Frozen Tides (2 page)

MAGNUS

LIMEROS

A
ll women are deceptive, dangerous creatures. Each a spider poisonous enough to kill with a single bite. Remember that.”

The advice Magnus's father once gave him echoed in his memory as he stood on the Ravencrest docks and watched the Kraeshian ship disappear into the darkness. The King of Blood had never fully trusted a woman. Not his queen, not his former mistress and advisor, not even an immortal who whispered secrets to him in his dreams. Magnus usually ignored most of what his ruthless father said, but now he knew who was the most dangerous and deceptive of all.

Amara Cortas had stolen the Kindred, an aquamarine orb which contained the essence of water magic, leaving blood and destruction in her wake.

The driving snow bit into his skin, helping to numb the pain of his broken arm. Dawn was still hours off and the night was frigid enough to steal his life if he was careless.

Still, he found it impossible to do anything but stare out at the black waters and the stolen treasure that was supposed to be
his
.

“Now what?” Cleo's voice finally interrupted his dark thoughts.

For a moment, he'd forgotten that he wasn't alone.

“
Now what
, princess?” he hissed, frozen clouds forming before his mouth with each word he spoke. “Well, I suppose we should enjoy the short time we have left before my father's men arrive to execute us on sight.”

The penalty for treason was death, even for the heir to the throne. And he had, most certainly, committed treason when he helped the princess currently standing behind him escape execution.

Next it was Nic's voice that sliced through the cold night. “I have a suggestion, your highness,” he said. “If you're finished inspecting the water for clues, why don't you jump in and swim after that murderous bitch's ship?”

As usual, Cleo's favorite minion spoke to Magnus with unvarnished contempt. “If I thought I could catch her, I would,” he replied with matching venom.

“We'll get the water Kindred back,” Cleo said. “And Amara will pay for what she's done.”

“I'm not sure I share your confidence,” Magnus said. Finally, he glanced at her over his shoulder: Princess Cleiona Bellos, her familiar beauty lit only by the moon and a few lanterns set along the docks.

He had yet to think of her as a Damora. She had once asked to keep her family name, as she was the last in her line, and he'd agreed. The king had chastised him for allowing her, a princess forced into an arranged marriage to help make the conquering royals more palatable to the conquered kingdom and hopefully stifle an immediate rebellion amongst the Auranian people, any liberties at all.

Despite the fur-lined cloak that she'd pulled over her head to shield her long golden hair from the snow, Cleo shivered. Her face was pale and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

She hadn't complained about the cold, not once on their swift journey from the Temple of Valoria to the city. They'd barely exchanged a single word until now.

Then again, far too many words had been exchanged between them the previous night, before chaos had descended.

“Give me one good reason why you wouldn't let Cronus kill me,”
she'd demanded when she'd finally cornered him, alone, at Lady Sophia's villa.

And instead of continuing to ignore or deny what he'd done—slaying the guard who'd been given the king's command to end the imprisoned princess's life—he'd given her an answer, the words tearing painfully from his throat as if he had no control over them.

“You are the only light I can see anymore,”
he'd whispered.
“And, whatever the cost, I refuse to let that light be extinguished.”

Magnus knew he'd given Cleo far too much power over him in that moment. He felt that weakness now—compounded by everything that had happened the night before, beginning with the earth-shattering kiss that had followed his foolish confession of her growing importance to him.

Thankfully that kiss had been interrupted before he'd lost himself completely.

“Magnus? Are you all right?” Cleo touched his arm, but he stiffened and pulled away from her, as if he'd been burned. Confusion fought with concern in her blue-green eyes.

“I'm fine,” he said.

“But your arm—”

“
I'm fine
,” he repeated, more firmly.

She pressed her lips together, her gaze hardening. “Good.”

“We need a plan,” Nic snapped. “And we need one now before we freeze to death out here.”

His tone tore Magnus's attention away from the princess and straight to the red-headed, freckle-faced boy who'd always seemed weak and useless . . . at least until tonight.

“You want a plan?” Magnus growled. “Here's my plan. Take your precious princess and leave. Board a ship for Auranos. Hike down to Paelsia. I don't care. I'll tell my father you're both dead. The only way you'll remain alive and well is if you go into exile.”

Nic's eyes flashed with surprise, as if this were the last thing he'd expected Magnus to say. “You mean it? We can go?”

“Yes, go.” It was the best decision for everyone. Cleo had become a dangerous distraction, and Nic was at best an annoyance and at worst a threat. “That is an order.”

He looked up at Cleo, expecting to see relief in the princess's eyes.

Instead, all he saw was outrage.

“An order, is it?” she hissed. “I'm sure it would make things much easier for you if we weren't around, yes? Much easier to find your sorceress sister and get your hands on the remaining crystals.”

The reminder of Lucia, who had eloped to Limeros with Alexius, her Watcher tutor, was an unexpected blow. There had been blood on the floor when they'd arrived at the temple—and it could have very well been Lucia's.

She has to be alive
. He refused to think any other way. She was alive, and when he found her he was going to kill Alexius.

“Think whatever you like, princess,” he said, returning to the more immediate issue. Of course he wanted the Kindred for himself. Did she expect he'd want to share it with the girl who, since nearly the moment they met, has been waiting for any opportunity
to reclaim her throne? The Kindred would give her the power to claim not just Auranos, but any other throne she wanted.

He needed that power in his hands—no one else's—and then finally he would have absolute control over his life and his future with no one to fear and no one to answer to.

Not even whatever it was that had happened between them earlier could change that. They were two people on opposite sides who both wanted the same thing, but only one could succeed. He wouldn't give up everything he'd ever wanted—not for anyone.

A flush of color had returned to the princess's cheeks, and her eyes flashed with frustration. “I'm not going anywhere. You and I will go to the palace together. And we will search for Lucia together. And when your father comes for us, we will face his wrath
together
.”

He glared down at the angry princess. She stared back up at him, without intimidation. Her shoulders back, her chin up, she was a burning torch in the middle of the cold, endless night.

How he wished he was strong enough to hate her.

“Very well,” he said through clenched teeth. “But remember, this decision was yours alone.”

• • •

The carriage reached the Limerian palace grounds and passed through the guarded checkpoint shortly after the sun had risen. Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Silver Sea, the black castle was in stark contrast to its pristinely white surroundings. Its obsidian towers rose up into the morning sky like the claws of a dark and powerful god.

Many found this to be an intimidating sight, but to Magnus, it was home. An odd flutter of nostalgia rushed through him; memories of simpler times, of riding and swordsmanship classes with the sons of local nobles. Of roaming the grounds with Lucia at his
side, a book always in her hands. Of the queen, venturing outside wrapped in furs to welcome important guests arriving for a banquet. Of his father returning with the fruits of a successful hunt, greeting his young son with a rare smile.

Everywhere he looked, there were ghosts of the past.

He exited the carriage and walked up the dozens of steps leading to the tall and heavy main doors, their ebony surface emblazoned with the Limerian cobra signet and the credo “Strength, Faith, Wisdom.” He could hear Cleo and Nic whisper conspiratorially to each other as they trailed behind him.

He'd given them ample chance to leave and face no consequences, and instead they had chosen to come here with him. They had only themselves to blame for whatever happened next.

Two guards stood before the entry doors, dressed in the stiff, red Limerian guard's uniforms with heavy black cloaks to help block out the cold. Magnus knew he needed no introduction. The guards bowed in unison.

“Your highness!” exclaimed one, before casting a look of surprise at Cleo and Nic. “
Highnesses
,” he clarified. “Are you well?”

With an awkwardly held broken arm, a bruised and bloodied face, and an overall disheveled appearance, Magnus wasn't surprised the guard had taken notice of this. “Well enough,” he said. “Open the doors.”

He didn't need to explain to a lowly guard why he had unexpectedly arrived in such a state. This was his home, and he had every right to be there whenever he wished, especially after barely escaping death at the hands of Amara's henchmen.

Still, he couldn't ignore the looming possibility that a message demanding his arrest had been sent to the castle by raven. But when the guards opened the doors without any argument, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He took a moment to compose himself as he entered the grand foyer, sweeping his gaze around and settling on the spiral stairway chiseled into the stone walls, as if checking for flaws. “Who is in command here with Lord Gareth still in Auranos? I assume he hasn't yet returned from his daughter's wedding celebration.”

“Lord Gareth isn't expected to return for several weeks. In his absence, Lord Kurtis was appointed grand kingsliege.”

Magnus found he did not have an immediate reply, and that perhaps he'd misheard the guard. “Lord Kurtis Cirillo has been appointed grand kingsliege?” he said after a moment.

“Yes, your highness.”

Kurtis Cirillo, Lord Gareth's eldest son, was currently in charge of Limeros. This came as a great surprise, as Magnus had heard a rumor several months ago that Kurtis had drowned while traveling abroad.

He was disappointed to learn that that rumor had now been proven false.

“I met you during my last visit here,” Cleo said to the guard as she pushed back the hood of her cloak. “Enzo, isn't it?”

“That's right.” The guard eyed with distress her ripped cloak and the dried blood staining her blond hair. “Your highness, do you need me to summon the palace physician?”

She absently touched the small but angry wound on her forehead, given to her by one of Amara's guards. “No, that's not necessary. Thank you.” She smiled, brightening her features. “You're very kind. I remember that from last time.”

Enzo's face quickly turned as red as his uniform. “You make it very easy to be kind, your grace.”

Magnus fought the urge to roll his eyes. It seemed that the princess had captured another hapless fly in her web.

“Enzo,” he said, voice low and commanding. The guard's gaze
immediately snapped to his. “Have Lord Kurtis meet me in the throne room immediately.”

Another bow. “Yes, your highness.” He scurried away without another word.

“Come,” Magnus said to Cleo and Nic, then turned on his boot heels and followed the familiar route through the castle to his destination.

“
Come
,” Nic sneered. “He orders us about like we're trained dogs.”

“I'm not sure the prince was ever taught the polite way to speak to people,” Cleo replied.

“And yet,” Magnus said, “you're still following me, aren't you?”

“For now. But you should remember that charm opens far more doors than harsh words do.”

“And a sharp ax will open every door.”

The entrance to the throne room was also stationed with several guards who bowed at the sight of Magnus. No ax was required as they pushed open the doors so quickly that he didn't even have to slow down.

Once inside, he scanned the cavernous room. His father's black throne of iron and leather sat at the top of a dais on one end, a long wooden table and chairs for council meetings at the other. The walls were draped in Limerian tapestries and banners, and several torches peppered the molding, bringing some light to the corners of the room where the sun shining through the large windows didn't reach.

The throne room was host to many official gatherings. It was where the king would grant audience to Limerian citizens and their various requests for financial assistance or justice against wrongdoings. It was where he would sentence prisoners for their crimes and perform ceremonies during which both the worthy and unworthy were given official titles such as Grand Kingsliege.

From the corner of his eye, Magnus noticed that Cleo had moved closer to him.

“You're already acquainted with Lord Kurtis,” Cleo said. “Aren't you?”

Magnus kept his gaze fixed on the throne. “I am.”

“And you don't like him.”

“I don't like anyone, princess.”

Nic snorted.

They fell into silence as Magnus considered how best to handle the complicated mess his life had become. He felt backed into a corner: injured, weaponless, and far too vulnerable. His broken arm throbbed, but instead of ignoring the pain he focused on it, to help clear his mind of the constant buzz of confusion and chaos.