Crystal Storm Page 9

  “Here I thought that had melted just a little around the edges.”

  “Oh, no.” Magnus couldn’t help but smirk. “All Limerians have frozen hearts. We melt into puddles in places like Auranos, with its relentless heat.”

  “You’re making me miss Auranos. I love the warmth there. And the trees, the flowers . . . flowers everywhere. And the palace courtyard . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Magnus could see the wistfulness in her eyes. She took a seat on a fallen log, pulling her gloves off to warm her hands at the fire. Magnus sat down beside her, keeping his father in view.

  “There are courtyards in Limeros,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Not the same. Not nearly the same.”

  “True. Are you thirsty?” He offered Cleo his waterskin.

  She eyed it warily. “Does that contain water or wine?”

  “Sadly, only water.”

  “That’s too bad. I could use some wine today to help warm me up.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  His gloved fingers brushed against hers as Cleo took the waterskin from him. She took a long sip and handed it back. “Enzo and Milo have gone to kill the men who are following us, haven’t they?”

  “They have. Does that bother you?”

  “I think you may have suddenly confused me with the girl I was more than a year ago, one who would have shuddered to learn of such violence.”

  He raised his brow. “And now?”

  “No more shuddering. Just shivering.”

  He had the urge to put his arm around her to help keep her warm, but kept his focus instead on the fire before them.

  “Don’t worry, soon we’ll be back on our horses, headed for the even more frigid Reaches.” He picked up a stick and poked the small fire with it.

  “How soon until we get there?”

  “A day. Two at the most, as long as my father doesn’t drop off of his horse.”

  “I wouldn’t mind witnessing that.”

  He smiled at that visual. “Me neither.”

  “What do you know of your grandmother? I know you haven’t seen her for many years, but do you remember anything that could be useful?”

  He tried to think back to his childhood, which wasn’t a time he enjoyed dwelling on. “I was no more than five or six when I presumed she’d died . . . It was just after my grandfather had been buried. I can’t even remember anyone telling me that directly, but when people suddenly disappeared, I’d discovered that it usually meant they were dead. I remember a woman with black hair and a white streak right here . . .” He stroked a lock of Cleo’s hair that fell over her forehead, wishing he weren’t wearing leather gloves so he could actually touch her. “And I recall that she always wore a silver pendant of snakes twisting together.”

  “Charming.”

  “I actually liked it.”

  “You would.” She flashed a smile, but it quickly disappeared. “Do you think your father has the air Kindred on him right now?”

  The king was crouched by the river, his head lowered as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it upright. Magnus watched this frail version of the man he’d been afraid of all his life.

  “Probably not. He likely hid it somewhere before he left.” He cocked his head, reconsidering her question. “Then again, he would fear someone might find it, so it’s very likely on his person.”

  “So you’re saying you have no idea.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He snorted softly. “You have your Kindred, though.”

  She held out her hand to show him the obsidian orb. “It saved our lives,” she said, gazing down at the black crystal. “We know it works—we’ve witnessed it cause two quakes. But I need more. We need more.”

  “We’ll get more,” he assured her. “My father wouldn’t come all this way if he didn’t think my grandmother could be helpful. And I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think she might be a help in breaking the hateful curse on you.”

  Her expression shadowed at the reminder. “We’ll see. Clearly, it’s possible to unleash the magic if Lucia is involved. She helped Kyan harness the fire Kindred’s power.”

  The thought of it caused him near-physical pain. “Perhaps. But we don’t know that for sure.”

  “I can’t think of another reason why he’d be capable of magic like that.”

  “If so, then she could do the same for us,” he said.

  “I fear you’re hopelessly optimistic when it comes to your sister.”

  Magnus swallowed hard. “I fear you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

  It wasn’t long before Enzo and Milo returned, nodding to the king that the deed was done.

  Slowly, and with help from Milo, King Gaius got back on his horse, and they continued on.

  It turned out to be three days of travel, which included frequent stops so the king could rest, taking them through small snow-covered villages and ice-encrusted cities. Amara didn’t have soldiers patrolling this far east yet, so they didn’t have to try to avoid being seen by those who might send word to the empress that King Gaius now traveled with both Magnus and Cleo at his side.

  Just as Magnus was ready to demand more answers from his father—answers he was sure he wouldn’t receive—they came upon a village in the Reaches called Scalia. It looked no different from the others they’d passed through, yet Magnus felt that something had changed. His father now rode with his shoulders straight rather than slumped.

  They followed the king as he took them along a row of stone cottages, each identical to the next. Smoke rose from each chimney, so thick in the frigid air that it resembled puffs of cotton.

  The king slipped off his horse, then looked to Magnus. “Come with me.”

  “It seems we’ve arrived,” Magnus said to Cleo.

  “At long last,” she replied. Despite her dry tone, he could see the hope in her eyes.

  They followed the king as he approached the door of the second cottage on the left. He paused for a moment, straightening his spine. Magnus was shocked to see such hesitation in his father. Finally, Gaius took a deep breath in, raised his fist, and pounded three times on the door’s surface.

  It took several long moments before the door creaked open inward and a woman looked out at them. Her eyes widened immediately.

  “Gaius,” she said, her voice barely audible.

  It was her—Magnus’s grandmother. She looked different—older, of course. Her black hair had turned a dark gray, but the white streak in the front still remained.

  “Mother,” Gaius replied, his tone void of emotion.

  Her gaze swept past the king to Magnus and Cleo. “This is quite a surprise.”

  “I’m sure it is,” the king said.

  Selia’s gaze moved back to the king. “Gaius, my darling, what has happened to you?” Before he could reply, she opened the door wider. “Come in, please. All of you.”

  The king gestured for Milo and Enzo to remain outside and stand guard, but then he, Magnus, and Cleo entered the small cottage.

  “Please sit.” Selia indicated some modest seating around a small wooden table. “And tell me why you look so desperately unwell.”

  The king sat stiffly upon one of the chairs. “First, in case you don’t recognize him, this is your grandson.”

  “Magnus,” she said, nodding. “Of course, I’d know you anywhere. You’ve barely changed.” Her eyebrows drew together as she patted his cheek, her gaze lingering on his scar.

  “Trust me, I’ve changed a lot,” he said. “This is Princess Cleiona Bellos of Auranos, my . . . wife.” For the first time since their forced marriage, he tasted no bitterness or resentment in the word.

  “Cleiona Bellos.” The woman’s assessing gaze slowly tracked toward the princess. “Elena and Corvin’s youngest daughter.”


  “Yes,” the king hissed.

  Selia raised a brow. “You didn’t take the Damora name upon your marriage to my grandson?”

  “No. I chose instead to continue to honor my family name,” Cleo replied, “since I’m the last Bellos.”

  “I suppose that’s understandable.” Selia’s attention returned to the king. “Now, tell me how you came to be in such dire shape, my son. I assume this is the reason for this long-awaited visit?”

  Magnus heard no accusation in her tone, only concern.

  “One of the reasons, yes,” the king admitted. And then he briefly told the woman about his fall from the cliff, without giving specific details about why he fell.

  Selia all but collapsed into a chair when he finished. “Then there’s very little time. I feared this would happen one day, and I could only pray to the goddess that you’d come to find me if it did.”

  “You know what to do?” the king asked.

  “I believe so. I only hope it can be done in time.”

  “Why are you here?” Magnus finally put his thoughts into words. “Why did you disappear all those years ago only to . . . live here, in Scalia, of all the undesirable places in Limeros?”

  She eyed him quizzically. “Your father didn’t tell you?”

  “No. But to be truthful, my father doesn’t tell me very much. I thought you were dead.” He gritted his teeth, angry all over again that this secret had been kept from him for thirteen years. “Clearly, you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not,” she agreed. “What I am is in exile.”

  Magnus shot a look at the king. “For what reason?”

  “It was her own choice,” the king replied weakly. “There were those on the royal council who demanded her execution—those who believe to this day that her execution was carried out privately. Instead, your grandmother came to live here. And here she has stayed all these years without anyone in this village—or at the palace—being any the wiser for it.”

  “Why would anyone demand your execution?” Magnus asked, sharing a look of confusion with Cleo.

  “Because,” Selia began slowly, “I confessed to poisoning my husband.”

  Magnus shook his head, confused. “But I saw Father poison him.”

  “Did you?” She regarded him with interest. “Then you saw the poison that I supplied to him. Gaius couldn’t take the blame and the throne, so I made everything easier so that he could rule—much better than Davidus ever could.” She said it so simply, as if they were discussing the weather. “It hasn’t been so horrible, really. This town is sometimes unbearably cold, but it’s pleasant enough most days. I have friends here, which helps to pass the time since my son’s last brief visit. What was it, Gaius . . . five years ago?”

  “Six,” Gaius replied.

  “Sabina visited me twice since then.”

  “You were her mentor. I’m not surprised.”

  Cleo remained silent, but Magnus knew she was filing information away in that beautiful blond head of hers.

  “There’s no more time for talk.” Selia stood up from her chair. “We must leave immediately for the city of Basilia.”

  “What?” Magnus shot a look at his father. “That’s in west Paelsia.”

  The king too looked surprised by this. “It’s a long journey. And we’ve only just arrived here.”

  “Yes, and now we must leave. I have a friend in that city who can supply the magic I need to help you before it’s too late.”

  “What I need more than that, Mother, is your magic to help us find Lucia. She’s gone missing just when I need her the most.”

  “So the prophecy was true,” Selia whispered. “And you didn’t tell me until now? I could have helped her as I did Sabina.”

  “I chose to use tutors who didn’t know of the prophecy.”

  She said nothing for a moment, then nodded sharply. “You were right to be careful with her. However, finding her current location will be a challenge. After all these years in hiding my magic has faded to a point that it’s useless to me. The answer for this too lies in Basilia. We will go there and get what we need for the next steps in our plan.” She took the king’s hands in hers, smiling. “At long last, everything is coming together. But I need you well.”

  “I never knew you were a witch,” Magnus said, choosing to remain mostly silent until now, watching and listening.

  Selia glanced at him. “I told very few this secret.”

  “And you feel that you can restore your elementia?”

  She nodded. “I haven’t had a need to do so for years, but to find my granddaughter, to acquire the magic necessary to heal my son . . . it will be worth it.”

  “My father recently told me about a curse . . .” He glanced at Cleo, whose expression was bleak.

  Selia’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course. The tragic curse on Elena Bellos. I’m so sorry, Cleiona, for your loss.”

  Cleo nodded. “I am too. I wish I could have known my mother.”

  “Of course you do. Even though my magic is weak, I can still sense this powerful curse all around you when I concentrate. I won’t say that it will be easy, but I promise to do everything in my power to break it when my magic is strengthened.”

  The tight knot in Magnus’s chest finally loosened just a little. “Good.”

  He saw relief in Cleo’s eyes as she nodded. “Thank you,” She said.

  “What is this magic in Basilia that could help me?” Gaius asked as Selia grabbed a canvas bag and started shoving some of her belongings into it.

  “Magic that once belonged to the immortals themselves,” she told him. “An object of great power that very few know exists.”

  “And what object is that?” Magnus asked.

  “It’s called the bloodstone. We will find it together, and when we do I am certain it will fully restore your father to his former greatness.”

  “That sounds like a valuable treasure,” the king said. “One you’ve never mentioned to me before today.”

  “I didn’t tell you everything I know, Gaius.”

  “No. I’m quite sure you didn’t.”

  Their voices became distant echoes as Magnus considered the existence of this bloodstone . . . another rock imbued with great power and magic that could allegedly heal even someone who already looked as if they had been dead and buried.

  Forget his father, Magnus thought. That was magic he wanted for himself.

  CHAPTER 9

  AMARA

  LIMEROS

  Since childhood, Amara had enjoyed taking long walks in the tropical splendor of the Jewel of the Empire, relishing in its vibrant colors and warm weather, often with Ashur by her side. The kiss of sunlight gave her renewed hope when her father had been particularly cruel or her brothers Dastan and Elan ignored her very existence. In Kraeshia, no one had to wear heavy fur-lined cloaks or huddle close to fires to keep from freezing.

  Yes, she missed her home desperately and longed to return there when she finally had what she’d come here for. Then she would say farewell to this frozen and unforgiving kingdom once and for all.

  She turned from the main hall’s large windowpane, framed with ice crystals, which looked out at the villa’s snow-covered grounds, to regard Kurtis. He’d entered the hall to bring the daily news, and he currently kneeled before her, his arms full of papers.

  “Rise and speak, Lord Kurtis,” she commanded as she moved toward her small throne.

  “Preparations are under way for you to move to the Limerian palace tomorrow, your grace,” he said.

  “Excellent.” Gaius had suggested the move three days earlier, before his departure, and she’d rather not stay at the villa any longer than absolutely necessary.

  She strived for patience as Kurtis struggled, one-handed, to sort through his armful of papers.

  “Have my men reported anythin
g on my husband’s current whereabouts?” she asked.

  He scanned a few more pieces of parchment before replying. “No, your grace. Not yet.”

  “Really? Nothing at all?”

  “No.” He gave her a thin smile. “But I’m sure he’d be pleased to know that his wife is so eager to have him return to her side.”

  “Yes, of course.” Amara regarded him for a moment in silence, still trying to decide whether or not she’d come to value his presence over the last few days. According to Gaius—and Kurtis himself—this young man had been a worthy grand kingsliege, one who’d held command of Limeros for months before Magnus arrived and tore his power away.

  Amara’s gaze drifted to the stump of Kurtis’s right arm. Despite the dressing of fresh white bandages, a blotch of blood had begun to seep through.

  “What other news is there?” she asked, taking a sip from her goblet of cider that Nerissa had provided earlier.

  “My father, Lord Gareth, has sent a message.”

  “Read it to me.”

  He unrolled the parchment, dropping several others pieces of paper to the floor. “Great Empress, first, my deepest congratulations on your marriage to King Gaius, a true and dear friend of mine. He sent word to me about the current situation in Mytica, and I wish for you to know that I understand the situation and embrace this chance to serve my glorious new empress in any capacity you may require.”

  Yes, Amara thought wryly, I’m quite sure he does, given that the alternative is death or imprisonment.

  “For now,” Kurtis continued, “unless you command my services elsewhere, I will remain at the Auranian palace in the City of Gold. Please know that I shall welcome any and all Kraeshians as friends and allies.”

  “Very good.” Amara gifted Kurtis with a small smile when he finished. “Your father sounds a great deal like you. Very amenable to unexpected changes.”

  Kurtis returned her modest grin with a simpering one of his own, telling her that he took this wry observation as a compliment. “We both have a knack for recognizing greatness in a leader.”

  “That’s very wise of you,” she said through teeth made to ache by Kurtis’s cloying comment.