Rebel Spring

“Tell me,” he growled.

“Let go of me and I shall, my king.”

The desire to hurt her, to cause her pain and force her to speak truths was strong, but he knew it wouldn’t help. She looked so delicate in stature, as if her bones might snap like twigs with the merest amount of pressure. But she wasn’t delicate—just the opposite. He had to remember that. If he mistreated her, in insult or action, she might never give him audience again.

He wasn’t willing to risk that. Not yet.

He released her.

“The prophecy is that there would one day be a mortal king who would rule over this kingdom.” She brushed her hand against the map of Mytica again. “One who would discover a great magic that would turn him into an immortal god. That he would rule his kingdom with a goddess as his queen. And that they would in turn rule everything, this world and all that lies beyond, and everyone, be they mortal or immortal, would bow before them. It is you, my king. And I shall be your queen.”

The glowing lines of the map of Mytica had spread, sliding down the table and running along the black marble floor like lines of fire, lighting the edges of other lands, other kingdoms and empires far across the sea and beyond. Gaius followed its path until it disappeared from view in the darkness surrounding them.

“All of it,” he breathed.

“You are destined to be an immortal god. No one has ever had more power than what you will have. The universe itself will cower in fear before you.”

He nodded slowly. Her words were honey, so sweet and so true. They fed something deep inside of him that had hungered for far too long. “I knew this. I knew I was destined for greatness.”

“Yes. So now you see, you must increase the speed of the road so we can find that magic. The blood spilled in Auranos, in Paelsia, the effect it had upon the elements . . . it’s the first sign I’ve been waiting for.”

“Of what?”

“That it’s working.” Her eyes practically glowed, just like the endless map that surrounded them in its sea of black. “We’re finding them, together.”

“The Kindred.” He found his mouth had gone dry. Could he really be so close? “You know where the crystals are hidden.”

“Their location has been shielded all this time from others of my kind. But it’s time. Here, now. And I am certain that you are the one who will bring it all into being.”

His breathing had increased; his heart pounded harder than it had in recent memory. This was what he wanted more than anything. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes.”

She nodded. “Blood is essential to all of this. It must continue to spill. Many will die, many must die for us to succeed.”

“Then many will die . . . my queen. As many as it takes.”

“I hope you mean that.”

“I do.”

Melenia had told him everything he needed to know, everything he’d already known on some level. He was born for a greatness beyond that which he’d already achieved. He was born to be an immortal god, the most powerful king the universe had ever known. Everything and everyone would bow before him.

Eternally.

Chapter 10

CLEO

AURANOS

Cleo clutched the gold and amethyst ring in her fist so tightly she was sure it would leave a permanent imprint on her skin. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to sense something from it. Anything.

Finally, she opened her hand to look at the small piece of jewelry. “It belonged to your mother,” her father had told her moments before his death. “She always believed it had the power to help find the Kindred. If you can find it, you’ll be powerful enough to take back this kingdom from those who seek to destroy us all.”

“I’m trying, Father,” she whispered, tears of frustration and grief stinging her eyes. “But I don’t know how. I wish you were here. I miss you and Emilia so much.”

The weeks of searching in the palace library had yielded nothing. Maybe he was wrong.

There was a hard knock on her door and she quickly scrambled to hide the ring behind the loose stone in her wall. A moment later, the door opened and two young attendants entered, one fair, one dark. Both Limerian. Cleo wasn’t allowed to have servants from her own kingdom anymore.

“We’ve been sent to help you get ready for your trip,” the fairhaired one, Helena, said.

“Trip?” Cleo repeated. “Where am I going?”

“To Hawk’s Brow,” the other, Dora, said, bottomless envy shining in her dark eyes. “The queen herself is taking you there. You have an appointment with Lorenzo today.”

It was a name Cleo knew well from a simpler time. A famous man known throughout Auranos for his flawless taste and exemplary style, a man who had dressed Cleo and her sister since they reached adolescence.

The reality of the situation dawned. Queen Althea was accompanying Cleo to the fitting of her wedding gown.

Her stomach sank. The sensation of being cornered, of being ordered to do what she didn’t want to, settled over her. But then she realized this would be the first time she left the palace since the day after she had been captured.

There was a chance Lorenzo might secretly assist her, and her thoughts went again to the ring. Hawk’s Brow was the home of many scholars and artists—citizens who were well-versed in history and legend. If she could speak with the dressmaker alone and enlist him to her cause . . .

“Fine,” she said, raising her chin. “Then let’s not keep the queen waiting.”