Claiming the Prince: Book One (39 page)

She lowered the saddlebags to the ground and shrugged the coil of gorgon rope off her shoulder, letting it fall next to the bags. “Looks like we’re spending the night.”

Kaelan dug into his pack and then tossed her an apple.

“Thanks,” she said as she slumped down to the ground.

He opened up the water gourd and gave it a shake. “How much rain water do you think I can catch?”

“Good luck with that. Just don’t slip,” she said, crunching into the apple.

He edged by Gur, who flicked his tail, but gave no other sign of being disturbed. Once on the other side of the snoozing semargl’s considerable bulk, Kaelan disappeared from view.

Dropping her head back, Magda shifted in the armor. Well-worn and flexible as the scales were, the weight would take some getting used to again. All of this was taking some getting used to.

Spending the afternoon recounting her every memory of Cae had left her raw and tired. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to think about him. She’d taught herself early on not to dwell on the past, or the dead. Better to let it go, forget about it, move on. There was too much pain in such memories to do anyone any good.

She gazed blankly at the cave wall, where the murals were faded to all but a few flecks of paint. And then shadows began to close together, thickening, coalescing, swirling.

Before she could warn Kaelan, Endreas was there, leaning against the wall, dark eyes fixed on her.

“Endreas,” she said loudly enough that she hoped Kaelan could hear over the white noise of rain and ocean waves.

“You look rather morose,” he said.

She laid the half-eaten apple on the saddlebags. “How should I look?”

He lowered into a crouch, knitting his fingers together before him. “I’m sorry, magpie.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I didn’t have anything to do with that attack. I only heard about it afterwards. Now my father wants you dead for killing his pride of manticores . . . and for making threats against his life.”

She resisted the urge to look in Kaelan’s direction.

“Did you come here to warn me?” she asked.

“What happened to him?”

“To whom?”

“My brother. His body.”

“Why do you want to know that? He’s dead, isn’t that enough for you?”

“He may be dead, but he’s still my brother. He deserves a proper burial.”

She surged up to her feet, but she couldn’t see over Gur, who watched the exchange through slitted eyes.

“Your family had him assassinated. They murdered him. Even if I had his body, I would never give it to you.”

Endreas rose as well, languidly. “He is a Prince. He should be buried with the rest of the family.”

“Are you insane? You’re not his family. And I can’t believe that you have the nerve to come here and make such a request in the first place. Do you know what he went through? Do you know much he suffered? Do you have any idea what it feels like be poisoned? To be slowly suffocated to death as your throat swells shut?” She unleashed her blades, all except the ironwood. She would keep it hidden, until she needed it. “Leave.”

He glanced warily at her blades. “I understand that his death has caused you a great deal of pain. I probably understand better than you think.”

“I doubt that.”

“My sister told me he made a heart-place of you before he died.”

Her jaw clenched. “Your sister doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

His eyes narrowed, searching her face. “I think she does.”

“I don’t want to talk—”

“It has left a wound,” he cut in. “It will never heal—”

“All death does that, if you have a heart.”

“This is different,” he said with a sudden ferocity that left her momentarily stunned. “You think this is normal grief, but it’s not. If you’re not careful, it could kill you too.”

“What?”

He ran his gloved hand over his mouth. “By giving you a piece of his heart, he . . . connected your life forces. Like how the Crown and the Throne are connected. When one fails, the other suffers. Normally, a Prince would not make another person into a heart-place. It’s too dangerous, especially if he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

She held up her hand. “Wait. You’re saying what? That if he dies . . . since he died, I’m going to die too?”

“Not necessarily, but it’s possible. The reason a Prince doesn’t make another person his heart-place is because when one dies, if the other doesn’t, it usually leads to some form of madness and, eventually, death—”

“You’re saying I’m going to go crazy, and then, what? Kill myself?”

“Or many others. I don’t know what will happen. Since he gave it to you so shortly before he died, it’s possible it never took root and you’ll be fine. But it’s also possible it is slowly eating away at you. Inside.”

Like a hollow gnawing.

“Is it?” he asked.

“What if it were?” she asked.

He edged closer. “I can help you, magpie.”

“How?”

“By giving you an . . .
a
piece of my heart to replace the loss of his.”

She shifted back. At that same moment, Kaelan stepped past the semargl, in Damion’s skin.

Endreas turned on his heel to face Damion. “You should’ve said your cousin was with us.”

She moved between them, drawing back her daggers, facing Endreas.

“I think it’s time you leave now,” she said.

“Magpie, if you’re—”

“I don’t need your help. And I don’t want a piece of your heart.”

“You’d rather go mad?” he asked.

“It must be like you said. It never took root. I’m fine.”

His eyes narrowed, searching her face. “I’m not willing to take that chance—”

“It’s not your choice,” she cut in.

His fists curled.

Kaelan pressed closer to Magda without actually touching her. Remote as his emotions had grown, she could still feel the burning hatred radiating off of him. It caused a fine sweat to break out across her back.

Endreas’s gaze flicked past her to Kaelan, who he thought was Damion, and then returned to her.

“This is serious, magpie—”

“The only thing driving me crazy right now,” she said through her teeth, “is the fact that you’re still here.”

“You’re far from the Spire. Lavana has the family hard at work, trying to convince the Crown to name her Radiant.”

“Well, I can fly,” she said, cocking her head back towards Gur. “Unless you’re planning on taking him back.”

Gur let out a creaky growl.

“He clearly prefers you to me,” Endreas said. “I don’t blame him. I like you more than I like myself too.”

“I doubt that,” she said.

“You won’t,” he said.

Kaelan stepped forward, aggressively, edging up beside her and bumping her shoulder. Magda pressed her hand to his chest.

“My cousin doesn’t approve of you,” she said to him. “No one will. You know that, don’t you? The Pixies will never accept an Elf as their ruler, even as co-ruler with the Crown.”

“You might be surprised.” He regarded Kaelan/Damion for a long moment.

Magda’s pulse revved into high gear. But if Endreas sensed Eris’s magic at work, he gave no sign.

Finally, he said, “Lavana has claimed Riker. So you will have a greater challenge now that you have no Prince. It is all the more likely you will have to fight.” His gaze raked over her. “I’m glad to see you’ve found some armor . . . even such as that.”

She cursed under her breath. Poor Riker. Then again, he was probably content enough. Lavana had the wealth to pamper him.

Chewing her lip, she debated whether or not to tip Endreas off that she had a line on another Prince. If so, it might buy her some time by preventing the Crown from closing the selection window early at Lavana’s behest. Clearly, he was in contact with Lavana, and possibly others at court as well. Were Elf spies embedded at the Spire? Or even worse, were there Pixies working for the Throne? She hated to think it, but had to acknowledge it was possible.

Cae had always told her she needed to be more of a risk taker. Of course, he’d been killed for his bravado.

“I might have a Prince after all,” she ventured.

Kaelan’s chest tensed under her palm.

Endreas’s eyebrow rose. “Is that so? Who?”

“None of your damned business, Elf,” she said.

He touched his chest as if wounded. “Well, I look forward to meeting him. Just remember, if you want him to live, don’t claim him.” He took a step closer, but Kaelan seized her arm and drew her alongside him.

Endreas froze. “You may feel fine now, magpie, but if anything changes, if you have any thoughts . . . of harming yourself. Find me, please.”

“So you can give me a piece of your heart? Wouldn’t that put me right back in the same position I’m already in? You just want me to go mad when you die instead?”

“Once you take the Crown and we are joined, our fates will be tied. We will die together anyway, you see?”

Kaelan’s fingers dug painfully into the underside of her arms. His rage strafed over her in broad burning swaths.

“Yes, I see that you are one cocky son of a bitch. Now get the hell out of here.”

Endreas bowed. “Until we meet again, magpie, I’ll miss you.” He winked and was swallowed by the shadows.

Kaelan’s hand dropped from her as though he’d been holding onto her for her own sake.

He stalked through the place where Endreas had stood.

She bit the inside of her cheek, not sure what to say.

When he turned, his face was his own again, his eyes blazed. “He’s in love with you.”

She frowned. Of all the things he could’ve said, that wasn’t what she’d expected.

“I—”

“I knew you had feelings for him, but—” His gaze swept the cave as if he were afraid Endreas lingered still.

She crossed her arms. “But what? You didn’t think they were mutual?”

He scowled. “Have you kissed him?”

“You’re not at all interested in anything else he said? You want to know if I kissed him? Do you want to know if I fucked him too?”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I think you do. But I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. It’s none of your damned business.”

“It is my business!” he erupted, causing Gur to lift his head and open his eyes wide. Kaelan moved closer, lowering his voice to a growl. “If you’re in love with him, then I can’t trust you. He wants me dead, Magda. Or would you like it better if I called you magpie?”

She shoved him hard. He stumbled back, but the stony set of his face never wavered. The fire in his eyes only grew hotter.

“I already told you I had feelings for him. And I told you that those feelings didn’t matter because I wasn’t going to join with him, ever. Because
I
don’t trust
him
.”

“How did he find you?”

Her righteous anger faltered.

“Have you been communicating with him? Or maybe that thing is his spy.” Kaelan pointed behind her at the semargl.

Gur bared his teeth, tail lashing.

“I don’t know how he found us,” she said, measuring her tone. “How do you find where you’re going in the Shadow Realms?”

He frowned, righteousness stalling out.

“I know you hate him,” she said, holding up her hands, placating, “and with good reason. Don’t you think that’s part of the reason I hate him too? That he can be so easily dismissive of his own brother’s life?”

“I find places in the Shadow Realms, not people,” he grumbled.

“Well, maybe he can find people and not places,” she shot back. “You two aren’t identical if you hadn’t noticed.”

“No, he’s manipulative and cavalier and domineering, just like Cae was, right?”

Her hands balled into fists. “He is nothing like Cae.”

He shook his head as if dismissing her and it was all she could do not to break his nose.

“You knew,” he said softly, “didn’t you? About the heart-place? Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t know anything. Other than what Ilene said while you were dying,”—she lofted a brow—“but I wasn’t paying much attention to her at the time.”

He blew out a heavy breath. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the one who did it.”

“I was panicking. I was dying,” he said, kneading his fist into his palm. “I was looking for anything to hold onto—”

“And foolish me, I was there to be held. So now I have to worry that if you die, I’ll go mad.” Which was exactly what had started to happen when he had died, she saw that now.

“And what happens to me if you die?” he asked.

“You think twice about being such an imp-hole?”

He prowled to the back of the cave. “Is this why . . .?” He half-turned towards her. “I need to know more about what a heart-place is. How it works.”

“You and me both, but we have bigger issues to deal with at the moment.”

“Do we?” he asked. “Ever since I came back from the dead, I’ve been struggling.”

“We’ve all been struggling.”

“I know,” he snapped and then more calmly, “I know. But everything keeps getting worse, and there’s never time to think. I feel like . . . I need to get away from you.”

She hadn’t expected anything he said to hurt her, yet it did. Maybe it had something to do with the bit of his heart he’d stowed away inside of her.

Keeping her tone cool, she said, “I told you that you don’t have to—”

“Not forever,” he said. “I just wish there was time to breathe. We’re always running or flying or fighting. When I start to think I’ve got a grasp on the situation something like this happens, and then I’m right back where I started.”

“Nothing’s changed. You knew I had feelings for Endreas. So what? I have feelings for lots of things, but that doesn’t change what I’m going to do. And as far as I can see, I’m the one who’s bound to suffer because you gave me a piece of your heart. I was already worried you would die—again. But now I understand why it affected me the way it did. Endreas was right. If you die, I’ll go mad. The last time, I was ready to hunt down the King and kill him myself. And I would’ve tried.
That
is madness. You did something to me that I didn’t ask for. And now it’s inside of me, like a bomb waiting to—”

“I’m sorry,” he said.