Falling Kingdoms (25 page)

Cleo staggered back to Theon and dropped down next to him. She stroked the bronze-colored hair off his forehead.

He stared straight up at the sky. He wasn’t blinking. His eyes were such a beautiful shade of dark brown. She loved his eyes. His nose. His lips. Everything about him.

As she touched his lips, her fingers slid over the blood.

“Wake up, Theon,” she said softly. “Please, find me again. I’m right here. I’m waiting for you to rescue me.”

Nic touched her shoulder gently.

She shook her head. “He’ll be fine. He just needs a moment.”

“He’s gone, Cleo. There’s nothing you can do.”

She pressed her hand to Theon’s blood-soaked chest. There was no heartbeat. His eyes were glazed. His spirit had departed. This was nothing but a shell. And he wasn’t going to find her ever again.

She couldn’t control the sobs that wracked her entire body. There were no words for this pain. She’d lost Theon just when she’d realized how much he meant to her.

If she hadn’t come here, Theon wouldn’t have had to follow. He’d loved her. He’d wanted her to be safe. Now he was dead and it was all her fault.

Cleo leaned over and kissed his lips—their third kiss.

Their last.

Then she let Nic lead her away from Theon’s dead body and Magnus’s unconscious one and toward the harbor.

B
y the time Magnus came to, all three horses had run off. He was alone, in the middle of Paelsia, surrounded by three corpses. A hawk circled in the sky high above. For a moment, he thought it might be a vulture.

He dragged himself to his feet and looked down at the fallen men. He swore under his breath, then cast a dark look in the direction of the village in the distance. There was no sign of Princess Cleo and whoever that was who’d knocked him out.

He tried very hard not to look at the Auranian guard whom he’d stabbed, but his gaze kept turning in that direction. The young guard’s eyes were still open, staring up at the sky. Blood had caked on his lips and a pool of it soaked into the dirt next to his body.

Magnus realized he was trembling. This guard had taken out two of his men. As soon as he turned around, Magnus could have been killed too. He’d had to strike first. And so he’d chosen to stab the guard in the back. Like a coward.

He crouched down and looked very hard at the Auranian, knowing he would never forget the face of the first person he’d slain. The boy wasn’t much older than he was. Magnus reached over and closed his eyes.

Then he left the bodies there, went to the village, purchased a horse from a Paelsian who’d seemed fearful and intimidated by Magnus’s very presence, and rode hard back to Limeros. He stopped only when he was so tired he nearly fell off his mount, sleeping a few hours before continuing on, numb, broken, and beaten.

The blood had dried on his cheek where the girl had clawed him. At least, it had stopped stinging. He wondered briefly if it would leave new scars there. It would serve as a visible marking of his defeat and humiliation.

When he finally returned to the Limerian palace, he left the horse outside without calling for a groom to take it away and give it food and water. He could barely think. It was a monumental effort to even walk a straight line.

Magnus went directly to his room, closing the door behind him. Then he collapsed to his knees on the hard floor.

Some said that Magnus was just like his father in looks and temperament. He’d disagreed until today. He
was
his father’s son. He was cruel. Manipulative. Deceptive. Violent. Stabbing the guard in the back to save his own life was something that King Gaius would have done. The only difference was that the king would not dwell on it afterward. He would never doubt his actions. He would celebrate them like he celebrated his daughter’s newfound magic after it had turned his mistress into a pile of charred meat.

Magnus wasn’t sure how long he knelt there in the darkness. But after a time, he knew he was no longer alone.

Lucia had entered his chambers. He didn’t see her yet, but he felt her presence and smelled the light floral fragrance she always wore.

“Brother?” she whispered. “You’ve returned.”

He didn’t reply. His mouth was dry, parched. He wasn’t even sure if he could move.

Lucia came to his side and gently touched his shoulder.

“Magnus!” She knelt down next to him and brushed the hair back from his cheek. “Your face. You’re hurt!”

He swallowed. “It’s nothing.”

“Where have you been?”

“On a trip to Paelsia.”

“You look...oh, Magnus.” Concern coated her words. She didn’t know what he’d done. What he’d been instructed to do.

Retrieve Princess Cleo and bring her back to Limeros.

Such a simple task. Magnus had no doubt that his father never would have given it to him if he hadn’t been positive his son would succeed.

But he’d failed.

Lucia got up and returned a few moments later with a glass of water and a wet cloth. “Drink this,” she told him firmly.

He drank. But the water only worked to wash away his numbness, making his pain that much more acute.

Lucia cleaned his wound gently with the cloth. “What scratched you?”

He didn’t answer. Lucia wouldn’t understand what he’d done.

“Tell me,” she insisted. The steely edge to her tone earned her a direct look. “That’s right. You need to tell me what happened. Right now.”

“Will you make it all better?”

“I might.”

As he drew in a ragged breath, her expression grew more grave. She stroked his hair back from his face. “Magnus, please. What can I do?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Why did you go to Paelsia?”

“Father sent me there to bring something back for him. I failed. And...bad things happened. He’s going to be very angry with me.” He looked down at the floor, looked at his hands. He’d left his sword downstairs. He hadn’t bothered to wipe the guard’s blood off it.

“What bad things happened?”

“The guards who accompanied me—they were killed.”

Her eyes widened. “They were killed? But—but you got away. You were hurt, but you got away.” She touched his face softly. “Thank the goddess you survived.”

He looked into her beautiful eyes, taking strength from the way she looked at him, as if he could never be capable of doing anything truly horrible. “I killed someone.”

Lucia’s lips parted in surprise. “My poor brother. You’ve experienced such horrors. I am so, so sorry.”

“I’m a
murderer
, Lucia.”

“No.” She captured his face between her hands to force him to keep looking at her. “You’re my brother. And you’re wonderful. You could never do anything horrible. Do you hear me?”

She hugged him tight, so tight that he could almost forget what had happened. He held on to her. She was his anchor to keep him from being swept completely out to sea.

“Father won’t be angry,” she whispered. “Whatever he wanted you to do isn’t as important as having you return safely home.”

“He might disagree with that.”

“No, he won’t. I felt terrible about what happened with Sabina.” Her voice caught. “But he assured me that I’m not bad and that my magic is nothing to fear. That what happened was meant to happen. It was fate.”

“And you believed him?”

Lucia was quiet for a moment. “It took me a while, but I do believe him now. What I can do—I’m not afraid of it anymore. Let me show you what I’ve learned.”

She pressed her hand against his injured cheek. Her skin grew warm against his and begin to glow with a soft white light. He stared into her blue eyes, willing himself not to pull back from her as the heat grew and sank into his skin. It hurt, but he forced himself not to flinch away from her. When she finally pulled back from him, he touched his cheek to find that it was smooth, apart from his previous scar, and that the new scratches had vanished. Lucia had healed him with earth magic.

“Incredible. You’re incredible.”

A small, confident smile played at her lips. “I was surprised how kind Father was to me after...well, after what I did. I love him for not making this worse for me.”

Magnus hated that Lucia had been taken in by a few kind words by the king enough to forget the past. “Do you love him as much as you love me?”

She leaned against him and let out a soft laugh. “The truth?’

“Always.”

“Then it shall be our secret,” she whispered in his ear. “I love you more than any other.”

He pulled back from her and looked into her eyes, holding her beautiful face between his hands. Could this be real?

“Does that make you feel better after your horrible ordeal?” she asked.

He nodded slowly. “It does.”

And then, heart swelling, he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her as deeply and passionately as he’d always dreamed. Her lips were so soft and sweet, and they filled him to overflowing with hope and love.

With a chill, he suddenly realized that her hands were pressed flat against his chest and she was trying to push him away. When he broke off the kiss, she skidded back from him, landing hard on her backside. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide and appalled. And something else. Disgusted.

His lips tingled from the feel of her, the taste of her, but the reality of what had happened crashed over him like a bucket of ice-cold water.

She hadn’t kissed him back.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Her voice was pitchy and muffled by her hand.

“I’m sorry.” His heart hammered in his chest. Then he shook his head. “No, wait. I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you like that for so long, but I was afraid.”

Her hand trembled as she pulled it away from her mouth. “But you’re my brother.”

“You said that you loved me.”

“Yes. I love you desperately...as my
brother
. But this...” She shook her head. “No, it’s not right. You can’t do something like this ever again.”

“You’re not really my sister.” He wouldn’t let himself feel shame for what he’d done. He’d given in to his love for her in a real way, and he refused to let it be turned into something vile. It wasn’t vile; it was pure. The purest thing in his entire world. “Not by blood. You weren’t born into this family. You were born in Paelsia. Sabina stole you from your cradle. You were raised here as my sister, but we’re not related by blood. If we’re together, it’s not forbidden to us.”

Her face had paled so much that she now resembled a ghost. The fierceness had left her eyes, replaced by shock. “Why are you saying these horrible things to me?”

“Because they’re the truth. The truth that you should have been told by the king himself. He wants to use your power for his own gain. That’s why he had you brought here, why he’s raised you as his daughter.”

Lucia shook her head. “And you’ve known this all the time?”

“No, I learned of it only the other night from Sabina herself. But Mother confirmed that it’s true.”

“I don’t understand.” She staggered up from the floor to her feet. He followed suit, watching her warily. His disgrace in Paelsia was momentarily forgotten. He hadn’t meant to tell Lucia like this, not so bluntly.

“Ease your mind,” he soothed. “Please. The king still considers you his beloved daughter. I know he does. And we were raised together, side by side. This is all true. But to consider you only my sister now that I know the truth...I can’t. You’re so much more to me than that.”

Lucia met his gaze. “Please don’t say these things to me.”

“You’re the only one in the world who means anything to me.” His voice broke. “I love you, Lucia. I love you to the very depths of my soul.”

She just stared at him.

“You said that you loved me.” He tried to keep his voice firm. “More than anyone else.”

“As a brother. As my dear brother, I love you unconditionally.”

It was as if his heart had stopped and the world crashed down all around him. “Only as a brother.”

“You can’t do that ever again. You can’t touch me like that. It’s wrong, Magnus.”

He clenched his fists at his sides. “It’s
not
wrong.”

“I don’t feel the same way toward you.”

“But someday you might—”

“No.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I will never
feel that way. Please, let us never talk of this again.” She ran a hand over her long dark hair, as if attempting to straighten it. She moved to the door, but he caught her wrist to stop her.

Magnus’s eyes burned. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I have to. I can’t be near you right now.”

She pulled out of his grasp and left his room.

He stood there facing the door, unmoving, unthinking. Stunned by what had just happened.

She would turn her back on him and punish him for this. For showing her how he felt. For opening his heart in ways he’d never done before with anyone.

Magnus had always been a fool. A child. One who was easily beaten or abused by those who were larger or stronger or more powerful. All his life he’d endured so much pain and developed only a thin mask to cover his true feelings. But masks could easily be removed and smashed with only a few words.

As of today, he was no longer a child. He had killed. He had lost the one he loved more than any other—and she would never trust him as she had before. Nothing would be the same with Lucia from this day forward. He’d destroyed that forever. And for a moment, all alone in his chambers, he clenched his fists at his sides and let himself cry over the loss of his beautiful sister and best friend.

Then his heart, now broken into a thousand pieces, slowly began to turn to ice.