Read Falling Kingdoms Online

Authors: Morgan Rhodes,Michelle Rowen

Tags: #Romance, #Adventure, #Young Adult, #Fantasy

Falling Kingdoms (16 page)

BOOK: Falling Kingdoms
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“It is
elementia
,” she said, a catch to her voice. “Specifically air magic, I think—the ability to move things. And fire, too. Cleiona was the goddess of fire and air. And she was evil!”

Magnus didn’t speak for a full minute, his eyes cast downward at the marble floor. Slowly, he raised his gaze to his sister’s. “Can you lift anything heavier than a flower?”

“I don’t know. Please, Magnus, tell me what to do. Don’t hate me for keeping this secret for so long. You can’t turn your back on me now.”

He frowned. “You think I’d do that?”

“If this magic is evil—”

“It’s not,” he said firmly.

She frowned. “Witches have been tortured and executed for what I can do.”

“If a witch could really do what you can, she would never let herself be executed.” As he said it, the certainly of his words rang true to him. “If anyone burned or beheaded had been capable of true magic, they would’ve been able to use that magic to save themselves.”

“You don’t think witches are evil?” Her blue eyes held deep uncertainty—and hope. She’d been tormented by this secret she had held inside her for so long without anyone to help her.

Magnus moved closer to her and cupped her face in his hands. “All I know is that you aren’t evil. You are wonderful in every possible way. And don’t you ever believe anything different from that or I’ll be very angry with you.”

She touched his hand, leaning into his touch. A sliver of relief slid through her blue eyes. “You mean it?”

“With all my heart.” He raised an eyebrow. “Would I give such a fine gift as that fluffy bunny to anyone I thought might be evil?”

She laughed softly, and the sound lightened his heart. “I named her Hana.”

“Lovely name. For a fluffy bunny.”

“What am I to do, Magnus?”

He moved away from her and toward her stack of books. He picked a few, placing them down on her table next to the vase of flowers.

“Lift these books.”

Lucia’s eyes widened and she looked down at the heavy stack. “I’ve never attempted anything more substantial than a flower.”

His jaw tightened. “You need to strengthen your skills. The stronger you are, the less I’ll have to worry about you. If you master what you can do, then you’ll be safe no matter what happens. And I’ll help you practice.”

He held his breath waiting for her answer. If Lucia really was a witch, with newly awakened
elementia
, there was no other choice. She
had
to practice. She had to strengthen her abilities. Because if anyone ever found out about this, especially the king, her very life would be in danger.

Magnus would never allow his sister to be executed for this. Lucia wasn’t evil. He had trouble believing in the religion that was forced upon all Limerians, but he didn’t have trouble believing in her.

Lucia’s brows drew together. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Then don’t do it for yourself. Do it for me.”

Her gaze snapped to his. “If I do agree to try this, will you do something for me?”

“What?”

“Tell me why Father would join forces with Chief Basilius to conquer Auranos. Will there be war?”

He’d seen Lucia on the stairway when the king had received the message from the Paelsian leader. It was dangerous information for a sixteen-year-old girl to know, but before long she would have learned anyway. It seemed as if Amia was not the only girl in this castle skilled at eavesdropping.

“Will there be war?” Magnus repeated. “That’s what Father wants. We’ll have to wait and see where all his planning and scheming with Chief Basilius will ultimately lead. But you don’t have to worry about that.” He stroked the long, silky dark hair off her face. “Let’s practice your magic now. You must master it so I know you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you, brother.” Lucia went up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips softly against his before she gave him another fierce hug. “What would I ever do without you?”

Magnus’s lips burned from her kiss and his heart felt as if it had been set ablaze—just like the witch once had been. “I hope we’ll never have to find out.”

T
heon Ranus had experienced anger, grief, sadness, and desire many times. But not fear.

Theon Ranus had experienced anger, grief, sadness, and desire many times. But not fear.

Not until today.

“The princess isn’t in her room. She’s nowhere to be found!” The maid’s cry quickened his steps as he made his way down the hall, the maid who was supposed to be stationed outside Princess Cleo’s room during the hours that Theon slept and couldn’t keep watch over her.

Cold fear crashed over him.

He knew immediately where she’d gone. She’d done exactly what she’d threatened. She’s escaped the palace to go on her journey to Paelsia. Even after he’d refused to accompany her, she’d gone anyway.

Foolish girl. Strong-willed, foolish girl.

It was as if his heart had been wrenched from his chest. Then, close on the heels of his fear for her safety, came a hot line of rage that she’d do this, blatantly ignoring his warnings.

The king had to be told. And Theon knew he had to be the one to deliver the news that Cleo and Nic had disappeared from the palace.

That was when he began to feel another glimmer of fear. This time for himself.

“How could you let this happen?” the king raged, his face bright red with anger.

Theon had no worthy answer. He knew Cleo wanted to do this. He knew she was stubborn and single-minded when it came to her sister’s fading health. He should have anticipated this.

“I’ll go to Paelsia myself and search for her.”

“Damn right you will.” There were dark shadows beneath the king’s eyes as if he hadn’t slept well. He looked much older than his forty-odd years today. “Of all the things I need to concern myself with, this only troubles me more. You were supposed to keep her safe. You failed me.”

Theon could argue that he couldn’t be by Cleo’s side all the hours of the day or night apart from sleeping in the princess’s bed with her, but he held his tongue and studied the floor obediently. King Corvin was not a cruel king, but he doled out punishment when necessary. Failing an assignment to keep the princess safe was not something that could go unanswered.

Why would she ever do something so foolhardy as this?

Even he didn’t have to think too far on the subject. She did it because she was absolutely convinced that she could save her sister’s life by chasing after the legend of an exiled Watcher. Breaking every rule to save Princess Emilia was both idiotic...and brave. Pure-hearted and courageous.
Only Cleo would do such a thing,
Theon thought.

“I’ll leave immediately,” he said, his eyes still lowered. “With your permission I’ll take a few more men.”

“No more than two. We don’t want to draw attention to this embarrassing situation.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

When the king didn’t say anything else, Theon looked up to see that his face was now more pale and haunted than angry.

“Sometimes I feel as if I’m cursed,” he said softly. “A slow, hungry curse that has worked its way across my entire life, stripping me of everything I love.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “I met a witch once...in my youth. She was very beautiful.”

Theon was surprised at the seeming non sequitur. “A witch? A real one?”

The king nodded with a sharp jerk of his head. “I hadn’t believed in magic until I met her. She had her sights set on becoming my queen, but I . . . well, I met Elena, and that was it for me. The witch was but a momentary dalliance of a youth who enjoyed the attentions of pretty girls before his wedding to the woman who would become the true love of his life.” He let out a slow exhale. “When I ended things with this witch, she was furious. I believe she cursed me. I lost my beloved Elena moments after she’d given my youngest daughter life. Now Emilia is so unwell. I fear Cleo was right when she said she’s dying. And Cleo herself—” His voice broke. “She has a mind of her own, one that will get her into trouble. More than she even realizes. You
must
find her.”

“I will, your majesty. I swear I will.”

“See that you do.” The king raised a dark gaze to Theon’s and a chill went down his spine. “Fail me again and you’ll pay with your life. I’ll kill you myself with my bare hands. Do you understand me?”

Theon nodded. He expected no less. He left the meeting room, his steps rushed, his heart beating hard.

He should have said he’d go with the princess. She was stubborn enough to go by herself—with only Nicolo Cassian to protect her. But he was no more than the king’s squire, with no training, no strength, no carefully honed survival instincts. It wasn’t nearly enough. Theon was the one who should be by Princess Cleo’s side no matter what was to come. Today and always.

The king would kill him if he failed. And if something happened to Cleo...he’d
want
to die. The thought of her bright eyes extinguished, her merry laugh silenced . . . he broke into a cold sweat and had to lean his forehead against the marble wall of the hallway.

I’m falling in love with her.

The realization hit him like a sword plunged through his chest.

There could be no real future for them. He wasn’t royal—not even a knight. And she was already betrothed to another.

But he’d seen something in her eyes—a joyful alertness when they argued. A catch to her breath. A flush to her cheeks. He’d come to enjoy spending time with her more than he ever would have believed or been willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted to be by her side and not only as her bodyguard.

He wanted
her
.

But he couldn’t give in to these feelings. Even admitting them to himself was dangerous. For now, all Theon knew for sure was that he would find her and bring her back safely to Auranos. The future was uncertain, but this much was crystal clear. He would not fail.

T
he king had summoned Magnus to his throne room.

Goddess forbid that his father actually visited his son’s chambers. No, instead he had to be summoned quite officially like a servant.

Irrelevant.

He took his time to arrive. He would obey, of course. He had no other choice, but even with the king’s seemingly newfound appreciation for his son’s existence, Magnus wouldn’t rush to do so.

He had spent two days with Lucia coaching her on a variety of exercises to help hone her control and skill. A lot of it seemed to depend on his sister’s fluctuating emotions. When they argued—especially about the subject of her suitors that Magnus tried to discourage—her rising temper helped bring forth her magic. When her confidence wavered, it faded.

Therefore, he’d made sure that they argued frequently. It didn’t take very much at all to bring a flush to her cheeks.

It would still take her a while to open herself up to her magic completely. Even if she wouldn’t readily admit this, she feared it. That which one fears, one typically won’t embrace with open arms.

Magnus felt similarly toward his father.

“You summoned me?” he said drily when he was finally in front of the king in his throne room.

King Gaius raised his gaze from the papers he studied and honed in on Magnus like an eagle spotting mildly interesting prey. “It took you long enough to get here.”

“I came as quickly as I could.”

The lie slid smoothly.

“What have you been up to, Magnus? You’ve been keeping to yourself a great deal the last few days. You missed an opportunity to go out hunting with me again just this morning.”

“I’ve been reading.”

The king smiled at this, but the warmth of it didn’t reach his eyes. “I find that difficult to believe.”

Magnus shrugged. “Did you just want to get an update on my hobbies or were we to discuss more important matters?”

The king leaned back in his iron and black leather throne and regarded his son. “You remind me so very much of myself at your age. It’s truly uncanny.”

Magnus wasn’t sure if this was meant to be taken as a compliment or an insult.

“How go your plans with Chief Basilius?” he asked, wanting to shift the focus off himself.

“Everything is lining up. Don’t worry, my son, I’ll keep you informed of every important step. And I’ll be requiring your assistance in larger matters very soon.”

Since the position of the king’s valet was currently vacant due to the unexpected death of Tobias, Magnus was certain the king would need a new personal assistant to bridge such a gap. It sounded as if it would be him.

“As the king wishes, I obey.” It was nearly impossible to say without noticeable sarcasm. Old habits died hard.

“I did call you here for a specific reason.” The king studied him for a moment. “What of Lucia? Have you noticed anything unusual about her?”

Magnus knew this was coming, so he was prepared. He glanced briefly off to the side to see the Damora coat of arms, bearing the familiar words Strength, Faith, and Wisdom. “I’ve been watching her very closely, but she seems just as she’s always been. If she appears distracted to you in some small way, maybe she just has a crush on some insipid boy.”

“No, it wouldn’t be something as meaningless as that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know exactly what I should even be watching for, would I? You refuse to share any details with me.”

So much for him being a part of the king’s important future plans for this kingdom. Perhaps those were only words. The thought was oddly disappointing.

The king leaned forward from his plain but intimidating iron throne—the ornate golden, jeweled one Magnus’s grandfather had ruled from had been permanently removed years ago. He pressed the tips of his fingers together. “I think you might be ready to learn the truth.”

Magnus raised a brow, surprised. “So tell me.”

“I keep forgetting that you’re not only a boy anymore. You are very nearly a man and as such should be included in everything I do. Honestly,”—the king stood up from his seat and walked a slow circle around Magnus, his gaze sweeping the length of his son with an odd mix of criticism and approval—“it’s like looking into my past. Sabina mentioned this to me only the other day.”

“Sabina mentioned what?”

“How very alike we are. You know, I met her when I was not much older than you.”

Magnus’s stomach soured. “How nice for you. Was she already married back then or did you wait until after her nuptials to bed her?”

The king gave him a thin smile. “Your tongue is tipped with spikes. But that’s all right. A future king needs every weapon he can get at his disposal. Trust me, when you’re on the throne, there will be very few you can trust.”

“And yet you trust Sabina?”

“I do.”

The only way to get answers from this impossible man was to ask questions directly—while not appearing to really care about the answers, of course. If he seemed too eager, he knew his father would continue to withhold the truth from him indefinitely.

“What prophecy is it that relates to Lucia? What are you waiting to see from her?”

The king didn’t say anything for a long time. His eyes narrowed. “You know how I feel about those who listen in on my private conversations, Magnus.”

He cringed internally. Sometimes even he knew not to speak so bluntly unless he wanted his father to lash out. It was difficult to remember sometimes. But he was on edge and having a difficult time controlling himself. His mask of indifference usually served him much better than this.

Learning that Lucia was a witch, however, had knocked his world off balance. He’d found that the mask he’d depended on had shifted. It was difficult to set it back into its proper position without great effort.

Magnus was certain his father would not answer him. Perhaps he would send him away without any new information. That would be fine since he could go immediately to Lucia’s chambers and continue with her practice.

Finally the king spoke. “If I admit something like this to you, Magnus, we’re treading on very dangerous ground.”

“The truth is only dangerous if it can inflict injury.” He pretended to be more interested in a platter of apples and cheese on a nearby table than on every word his father uttered.

“Lies can make harsh truths less painful. But I believe pain is essential for growth.” The king’s gaze was unflinching. “Do you think you’re ready for such honesty?”

Magnus looked his father right in his eyes, which were the exact same color as his own. As he studied his father’s face, he couldn’t help but see the coldness there. The king had reminded him of a serpent for as long as he could remember—just like the cobra that adorned the family crest. A slippery one with venom and fangs.

“I want to know about Lucia,” Magnus said firmly. “And I want to know now.”

The king stood up from his throne and paced to the other side of the room so he could look out a window down the sheer, frost-covered cliff side to the sea far below. “Many years ago, Sabina and her sister studied the stars looking for a sign of a special birth. A child to become one of legend and magic.”

“Magic.” The word itself was dangerous.

The king nodded slowly. “Sabina is a witch.”

Magnus felt himself pale. He’d never cared for Sabina, but he’d never seen any indication that what his father claimed was true. “You took me to see a witch burn when I was twelve years old. It was a lesson on what happens to them should they try to work magic here in Limeros. And yet you say that your mistress is one? I didn’t even know you believed in such things other than making examples out of those who might spread evil and lies.”

The king spread his hands. “There are hard choices one must make as king. For a long time, I didn’t believe. But it’s true, Magnus. Magic is real.”

“You would condemn one woman to death for being accused of witchcraft yet consider Sabina your closest advisor? One you also take to your bed?”

“I don’t expect you to understand, only to accept that what I’ve done—what I’ve always done—has been for the benefit of my kingdom. Sabina is a rare exception for me.”

His mind reeled. “What does this have to do with Lucia?”

“There was a prophecy of a child born who would one day possess the power not of a witch, but of a sorceress.”

Magnus went very still. “And you believe it’s your own daughter.”

The king grabbed Magnus’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “I have waited a very long time to learn if it’s true. But there’s been no sign that Lucia is anything as extraordinary as this. Sixteen years, Magnus. I grow frustrated.”

His stomach clenched. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You’ve seen nothing. Nothing? Truly?”

Magnus chose his words wisely. “Truly. There is nothing for me to report. She is as any other sixteen-year-old girl might be. To think she could be a sorceress—” His throat tightened. “It’s ludicrous.”

Lies did soften the painful truth a great deal.

“I refuse to believe that,” the king said through clenched teeth. There was a sheen of perspiration now on his father’s brow. “She’s the key, Magnus. She’s essential to my plans. I need all the help I can get.”

“What? You mean with Auranos?”

“Of course. Nothing else matters right now.”

“Surely our army combined with Basilius’s, though . . . ”

“Basilius’s? Ha. Untrained, underfed youths who’ve never held a sword before. Auranos, for all their lazy lifestyle, has an impressive military. No, we need a guarantee.”

A chill went through Magnus. “What about Sabina? If she’s a witch as you say she is, can’t she use her magic to help you?”

The king’s expression soured. “Whatever power she might have possessed as a younger woman has faded. She’s useless to me in this regard. No, it must be Lucia. The prophecy said she’d have endless magic—drawn from all four elements.”

All four. Magnus had only seen evidence of two so far—air and fire. But this meant that the other two, earth and water, might manifest later.

“With magic like that I could crush King Corvin and burn his world down all around him.” The king’s fists were clenched at his sides. “I could end him in a single day and take Auranos.”

Magnus swallowed hard. “Maybe Sabina was wrong about Lucia.”

The king cast a glare so sharp at him that Magnus’s scar began to sting. “I refuse to believe that.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to be patient.”

The anger faded from his father’s gaze and he regarded his son again carefully. “You love your sister, don’t you?”

Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course I do.”

“She’s a true beauty. She’ll make some man an excellent wife one day.”

His core turned hot as lava with immediate jealousy. “I’m sure she will.”

The king’s mouth twisted into a sinister smile. “Do you really think I don’t notice how you look at her? I’m not blind, my son.”

Bile rose in his throat, bitter and unexpected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Play innocent if it makes you feel better, but I see it. I’m a very smart man, Magnus. It doesn’t take only courage to be king, but intelligence as well. I observe because then I can use what I see to my best advantage.”

Magnus’s jaw tensed. “How nice for you.”

“And I see a brother who cares deeply—
very
deeply—for his beautiful younger sister.”

Magnus eyed the door, seeking escape as soon as possible. “May I be excused, Father? Or do you wish to continue playing games with me?”

“No games, Magnus. I shall reserve my games for the battlefield or the chessboard. Do you honestly think I don’t know why you haven’t shown interest in any other girl who might one day become your bride?”

Magnus felt ill at the direction of this conversation. “Father, please.”

“I
know
, Magnus. I see it in your eyes every time she enters a room. I see how you watch her.”

Magnus felt the sudden need to run away from here, far away. A desperate urge to hide his face from the world. He hadn’t shared this truth with anyone; he’d keep it buried deep, so deep inside that he barely glanced at it himself. He’d been appalled at the merest hint that Andreas might have some inkling of his darkest secret.

But now for the king to pull it out and flaunt it like some sort of prized animal he’d shot on a hunt, bloody and raw. Like it meant nothing.

“I need to go.” Magnus turned to the door.

His father clamped his hand down on his shoulder. “Ease your mind. I’ll tell no one of this. Your secret will remain safe from this day forward. But if you do everything I ask of you, I can promise you one thing. No man will ever touch her. If nothing else, you’ll be able to take solace in that.”

Magnus didn’t say anything else. The moment his father let go of him, that was exactly what he did—bursting from the room. He practically ran down the halls toward his chambers, where he sank down to the floor, his back pressed against the cold gray wall. He couldn’t bear to face Lucia again tonight.

BOOK: Falling Kingdoms
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