Frozen Tides (19 page)

The rebel had made an excellent point. And even if Magnus hadn't officially announced to everyone here that the Paelsian rebel leader was currently a “guest” at the castle, he would have many questions if, suddenly, Jonas and his friends were to wander off unexpectedly.

“I'll speak with Magnus and give him an excellent reason for your temporary leave,” she said with a confident nod. “I'll keep the earth Kindred here with me. That exiled Watcher may have been very kind and wise, but I'm not sure I trust even her with it.”

Jonas crossed his arms and studied her. “And it'll be just that easy, will it? He'll simply take your word without question?”

“He'll have to. Otherwise my plan won't work.”

“No, princess. Let me handle it. If I'm to agree to this, I don't want you tangled up in it at all. When he asks about me, you will
simply say you have no idea where we went, that I left without saying a word. I'll deal with the ramifications when I return.”

Her heart lifted. “So you're saying you'll do this? You'll go?”

Jonas paced to the other side of the small room, his arms still folded tightly over his chest.

She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

Finally, Jonas turned to face her again and gave her a grin. “It would be my honor, your highness. But when I come back, surely successful and impossibly heroic, I will ask for something in return. Something I haven't had in far too long.”

Her heart leapt. “Anything. What is it?”

His smile grew. “A kiss from a princess.”

LUCIA

PAELSIA

I
f Kyan learned about Lucia's dream visit with Timotheus, he'd be furious. And since Lucia had quickly learned during their travels that the best kind of fire god was a calm fire god, she'd chosen not to speak a word of it to him.

Still, the dream had troubled—not to mention annoyed—her. Timotheus's goal had been to dissuade her from helping Kyan, but his abrasive manner and disrespectful words had only succeeded in renewing her commitment to the fire god's cause. Had Alexius been even half as unpleasant as his elder, Lucia wouldn't have bothered with him at all.

In hindsight, that would have been much better for everyone.

She put that hateful encounter with Timotheus out of her head and focused on her current quest: finding her true family.

Lucia and Kyan had been working together to pull information out of various Mytican witches through a combination of fire storms and truth extraction, and finally they had a solid lead to follow.

This lead took them to the village of Basilia near Trader's Harbor
in Paelsia. The village was surrounded by vineyards, and thus its citizens subsisted on profits made from visiting ships and wine exports to Auranos. Thanks to its prime port location and never-ending cycle of visitors and merchants, Basilia was the most affluent and luxurious village in all of Paelsia, with comfortable inns for weary travelers, busy taverns serving libations imported from all around the world, and plenty of brothels for sailors.

They entered a tavern called The Purple Vine, already buzzing with patrons despite the fact that it was only midday.

The first thing Lucia noticed was that she was one of only five women there, and that the vast majority of the male patrons were loud and big and lewd, yelling and slamming their tables and calling out for more food and drink. And the smells—every odor from burnt goat's meat to the sour stench of unwashed armpits—had Lucia wanting to turn right around and go back outside, promising lead be damned.

“This is fascinating,” Kyan said, smiling as he scanned the crowd. “Mortals at play.”

She could barely hear him over the vile din. Taking hold of Kyan's arm, she threaded her way through the crowd toward a vacant table next to a small wooden stage across the room. It was impossible to get to the table without brushing against the men, and Lucia cringed at each point of contact.

One large, hairy brute whistled at her through his teeth. “Pretty girl, come here and sit on my knee!”

She sent a whisper of air magic toward him, which tipped his large tankard of ale right into his lap. He swore loudly and jumped to his feet, and Lucia turned her head to hide her sly smile.

Sick of the groping she had to endure just to get to the stage, she stopped in front of a table several paces away from her original goal. It was already occupied.

“I want to sit here,” she said to the gruff-looking patron seated there.

“Go away, girl.” The man flicked a dismissive hand at her. “And fetch me some lamb stew . . . and some bread to go along with it.”

Kyan watched Lucia with a smile, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well? Are you going to get him the stew? I wouldn't mind trying some myself.”

Lucia leaned closer to the man and, ignoring the rotten stench of his breath, met his watery gaze. “I said, I want to sit here. Remove yourself from my sight.”

The man's cheek twitched, and he sputtered out a mix of spittle and ale. Immediately, Lucia thought of Magnus's pained reaction to her magic, and her stomach clenched.

The man grabbed his bowl of stew and vacated the table without further argument—and thankfully before she could inflict any real suffering.

“Well done,” Kyan said, reaching for man's newly vacant chair. “You're getting so much better at that.”

“Weaker minds do make things easier—for them and for me. Sit.”

As they sat down, Lucia gestured for the barmaid and asked for two apple ciders and a bowl of lamb stew for Kyan.

“No wine?” the barmaid asked, a hand on her plump hip. “Most fine ladies like yourself can only tolerate a place like this with some wine in their bellies.”

“I don't indulge in wine.”

“No wine?” The barmaid snorted. “What are you, a Limerian?” She turned around without waiting for a reply, and Lucia followed her with a narrowed gaze until she disappeared into the crowd.

In the far corner of the tavern, a trio of flutists started up with a song, and the room began to quiet down.

The show was beginning.

Lucia was here to find a dancer known as the Goddess of Serpents, and now she knew that she was in the right place. As the trio's melody hit its first crescendo, a young woman emerged from behind the stage. Her arms, legs, and face were streaked with golden paint, and her raven-black hair was long, falling nearly to her knees, with slender braids scattered around her face. Her blue eyes were heavily outlined with kohl. She wore an ornate jeweled mask that covered half of her face, and all that covered her lithe, tanned body was a costume of diaphanous scarves and veils. Such an outfit wouldn't have turned a single head in a more exotic locale, like Kraeshia, but here it was a shocking sight, at least to Lucia. But the most shocking aspect of the girl's appearance was not her revealing outfit; rather, it was the large, snow-white boa constrictor draped over her shoulders.

The crowd roared with approval as the Goddess of Serpents danced and swayed her hips to the music, as her pet snake's tongue shot out every few seconds, as if searching for its next meal.

When the dance ended, the crowd cheered for more, and the snake goddess blew them all kisses, promising to return later that afternoon.

She was about to retreat backstage when Lucia reached into her drawstring purse and pulled out a handful of coins, setting them on the table before her. Lucia watched the dancer stop, raise a curious brow at the clank and sparkle of silver, then turn around and walk over to the table. She stood before Lucia and Kyan, offering them both a big smile.

“Welcome to The Purple Vine, friends,” she purred as she stroked the head of the white snake still wrapped over her shoulders like a scaly shawl.

Lucia pushed the coins toward her. “Sit with us for a moment.”

There was only a slight hesitation before the dancer snatched
up the coins, wrapped them up in one of her scarves, and took a seat.

Suddenly, Lucia found that she was nervous, and it had very little to do with the serpent. How ridiculous. She was the one in control here. Silver would buy her the answers she needed, and if it didn't, her magic would.

The barmaid returned with their ciders and Kyan's stew. Lucia waited for her to leave before she spoke another word.

“The Goddess of Serpents is such a lovely name,” Lucia said, willing her voice to stay calm and even. “But what's your real one?”

The girl smiled. “Laelia.”

“I see. And I take it you're not an actual goddess.”

“That is a matter of opinion.” She smiled and slid a hand up Lucia's arm as her pet wound closer around its mistress's body. “For a few more coins I would be happy to make you and your handsome friend feel like a god and goddess tonight. This is a special offer, one I only rarely make, and only to those special souls to whom I take an immediate liking.”

Lucia shot Laelia a sharp, withering look, and the dancer withdrew her hand, as if burned. “Apologies,” she said, clearly frightened. “Perhaps I misinterpreted your intentions. . . .”

“You certainly did.”

“Another time perhaps.” Laelia composed herself, leaning back leisurely in her seat and placing a fresh smile on her red lips. “So. Why, then, did you lure me over to your table with a gift of more coin than I can earn here in a month?”

Kyan remained silent and focused on his meal, letting Lucia take the lead.

“I was told you might know something about a prophecy,” Lucia said.

Laelia's smile wavered. “A prophecy?”

“Yes,” Lucia said, humoring the girl's feigned ignorance but growing impatient. “A prophecy about a child said to wield the magic of a sorceress. When this prophecy came to fruition, two witches stole that baby from her cradle and murdered the mother. This happened somewhere in Paelsia, nearly seventeen years ago.”

“What a tragic story,” Laelia said, the skin above her mask now nearly as pale as her cold-blooded companion. “But I'm sorry, I don't know how I can be helpful to you.”

“How old are you?” Lucia said. The girl was obviously lying. “Nineteen? Twenty? You would've been very young at the time, but I imagine a tale like that—of murder and kidnapping all in the same night—would have been passed around Paelsian villages for many years. I know you know the story I speak of.”

Laelia stood up, her breath quickening. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because I'm the child from the prophecy,” Lucia said, her eyes steady on the girl's.

“What?” Laelia dropped back down in her seat, then stared at Lucia for several moments. “
You're
the stolen child?”

Lucia nodded in silence, waiting for Laelia to put together the pieces and say more.

Finally, Laelia spoke again, her voice raspy. “When I was three years old . . . my mother was murdered right after two thieves stole my baby sister from her cradle in the night. My father searched everywhere, but no one knew anything—or else, they chose not to say what they knew. Soon after, he married again, and it was as if he forgot all about it, as if the loss of his daughter and wife no longer mattered to him.” Her expression grew haunted. “But that prophecy . . . it wasn't about my sister. It was about my father.
That's what he always told us. He believed he was a sorcerer, and that one day he would save Paelsia from its dark curse. He believed that to be true his whole life, right up until the day he died.”

Lucia's chest tightened with every word Laelia spoke. “Who is . . . who
was
your father?”

The girl scanned the tavern, as if suddenly afraid they might be overheard. “I try not to talk about him anymore. I don't want anyone to blame me for all the things he did. That's why I wear this mask when I dance.”

Lucia squeezed Laelia's hand, hard, forcing her to snap her eyes back to hers. Eyes, she now realized, that were the exact same color as her own.

“
Who was he?
” she pressed.

Lines of pained concentration settled into Laelia's face as Lucia forcibly pressed for the truth with her magic. “The former chieftain of Paelsia. Hugo Basilius.”

A stab of shock sliced through Lucia. She released the girl's hand.

Chief Basilius
. A foolish, ignorant man who taxed his people to death while he lived like a king. Murdered by King Gaius after being tricked into helping him conquer Auranos.

His people had believed he was a sorcerer. They'd believed he was a living god, when he was nothing but a fraud. A selfish, delusional, lying fraud.

Laelia's snake slithered, wrapping itself tighter around her neck, as if trying to give its mistress a reassuring hug.

“You're my sister,” Laelia said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucia stood up. “I must leave. Now.”

Laelia grabbed her hand, stopping her. “No, please. Please stay. We need to speak further. You're my sister—and you have money. You need to help me.”

Lucia shut her eyes and summoned fire magic to her hand. Laelia gasped and yanked her hand back, her skin red and blistering. “Stay away from me,” Lucia hissed. “I want nothing to do with you.”

Finally, Lucia had the answer she'd been seeking for so long. And it only made her feel emptier than she ever had before.

She had no real family. And she never would.

• • •

Kyan followed her outside. “Lucia, stop.”

“It's funny, really.” Lucia laughed, but it sounded as humorless as it felt. A storm was brewing inside of her, one she couldn't wait to unleash. “What was I expecting? To discover a nice, normal family, with a mother and father and siblings who would be happy to have found me again? How ridiculous.”

Kyan took her by her shoulders. “I know your frustration and disappointment very well. You need to use it to make you stronger. Use everything you feel—both the good and the bad—to give you power.”

“I'm utterly alone. In a world that I hate. I hate it so much.”

“You're not alone, little sorceress. You have me.”

Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. Instead, she looked up into his face. “I do?”

“Of course you do. You think you and I are so different, but we're exactly the same. I want all the same things you do—a family, a home. A real, passionate life. But those things are always just out of reach for us. And because of that, we both harbor an uncontrollable rage that needs to be released. And when we release that rage, others join in our suffering. Do you know what that means?”

She neither nodded nor shook her head, instead keeping her gaze on him steady and resolute. “What?”

“It means
we're
family.”

He said it with such certainty, such confidence, that she knew he meant it. The heavy weight that had settled on her heart lifted just a little. “You and I. Family.”

Kyan smiled. “Yes. And once we reunite with my siblings, we'll be a fearsome sight for these flawed, lowly mortals.”

“But I'm a mortal.”

“Oh, that's nothing but a bit of a hindrance, a small dose of fragility that we needn't think about just yet.” He stroked her dark hair, tucking it behind her ears. “Now, I'm going to go see a witch about a wheel. You stay here and explore the market. Clear your mind. Enjoy yourself until I return.”

“My mother used to do that—go to the market to make herself feel better.” Lucia frowned. “The queen, I mean. Not my mother. The queen used to take me to Ravencrest to buy me things she thought a proper Limerian princess should wear. Dresses, slippers, jewelry. But all I wanted was books.”