of wine. “And a beautiful girl. If I had sons, I think we could make a fine match between our lands.”

“Indeed.”

“Speaking of . . . ” The chief glanced at Magnus. “I do have a daughter who is yet unspoken for. She’s only twelve, but she would make an excellent wife.”

Magnus tried to keep the look of disgust off his face. The thought of a bride so young made him utterly nauseous.

“You never know what the future may bring,” his father said, running his finger around the edge of his wineglass. “So I suppose we should give some thought to how to deal with the spoils of war. The coming days and weeks are going to be very interesting.”

“We must appoint representatives to ensure that everything remains equal as we discussed. Of course, I trust that Limeros will be honest in its dealings with us.”

“Of course.”

“So much here, so many riches. Gold, treasures, resources. Fresh water. Forests. Fields upon fields of crops. A land teeming with game. It’s a paradise.”

“Yes,” the king said. “And, of course, there is the matter of the Kindred.”

The chief raised a dark, bushy eyebrow. “You believe in the Kindred?”

“Don’t you?”

The chief drained his next glass. “Of course. I have searched for signs of its location through years of meditation, sending my own magic out across the miles to try to sense where it could be.”

“Have you had any luck?” the king asked.

The chief waved a hand. “I feel I am close to something.”

“I believe they’re here in Auranos,” King Gaius said evenly.

“Do you? What gives you that impression?”

“Auranos flourishes, green and lush, like the legendary Sanctuary itself, while Paelsia wastes away and Limeros turns to ice. Simple deduction, really.”

As the chief considered this, he swirled the remaining amber-colored wine around in his glass. “Others have considered the same thing. I’m not sure I necessarily believe that. I believe the carved stone wheels found in Limeros and Paelsia point to clues of its location.”

“Perhaps,” King Gaius allowed. “But to have taken this land from King Corvin is to possess everything the land contains with unrestricted access to tear it apart in my search. To find even one crystal would mean endless magic—but to possess them all...”

The chief nodded, his eyes lighting with greed. “We could become gods. Yes, this is good. We will find them together, and we will split them down the middle—fifty-fifty.”

“You like that plan?”

“I like it very much.”

“You know, your people already consider you their god. Enough to pay you blood sacrifice and enough wine tax to support your comfortable lifestyle.” King Gaius leaned back in his chair. “They believe you’re a great sorcerer descended from the Watchers themselves who will soon rise up and deliver them all from squalor.”

The chief spread his hands. “Without my people I am nothing.”

“I have known you for some time now and I have yet to see a spark of this magic.”

A glimmer of unfriendliness moved over the chief’s face. “You haven’t known me that long. Perhaps one day I will show you my true power.”

Magnus watched his father carefully. There was something strange going on here that he wasn’t quite understanding, but he knew better than to speak. When the king had asked him to be a part of this dinner meeting and celebration, he’d specifically told Magnus that he was only there to observe and to learn.

“When do we begin our search for the Kindred?” the chief asked. Both his plate and wineglass now empty.

“I intend on beginning immediately,” the king replied.

“And which two elements do you wish to possess?”

“Two? I wish to possess all four.”

The chief frowned. “All four? How is that splitting things fifty-fifty?”

“It’s not.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. And that’s just...sad, really.” A smile stretched across the king’s face.

The chief stared at him for a moment, a drunken glaze in his eyes thanks to the two bottles of wine he’d drunk. Then he started to laugh. “You nearly had me. No, Gaius. I trust you to hold true to your word. We are like brothers after the blood sacrifice of your bastard. I don’t forget.”

“Neither do I.” The king’s smile held as he got to his feet and moved to the other side of the table. “Time for rest. Tomorrow is a bright new day. I’ve had enough of tents. We shall move into the castle. Much finer quarters there.”

He offered his hand to Chief Basilius, who still chuckled over their amusing exchange. He took the king’s hand and got to his feet, unsteadily. “A fine meal. Your cooks are to be commended.”

King Gaius watched him. “Show me some magic. Just a little. I feel I’ve earned this.”

The chief patted his belly. “Not tonight. I am too full for such displays.”

“Very well.” The king extended his hand again. “Good night, my friend.”

“Good night.” He clasped the king’s hand and shook it.

King Gaius pulled him closer. “I believed the stories. The ones of you being a sorcerer. I’ve seen enough magic not to doubt such tales until I have enough evidence to disprove it. I must admit, there was some fear. While I am a man of action, I don’t possess any magic of my own. Not yet.”

The chief’s brows drew together. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Yes,” King Gaius said. “That’s exactly what I’m calling you.”

Taking the dagger he’d concealed in his other hand, King Gaius slashed the chief’s throat in one smooth, quick motion.

The chief’s eyes bugged out with surprise and pain and he staggered back from the king.

“If you’re really a sorcerer,” the king said coolly, “heal yourself.”

Magnus gripped the edge of the table but didn’t make a move. Every muscle in his body had grown tense at the exchange.

Blood spurted from between the chief’s fingers. His panicked gaze shot toward the tent’s entrance, which was guarded only by King Gaius’s men. His trust had allowed him to come in here with no bodyguards nearby.

“Oh, and that fifty-fifty deal of ours?” the king said with a thin smile. “It was for a limited time only. Auranos is mine. And now, so is Paelsia.”

The chief looked completely shocked by this turn of events before he collapsed to the floor with a heavy thump. The king nudged his shoulder so the chief turned over onto his back, his eyes wide and glazed, blood oozing from the gaping wound at his throat.

Magnus fought against the urge to leap back . In a way, he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. He’d been waiting for his father to turn the tables on the chief for a while now.

When the king flicked a look at his son as if to gauge his reaction to this, all he saw was a mildly bored expression on the prince’s face.

“Come, now. You’re not impressed at all?” He let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Oh, Magnus, you’ve got to give me a little credit.”

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed or concerned,” Magnus said evenly. “For all I know, you might do the same thing to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m doing all of this for
you, Magnus. Together we will find the Kindred—it’s been my life’s goal from the time I was a boy and first heard the tales. To find all four will give us ultimate power. We can rule the universe itself.”

A shiver moved down Magnus’s spine at the maniacal look in his father’s eyes. “I can’t say that my father doesn’t have scope.”

“Clear and precise. Now”—the king moved toward the entrance to the large and luxurious tent—“let us inform the people of Auranos and Paelsia that their leaders are dead and they now must bow before me. Or die.”