Rebel Spring (29 page)

And she was. Lucia’s magic growled and paced in its cage. She wasn’t in love with Magnus and she despised such an accusation. How would Cleo like to know that it was actually Magnus who felt the unnatural and disgusting love for
her
?

But had that changed? Had this girl seduced Magnus and taken him away from Lucia forever? He was ready to be hers—now and always. She didn’t want him romantically, but she didn’t want to lose him to this meaningless princess.

Irrational—I’m being irrational.

At that moment, she didn’t really care.

Fire magic was the closest to the surface, and her mind reached for it even without her conscious permission. The unlit torches set into the walls of the library caught fire and began to blaze hot and bright. A crack began to slither down a large stained glass window before it shattered, shards of glass raining down on the smooth floor.

Cleo’s head whipped in the direction of the broken window and the torches, her eyes widening with alarm.

“What’s happening? Is it another quake?” Her gaze snapped back to Lucia, who now had her fists clenched at her sides, trying with all her might to calm herself before something truly horrible happened.

Before she lit her brother’s bride on fire and listened to her dying screams.

Sudden clarity reached Lucia with the force of a fist slamming into her stomach and she gasped out loud. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t her. Something was making her act irrationally and violently. It was her
elementia
. It had closed its hand on the back of her neck like a master with a favored pet, controlling her, commanding her.

The torches returned to a normal height, still lit but now flickering harmlessly as they added more light to the already bright room.

“It’s nothing.” Lucia echoed Cleo’s previous words as she brushed past the wide-eyed princess to go farther into the library. She had research to do. She wouldn’t let this stupid girl continue to distract her. The broken glass crunched under the leather soles of her shoes. “A trick of the light, I’m sure. Nothing more.”

T
here was no time to wait. He had to speak with Cleo
now
. Nic searched the castle until he finally found her outside in the sunny courtyard seated upon a bench, surrounded by trees heavy with fruit and fragrant blossoms. She was so intent on her reading that she didn’t hear him approach. He glanced over her shoulder to see that she was immersed in a book so old its pages were yellow and brittle. She slid her index finger over an illustration of a ring with a large stone and a band like winding ivy.

“That looks like your ring,” he said with surprise.

She slammed the book closed and turned to face him, her eyes wide. Then she exhaled shakily. “Oh, Nic. It’s just you.”

He’d rarely seen her as nervous as this. Nic looked toward the four other guards who kept watch over this area. They each stood against the stone walls as still as statues, far enough away that Nic and Cleo didn’t risk being overheard by them.

Cleo’s knuckles had tightened on the book she now clutched to her chest. Nic tilted his head to read the title:
Song of the Sorceress
.

He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. He had something to say and he needed to speak before they were interrupted. Privacy for a member of the palace guard—even a reluctant one like him—was fleeting.

“We need to escape this place,” Nic whispered. “We must go while we can, while there’s a chance to leave here undetected. We need to leave tonight.”

“No, Nic.” Cleo’s eyes locked with his. “This is my palace, my throne. I can’t leave. Not yet.”

“I’ve been thinking about it every day, and I’ve reached a breaking point, Cleo. When the prince returns . . . I can’t protect you from him every hour of the day and night. I won’t let him kill you like he did Mira.”

“Nic.” Pain flashed through her eyes at the mention of her lost friend. “I mourn Mira as deeply as you do, but it was the king who killed your sister.” She placed the book down beside her and grasped his hands. “Magnus spared your life—and he protected me in Limeros during the assassination attempt.”

He stared at her incredulously. “Are you really attempting to defend the same boy who murdered Theon? Who stood next to his father as they conquered this kingdom? You’re not . . . you’re not falling in love with him, are you?”

Cleo flinched as if he’d slapped her. “I’m doing nothing of the sort. I despise Magnus and I always will.”

He swallowed hard, ignoring the flash of guilt that he’d accuse her of something so unfathomable. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to leave this place and never look back.”

“Because it holds my childhood and sixteen years of happiness. It holds memories of Emilia and my father—and of your sister as well. This is my kingdom—
our
kingdom.”

“It’s different now.”

“You’re right. It is.” Cleo glanced down at the book, placing her hand on its cover. She paused for a few long moments, and then he saw her take a deep breath. “All right. You saw the drawing in here. You saw the ring and how much it looks like the one I now wear.”

He frowned. What was she getting at? “I did.”

She met his eyes. “That’s because they are one and the same. My father gave this ring to me in his dying moments.” Her voice caught. “There’s very little tangible information about it, but some believe it is a key to locating the Kindred and harnessing its power. It is the very same ring that the sorceress Eva possessed, which allowed her to touch the crystals without being corrupted by their power. I need to find those crystals, Nic. I need their magic. With it, I will defeat King Gaius and take back my kingdom.”

His head spun. “Your words . . . they’re mad.”

“No, this is real. I know it is.”

Nic tried to process everything she was saying, but one thing stood out, something he couldn’t get past. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before now?”

She faltered. “I didn’t want to endanger you—and I wasn’t sure what to do, what to believe. Not completely. But I do now. This book confirms what I already knew to be true. My ring can help me destroy King Gaius.”

His gut churned, but despite such revelations, one thing stayed true from the moment he walked out here. His goal had not changed. “If anyone else learns that you possess this ring . . .” He took her hand in his, the purple stone cold against his skin. “We’ll leave tonight and we’ll find it together.”

Her gaze turned bleak. “Nic. Please understand that I can’t leave.”

There had to be a reason why she resisted this plan, which solved so many problems. And he could think of only one. It was one that tortured him. “When you kissed him in Limeros, it looked so real—it looked like you
wanted
to kiss him.”

Cleo groaned with frustration and pulled her hands from him. “I already told you that whatever you saw between us was for show only.”

He had believed that at the time. But the image of Magnus drawing the princess to him and kissing her before the cheering crowd had worked like a slow-moving poison injected beneath his skin. He had to get this out. He had to speak from his heart or he knew it would be too late.

Nic took her hands in his again and knelt before her. “I love you, Cleo. More than anything in this world. I beg you to run away with me—away from all this.”

The other guards had finally taken notice of the two and drawn closer.

“Is everything all right, your highness?” one called out to her.

“Yes, of course. My friend is just being silly.” She smiled sweetly in their direction before casting a sterner look at Nic. “You’re going to get yourself thrown in the dungeon for such foolish behavior.”

Pain blossomed in his chest as if he’d been struck by a blade. He was silent for a moment, his disappointment crushing him. He pushed back up to his feet. His heart was a heavy weight. “I need to go. I need to think.”

“Nic!”

He left the courtyard without looking back.

• • •

• • • 

“Another.” Nic signaled for the server. He’d lost count of how many drinks this would make. And he planned on many more before he’d pass out later on his hard cot in the servants’ quarters.

“She doesn’t love me,” he slurred, tossing back the glass of fiery liquid. “So be it. May both our unavoidable deaths be swift and painless here in the heart of our enemy’s lair.”

The tavern was called the Beast, because it looked like a great black creature crawling up out of the dirt. Also, because it was well known to give its patrons a beast of a headache the following morning. At the current moment, Nic really didn’t care.

“You look like you’ve had a rather bad day.” The voice was lightly edged with an exotic accent. “Does the drink help?”

Through his haze of alcohol Nic was surprised to see Prince Ashur of Kraeshia take a seat next to him. He knew the prince had chosen to remain in Auranos after the wedding, temporarily residing in the west wing of the castle. All palace guards had been ordered to keep a close watch on the handsome bachelor—orders that came from the king himself. Some of the guards whispered that the king saw the prince as a threat to his power. After all, Ashur’s father had conquered half the known world as easily as taking candy from a baby.

For a moment, Nic couldn’t find his voice.

“It’s a wine made from fermented rice, imported overseas from Terrea,” he finally replied. “And, no, it doesn’t help. Not yet, anyway. But give me time.”

“Server,” Prince Ashur called out. “Another fermented rice wine for my friend Nic, and for me.”

Nic eyed him curiously as the server delivered the two glasses moments later. “You know my name.”

“I do indeed.”

“How?”

“I’ve asked about you.” The prince tossed back the drink, his dark brows drawing together with a grimace. “Now that is
deeply
unpleasant.”

“What have you asked about me, might I . . . uh, ask?”

A lock of ebony hair had come loose from the tie at the nape of his neck and fallen across the prince’s forehead. He pushed it back. “I know you’re good friends with the princess. I saw you speaking with her earlier today in the courtyard—and it did not strike me as a conversation between a princess and a guard. Despite your guard’s uniform, I believe you to be one with both influence and knowledge in the palace.”

“Then you’d be wrong.” He glanced at the prince from the corner of his eye. Perhaps the king was right to worry about this prince. Nic wondered with an edge of worry what the prince might have overheard today. “Where are your bodyguards?”

Ashur shrugged. “Around, I suppose. I’m not an advocate of being swarmed.”

“You should know that the City of Gold is not without its dangers.”

The prince eyed him with amusement. “Duly noted.”

Nic’s gaze moved to the twin daggers the prince had sheathed to either side of his leather belt. Perhaps the prince could protect himself just fine without comment or concern.

Five . . . six . . . ten drinks, and Nic found he had few filters attached to his tongue that might keep him from speaking disrespectfully. “What do you want from me, your grace?”

The amused expression remained on the prince’s handsome face. “To talk.”

“About what?”

Ashur swirled the next drink in his glass. “About Princess Cleo’s amethyst ring.”

Nic went very still. Until today he’d never given a thought to Cleo’s ring. “The princess has a lot of jewelry. I don’t keep track of it.”

“I think you know the one I’m talking about. After all, you’re her closest confidant.” He raised an eyebrow. “Although, perhaps not as close as you’d like to be.”

The prince looked at Nic as if he knew more than he possibly could. It was unsettling. Again, he wondered how much of the conversation with Cleo this man could have heard, unseen by either of them. Or was he only guessing?

Nic shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “The princess is not a subject I wish to discuss.”

Ashur smiled gently. “Unrequited love is a painful thing, isn’t it?”

Something in Nic’s chest twisted. He didn’t like how this prince seemed to know him so well, seemed to look inside his soul so deeply. “The worst.”

“Tell me what you know about the Kindred.” Ashur leaned his chin on his fist as he studied Nic. “I believe it’s real. Do you?”

“It’s just a silly legend.” It came out in a whisper as his heart began to race.

Why was the prince asking these things?

“My father has conquered many lands filled with great riches. He doesn’t believe Mytica is large enough to hold anything to be interested in. But he’s wrong. I believe Mytica is the most important realm that has ever existed. I believe Mytica is the gateway to great magic that lies dormant across all parts of this world, including Kraeshia. Therefore, I’m here to find out if the ‘silly’ legends are true. And one of those legends happens to concern a rather special ring.”

Nic downed his latest drink in one quick gulp. “Apologies, your grace, but if you’re here in Auranos chasing after legends and magic, then you’ll be sorely disappointed. Cleo wears a ring her father gave her before he died, that’s all. It has no further significance than that.”

“King Gaius must know about the Kindred,” Prince Ashur continued, undeterred. “And I would imagine he wants it very badly. Without powerful magic to strengthen his hold upon this kingdom, he could be so easily crushed. Do you think he realizes this? But what does his Imperial Road have to do with anything? I believe he has ulterior motives for building it—motives that tie directly to the search for the Kindred. So many of his army patrol the road, spread thin across the three kingdoms of Mytica, leaving his castles in both Limeros and Auranos vulnerable to attack from overseas. Sounds like the move of an obsessed king with a very specific goal to me. What do you think?”

Despite the drinks, Nic’s mouth had gone bone dry. “I have no idea how to respond to such statements.”

“Are you sure about that? I think you have far more to offer someone like me than even you realize.” Ashur leaned forward, locking his gaze with Nic’s. The prince’s eyes stood out from his dark skin, a pale grayish blue, like the surface of the Silver Sea itself.

Nic’s heart pounded so loud and fast he couldn’t hear the buzz of conversation in the tavern anymore. “I wish you a very pleasant evening. Good night, Prince Ashur.”

He left the tavern and began walking through the maze of buildings and cobblestone streets to find his way back to the palace. However, soon he found himself hopelessly lost. Ten . . . eleven . . . fifteen drinks. How many had he had?

“Oh, Nic,” he mumbled. “Not good. Not good at all.”

Especially not when he realized someone now followed him.

He continued to walk swiftly while long, shadowy fingers seemed to reach out toward him. He kept a hand at his belt, prepared to draw his sword on any attackers. The city had its share of thieves and pickpockets ready to kill if they thought they might get caught. King Gaius was famous for his ill treatment of prisoners, and no one wanted to find themselves in his already overly crowded dungeons.

Nic turned the next corner and stumbled to a halt when he found himself in a blind alleyway.

“Lost?” It was Prince Ashur’s voice that rose up behind him.

Tensing, he turned slowly. “Maybe a little.”

The prince’s gaze swept the length of him. “Perhaps I can help.”

Still no bodyguards. This prince walked the streets of a potentially lethal city with no protection.

Had he been able to tell that Nic had lied? What was he willing to do to get the truth about the Kindred and Cleo’s ring? And how fiercely could Nic defend that truth?

“I’ll tell you nothing,” Nic said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t care what you do to me.”

Ashur laughed at this. “You sound rather paranoid. Is that how wine from Terrea affects you? I’d suggest sticking with the Paelsian vintages from now on.”

The lightness of the reply didn’t set Nic’s mind at ease in the slightest. His survival instincts, while currently dulled by drink, paced back and forth with growing alarm. The twin daggers the prince carried drew his attention again.