Falling Kingdoms (33 page)

“J
ust once,” Brion said under his breath, “I would have liked you to be wrong.”

Jonas glanced at him. “I’ve been wrong lots of times.”

“Not this time.”

“No. Not this time.”

They stood at the edge of the forest and watched as the chief’s blood-covered body was strung up for all to see. The Limerian king flaunted the murder as a symbol of the chief’s weakness. He was no sorcerer or god as his people had always believed. He was only a man.

A dead man.

After his death last night, the Limerian army had turned their blades on the same Paelsians they’d previously fought with side by side. Those who refused to bow down before King Gaius immediately had their throats slashed or their heads severed completely and put on spikes. Most bowed and pledged allegiance to Limeros. Most were afraid to die.

With every moment he’d been forced to witness this atrocity, Jonas’s heart grew darker. Not just Auranos, but Paelsia had fallen to these greedy and deceptive Limerian monsters led by their king of blood and death. It was everything he’d feared.

He’d grabbed Brion just in time. His friend had been faced with a Limerian’s sword, and by the fierce and insolent look on Brion’s face, he wasn’t going to bow before King Gaius. As the knight raised his blade, ready to remove Brion’s head, Jonas killed him, grabbed Brion, and fled.

He’d killed many since this war began. He’d considered himself a hunter before this, but of animals, not men. Now his blade had found the hearts of many men. What little inside him was still a boy of only seventeen years had hardened to compensate for this. Each time he killed, it became easier and the faces of the men whose lives he took became less distinguishable from each other. But this was not the path he ever would have chosen for himself had he known where it would ultimately lead.

Together, Brion and Jonas had found other boys they recognized from their country, those who refused to surrender to this madness. There was now a group of six of them, all gathered in the protection of the forest.

“So what now?” Brion asked, his expression grim and haunted. “What can we do but watch and wait? If we go out there again, we’ll be slaughtered.”

Jonas thought of his brother. Since his murder, everything had changed. A life of hardship and squalor in Paelsia paled in comparison to the horrors that lay ahead. “We need to wait and see what happens next,” Jonas finally said.

“So we’re supposed to stand back like cowards?” Brion growled. “And let King Gaius destroy our land? Slaughter our people?”

The idea of it made Jonas’s stomach clench. He hated feeling powerless. He wanted to act now, but he knew that would only get them all killed. “The chief made many mistakes. He’s gone now. And, if you ask me, he was a lousy leader. We needed someone who was strong and capable, not one who would so easily be fooled by someone like King Gaius.” Jonas’s jaw was tight. “Basilius’s defeat sickens me. Because of his greed and stupidity, the rest of us must suffer.”

The other four boys gathered around grumbled about the unfairness of it all.

“But we’ve always survived despite the odds stacked against us.” Jonas raised his voice to be heard above the others. “Paelsia has been dying for generations. But we still live.”

“It’s King Gaius’s now,” a boy named Tarus said. The kid wasn’t much more than fourteen and was the older brother of the boy Jonas witnessed die on the battlefield. “He’s destroyed us and now he owns us.”

“Nobody owns us. You hear me? Nobody.” Jonas remembered his brother’s words all those years ago. “If you want something, you have to take it. Because nobody’s ever going to give it to you. So we’re going to take back what’s been taken from us. And then we’ll create a better future for Paelsia. A better future for us all.”

“How?”

“He hasn’t a clue,” Brion said, actually smiling now for the first time in days. “But he’s going to do it anyway.”

Jonas could help but grin back. His friend was right. He would figure out how to fix this. There was not a doubt in his mind.

Jonas cast a look toward the Auranian palace. While it glittered golden under the sun, part of it still burned from the explosion at dawn yesterday. A black cloud of smoke rose up above it.

He’d heard the reports. The king was dead. The eldest princess, Emilia, was also dead. However, Princess Cleo hadn’t yet been found.

When he’d heard this news, he was surprised at the lifting of his heavy heart.

The girl whom he’d blamed for his brother’s death, the one he’d fantasized about killing to gain vengeance, the one who’d cunningly managed to escape her own fate, her shackles, and a locked and guarded shed.

She was queen now. A queen in exile.

And he had to find her.

The future, both Paelsia’s and Auranos’s, now depended completely on her survival.

P
rincess Cleo’s bedchamber was now Lucia’s. Magnus stood by while the medics and healers surrounded her, but they left when they could do nothing more to help. She lay there in the large canopied bed, her beautiful face pale, her midnight-black hair fanned across the silk pillows.

Magnus stood stonily by her bedside cursing the goddess who hadn’t answered his prayers. One healer remained, wiping Lucia’s forehead with a cool, damp cloth.

“Get out of here,” he snapped.

The woman looked at him with fear before scurrying out of the room. He was getting that reaction a lot lately. With his actions on the battlefield, with the ease he took the lives of those in his path, and that he had been present when Chief Basilius was murdered, the reputation that he was the Prince of Blood had grown to nearly match his father’s reputation.

Only Lucia had ever been able to see the real him—even before his sword had tasted blood. But perhaps that Magnus had died the night when he’d shown her his true feelings. The mask he’d always worn had shattered, but a new one had grown, stronger and thicker than ever. He should be happy for this improvement. Instead, he felt nothing but grief for what had been lost.

“The love of a brother for his sister,” the king said from behind him. Magnus’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t tear his gaze from Lucia’s face. “It’s truly a beautiful thing.”

“She’s not improving.”

“She will.”

“How do you know for sure?” Magnus’s words were as sharp as his sword.

“I have faith, my son. She is exactly as the prophecy said she’d be—a sorceress unlike the world has seen in a thousand years.”

He struggled to swallow. “Or she’s merely a witch who’s now destroyed herself to help you gain your victory over Auranos.”

His father scoffed. “Magnus, you are such a pessimist. Just wait. Tomorrow I’ll address my new subjects and set their minds at ease about their future. Everyone is now an honorary citizen of Limeros. They will celebrate my victory.”

“And if they don’t, you’ll make sure they’re punished.”

“Can’t have any dissenters. Wouldn’t look very good, would it?”

“You don’t think anyone will oppose you?”

“Perhaps a few. I’ll be forced to make examples of them.”

His father’s calm demeanor about all of this was infuriating.

“Just a few? We’ve swept in here and killed their king, the eldest princess, and taken over their land—as well as murdering the Paelsian leader. You think they’ll all simply accept that?”

“We were not responsible for Princess Emilia’s death. So tragic that she was ill. I’d never kill an innocent girl. After all, her ongoing presence in the palace would have helped ease my way into the hearts of Auranos’s citizens.”

“And Princess Cleiona? What about her? She’s queen now.”

The king’s expression tightened. It was the first sign of strain Magnus had seen. “She’d be smart to come to me and beg for my protection.”

“Would you give it to her? Or slit her throat too?”

The king smiled—a cold smile—and put his arm around his son’s stiff shoulders. “Honestly, Magnus. Slit the throat of a sixteen-year-old girl? What kind of monster do you take me for?”

Something caught Magnus’s attention. Lucia’s eyelids fluttered. His breath caught. But after he’d waited a few moments, nothing more happened. The king tightened his grip on Magnus’s shoulder as if he guessed that he was now in great distress.

“It’s all right, son. She’ll recover in time. This is only temporary.”

“How do you know that?” His voice was strangled.

“Because the magic is still within her, and I’m not through with it yet. I need it to find the Kindred.” The king nodded with confidence, his expression very serious now. “Leave us, Magnus. I’ll sit with her.”

“But Father—”

“I said to go now.” There was no mistaking his firm tone. This was a non-negotiable request.

Magnus moved from the side of the bed and sent his father a dark look. “I’ll return.”

“I have no doubt that you will.”

He left the room and pressed his back up against the wall in the hallway outside. It was as if he’d been stabbed through his heart. If Lucia never awoke, then she was lost to him forever. Grief for the only person in the world he’d ever loved and who’d loved him in return buckled his knees.

He felt at his face, wondering what the hot dampness was. For a moment he thought he was bleeding.

Swearing under his breath, he pushed the tears away, vowing that they would be the last he ever shed. Strength, not weakness, was what he needed from this day forward.

K
ing Gaius stood on the castle balcony, looking down upon those gathered to hear him speak about his victory here in Auranos, a crowd of more than a thousand.

They were terrified of both him and his army that surrounded them, watching for any signs of trouble. Cleo drew the loose hood of her cloak closer to her face as she listened to this hateful man speak his lies and false promises with a smile on his face.

She was exhausted. All day and all night she’d stuck to the shadows of the walled palace city, now overrun by Limerian security. But no one paid much attention to a mere slip of a girl.

Whenever she began to lose faith, she touched the ring her father had given her for strength—her mother’s ring. The sorceress Eva’s ring.

Cleo’s kingdom had been torn from her. Her family was dead. She was alone. But she wasn’t ready to run yet. Nic and Mira hadn’t made it out of the castle in time. King Gaius had obviously extended his “generous” hospitality to them. They also stood on the balcony with him as Auranian representatives, looking pale and distraught but as brave as possible given the situation.

To see proof that they lived gave her a glimmer of hope that she could free them. She needed her friends at her side if she was going to come up with a plan to right what had gone so horribly wrong. It was her father’s last request.

Cleo refused to think she would fail.

Suddenly, she felt someone’s gaze hot on the side of her face. When she glanced to her left, her breath caught. Jonas Agallon, also cloaked, stood not a dozen feet from her. She feared he was about to raise an alarm when he touched his index finger to his lips.

The boy who had kidnapped her, imprisoned her, and let Prince Magnus know of her location so he could attempt to drag her to Limeros as a prisoner of war was telling her to keep quiet. To stay calm.

Cleo froze in place as he slid through the crowd, moving closer until he stood directly behind her.

“I mean you no harm,” he whispered.

She slowly turned to face him.

“I wish I could say the same.” She pressed the sharp tip of her dagger against his abdomen.

Instead of looking alarmed, he had the nerve to give her a small grin. “Nicely done.”

“You won’t be saying that when you’re bleeding to death.”

“No, I don’t suppose I will. You shouldn’t be here, your highness. You need to leave immediately.”

She glared at him and pressed her dagger closer to flesh to prove she wasn’t fooling around. “Says who? A Paelsian savage who pledges allegiance to the man who’s stolen my kingdom and destroyed my family?”

His jaw was tense. “No. A rebel who wants to bring an end to the King of Blood.” Ignoring the danger the dagger presented, he leaned forward to brush his lips against her ear. “One day very soon, be ready.”

She looked up at him with confusion as he slipped away from her. She immediately hid the dagger back under her cloak so no one would spot it. When she looked around again, Jonas was lost in the crowd.

“So you see”—King Gaius spoke loud and clear from his royal perch—“the future belongs to Limeros. And if you join me, it will belong to you as well.”

The crowd murmured with displeasure, but the king’s smile only grew wider.

“I know you’re concerned for the safety of your princess Cleiona. Rumors abound that she was killed. I assure you, that’s not the case. She’s safe and well and shall soon be my guest at the palace. Consider this an act of generosity to show that I am benevolent toward all Auranians during this transition.”

Cleo frowned with confusion. How could he say those things? She wasn’t his guest.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” a hatefully familiar voice said. She looked to her right with alarm to see that Prince Magnus now stood next to her.

Before she could reach for her dagger again, two guards grabbed her arms and held her firmly in place. Prince Magnus drew closer and slid his hand under her cloak to locate her weapon. He eyed it with disinterest.

“Unhand me,” she demanded.

“Didn’t you hear my father?” Magnus asked with a glance up to the balcony before his brown eyes flicked to hers. “You’re cordially invited to be our guest. My father doesn’t take disappointment well, so I advise you to accept as gracefully as possible.” His dark brows drew together as he studied her. “I know this must be a very difficult time for you.”

She spat at him. “I will see you dead.”

He wiped the spit away, and then grasped her chin. His gaze turned to ice. “And I, princess, will see you at dinner.” He nodded to the guards. “Bring her in.”

Holding her arms tightly, the guards marched Cleo toward the palace. As much as she wanted to fight, to scream, Cleo kept her head haughtily high. She would be fierce. This particular fate could ultimately serve her well. Inside the palace, she would be reunited with Nic and Mira. Together they would find a way to escape. They would figure out how to use her mother’s ring to locate the Kindred. With it, she would possess more than enough power to take back Auranos and vanquish their enemies forever.

Jonas had told her to be ready, but for what? She didn’t trust him. A few words spoken in a conspiratorial whisper changed nothing. For all she knew, he was the one to tip Magnus off about her presence in the crowd.

In any case, her fight was not over yet—not nearly over. It had only begun. And yes, Cleo
would
be strong. Just as her father and Emilia had asked her to be.

She would be strong.

She would reclaim her rightful throne.

She would be queen.