Frozen Tides (21 page)

Jonas was about to respond when suddenly the outline of Olivia's form began to shimmer, and the air before her shifted. Her clothes dropped away, crumpling to the ground, and from them sprung a golden hawk, spreading its wings and flying up past the ring of fire, into the sky.

“Coward!” Kyan roared after her.

“Kyan,” Lucia said softly, placing her hands on his burning arm. “We need to leave. She's gone, and the rebel doesn't have the Kindred. We'll keep looking.”

But he wasn't listening, didn't even look at her. Instead, Kyan pulled his gaze from the sky and sent Jonas a look so fierce that he staggered back a step.

Beside Jonas, Nic frantically scanned the circle of fire. “We have to get out of here,” he said.

Lys nodded, her expression grim. “There must be a way.”

“You've been assisting an immortal in her quest,” Kyan snarled at Jonas, pulling away from Lucia. “You wish to see me trapped again? Tortured by my eternal imprisonment so lowly mortals won't need to fear my wrath?”

“I have no fight with you, whoever you are.” Jonas held his
hands up in a gesture of surrender, feeling the heat of the fire grow more intense behind him. “Honestly. I didn't know what she—”

“More lies!” Kyan thrust his hands out and, with a violent push, sent a blast of fire magic searing directly toward Jonas.

“No!” Lysandra screamed, and she shoved Jonas out of the way, knocking him to the ground. On her way down after him, she was struck in the heart by the spear of flames.

And then it disappeared.

She gasped and collapsed to her knees.

Jonas grabbed her, searching her for signs of damage. “Lys! Are you all right? Lys, please! Answer me!”

Her face was damp with perspiration, her breath coming in small, rattling gasps, but still she managed to grin up at him.

“You were in my way, you arse.”

A wave of both blind fury and pure relief overcame him, and Jonas smiled back at her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you, Lysandra Barbas?”

“What?” She blinked. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“And what about Cleo?”

He grinned. “Cleo who?”

“Nicolo.” Lucia's voice was quiet but firm as she interrupted the tender aftermath of Kyan's rage. “Get Jonas away from her before it's too late.”

Jonas glared up at her. “You and your friend need to leave. Now. Hear me? Come any closer and I swear I'll kill both of you.”

All the fight that had been glimmering in Lucia's eyes was gone, leaving only a sad, bleak expression. “I didn't mean for this to happen. I know you won't believe me, but I'm sorry. Nicolo, do it now!”

Without a word, Nic grabbed Jonas and yanked him away from Lysandra.

Jonas tried to break free. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Jonas?” Lys reached out toward him, a smile playing at her lips. “I love—”

Her sweet words were snapped into silence as a nest of flames burst up and blossomed from her chest, flowing over every inch of her body like lava.

“No!” Jonas shoved Nic away and scrambled to get to Lysandra, whose form had been transformed in an instant into a blazing column of amber fire.

The flames rose up and up, and with a violent lick they shifted from deep orange and amber to bright blue—the same shade as Kyan's eyes.

The sound of Lysandra's screams sliced through Jonas's very soul, and in one heartbreaking instant, the flames themselves shattered like glass, sending shards of blue crystal flying and falling all around them.

Leaving nothing behind.

With a breathless wail, Jonas crumpled in a hard heap to the ground, staring at the empty space where Lysandra had been only moments ago.

He stayed like that, motionless, tears burning in his eyes, for some time, and he didn't notice when the circle of fire disappeared, or watch as Lucia and Kyan left the abandoned market, leaving Jonas and Nic there all alone.

FELIX

KRAESHIA

F
elix woke up with the urgent knowledge that something was terribly wrong. If only he had any idea what it was.

He tried to ignore it, though, because life had never been better for him. He'd earned back King Gaius's trust. He'd traveled beyond the shores of Mytica for the first time ever, to the beautiful empire of Kraeshia. And a gorgeous princess had invited him to share her bed for not one, but seven nights.

Seven
. In a
row.

Felix's life had become so shiny and bright, so why did everything suddenly feel so damningly dark?

He crawled out of Princess Amara's huge feather bed, draped with green silks and diaphanous veils of pale gold, and hastily got dressed.

His stomach grumbled. Perhaps he could attribute this dark feeling to hunger—ever since his arrival in Kraeshia, he'd consumed too many fruits and vegetables and not nearly enough red meat.

“Felix, my pretty beast . . .” Amara said sleepily. She wrapped
her arms around his waist as he sat on the side of the bed to put on his boots. “Leaving me so soon?”

“Duty calls.”

She slid her hands down his bare chest. “But I don't want you to go yet.”

“The king might disagree.”

“Let him.” Amara pulled his face to hers and kissed him. “Who cares what the king thinks, anyway?”

“Well, me for one. I work for him. And he's very strict.”

“Leave him and work for me.”

“And be what? One of your lowly manservants?” He was surprised by the amount of poison in his voice. Where had that come from?

He knew theirs wasn't a relationship with any potential or future. Amara was a princess with a large appetite and a short attention span—nearly as short as his own. But of course he wasn't complaining. Amara was beautiful. Willing. Enthusiastic. Double-jointed.

So what the hell was wrong with him today that he wasn't thanking the goddess for his enviable current situation?

He cast a wary look at her as he stood up and her hands dropped away from his body.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “My pretty beast is grumpy this morning.”

He wasn't sure he liked that nickname, but knew enough not to correct her. “You know I'm not the grumpy sort.”

Amara leaned back against the pillows and watched him put on yesterday's shirt and coat. “Tell me,” she said, her tone less playful now, “what will happen if my father refuses the king's offer?”

They hadn't spoken a word about politics all week, which was fine with Felix. He wasn't the king's advisor or confidant,
nor did he have any interest in being anything more than his muscle and brawn.

“Don't know,” he said. “You think he'll refuse?”

Amara raised an eyebrow. “Do I think my father will refuse to hand over half his empire for a shiny bauble and a threat of magic?”

When he'd watched King Gaius wave the air Kindred under the emperor's nose, Felix had been certain the Silver Sea had risen up and crashed over him right there at the banquet. It had taken every last sliver of his strength to keep his expression neutral. “It does sound pretty crazy, doesn't it?”

Felix didn't know much about the crystal, but he knew enough to be sure that it didn't belong with an emperor who would use it to conquer the world.

Amara draped her long dark hair over her shoulder, absently twirling a tendril of it around her finger, as if lost in thought. “Is it true that King Gaius is in possession of all four Kindred?”

“He says he is, so he must be,” Felix lied. “But I've only seen the moonstone.”

“I wish the king had offered it to me.” Amara smiled conspiratorially. “Then perhaps you and I could rule the world together.”

“You and me, huh?”

“Can't you imagine how incredible that would be?”

“Look, princess, you don't have to say these kinds of things to me. You don't have to make me any promises. I'm perfectly happy with our arrangement, just as it is, for as long as you need me. However, with respect, my days belong to the king.”

Without giving her the chance to change his mind, he left her room. Once outside the door, he leaned against the hallway wall, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Is that a sigh of sadness or relief?”

Felix looked up to see Mikah, a palace guard he'd met upon his arrival.

“Look at you, just lingering out here in the hallway,” Felix said with displeasure. “You weren't listening in, were you?”

Mikah cocked his head. “Why? If I were, would I have heard anything other than sighs and heavy breathing? I'm quite accustomed to the princess's casual dalliances.”

“Happy to hear the two of you are so close,” Felix said with narrowed eyes as he started to walk away. “Now, if you'll excuse me—” Mikah grabbed Felix's arm, his grip tight enough to hurt. “Let go of me,” Felix growled.

Mikah didn't smile, didn't flinch. “Tell me,” he said, “have you fallen in love with her yet?”

Felix blinked. “What?”

“Answer the question.”

“Ah, I get it. You're a former
dalliance
, are you? A jealous one? Don't worry, there's nothing permanent between us. I'll be moving along soon so you can continue to moon over her. Now let go of me, or we're going to have a problem.”

Mikah studied him intently for another long moment, then released him roughly. “Good. Wouldn't want to see you get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself, but much gratitude for your concern.”

• • •

“The king wants you to go check on the ship,” Milo told Felix later that day. “Ensure it's suitable for departure at a moment's notice.”

“And he sent you to give me the order?” Felix eyed the other guard skeptically.

Milo shrugged. “Just passing along information. The king is busy.”

“His majesty wants a swift escape, does he?” he said aloud.

Milo nodded, his expression pinched. “The swifter the better, it would seem.”

The two hadn't discussed the king's offer—or, rather,
ultimatum
—to the emperor, but they'd most certainly exchanged worried glances during the banquet. After all, they were the ones responsible for saving the king's neck, even when he'd willingly bared it to a known enemy's blade.

Felix lowered his voice. “Does King Gaius really think the emperor will simply let us sail away without consequence?”

A muscle in Milo's left cheek twitched. “I'm not aware of the king's thoughts. . . .”

“Nor am I.”

“But if I were . . .” Milo continued, his expression as grim as Felix had seen it since their first meeting, when they set sail from Auranos, “I would start to prepare for a very hasty departure.”

What would the king expect his bodyguards to do if the emperor chose to answer with wrath rather than agreement?

Assassinate the most powerful leader in the known world in his very home and expect to walk away unscathed?

Finally, he nodded with a firm jerk of his head. “I'll check on the ship immediately.”

• • •

It seemed that Felix had fooled himself into smelling nothing but roses upon gaining the king's favor once again, but this was, truly, the deepest and foulest pile of dung he'd ever waded into.

As he walked along the main dock under the intense heat of the mid-day sun after checking on the Limerian ship, an image slid through his mind. Jonas, pinned to the floor by the dagger. The rebel had stared up at him, pain and accusation in his eyes, as Felix pocketed the air Kindred.

“Yeah, well, he deserved it,” he mumbled to himself.

Had he? Had Jonas really deserved to be so abused by someone he'd previously trusted? Jonas, who had done nothing but continue to try to do what was right and good, despite failure after failure?

Perhaps they could have made peace if Felix hadn't been such an impatient, rage-filled arse who solved all of his problems with his fists.

He'd been with the Clan for eight years. Eight years as an assassin before he tried to choose a different path.

He'd been nothing more than an innocent kid when he was first recruited. An innocent kid chosen and plucked up by the king, who gave him no choice but to become a murderer.

He stopped at the storage house at the far end of the dock and smashed his fist into the glittering stonework. He'd always found that physical pain helped clear his head and chase away ugly memories.

Bad things happened when he thought too deeply about the past.

“Stop this,” he gritted out. “Life is good. The future is bright. And I'm going to—”

Felix lurched back as someone grabbed his arm and shoved him backward. He hit the wall of the storage house hard, his vision swimming.

He blinked back his focus just in time to see a fist heading directly for his jaw. He caught it, thrusting forward so the blow landed across his assailant's face instead.

“Don't try me today,” Felix growled. “I'm not in a forgiving mood.”

“Funny. Neither am I,” Felix's attacker said, rubbing his jaw and grinning. The young man had bronze shoulder-length hair that was tied at the nape of his neck. “Impressive maneuver. Did your Cobra friends teach you that?”

So this attacker knew exactly who he was. That wasn't good.

He eyed their surroundings to find that the large building shielded them from the view of the people on the busy docks. Only the scent of salty water-weed and the squawk of seabirds populated this isolated patch of the shoreline.

“As a matter of fact, they did. And this, too.” He swung his fist, but the assailant ducked, then punched Felix in the gut. He doubled over, giving his attacker ripe opportunity to bring his arm up in an uppercut, hitting Felix right under his jaw. Felix wheezed out a breath and dropped to the ground like a bag of hammers.

“That felt quite good,” the long-haired young man said. “I've been itching for a fight for some time.”

As he sat, gasping for breath, on the ground, Felix heard someone else approaching from the far side of the storage building. “That's enough for today,” said a voice that Felix recognized.

Felix looked up to see Mikah, standing next to the brute and looking calm as ever. “Following me, are you?” Felix said. “I'd take it as a compliment, but you're not really my type.”

“On your feet,” Mikah commanded.

“I don't take orders from you.”

“Fine, then sit there. I don't care. This won't take long anyway.”

“Are you here to kill me? Or try to?”

Mikah leaned over until he was eye level with Felix. “You have a death wish—I can see it in your eyes. I'm sorry to say I won't help you with that today.”

“Oh, my. You can read minds, too?” Felix pushed himself to his feet. Surely these two figured his new injuries made him an easy target. But that was exactly what he wanted them to think. It was all part of the game he'd learned from the Clan: Keep the target guessing; let them get in a couple of hits and, just when they think they've won, go in for the kill.

Felix knew he could take on this pair if he had to. But first he needed to know what they wanted with him.

“Are you here to harass me about Princess Amara again?” Felix rolled his eyes. “Jealousy really doesn't suit you, friend.”

“This has nothing to do with the princess.”

“Good. You'd hate to have me as a romantic rival. Now tell me what you want.”

“I don't like this one,” the long-haired young man said, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“You don't have to,” Mikah replied.

“You trust him?”

“Of course not. He's a Limerian.”

“You do know I'm still standing right here?” Felix reminded them. “And I can hear you loud and clear. Now, I'll ask you one more time: What does a Kraeshian guard and his little minion want with me, a common thug working for the king of Mytica?”

Mikah regarded him skeptically for a long moment, while his friend stood by holding eager fists at his sides. “I wear this uniform, but I'm not really a guard. And though you're dressed in finery that hides the mark of the Cobra I know you have on your arm, I don't believe for one moment that you're a servant to the king or a common thug.” A sly smile spread across Mikah's face, which only piqued Felix's curiosity more. Mikah went on. “I'm here, in this uniform, because I'm a revolutionary. I've earned this position at the palace to gain information about the royal family.” He nodded at his friend. “This is Taran. He's not originally from Kraeshia, but he's joined our worthy fight to rid the empire of the Cortas regime.”

This, he didn't expect. It seemed he couldn't wash his hair of all the rebels all over the world. “Well. That . . . sounds like a rather
lofty goal. I wish you the best of luck. But what does it have to do with me?”

“We want your help.”

Felix had to laugh. “And why would I help you?”

Taran stepped forward, his posture softer now, but his brown eyes still full of anger. “If you only saw the truth here in Kraeshia. If you knew what the emperor does to anything and anyone that doesn't meet his standards . . . you wouldn't hesitate to join us.” Taran's expression darkened. “The man is a monster. He sends his armies off to invade and conquer every chartered land out there, picking and choosing at random what he wants to keep, and then discarding and destroying the rest—and, yes, that includes citizens as well as property and possessions.”

“Yours is a country constantly at war. People die in wars,” Felix reasoned. “Often people who don't deserve to.”

Mikah shook his head. “This is not an ideology I'll ever accept. Brute force—relentless greed—is not right, and I'll do anything I can to stop it.”

“So it's just the two of you, huh? And you're looking for new recruits?”