Gathering Darkness (29 page)

Cleo groaned. “You are the most frustrating person I've ever known.”

“More frustrating than Jonas Agallon?” Magnus frowned. “I've met him, you know, so I find that hard to believe. He's quite frustrating.”

He still believed she'd met with Jonas—had aided Jonas and the rebels—despite her adamant denials. She couldn't possibly reveal the truth now; it would serve no purpose at all. Her dealings with the rebel would be her secret . . . and Nerissa's and Nic's.

“You believe I helped a rebel and yet you still spared my life. You must want something—something beyond that crystal. Beyond my help in finding Lucia.”

His eyes flashed with sudden anger. “What do you care for Lucia, anyway? You said she tried to kill you.”

Back in Lucia's chambers, Cleo had been certain she was going to die. She hadn't been able to breathe or move; she'd been helpless before the sorceress's rage. Still, she couldn't hate Lucia. In fact, she actually welled up with pity for the girl. There was so much magic inside of her, enough to drown her if she wasn't careful. “I care about Lucia. I do. And I don't want anything bad to happen to her. Now, answer me, Magnus. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Then
why
? Give me one good reason why you wouldn't let Cronus kill me.”

Contrary to what she'd expected, Magnus didn't storm from the room, nor did he drag her out of it and slam the door in her face. He just stood there, arms at his sides, his attention fixed on something on the wall over her shoulder. His expression was pained, as if he couldn't quite bear to look directly at her.

“You really want to know?” he asked.

“Yes. I really do.”

He was silent for so long that she wasn't sure he'd ever speak again.

“My whole life, all I wanted was to be like my father,” he began in a monotone voice. “I've wanted to follow in his footsteps, to be strong. Smart. Resourceful. Cunning. Intimidating. Ruthless. To be respected and feared. To have his power and influence. What else is there for someone like me—the heir to his throne? Without that to aspire to, I have nothing. I am nothing.”

What a thing to say. He'd been raised as a prince, brought up in privilege—he should have more of a sense of self-worth than this. “You're wrong.”

He held up a hand to silence her. “I've always been told I look like him, sound like him . . . I essentially
am
him. But no matter how hard I try, I always fail. Because at my core, where I need to be the strongest, I'm weak.”

Cleo kept quiet now, listening carefully. Barely breathing.

“You want to know why I did what I did?” His dark brows drew together as if he were only now allowing himself to consider this question. “It's fairly simple, actually. It's because, without your bravery in the face of all that's happened to you, without your constant scheming behind my back, without that fire of hatred and contempt and
hope
in your eyes when you look at me . . .” He hissed out a breath. “In the shadow my father has cast over my entire life, you are the only light I can see anymore. And, whatever the cost, I refuse to let that light be extinguished.”

All she could do was stare at him until he scowled and turned away.

“Satisfied, princess? Now, stop asking me stupid questions.”

As soon as her shock began to fade, an uncontrollable rise of laughter escaped her throat. As she laughed, he cast a look at her and a flash of pain crossed his face before he could shutter it off.

“That's right, princess. Laugh at me. It is funny, after all.”

She laughed until tears flowed down her cheeks, hysterical now. Gasping for breath. “It's just . . . what Nic said once . . .”

“And what, pray tell, did Nic say?”

Cleo sobered quickly as an invisible hand clutched her throat, squeezing hard, making it nearly impossible to breathe. “That he thought I was falling in love with you.”

Magnus stared at her. “What an idiotic thing for him to say.”

“I know. Because I'm not. Never. How could I be? I hate you.”

And then she was kissing him, and she wasn't even sure who approached whom first. It had happened so quickly, and there was no way to stop it. His lips crushed against hers, her hands twisting into his shirt, sliding over his shoulders, and up to tangle into his hair. He pulled her closer, until there was no space between them at all.

It was desperate, this kiss. Violent, even.

But of course it was. It had been building up between them for such a long time, as the battle about this boy who had destroyed her life had raged inside her. This boy who had saved her life, who was cruel and kind, strong and weak. Who was selfish and selfless all at once.

This boy who had, in a single moment of fear and weakness, taken someone so special from her. She knew she could never forgive him for that. This was the boy she was forced to marry in a destroyed temple, surrounded by dead bodies and an ocean of blood.

This was the boy who now kissed her without reservation, as if he were dying and she was air itself.

A sharp knock at the door made her gasp and pull away from him. She stared up into his eyes as she touched her swollen lips. He looked back at her, no invisible mask in place now to cover his shock.

Finally he turned away and went to the door. He opened it up with such force that she was surprised he didn't tear it from its hinges.

Princess Amara stood at the doorway, a smile on her lips. She glanced past Magnus at Cleo.

“Did I interrupt anything?” she asked. “Apologies, of course. But this couldn't wait.”

It took Cleo a moment to fully register the fact that the princess was standing right there in front of her. Here, on the other side of Mytica, in the house of a woman they'd met by chance.

This couldn't be real.

“What are you doing here?” Magnus asked. “How did you find us?”

She shrugged. “I'm very good at negotiations. People spill many secrets for the right amount of gold. And here we are. If both of you could come downstairs with me, that would be lovely.”

“What's downstairs?” Cleo asked guardedly, though she knew whatever it was couldn't be good.

She knew that Amara had followed them, just as they'd followed Lucia.

“Come and see.”

Cleo didn't like the sound of that, but she had no choice but to do as the princess requested.

Standing in Lady Sophia's central hall were six green-uniformed Kraeshian guards, along with Prince Ashur and . . .
Nic
?

There he was, hunched over, his hands bound behind his back.

“Nic!” Cleo surged forward, but a guard put out an arm to stop her from getting too close. “What have they done to you? Are you all right?”

“Cleo,” he managed, casting a hateful look at Ashur and Amara. “I'm alive, so that's a start.”

Another guard held a pale and trembling Lady Sophia by the arm. Cleo's heart twisted for the kind woman who hadn't done anything to deserve this rough treatment.

“What is this?” Magnus asked, his tone edged with warning.

“Another of my negotiations.” Amara moved toward Ashur. “And one we had to come all the way to Limeros to discuss, which is unfortunate. This is not a place I'd ever choose to come to if I had any say in the matter. But here we are.”

“A negotiation about what?”

“We tried to do this the pleasant way. We offered Cleo an alliance, but we couldn't wait forever for a reply, could we? And Magnus—I did what I could to gain your confidence, but I knew your heart wasn't in it. Too bad. I don't waste my time or attention on boys I can't manipulate.”

“We're all here in search of the same thing,” Ashur said. His gray-blue eyes were steely, and fixed on Cleo in particular. “The Kindred.”

The prince was as cold and calculating as his sister, and every bit as greedy. Even if Cleo had agreed to their terms, she wouldn't have been able to trust them. The moment they got what they wanted, they would have betrayed her.

She caught Nic's gaze and searched his face for injury, but saw nothing. Even the bruises and cuts from the guards' horrible beating had faded in the time that had passed.

I'm so sorry, Nic
, she told him silently.
This is all my fault.

The Kraeshians knew how important he was to her. Now they would shamelessly use that knowledge to manipulate her.

“The Kindred?” Magnus said. “Sorry to disappoint, but we're in pursuit of my sister, who has unwisely chosen to elope with her tutor. We want to stop her from doing something she'll regret for the rest of her life.”

“Of course. Her tutor.” Amara nodded. “First, let's get one thing straight—I know what Lucia is and what she can do. Second, I know about the earth Kindred at the Temple of Cleiona and how you failed to claim it first. So. Let's proceed, shall we?”

“Nic . . .” Magnus said slowly. “You're not so skilled at keeping secrets, are you?”

Nic ignored him. “Let Cleo go. I'll do whatever you want.”

“You've served your purpose already,” Ashur said, his tone cold. “You've ceased to matter.”

“Now,” Amara said, her smile returning. “There's no need for argument. We're certain you're here for another crystal that Lucia has located. We want it, and you will lead us to it.”

“Nic stays here with the woman,” Ashur said, nodding at Lady Sophia. “We'll leave a guard behind to watch over them and make sure they cause no problems.”

“Speaking of guards,” Magnus said. “I have a few of my own, you know. They should be here any moment.”

Cleo eyed him, but stayed silent. He was bluffing. No guards had accompanied them from Auranos. They were on their own with no protection.

“Let them come,” Amara said. “I'll offer them so much gold I can guarantee that they'll give me no reason to spill any more blood tonight than necessary.”

Magnus's expression grew dark, but he offered no rebuttal.

“Let's move this along.” Ashur nodded at a guard.

The guard put the edge of his sword to Nic's throat, and Cleo couldn't hold back a shriek. “Don't! Spare him, please.”

“You'll take us to the crystal,” Ashur said.

She was about to speak, to tell them everything to save her friend, but Magnus spoke first.

“Very well. We'll go at first light,” he said.

“No,” Ashur replied. “We'll go now. All we need to know is where.”

Magnus gave him a look sharp enough to kill, but said nothing.

Amara nodded at the guard with Nic. “Cut his throat.”

“No, wait!” Cleo shrieked. “Don't hurt him, please! The Temple of Valoria, that's where the crystal is. But know that we have no guarantee that Lucia hasn't already been there and claimed it.”

“It's a chance we're willing to take.” Ashur gestured toward the guard, who finally released Nic.

She had to speak, she had to tell them what they wanted to know. Nic's life was worth more to her than one crystal.

“Then let's be on our way.” Amara went to Magnus, reached up to grasp his chin, and pulled it down until he met her gaze. “Don't underestimate what I'm willing to do to get what I want. And what I want is the Kindred—even one quarter of it will do for now. I will kill to get it. Do you understand me?”

“Oh, yes, princess,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “I understand you more than you know.”

Amara sent a poisonous look at Cleo. “See how much better it could have been if you'd embraced me as a friend?”

“I'd rather embrace a boil-covered pig,” Cleo replied. “Which would actually be a pleasant alternative to you.”

Amara laughed, then nodded at the guard holding Lady Sophia. “You stay. The rest of you, come with us. And Cleo, Magnus . . . if you behave yourselves, I may even let you live to see the sunrise.”

JONAS

PAELSIA

I
mmediately after claiming the earth Kindred on behalf of the princess, Jonas, Lysandra, and Felix had set their sights on the next two.

Jonas hadn't sent a message to Cleo yet. He wanted to have all three crystals in hand, to show her he was worthy of her trust.

He wasn't entirely sure why proving himself to her mattered so much to him.

Claiming the air crystal at Chief Basilius's abandoned compound had gone just as smoothly as at the claiming at the temple, even though the compound held memories just as painful. That was where the Paelsian slaves had risen up against the abusive Limerian guards, triggering a massacre just moments before a tornado had torn across the dusty land.

That was in the past now. Jonas knew he had to focus on the future.

Within the compound, dirt paths led off to a labyrinth of small stone cottages with the chief's large villa in the center. They chose to draw the symbol in the clearing where the chief's bonfires, feasts, and nightly entertainment had been held.

“I want to do it this time,” Felix had insisted.

He held the blade to his forearm, made a shallow slice, then flexed his arm out, allowing his blood to drip onto the cracked dry ground. He smeared it with his fingertips to create a spiral symbol, then stood up and wrapped his arm with a cloth.

Lysandra clutched Jonas's shoulder as a breeze picked up, circling around them in a sudden whirlwind that made Jonas's breath catch in his chest.

“Over there.” Lysandra pointed at the chief's bonfire pit, which was now only a scorched circle in the center of the clearing.

A small sphere had appeared, sunlight glinting off its pearly-white surface.

Moonstone.

The air Kindred.

The sight of it alone was akin to the sweet taste of victory after so many bitter failures.

Felix picked it up without hesitation, grinning from ear to ear. “Nice.”

He tossed it to Jonas, who caught it and looked down at the smooth surface of the orb. Like the earth Kindred, there was a sliver of darkness inside, swirling around in an endless cycle.

Lysandra glanced at Jonas. “So where are we headed next?”

“The mountains,” Jonas told her, more determined now than ever.

Jonas led them along the path of the Blood Road to the camp he'd attacked along with his group of rebels in the ominous shadow of the Forbidden Mountains, a camp now cleared away with nothing there to remind him of his crushing defeat except for the charred ground surrounding the road.

Here Lysandra insisted on using her blood to draw the symbol for fire.

But nothing happened.

Jonas tried, then Felix.

Nothing.

“Looks like someone beat us to it,” Felix said.

But who? All Jonas knew was that he wasn't ready to give up yet. They had to keep trying. And so they did, staying there in the barren and deserted east of Paelsia for two days before they'd exhausted all other options. They finally gave up and headed back to Auranos, disappointed at their failure.

Two crystals out of three, Jonas thought. It would have to do.

• • •

Jonas knew they couldn't continue to use the Silver Toad as a meeting place. But he had to pay one last visit there to see if any new messages had been delivered in the week he'd been away.

“I'm starving,” Felix said as he pushed the front door open. “Let's stay and eat. There's a nice private table in that dark corner over there. Just keep your hoods up, both of you.”

“Wearing our hoods in a tavern won't make us look at all suspicious, will it?” Lysandra replied.

Jonas wouldn't have agreed to this, but the tavern was nearly vacant, save for two tables occupied by drunk and oblivious patrons.

They would eat, and then they'd move on.

“We'll face the wall,” Jonas said, managing a grin. “Since you're not lucky enough to be as famous as me and Lys, you can be our lookout.”

Lysandra would now be recognizable to anyone who'd been close enough to see her face the day of the attempted executions. And this was their second time in the tavern as a trio.

“Happy to oblige.” Felix took his seat and signaled to the barkeep for drinks. “Tonight we should have a chat about what we're going to do with those two crystals now that we're back in Auranos. We could earn ourselves a life's worth of gold with those two pretty pieces.”

“Even though we don't know how they work.”

“A small inconvenience,” Felix allowed.

They'd inspected the two crystals for hours, trying to figure out how to harness their magic. All they'd done was waste time and energy.

Jonas didn't doubt what they were, but accessing their magic was beyond him.

Which was fine with him. Just because he believed in magic now didn't mean he wanted any part of it.

He wasn't looking forward to Felix's chat. He knew that the discussion of whether to sell the crystals to one of Felix's mysterious contacts or hand them over to Princess Cleo would be less of a talk, and more of a heated debate.

He slid his hand over the two crystals in the leather pouch he had tied to his wrist. They wouldn't leave his sight, not for a moment.

Their fate would be his decision and nobody else's.

Galyn, the tavern owner and friend of the rebels, brought drinks—three ales and no wine this time, which pleased Lysandra.

“Welcome back,” Galyn said quietly. “It's good to see you again.”

“You too.” It was a relief to see the younger, heavyset man rather than his exuberantly loud, white-haired father, Bruno.” Do you have any messages for me?”

Galyn shook his head. “None, although your pretty, young friend has come here several times these last few days. With the recent rumors I've heard about happenings in the City of Gold, I'm sure she has some new information to impart, but she hasn't left a single message with me.”

Jonas stared at him. “What recent developments?”

Galyn lowered his voice further. “Apparently, Princess Lucia has run away from the palace with her tutor. The king is furious, and now tears apart every town and village in the kingdom searching for her.”

“So the princess's idiotic romantic decisions will mean pain and death for many,” Lysandra said with disgust. “The selfish decisions of these vain royals never fail to sicken me.”

No one spoke up to argue with her opinion.

“The palace is in disarray,” Galyn continued. “Because of this, and, of course, because of the disappearance of Prince Magnus and Princess Cleiona.”

Jonas suddenly couldn't find his voice.

“What do you mean, ‘disappearance'?” Felix asked.

“I mean, rumor has it they're gone without a trace. Some say that the king went mad and put them both—his heir and his heir's wife—to death. Frankly, I wouldn't put it past him.”

Cleo was missing . . . possibly dead?
It couldn't be.

Had she been exposed as a spy? She'd sent him two messages, the second only a week ago. Could that be related to this?

Jonas had to know more. If this was true, and if she was still alive, he had to find her.

He lurched up from the table.

“Sit down,” Felix said.

His throat was tight and painful. “I have to go.”

“Not yet.”

“What?”

“Someone just walked through the door and I'm pretty sure you're going to want to talk to her.”

Jonas turned, peering past the edge of his hood to see Nerissa entering the tavern. She scanned it, deep relief crossing her face when she spotted him. She hurriedly approached their table as Galyn excused himself

“Thank the goddess you're here,” she said, grasping Jonas's hands.

His heart pounded. “I just heard about the princess . . . that she's missing. Is it true?”

“May I speak with you in private?”

Jonas was about to protest, to say that anything that had to be said could be said in front of his friends, but he held his tongue. After all, there could be others listening.

“Go,” Lysandra said. “And make haste.”

He guided Nerissa out of the main tavern and toward the staircase leading to the inn.

“This is private enough.” She looked around nervously at the small alcove.

“Is it true about Princess Cleo?” Jonas demanded.

“She's gone, Jonas. No one knows where.”

“And Prince Magnus.”

“Him too. It's a mystery, but I know this much. Two guards were slain in the dungeon, including the captain of the guard. It happened while they were on duty . . . watching Cleo, whom the king imprisoned for treason.”

The world before Jonas's eyes blurred and darkened. “And now she and the boy she was forced to marry are missing.”

“Yes.”

“And the king? What is his reaction to this?”

“I have no way of knowing. He's in seclusion. But I have heard that he fears Prince Magnus may have been taken hostage, or murdered, by whoever helped the princess escape. And Jonas . . . well,
you
have been named as the main suspect.”

Any other day, he might have found this amusing. Here he was, accused of yet another crime he didn't commit.

Nerissa's face was pale, worried. “I can't stay, Jonas. And I won't be able to meet you again for some time. They're looking at everyone in the palace with suspicion.”

“Thank you for sharing what you know. I know how dangerous this is for you.” His mind was in turmoil, unsure how to process this information. He'd once hated this royal girl beyond any other . . . yet now he found his world turned upside down at the thought that she'd been in grave danger—that she was
still
in grave danger—and he hadn't been able to do a thing to help her.

Nerissa clutched his arm, drawing his attention back to the present. “There's something else I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“It's about your new friend, Felix.”

“Felix?” Jonas frowned, trying to concentrate. “What about him?”

“Our first meeting gave a bad first impression.”

“And here I thought you two hit it off well enough.”

“I know men, Jonas. I know when they're hiding something. And I saw that in his eyes. I also saw that you trusted him, which worried me. So I did some digging, and I found some information.” She hesitated. “You're not going to like it.”

Jonas looked her right in her eyes, steeling himself for more bad news.

“Tell me,” he said.

• • •

Nerissa shared her information with him, then promptly left.

Jonas returned to the tavern and swept his gaze across the large room. Felix was at the bar, talking to Galyn. Lysandra still sat at the table in the dark corner, studying the wall and sipping from her tankard of ale.

“Lys,” he called to her. She glanced over at him and he signaled for her to follow him.

He led her back to the alcove where he'd spoken with Nerissa, only this time he went up the staircase. He found a vacant room on the second floor, and pulled Lysandra into it with him, closing the door behind them.

She eyed him with wariness. “What's happened? Did Nerissa deliver bad news about the princess?”

“Yes, but I can't deal with that right now.
We have a more immediate problem.”

“What is it?”

“Nerissa doesn't trust Felix.”

“That makes two of us,” she said, but then grimaced. “Sorry. I know you've come to consider him a true friend. I must learn to respect that. And, really, he isn't nearly as smarmy as I first thought.”

He hissed out a breath. “He works for King Gaius.”

Lysandra stared at him with shock. “What?”

She looked as blindsided as he'd felt when Nerissa told him. “He said he was raised by a group of cutthroats who worked for a rich boss, right? Well, that rich boss was the king. He's a hired assassin for the King of Blood.” Jonas's anger had started slowly, as cold shock, but had built quickly into something practically tangible, something he could hold onto. “That's how he found me. Five weeks ago he was at the palace to receive his most recent assignment—to track me down and bring my head to the king.”

“Wait. But—but he didn't do that. You've been with him all this time and he hasn't made a single move, right?” Lysandra gripped Jonas's arms. “Maybe she's wrong.”

He was furious with himself for being stupid enough to trust someone he barely knew.

Nerissa's information had resonated with him. It finally filled in the blanks that Jonas had been trying to ignore about his new friend.

He believed Nerissa.

“He's waiting for something.” Jonas shook his head. “Now that I have the crystals . . . Cleo told me the king was after the Kindred—after magic. That is his goal. Do you have any idea what the king would pay for even one of those crystals? And do you know what he'd do with that kind of power if he's able figure out how to harness it?”

“Jonas, please calm down. Losing your head isn't going to help.”

“Nice choice of words.” He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “You were right not to trust him. You sensed something, didn't you? Something
off
.”

“I did. But—I mean, I'll admit I don't trust easily.”

“Neither do I. Not normally. Damn it, I don't have time to deal with this. I need to start searching for the princess . . .”

“Forget the princess for a minute. What do we do now, with Felix? Confront him?”

Jonas began pacing the room. “I will confront him, but not right now.”

“Why? What are you waiting for?”

He met her gaze. “Because first I need you to leave.”

She looked at him with confusion. “Why would I do that?”

It would be great if once, just once, someone would do as he asked without arguing. “Because he's dangerous.”