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Falling Kingdoms

Page 63

“Do you know how powerful you are, Lucia?” Sabina asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Your father would be unhappy if I told you everything without him being here. Believe me, I’ve already revealed enough to ensure his anger. But know this...it was foretold. Your birth was foretold. Your ability to access elementia as no one has in a thousand years was foretold. You’re not a witch, Lucia, darling. You’re a sorceress.”

Her anxiety swelled to a fever pitch. “You’re wrong. I might be able to do a little bit of magic, but it’s nothing that vast.”

“Perhaps you’ve only dabbled up until now, but if it’s already begun to awaken, that means it’s yours—a pool of magic waiting for you to fully plunge into. All four elements for you to wield at will.”

“You could still be wrong,” Magnus said firmly.

“I’m not wrong!” This was shouted, as if Sabina had been on the very edge of her temper and had finally stepped beyond. “I’m right, as I’ve been from the very beginning. I would never have sacrificed all I have if I’d any doubt. I know if you reach into your abilities as deeply as you can, you will awaken the rest of it.”

Lucia felt an overwhelming urge to flee this room and this woman—this witch—who’d always intimidated and frightened her. She looked to Magnus, but he didn’t say a word. His brow was furrowed.

“Magnus, are you all right?” she asked again. His expression wasn’t impassive as it usually was but tormented.

“I didn’t want this,” he said. “Any of it. I wanted you to be safe.”

“Oh, Magnus,” Sabina drawled. “Stop playing at being a saint to your little sister. It doesn’t fool me. You’re just like your father, but you keep denying it.”

He turned his fierce gaze on her. “I’m nothing like my father. I hate him and everything he stands for.”

“Hate is a strong emotion. Much more powerful than indifference. But those who burn with hate can also love just as intensely. Can’t they?” She smiled at him, as if they shared a private joke about this. “When you hate—or love—do you do so with all your heart? So much that it feels as if you might die from it?”

“Shut up,” he growled.

“I gave you a chance, but you didn’t take it. I could have helped you in so many ways.”

“You help no one but yourself. It’s always been that way. I can’t believe I never guessed that underneath it all you were an evil witch who should be burned at the stake like the others my father put to death.”

Sabina backhanded him hard across the scarred side of his face. “Watch your mouth, boy.”

“Or what?” He touched the corner of his mouth and came away with blood on his fingertips. He cast a dark look at her.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Lucia snarled. Seeing Magnus struck by this nasty woman had summoned a wave of anger from deep inside her, anger unlike anything she’d felt before.

No—that was wrong. She’d felt it before. One time, three years ago, when she’d hidden behind a corner while Magnus had been reprimanded by their father for talking back to him in public. Magnus had tried to rise up and hit his father back, but he’d been beaten down. Her brother had finally run from the room and gone straight to his chambers. Lucia had followed him and found Magnus curled up in the corner, a frozen look of pain on his bloodied face that went much deeper than physical. She’d sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. Hadn’t said a word, just sat with him and listened to his quiet sobs until they finally faded away to nothing.

She’d wanted Magnus to kill their father for hurting him.

No, that was wrong too. She had wanted to kill him herself.

“I dare,” Sabina said. “With the full permission of your father, the king. I can strike your brother whenever I want. I can do whatever I want. Just watch me, little girl.”

She lashed out and hit Magnus again. He snarled at her; his fist was so tight that Lucia was certain he would strike back. If Sabina was not a woman, she was certain he wouldn’t have hesitated.

Lucia had no such problems with gallantry. She lashed her hand through the air in a flicking motion. Sabina’s head moved as if she’d been slapped, even though she stood six paces away. The witch pressed her palm to her reddened cheek, her eyes wide but glowing with excitement.

“My darling girl,” she exclaimed. “Very good! Yes, just like that. So it’s anger that helps you grasp hold of your magic, is it? Perhaps it will be anger that can fully awaken it.”

“Stop this,” Magnus hissed. “I don’t want this.”

“Nobody asked you.” Sabina grinned, even though a trickle of blood slid down the corner of her mouth. She drew out a dagger from beneath her skirts, from a leather sheath strapped to her thigh. Then she moved so fast that Lucia could barely follow her.

Suddenly, Sabina was behind Magnus, digging the tip of her dagger under his chin so sharply that blood slid down his throat.

“Magnus!” Lucia shrieked.

“I...can’t...move...” Magnus managed with effort.

“The elementia a common witch like me can summon takes great effort or sacrifice,” Sabina said calmly. Blood now trickled from her nose. “But I can do a little when necessary. Air can bind. Air can suffocate.”

“Don’t hurt him!” Lucia’s stomach clenched. She was both furious and deeply frightened—two opposite emotions that raged against each other.

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