Frozen Tides (16 page)

“
Possible
futures?” Lucia said.

His jaw tightened. “Choice, child. The freedom to choose makes
all the difference. For instance, you have chosen to help the fire Kindred in his quest to destroy me. That choice determines both your fate and mine.”

“Have you seen it? My future?”

“I've seen enough of it.”

“Care to share any of what you've gleaned?”

“No.”

She felt her whole body tense up with fury. “Then I'm sure you've seen the day when Kyan and I finally find a wheel you haven't tampered with.”

“Oh, child. You are in so deep you don't even know you're drowning. You're right, I've sent my people out to slow you down. But not to stop you. Not to kill you.”

She inhaled sharply, perplexed by Timotheus's confession and what it might mean if it were true.

“I've sent my people on other missions, too. Missions meant to change certain visions I find unacceptable or compromising to everything I'm here to protect. Mortals are so very fragile. They are foolish creatures who dance toward their own deaths with every idiotic decision they make. But that does not change the fact that every mortal life is precious. Some mortals simply require more protection than others.”

“Mortals like me?”

“No, not mortals like you. You—you and your new friend—you're the ones from whom they'll need to be protected. Remember one thing, child.”

“I told you to stop calling me ‘child,'” she hissed.

“Remember. All magic comes with a price. A price that is never revealed until after the damage has been done.”

“If I'm beyond saving, if I've already drowned, if I'm so
dangerous that the entire mortal world is threatened by my very existence, then what is this, Timotheus? What do you want from me?”

He took one step closer, locking his serious gaze with hers. “I need you to wake up, you stupid girl.”

With a gasp, she sat up in her cot, her eyes wide open, staring wildly around at the dark, empty room.

“Thank you for introducing yourself to me, Timotheus,” she whispered.

Kyan was right—that Watcher needed to die.

AMARA

KRAESHIA

E
mperor Cortas kept the king waiting two full days before he agreed to receive him. The thought of how insulted King Gaius must have been by that snub brought Amara quite a bit of amusement.

Amara's grandmother had told her that the men were meeting for a private feast in the banquet hall. The princess hadn't been invited, but that didn't stop her from going.

As Amara breezed into the room, her head held high, she felt the disapproving gaze of Dastan. Due to his nearly exact resemblance to Ashur, Amara had been avoiding her eldest brother ever since his return from sea, and Dastan hadn't gone out of his way to find her, either.

Elan, as always, stayed close to his father's side, as if the emperor had developed an Elan-shaped tumor.

Seeing Amara, the emperor narrowed his pale eyes at her uninvited presence. But before he could say a word about it, King Gaius entered the room flanked by his bodyguards, both dressed as finely as any nobleman.

A smile parted the emperor's lips, and his fine silk robes swished as he approached the king. “Ah, Gaius Damora. Finally, we're able to meet.”

The king pressed his right hand against his heart and bowed shallowly from the waist—the traditional Kraeshian greeting. Amara was mildly impressed that he'd learned this custom. “Emperor Cortas, this is a pleasure beyond words. Your Jewel is just that . . . a precious treasure unlike any I've ever seen before. Stunning. I can see why it's reputed to be the most beautiful place in the known world, without competition.”

“I hope it's not too vain of me to agree with you.”

The emperor had prepared a table laden with Kraeshian delicacies. Vibrantly colorful fruits and vegetables grown right there in the Jewel, served with fresh kintha herbs and rich saffra oils. The Kraeshian diet eschewed all meat except for fish, and today there seemed to be no species unaccounted for—smoked salmus, red prawns, shelled lobrarus, to name but a few. An artful spread of sweets was arranged on a separate table, including indigo-berry tarts and sugar-cakes of the most intricate details and designs, and all nearly too beautiful to eat.

Amara watched the king with careful curiosity. Every gesture, every word, every sneaking glance. She had to admit his little act was quite convincing. If she didn't already know what a conniving snake he was, she'd believe he was actually enjoying the company around him. His words were smooth, his demeanor charming and polite, and he was handsome and charismatic.

Very unlike what one would expect of a man who'd earned the nickname of the King of Blood.

Amara drew closer to him, pretending to admire the dining table so she could listen in on his conversation with her father.

“These are my sons,” the emperor said, placing a hand on Dastan's shoulder. “Dastan, my firstborn, undefeated in every battle he'd ever commanded . . .”

“Yes, of course. We speak of this young man's fine reputation all the way back in Mytica. Congratulations on your recent acquisition of Castoria,” the king said.

Dastan pressed his hand to his heart and bowed. “Thank you. And since you're aware of my victories I suppose it's fortunate that we're meeting on friendly ground, isn't it, your grace?”

King Gaius smiled. “This couldn't be more true.”

“And this is Elan,” said the emperor, patting the boy's back and prompting him to perform the Kraeshian greeting. “I like to think of him as my most trusted vizier, one whose opinion is always invaluable to me. In all his twenty-three years, I don't believe he's ever told a single lie. Correct, my peach of a boy?”

“Correct,” Elan agreed. He stood as if sewn to his father's sleeve, like a child afraid of getting lost.

Elan really was so sweet, so without guile, and Amara had always hoped they'd one day become close. Yet despite his gentle nature, he was still a Kraeshian male, raised not to show an iota of respect or regard to his sister or any other woman.

“Unfortunately, Ashur, my youngest son, isn't here to greet you. But I'm sure you had plenty of time to become acquainted with him during his stay in your little kingdom.”

Every muscle in Amara's chest clenched up at the sound of her dead brother's name. To steady herself and keep from keeling over, she took a sip from her glass of sparkling wine.

“I did indeed,” Gaius said. “Ashur is a charming boy, you must be so proud of him.”

Instead of nodding proudly, as he had when introducing
Dastan and Elan, the emperor winced a bit and then pursed his lips. “Ashur reminds me of his mother in so many ways. Always gallivanting around the world, searching for treasures.”

“Is he successful in his quests?”

“Not nearly often enough to justify the time and finances necessary to fund these little excursions.”

With that, the emperor gestured for his guests to take their seats at the table and eat of the feast. Amara watched as Gaius's two bodyguards filled their plates with piles of food, and when Felix caught her looking, he grinned and winked at her.

She didn't find his boldness offensive, but rather took it as proof that he hadn't been to very many formal banquets before.

As the guests tucked into their meal, the emperor drove the conversation, informing Gaius about a new structure currently being built in the Jewel, an auditorium that would play host to poets, singers, and theater troupes.

“My, that sounds wonderful. Culture is so important to the vitality of civilized countries,” the king said.

“I'm surprised you think so,” Amara said, taking the opportunity to speak up. “Especially since artistic endeavors are discouraged in Limeros.”

Gaius lifted his goblet and swirled his cider around thoughtfully. “That is true, princess. Our radiant goddess did not approve of frivolity or flights of whimsy, and if Limerians are anything it's loyal to our beloved goddess's laws. However, having lately spent so much time in Auranos, I've come to realize that the arts have the ability to elevate the spirits of citizens during difficult times. Art gives them hope. And without hope, what is there to live for?”

“Well said, Gaius,” said the emperor, spearing a chunk of fried squar fish and dipping it into a spicy shanut sauce. “And please
excuse my daughter's boldness; I was not aware she'd be joining us today. But, yes, hope is a beautiful thing—and I love beautiful things!”

The guests talked and ate happily straight through until dessert. When the servants had cleared all the plates away, the emperor leaned back and patted his large belly. “Now, Gaius, my friend. Tell me, why are you here?”

The king raised his brow a tiny fraction of an inch. “I'm here, your eminence, to get to know you better. To understand your intentions. I know you soon plan to conquer Mytica.”

Amara stifled a gasp at the king's unexpected bluntness and gazed around the room to see the others' surprised reactions in the moment of echoing silence that followed. While the king's two guards remained as composed as the sentries they were, she did notice a momentary raise of Felix's brows.

The emperor acknowledged this with a nod. “I must confess, given its size, Mytica hasn't been a high priority for me. Your country would make for just a tiny speck of dirt on my map. But yes, Ashur's great interest in your history and legends drew my attention. Your shores are a mere leap from my Jewel, so the cost and effort to acquire the land would be minimal. And then there are your vineyards, which are reputed to produce the finest wine in the world. I think it would make a nice little addition to my empire.”

“I see. And when were you and your sons planning to visit my lovely speck of dirt?”

The emperor laughed. “Let's not talk strategy, Gaius. Today we sit around this table as friends, not enemies.”

“As a fellow leader I admire how confident you are that Mytica would be so easily captured.”

The emperor smiled, drained his glass of wine, and signaled to a servant to pour him another. “Dastan? I believe this is your area of expertise.”

“We have great reason to be confident,” Dastan said, taking over for his father. “Your army is currently scattered across all of Mytica, and your coastal defenses are laughable at best. We outnumber you one hundred to one.”

King Gaius nodded cordially. “You're right, of course. With those statistics on your side, Kraeshia would easily conquer Mytica.”

“Good, then!” the emperor said. “We're all aware of the situation between our two lands, and it seems we've no more business to discuss.” He stood up from the table and placed his hands on his hips. “Now, if you're here to surrender your country in person, you will save much gold and the lives of many of your people.”

The king frowned. “Surrender? I think you may have misunderstood me. I did not come here to serve Mytica to you on a golden platter.”

“Then explain it to us again,” Dastan said. “What, exactly, did you come here for?”

“I came to issue you a warning. A friendly one, for now. And also to make you an offer.”

The emperor's jovial expression faded, though he looked no less pompous than usual. Amara bit her bottom lip, fascinated by what might happen next.

Her father sat back down at the table. “A warning, you say.”

“Yes.”

“You, the king of a land as tiny as Mytica, have a warning for me, a leader who has conquered a hundred kingdoms?”

Gaius smiled calmly and allowed a moment of silence to pass before going on. “I have to assume that Prince Ashur shared some
of his favorite Mytican legends with you, didn't he? Before he left for his visit?”

Elan nodded, clearly eager to contribute. “There were two legends he loved. The one of the magic of the elements trapped in rocks. And the one about immortal hawks that travel to other worlds. Rocks and hawks.”

“That's correct, Elan,” said King Gaius, nodding with smug satisfaction. “You're speaking of the Kindred and the Watchers—two of the most important figures in two of our most fascinating legends about the unlimited magic that can be found in my kingdom.”

“Are you trying to tell us that these legends are true?” Dastan said smoothly.

“Not trying. Stating as fact.”

“If that's so,” the emperor spat, “then all you're doing is giving me reassurance—the reassurance Ashur has been unable to deliver—that Mytica is worth my trouble.”

King Gaius went on, undeterred. “There's a prophecy tied to the legends, your eminence. It foretells of a mortal girl able to wield the
elementia
of a sorceress and light the way to the Kindred, the lost elemental crystals.” He paused, taking a slow look around the table of wealthy Kraeshians. “My daughter, Lucia, is this sorceress.”

Gaius's revelation was met with stark silence, broken only when the emperor let out a sharp laugh. “Your daughter is the prophesied sorceress? How terribly convenient for you.”

“She's my daughter, but not by blood. I found her when she was an infant, and took her from her true parents with the aid of witches and blood magic. I waited sixteen years for her to come into her powers, but it was well worth the wait. It was her magic that allowed me overthrow the Auranian king and conquer his land in less than two days. And it's her magic that led me to the Kindred.”

“Oh my, you Myticans do enjoy sharing such interesting fables! But words are but words, and only proof is proof. I doubt there's anyone—in your kingdom or mine—who has seen any real evidence that this princess is a sorceress.”

“Actually,
I
have,” Amara said. Every single pair of eyes at the table shot to her, and she smiled. “I befriended Lucia when I was in Mytica, and I personally witnessed her magic. I promised to keep her secret, but this seems to me a situation that requires me to go back on my word. Everything the king says about his daughter is true.”

The room had settled down to an awe-filled silence, one that not even the emperor himself could have manufactured.

“You knew this?” he said, slamming his fist down on the table. “Why didn't you tell me?”

She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction that this information had stunned him. “You didn't ask.”

The king nodded. “Princess Amara, perhaps you're also aware that, thanks to my daughter, I now possess all four crystals of the Kindred.”

Amara had to take a sip of her wine to stop herself from replying with a laugh. “All four?” she said once she was composed. “That is rather incredible.”

And a rather huge lie,
she thought. After all,
she
had the water Kindred, not this deceptive king, and the other three orbs could be anywhere.

“Yes, your eminence,” the king addressed the emperor again. “I have found all four Kindred. To unlock even one would make me a god.”

The emperor regarded him with an expression of waning patience. “How humble of you, then, to travel here by ship instead of flying through the air.”

“This is absurd, father,” Dastan interjected. “These children's tales are a waste of your valuable time.”

“Perhaps. But Amara claims that what the king says is true. My daughter may not approve of the life I've laid out for her in my empire, but she's never lied to me.”

Amara allowed herself an internal grin. For such a cunning and powerful man, her father really was quite stupid when it came to women.

The emperor studied Gaius. “Prove your claim.”

“Very well.” King Gaius stood up, reached into his coat, and drew out a small milky-white sphere. Dancing inside of it was a pale, wispy shadow.

Amara gasped. “The air Kindred.”

The king shot her a sharp look.

“Am I right? Ashur gave me books to read about the legends,” Amara said, trying now to inject some uncertainty into her voice. “The air Kindred is said to be an orb of moonstone. Is that really it?”