Gathering Darkness (7 page)

“Apologies if they seemed rude,” Cleo said. “They're just a small part of the group I used to socialize with. Perhaps they're confused and hurt because they haven't received an invitation to the palace in so long.”

Nor will they ever again
, Lucia thought. “Are you very close with them?”

“Can we ever really have friends outside the palace we can truly trust?”

No. They couldn't. Lucia hadn't had many female friends in Limeros, as her father had kept her sheltered from petty socializing. Instead, she formed bonds with her tutors, as well as a few potential suitors from noble families she'd met at banquets and formal events. And, of course, Magnus.

A lump formed in Lucia's throat. She used to consider Magnus not only her older brother, but her dearest friend. The cold way he treated her now pained her deeply.

But she couldn't love him the way he wanted her to. And everything she'd done or said since his confession had only damaged their relationship more.

“Lucia?” Cleo squeezed her arm. “It feels like you're a thousand miles away. Are you feeling all right?”

Somehow the princess's touch helped chase the darkness away. “I'm fine. The heat, though. It's rather oppressive, isn't it?”

“It is quite warm today. Let's stop for a while.” Cleo smiled. “I know the perfect place to rest.”

She led the way down a narrow cobblestone street filled with shops, then turned along an alley. It led them away from the business area and toward a tree-lined clearing. The grassy field was the size of the palace courtyard, at least a hundred paces in diameter, around which were arranged benches shaded by tall, leafy trees.

“My friends and I used to come here often,” Cleo explained. “Quite excellent entertainment, I must say.”

All around the clearing, at least two dozen handsome young men practiced swordsmanship with wooden blades. Roped off to the side was another area where they wrestled hand to hand. Most were laughing, their faces dirty, as they flexed their muscles and darted around one another.

“They're not wearing shirts,” Lucia observed with surprise.

Cleo grinned at her. “No, they aren't.”

Lucia didn't know of anything like this in Limeros.

“Should we be watching this?” she asked.

“Why not? Trust me, they like to be watched. It'll make them fight harder.”

Around the circumference of the field small crowds looked on with great interest.

“Guard! Fetch us something cool to drink,” Cleo said. “There's a tavern at the end of the lane that stocks the strawberry wine I like.”

The guard looked to Lucia, who nodded with approval. Strawberry wine sounded like an excellent idea. “Go ahead.”

“Yes, your highness,” the guard said, then hurried off.

“So, what do you think?” Cleo asked.

Lucia followed Cleo's lead and took a seat at the edge of the field beneath a tall oak tree and took in the activities before her. The thought of her father's disapproval of all of this amused her. This was an unnecessary display, nothing more than an excuse to show off, and Limerians had always frowned upon vanity. “They seem rather good.”

Cleo nodded. “I'm happy to see this practice has continued on. It used to be that off-duty Auranian guards would teach local boys these skills. Now it seems as if the boys are teaching themselves.”

“Auranian boys learning battle skills. For what purpose?” Lucia asked, skeptical. “To mount a rebellion against my father?”

Cleo laughed lightly and Lucia eyed her, uncertain what had been so funny. “No, believe me, this is just for fun. I've known boys like these all my life. Beyond little tournaments to draw the attentions of pretty girls, they aren't interested in battle. Besides, if the king saw this as a threat, I have no doubt he'd put a stop to it.”

This was true. And Lucia had to admit, the display before her was certainly . . . entertaining.

Still, even now, amidst the sunshine and greenery and handsome young men, Lucia felt the darkness of her magic stirring within her. It was always with her, ever present, but when she was with Cleo it didn't torment her as much as it did when she was alone.

Elemental magic should be natural and beautiful, like life itself. But whenever Lucia let it take over, it seemed to lead only to pain and death.

And part of her, a very small part, didn't mind this at all.

The thought made her tremble.

Cleo reached over and squeezed her hand, the warmth of her skin sinking into Lucia's cool flesh. Immediately, her dark thoughts vanished, as if by magic itself.

She glanced up at the sky, shielding her eyes. A golden hawk flew high above, and her heart jumped at the sight. She'd seen many hawks over the last few weeks. Every one of them gave her a gift of hope, which would then slip away through her fingers like sand.

“You seem so sad today,” Cleo said. “Tell me what's troubling you.”

Lucia laughed quietly at Cleo's continued attempts to be friends with her. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Do you think Magnus would approve of you coming here to look at these shirtless boys?” Lucia asked wryly, attempting to change the subject and regain control.

A shadow passed behind Cleo's blue-green eyes. “You'd have to ask Magnus.”

That would require Lucia to track him down and talk to him, something he would likely avoid at all costs.

“Do you feel anything at all for him?” Lucia asked.

Cleo paused. “It was an arranged marriage, Lucia. I didn't choose him, nor did he choose me.”

“If I were you, I'd hate him.” Her words came out more bluntly, and were more truthful, than she'd wanted them to be. Perhaps it was a sign she'd grown more comfortable around Cleo after all. “I'd hate all of us. My hate would burn brighter every day I was forced to sit next to my enemies.” Her throat felt tight and strained. “You must understand why I'm guarded around you. I have no real reason to trust that your intentions are for friendship rather than revenge.”

“You're absolutely right. You don't.” Cleo's eyes glistened and she squeezed them shut. “But what choice do I have but to accept what's happened and try to make the best of it?”

That felt honest to Lucia. Cleo hadn't tried to deny her suspicions, but did Lucia blame her for feeling and acting this way? Did she really think Cleo was anything other than a lost girl searching for some kind of connection, even with those who'd stolen so much from her?

The question was, could she be a friend? A
true
friend Lucia could trust with her deepest, darkest secrets?

Lucia bit her bottom lip and focused on the boys in front of her, but eventually her gaze drifted back up to the hawk circling in the sky.

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

“Yes,” Cleo said after a moment, softly.

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

Dozens of questions rose up inside Lucia.
Dead?
How? An accident? In battle? Was it Lord Aron she spoke of, or someone else?

She waited for the heart-wrenching story to come pouring out, but Cleo said nothing further about it. In the silence, Lucia felt the overwhelming urge to share her own loss with someone who might understand.

“In my life, I've only truly loved one boy.” Lucia shook her head, nearly amused.
Boy
seemed such a trivial description for him. “Do you . . . believe in Watchers?”

“Yes.”

So many people would scoff at such things, but Cleo's quick, definitive answer and calm expression held the same gravity that Lucia felt in her heart.

She'd told no one this before. No one.

And now the words surged forth before she could stop them.

“When I was trapped in sleep, a Watcher named Alexius visited my dreams. He was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. He promised to visit me again after I woke, but I haven't seen him since. And now . . . now I'm not sure if he was ever real to begin with.”

It wasn't until she felt the dampness on her cheeks that she realized she was crying. As she remembered the last time she'd seen him, the kiss they'd shared, pain wrenched through her heart, and the heavy darkness within her grew.

Just then, lightning crackled above the field as dark storm clouds gathered, blocking the sun. Thunder rolled, and the rain began to pour. The boys looked up with surprise, their hair and clothes drenched in seconds.

“Princess, we must go now,” a guard urged.

Lucia looked up at the clouds with surprise. Auranos rarely experienced anything but perfect, temperate weather.

“Did you do that?” Cleo whispered.

“I don't know.” Her
elementia
gave her the power to do so many incredible things—both wonderful and fearsome—but to control weather itself . . .

The thought was just as frightening as it was exciting.

Cleo linked her arm with Lucia's as they stood up together. “I know what it's like to love someone different from you. Someone others might look down upon or deny you. It causes more pain than happiness, especially if the one you love is stolen from you too soon.”

“Yes,” Lucia whispered.

“Before my father died, he told me to believe in magic. And that's what I do. I believe in things other people think are impossible, and it makes me strong enough to face whatever comes next. I believe that your Alexius is real and that right this moment he's thinking about how much he misses you.”

Lucia couldn't deny it. Cleo was getting to her, breaking through that dark wall that surrounded her.

Believe in magic. Believe in the impossible.

Believe, tentatively, in this fragile new friendship with Cleo.

And believe that one day she'd see Alexius again.

ALEXIUS

THE SANCTUARY

I
n the two thousand years Alexius had existed, he'd never wanted anything as much as this.

He lay back in the grass of his favorite meadow with his eyes closed and reached out through the darkness, searching for her.

Where are you?

No answer. He tried until his head ached, until his body felt weak. Until he was so frustrated he could scream. But once again it didn't work.

The princess was lost to him—out somewhere in the mortal world, alone with no one to guide or protect her.

The thought made him laugh, and the sound rumbled deep in his chest.

Protect her.

“Alexius.”

He jumped to his feet at the sound of Timotheus's voice.

“Greetings,” he managed to say through his hoarse throat. He hadn't spoken aloud all day.

Timotheus, Alexius's friend and mentor, as well as one of the Three that made up the council of elders, regarded Alexius with his arms crossed and patience in his golden eyes. “Am I interrupting your daily meditation? Or were you attempting to dreamwalk?”

“Neither,” he lied. “I was only resting.” To admit he was trying to visit the dreams of a mortal would only spark additional questions. Questions he couldn't answer.

“There's something different about you,” Timotheus said, walking a slow circle around Alexius as he studied his tall, lean frame. “I've noticed for many months now, ever since you began spending so much time with Melenia.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Be wary of her.”

A bolt of worry struck Alexius, and he fought to hide it from his face. “I'm wary of everyone here in the Sanctuary.”

“That makes you wise.”

“Are you just out for a stroll? Or did you come here looking for me?”

“Neither. I'm looking for Phaedra. She's still missing.”

To hear the name of his dearest friend was an unexpected blow. “I know.”

“Do you know where she disappeared to?”

“No.”

Timotheus didn't break eye contact. Despite their centuries of friendship, despite all the guidance and knowledge the elder had shared, Alexius still had secrets he needed to keep from him.

Horrible secrets.

“I believe Melenia has something to do with her disappearance,” Timotheus said. “You might ask her about it the next time you see her, which I presume will be today?”

Alexius chose not to confirm this. “I'll be sure to ask her the next time I see her.”

Rumors had begun to spread across the Crystal City that he was their fair leader's newest lover, a designation that drew stares of envy and jealousy from his fellow immortals everywhere he went.

But that rumor couldn't be further from the truth.

“I should be leaving now.” Alexius tensed up as Timotheus clasped his shoulder, concern clouding his eternally youthful face.

“Alexius, you can trust me with any secret. Just as you always have. I hope you know that. If there is anything you need to tell me, don't hesitate.”

Alexius smiled and nodded, wishing it were that simple.

• • •

He needed to know what had happened to Phaedra. The question ate away at him anew as he journeyed to the top of the crystal palace to meet Melenia. The beautiful Watcher greeted him with a smile, opening her golden doors wide to allow him entry into her chambers, which were full of light and the beautiful flowers that were picked daily by her obedient minions.

“You're early,” she said, kissing him on both cheeks before she closed the doors. Her long, flowing, flaxen hair smelled like warm saffron and reflected the light from the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out on the rest of the city where the immortals made their home.

He hadn't taken more than a step inside the room before he brought up the troubling subject. “I need to know about Phaedra.”

“She has disappeared.”

“I know that much. Is she still alive?”

Melenia blinked once. “My goodness, Alexius. What is the meaning of this? You don't think I had something to do with her disappearance, do you?”

He summoned all the courage he could. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. I know you thought she was a problem, that she knew too much and was dangerously close to learning more.”

“And for this offense you think I . . . what? Murdered her?” She smiled sweetly. “I assure you, I haven't touched a single hair on her head.”

“But you know what happened to her.”

“Come and sit. We have much to discuss today. Unfortunately, it will have to wait until I finish with my other visitor.”

“Other visitor?”

There was a knock at the door. “Yes. Danaus desperately wanted to speak with me today.”

Danaus, the final member of the Three, was a vastly unpleasant immortal whom Alexius habitually avoided. “Don't let him in.”

“Don't be silly. Actually, I need him today.”

With a clenched jaw, Alexius watched as Melenia practically floated across the silver floor inlaid with sparkling jewels. Her diamond-beaded gown was made from fabric that seemed spun from platinum, and her long, wavy hair shone in different shades of gold. She was the most beautiful Watcher of all.

How Alexius had come to hate her.

She opened the door to Danaus. “Oh,” his voice boomed. “I see you're not alone.”

“No.” She held the door open wider and gestured him inside. “But come in. Please, I insist.”

Danaus might have been every bit as beautiful as any of their kind, but his eternally sour expression made him ugly to Alexius. Danaus regarded him now with clear disdain. “Alexius isn't one of us,” he said.

“Of course he is. Don't be rude, Danaus. It doesn't become you. Please say what you came here to say. It's clear that it troubles you deeply.”

“Very well.” He hissed out a breath of impatience. “I've received word from a scout that one of our exiles has been using his magic to help the mortal king build a road. I believe Xanthus was one of your most devoted minions, wasn't he?”

Alexius nearly flinched at the name of Phaedra's brother, gone from the Sanctuary for twenty years. He'd once been Melenia's lover, and her most favored and gifted protégé. She'd coached him in ways unlike she had anyone else in the Sanctuary, which had caused everyone, Alexius included, to suspect and envy him.

Now he knew better than to envy anyone this immortal singled out. Now he pitied those she hand-selected. Including himself.

“The pretty spider in her silvery web, spinning tales to wind around us all.”

It was a warning from Phaedra that he'd ignored. She had been smarter than anyone had suspected.

Melenia nodded. “I remember Xanthus very well.”

Danaus pursed his lips, clearly annoyed that this news did not incense her. “I believe someone here in the Sanctuary is visiting him in his dreams, guiding his actions.”

Her brows arched. “Really. Who?”

“I don't know yet.”

Despite Danaus's ancient age and vast wealth of knowledge, he really was deeply stupid. But perhaps Alexius was dismissing him too soon. Like Timotheus, he was an elder. If only Alexius could find a way to meet with them privately, to tell them what Melenia planned behind their backs, that would be two against one . . .

The rebellious thought caused a sudden, intense pain to blossom in the center of his chest. Unlike the vague pang of guilt or regret, this was a literal pain, brought on by the obedience spell Melenia had placed on him to ensure his loyalty. He'd been fighting it for weeks now, but had recently found that it was unbreakable. He groaned audibly, relenting to it.

“Everything all right with you, boy?” Danaus asked, eyeing him warily.

“Of course,” he replied, steeling himself until the pain began to fade.

“Ignore him, Danaus, and let me tell you exactly who is guiding Xanthus,” Melenia said, her voice calm and even. “I'm already well aware of what's been going on, and I know who accesses his dreams.”

His expression filled with wonder. “Who?”

“Me.” She smiled. A hint of wickedness flashed in her sapphire-blue eyes.

Alexius was beyond shocked. Why would Melenia share such a valuable secret with the immortal she'd professed to trust the least?

“What?” Danaus stepped forward, leaving little space between himself and Melenia. “That's impossible. We elders can't dreamwalk.”

“
You
can't. But I can,” she said. “I visit the dreams of both Xanthus and the mortal King Gaius. They are both part of my carefully crafted plan. The king wants the Kindred for himself, so much that he's willing to do anything, say anything,
be
anything to get them in his greedy hands. And it's because of this greed that, out of anyone I've ever come across, he's been the easiest to manipulate. Even now, he eagerly awaits my next instructions in another dream.”

Danaus's eyes flashed with envy. “How is such a thing possible? You must tell me. To escape this place if only through someone else's mind . . . I crave it.”

Of course Danaus would jump on any opportunity, no matter how immoral, that might benefit him. He didn't even seem to care that Melenia had been keeping this secret from him until now.

“You really want to know?” she asked coyly.

“Yes. You must show me!”

A warning rose up inside Alexius and his throat tightened. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't.

“All right.” Melenia took Danaus's face in her hands. “Look deeply into my eyes.”

Don't. Don't do what she asks.

But Danaus's lust for this skill transformed the justice-seeker who'd entered the room into someone just as blind and greedy as King Gaius.

“I'm surprised you never figured this out on your own,” Melenia said. “Then again, it was only an accident that I discovered it for myself.”

“Discovered what?” Danaus demanded.

“That Watchers are capable of pulling magic from each other to become more powerful. Power that lets us do all sorts of interesting things—including dreamwalking.”

Alexius's heart began to thud, but the tearing pain in his chest kept him still and silent.

Danaus's eyes lit up. “Show me how.”

“If you insist.”

Melenia locked into his gaze, and her hands began to glow.

“I feel it,” Danaus whispered. “I feel the power leaving me and entering you. Incredible. All this time . . . how could I not have known?”

“There is a catch, of course. There's always a catch. If one takes more than just a taste, a mark is left upon the donor.”

Danaus winced. Alexius could see that he was beginning to feel the pain as his magic flowed into Melenia, weakening him and strengthening her. “Enough. Stop.”

“But, you see, that's impossible. I've already taken too much,” she whispered loud enough for Alexius to hear. “I don't want to leave you to suffer and fade. I am doing you a favor today, my friend.”

Alexius's fingers dug into the soft padding of his chair as he watched Danaus begin to glow, his face convulsing.

“Stop!” Danaus cried, the pain most likely excruciating. “Please, stop!”

“I'm grateful for your sacrifice, Danaus. The magic I've stolen from other immortals is meager—but you, an elder, an original like me—you have so much more to give. I'll use this magic well when I'm finally free from this prison.”

He screamed as his body was swallowed up by blue-white flames, and, finally, Melena stepped back from him, watching as he disappeared in a flash of light that turned Alexius's vision stark white.

Danaus had existed for millennia, and here he was gone—forever—in mere moments.

“That was incredibly satisfying,” Melenia said, sliding her hands through her shimmering hair.

This wasn't right. Melenia had to feel at least a sliver of remorse, and if she didn't, she was even more of a monster than Alexius suspected.

It wasn't too late. Alexius would find a way to get to Timotheus and tell him what had happened here. He and Melenia were the only original elders left.

She had to be stopped.

Pain wrenched through him at the thought.

“Now, where were we?” She fixed her gaze upon him as he sat stiffly on her chaise. “Ah, yes. Phaedra. You believe I murdered her because she knew too much?”

Her eyes blazed so brightly that he thought they might overflow in a sea of sapphire power.

She was more dangerous than he'd ever seen her, and he couldn't help feeling fear.

He bowed his head. “Apologies, my queen, I never should have suggested such a thing.”

“No, you shouldn't have.” She sat next to him, so close he could feel the crackle of the magic that now coated her golden skin. “Show me what we worked on the other day.”

For the briefest of moments, he hesitated. But the pain rose up again, forcing him to obey. He loosened the ties of his shirt and bared his chest to her. The golden swirl over his heart had dimmed since she'd begun to consume his magic, just as she'd done with Danaus, but less severely. She took a small taste every day, just enough to keep him from visiting Lucia in her dreams or watching over her in the mortal world in hawk form.

He, too, was now a prisoner here, in every way.

“I know I've been harsh with you,” she said softly. “But I have no other choice. I can't risk anything going wrong.”

“And nothing will, my queen.”

He could only blame himself for the position he found himself in. He'd wholeheartedly agreed to collaborate with her, thinking that he could help save his world—help save
all
worlds. He'd understood from the beginning that certain sacrifices would have to be made for the greater good, but his intentions had always been pure.

He hadn't known the whole truth then.