“You have Lucia’s blood,” the king said, his voice hoarse. “How?”
She raised a brow. “I bled her when she was a child, before my exile. It only took the barest trace of earth magic to keep it fresh all this time.” Selia looked at Olivia. “Come here and hold out your arm.”
Olivia moved toward Selia and did exactly as commanded. The witch produced a dagger and cut Olivia’s arm. When the immortal’s blood joined Lucia’s upon the orbs, they each flared brighter than before.
Cleo wanted to rush forward, to knock the dagger from the witch’s grip, but she knew it would be the last thing she ever did. She felt utterly helpless as she watched this dark ritual unfold in front of her.
But despite her anger with Magnus about so many things, she knew that he wouldn’t leave the compound if he managed to escape from Amara’s guards again. He wouldn’t focus on saving only himself.
No. He would intervene when it seemed like all hope was lost.
Had he understood the signal she’d tried to give him—having him call her Cleiona? She needed him to know that she’d tried to align with Amara only out of necessity and opportunity. That she had meant to use that alliance to regain her power.
To regain Magnus’s power as well.
The storm above grew more violent. Rain began to fall in sheets, soaking Cleo.
Selia raised her hands, her eyes glowing. The crystals flared with light, like tiny suns. Cleo gasped aloud as the wisps of magic that had been inside the orbs streamed outward.
Three crystals. But there were now four wisps streaking through the air all around them: red, blue, white, and green.
Why did Selia say the ritual required the amber orb if Kyan was already here? Cleo wondered. Did it matter? Could it make a difference in stopping this?
“Fire god,” Selia said. “You have chosen. And now it is time for you to claim your new flesh-and-blood vessel.”
The flame-red wisp of magic swirled violently around the pit before it finally plunged deep into Nic’s chest.
“Nic, no!” Cleo yelled.
Nic’s eyes widened as he cried out. Choking, he collapsed to the ground in a heap.
Then her dearest friend slowly turned to face her.
“Nic,” she gasped. “Are you all right?”
He frowned. “I took the name of my last host, Kyan. I like it much better than Nic. I shall keep it.”
She stared at him with disbelief. “What? What have you done? Nic, can you hear me? You have to fight this!”
“Nic is gone,” the boy who looked like Nic told her. “But I assure you that he’s been sacrificed for the greater good of the world.”
Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d just gotten him back, and now he was lost to her all over again.
“Earth goddess,” Selia said, stealing Cleo’s attention from Nic, “you are free. Claim your flesh-and-blood vessel.”
The green wisp of magic swirled around the pit, and this time everyone stepped back from it, watching it with fear.
Olivia gasped as the magic plunged into her.
Nic . . . or Kyan . . . or—Cleo didn’t know what to think—went directly to Olivia and took her hands in his. “Sister?”
“Yes.” She looked up into his eyes. “You did what you promised. I am finally free!”
“Yes. And you’ve chosen an excellent vessel.”
“What was her name?” she asked.
“Olivia,” he told her.
“Olivia,” she repeated, nodding. “Yes, Olivia will be my name now.”
“Mother.” Gaius had moved to Selia’s side, his black hair slicked to his face from the rain.
“I’m sorry, my son,” she said to him, shaking her head. “You have the bloodstone; it will have to be enough.”
He nodded. “You’ve always put me first, no matter what you had to do.”
She searched his face. “I shouldn’t have done what I did to Elena. I see now that it hurt you more than I thought it would. But I just wanted you to be free.”
“I know. And you were right. My love for her clouded my mind. It threatened to destroy my thirst for power.” He took her face gently between his hands and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for helping to make me the man I am today.”
She touched his hand, then frowned. “Wait. Where is the—”
With a sharp twist, he snapped his mother’s neck and let her body fall to the ground.
Kyan stared down at the witch, then his furious glare turned to the king. “What have you done?”
“I’ve interrupted your self-serving ritual,” Gaius said, glancing down at the body of his mother. “I knew there was a good reason I hadn’t killed her yet.”
Kyan eyed the remaining two wisps of magic with anger in his stolen brown eyes. “Little queen, I need you now. I need blood descended from a sorceress—your blood. The magic from it will be enough for now. Later, I’ll find another obedient Oldling to seal all that’s been done here.”
He was right next to Cleo, holding Selia’s dagger. “I will give you your throne. All of Mytica. All of this world and beyond. Anything you desire.”
Tears mixed with the streaming rain on Cleo’s face. “Give the dagger to me.”
He did as she asked, and she looked at the dagger in her hand, knowing she had to do this. Knowing there was no choice.
Kyan could not leave here today, no matter whose body he had stolen. But just as she raised the dagger to thrust the blade into Nic’s heart, Ashur caught her wrist.