Rebel Spring (22 page)

“I, Cleiona Aurora Bellos,” she choked out, “do pledge to take Magnus Lukas Damora as my husband and future king. A bond that will begin this day and go forth unto eternity.”

The priest anointed her forehead with the fragrant oil. Even though he was from Limeros, she was certain she now saw pity in his eyes. “And so it is, and so it shall be, from this day forward until death and beyond. You are wed. You are husband and wife. It is done.”

It is done.

M
elenia looked up as Alexius entered her chambers in the crystal palace. It was a room filled with light and flowers. A floor-to-ceiling crystal window looked out to the expansive city far below, where other immortals made their home.

The window bore a jagged crack down the center. The massive tremor in the mortal world had been clearly felt here as well. Many immortals, in fact, had panicked, believing this to be the end.

But Alexius knew differently.

He’d already been on his way to see Melenia when it happened. His steps were focused, his mind clear. There were matters that needed to be discussed, and they couldn’t wait another day.

As she stood from the seating area, her diaphanous robes swished around her curves. Her eyes were blue—a vivid sapphire shade that no one could ever mistake as mortal.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said before he had uttered a single word. He was struck by her beauty, as he always was. She held her hands out to him as he drew closer. “You can celebrate with me another sign of our success. We’re close now. So close I can taste it.”

“And what does it taste like?”

“Like sweet victory. At long last.” Her smile fell as she saw he did not look pleased by this. She reached up to press her cool hands against his warm cheeks. This woman seemed so small and fragile before him, but he knew she was anything but. He’d never known anyone stronger in his entire existence. For so long, he had admired that strength. “What is wrong? You look so troubled.”

“I am troubled. The princess awoke from her deep slumber earlier.”

“I see. And now it will be more difficult for you to access her dreams.”

“That’s not it.”

She watched him carefully. “Then what is it? Unburden yourself to me, Alexius. You know you can trust me. We share all of our secrets, don’t we?”

So many secrets, he’d lost count of them all. “Two disasters in the mortal world. The tornado and the earthquake. It’s unfolding exactly as you said it would.”

“Yes.”

Melenia was a very special immortal, different from the others. More powerful in so many ways. She could see many things the others couldn’t—that which happened here in the Sanctuary and beyond into the mortal world. Her sight was clear and focused and always had been.

“And you continue to visit the king’s dreams?” he asked.

There was a pause this time before she spoke. “Not recently. He already knows what I need him to do.”

It was another of Melenia’s many secrets. Elders did not possess the ability to enter the dreams of mortals. Such a task was never easy and was always draining of one’s magic and physical strength. But for an elder, it was impossible.

Except for Melenia.

“It won’t be long before my road is finished,” she said. There was joy in her voice.

Yes, her road. A road that had to be swiftly built by mortal hands. A road that needed to pass certain locations along its twisting path.

And, of course, since it wasn’t
only
a road, one mustn’t forget that there needed to be a great deal of blood spilled on it.

Blood—everything depended on blood. It was elemental. It was magic. Even when it flowed from the veins of mortals.

And when the road was finally completed . . .

“I need to know if there’s another way,” Alexius said, the words thick in his throat.

Melenia’s brows drew together. “Another way?”

He raised his gaze to meet hers, trying to shield the ache in his chest beneath his golden, swirling mark. Other immortals didn’t know of Melenia’s plans, but he did. He’d agreed to them when originally enlisted to her cause. He’d been certain he could stay the course.

Now he doubted himself.

Understanding entered her blue eyes. “I wanted you to make contact with her. To speak with her. To establish whether or not she was truly the sorceress prophesied by Eva so many years ago. You did as I asked of you perfectly.”

“She’s an innocent, Melenia.”

“No mortal who lives and breathes more than a day is innocent.”

“Help me understand. How are you so certain that your plan is the only one there is to find the Kindred? To release us from this prison? How are you so sure of it?”

Her jaw tensed as she swept past him toward the edge of her chambers, indicating the walls with a wave of her hand. Etched into the silver and crystal were the symbols of the elements—earth, fire, air, and water. It was her shrine to the Kindred, one many immortals had in their living quarters. They prayed to the symbols, hoping for answers, for guidance in the long days, years, centuries that had passed with no change and no escape.

“Because they speak to me,” Melenia said very simply, running her fingers lightly over the triangular symbol for fire. “They tell me what to do. How to find them. And your princess is the key. When my road is complete, her blood will be spilled. All of it.”

A shudder went through Alexius.

Once, he was prepared to sacrifice Lucia for the sake of saving his world before the magic faded completely from it. He’d been committed to the cause, as had a select few immortals chosen specially by Melenia to join her small army.

Melenia turned from her shrine to study Alexius and she tilted her head. “I wanted her to fall in love with you, to make her more willing, more pliable. But you’ve fallen for her as well, haven’t you?”

“No.” He bit out the bitter word, feeling the falseness of it leave his mouth.

“You can’t lie to me. I know the truth when I see it.” She sighed. “This complicates matters.”

“I need to go to her.”

“Yes, I’m sure you think you do.” Her hand remained upon the symbol for fire as she gave him a quizzical look. “You’re not the only one currently infatuated with a mortal. Phaedra has allegedly been watching one closely as well. A rebel.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “A rebel?”

“I don’t trust her. She sees too much. She knows too much, just as Stephanos did. I worry that your friend is becoming a liability to my plans.”

She said it lightly, but a gnawing concern began to build within Alexius’s gut. If Phaedra proved herself a problem for Melenia, then he worried deeply for her. Phaedra did not guard her thoughts or her words. She spoke her mind too plainly and she acted spontaneously and without thorough consideration of any risks. Such behavior could earn her enemies. Powerful ones.

Perhaps it already had.

“Why must your plans remain secret?” He asked the question that had been plaguing him for months. “To find the Kindred, to break the chains keeping us trapped within the Sanctuary: it benefits all of us. Why not tell Timotheus or Danaus of the princess? Of the road?” He hesitated. “Is there something more you seek that they would not approve of?”

“Don’t worry about such things. And don’t worry about your princess.”

“I need to go to her,” he said again. “Now. It cannot wait.”

“No, you don’t need to go anywhere. Not yet. Not until I’m ready for the final piece of this puzzle to snap into place.”

“The final piece of your puzzle means her death.”

“You agreed to this, Alexius. You agreed to what would save your kind, save the world. Do you really want to change your mind now?”

“What I want is to find another solution.”

“There are no other solutions.” She came toward him and took his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. “I understand, I do. I understand what it’s like to love someone forbidden to me. To pine away for him. To ache for his touch and know that a future together is impossible. I know to what lengths someone is willing to go to help the one they love more than anyone else.”

His eyes met hers, hope flooding his heart.

She fixed him with a cool smile. “And I know how dangerous it is to have thoughts like these.”

“Melenia . . .”

“Say nothing more. I need you to regain your objectivity and your devotion to me and my cause. The princess’s life will be sacrificed for the sake of the Kindred. Their magic is all that matters.”

“I need to talk to her.” The words stuck in his throat.

“No, you don’t.” Her grip on him tightened and he couldn’t pull away. He felt a draining sensation spreading through him. She was draining his magic, his ability to shift form, to enter the dreams of mortals. To do anything but breathe and exist.

It would be all it took to keep him away from Lucia.

There was a reason why Melenia was the most powerful immortal of them all. She could do
this
.

“Not all love is eternal,” she whispered to him as he weakened and fell to his knees before her. “Not all love has the power to change worlds. What you feel for the princess is a passing fancy, that is all. Trust me, Alexius. I’m only doing this to help you.”

He’d promised Lucia he would come to her in her dreams. He’d come here to try to find a way to save her life.

On both tasks he’d failed.

Yet he knew that Melenia spoke the truth, that he was thinking irrationally and was in danger of becoming a liability to her plans. The life of one sixteen-year-old sorceress was not worth the destruction of everything and everyone.

Lucia would have to die. And one day very soon, he would be the one to take her life.

There was no turning back.

“I
s my magic evil?”

It was the first thing Lucia asked when her father had come to visit her bedside before he left for the wedding. She needed to know the truth, and her father was well known for his candor. Magnus would easily lie to protect her feelings. Perhaps he already had. And Alexius—did she really believe anything he’d told her? Had he even been real? Now that she was awake, she’d begun to doubt what she’d seen. What she’d felt. The thought that he might only have been a dream was now a heavy weight that lay on her chest.

“No, it’s not evil,” the king replied, kneeling beside her bed and grasping her hands tightly in his. He smiled brighter than she’d seen in ages. “It’s incredible. It’s wonderful. You are a sorceress, Lucia. A beautiful and powerful sorceress. You’ve been blessed by the goddess with a great gift.”

His words were so sincere they brought tears to her eyes. “No, it’s a curse. Mother believed so.”

“She was wrong. Your mother was wrong about many things. If anything, your
elementia
will be a challenge to you, but one you shall easily master. I have a new tutor at the ready. She and I have been waiting for you to wake up. She will visit you later today to begin your lessons.” He stood so he could lean over and kiss her forehead. “Know this: I am so lucky to be able to call you daughter. I would not feel this way if I had any doubts about you, Lucia. I have none at all.”

Tears burned in her eyes at his beautiful words.

“To wield this power is your destiny. One cannot avoid their destiny. One shouldn’t even try, since it will only bring pain. Embracing it is the only sound answer—the only answer that will give you peace.”

There were times when she’d had misgivings about her father, especially his tendency toward cruelty. She’d seen how he’d treated the citizens of Limeros, servants, and even Magnus himself over the years. She was well aware of his wider reputation.

But to her recollection, he’d never been cruel to her. Only kind. Only encouraging.

“Thank you, Father.” She sat up, ignoring the dizziness that came from such a sudden movement, and embraced him. He was the strength she needed today.

“Of course, my child.” He patted her cheek. “Now, I must make the journey to the temple. I only wish you could be there today, but it’s best that you rest.”

The temple. The wedding. “Father . . . Magnus doesn’t want to marry the princess.”

“But he will. Despite any initial protests, Magnus always does exactly what I tell him to do.” He studied her face. “In part, I did this for you, you know.”

She frowned. “For me?”

“I know how Magnus feels about you.”

Shame swelled inside her and her cheeks warmed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You needn’t say anything. It’s not your fault. It’s his. It’s a shameful weakness on his part that he can’t seem to control—and I can’t allow it to continue.”

“And you think forcing him into a marriage with Princess Cleiona will make him feel differently?”

“If nothing else, it’ll be a distraction. And they’ll be leaving at first light for their wedding tour, which will give you the time to fully focus on your magic and not worry about your brother’s unrequited love.” He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t share Magnus’s feelings, do you? While I don’t approve of the desire he harbors for you, if you felt the same for him—that would change everything.”

Her face heated even more. “No, I don’t. And I never will. The way he looks at me . . . I wish I knew what to say to him—to make him forget such unwelcome thoughts.”

The king turned his head slightly. “You know how I feel about eavesdroppers, my son.”

Lucia was confused by his words until she looked past the king to see that Magnus stood in the doorway to the room. Her heart sank. How much had he heard?

“Apologies, Father. I only came to say farewell to my sister.” Magnus’s flat gaze moved to her.

“Magnus . . .” she began, but he turned and left without another word.

The king’s attention returned to Lucia as she settled back down upon her pillows, her stomach now a hard, twisted knot. She’d hurt Magnus with her unthinking words.

She seemed to always be hurting him.

“It’s for the best,” the king said. “Everything turns out the way it was meant to in the end.”

“Of course,” she whispered.

When he left for the wedding, Lucia was all alone with her thoughts and regrets until the
elementia
tutor arrived much later.

Her name was Domitia, a witch who lived in a village a few hours from the City of Gold. She had a bright smile, long, straw-colored hair, and fine lines around her green eyes. She coaxed Lucia out of the bed slowly, and soon the dizziness faded and strength returned. The sleeping potion had finally left her system, the weariness dissipated, and Lucia felt ready to learn more about her magic from a knowledgeable tutor.

“I’m so pleased to be able to assist you!” Domitia said—no, gushed. “The king was very wise in choosing me.”

If the king did not find a specific use for a woman accused of witchcraft—be it in Limeros, or now here in Auranos—she faced a death sentence. Domitia quickly explained that she’d been captured in a recent sweep by guards, based on local rumors about her talents. Luckily for her, the king was searching for a suitable
elementia
tutor for his daughter and had freed her from the dungeons.

No wonder the woman’s demeanor was so cloyingly chipper.

“Let’s start with something simple, shall we?” Domitia said. “I’d like you to concentrate on these candles and light them one by one. I’ve been told you have a strong hold on fire magic.”

The witch had lined up ten candles of differing heights and thicknesses on a nearby table.

“You could say that.”

The witch had no idea Lucia was a prophesied sorceress. For all she knew, the king’s daughter was just another common witch saved from the dungeons only by her royal status.

“I can do fire magic myself. Allow me to demonstrate.” The witch’s forehead wrinkled as she studied the bare wicks of the candles. It was an amusing sight as she strained, her face scrunching with effort as if she was seated upon a chamber pot.

Lucia kept watching. One of the wicks began to glow. The witch’s breath came quicker and a thin layer of perspiration appeared on her forehead. Finally, a small flame danced upon the first candle.

Domitia exhaled shakily. “See? It can be done.”

“Very impressive,” Lucia said, even though a prickly impatience had now taken seed beneath her skin.

The witch nodded to acknowledge the magnitude of what she’d done. “It’s your turn, princess.”

Lucia’s gaze lingered on the unlit candles. “Do you know anything about prophecies, Domitia?”

“Prophecies, your grace?”

“Those pertaining to
elementia
.”

Domitia pursed her lips as her expression grew thoughtful. “Of course, there are many rumors of such things. It’s difficult to piece together what is real from what is false.”

Lucia had to determine if this woman was of any true worth to her. Alexius was gone, and while she hoped he would soon visit her dreams as he’d promised, she had to look for other answers. She required a skilled guide with knowledge of what she was and what she could do.

“Would you say you’re more accomplished than the average witch?”

Domitia brightened at the question. “Oh, yes, your grace! I have the ability to access not only fire magic, but some water as well. These elements are complete opposites that often cancel each other out. They rarely appear within the same witch. I am very blessed to have this ability.”

“Show me your water magic,” Lucia said.

The witch wiped the sweat from her brow and moved across the room to get a goblet, which she filled with water from a nearby pitcher. She brought it back and placed it down on the table next to the lit candle.

“Watch,” she said, again scrunching her face as she studied the water.

Lucia observed over the witch’s shoulder to see, after a time, the water slowly begin to swirl. She waited, but the witch gave her a triumphant glance.

“Disappointing.”

The witch looked at her with shock. “Disappointing? My magic has taken me years to master to this level.”

“Your mastery is questionable.” Lucia sighed. “I’m afraid, from what I’ve seen here, you don’t know nearly enough to be able to help me. But I do appreciate your visit.”

Alarm lit in the woman’s gaze much quicker than she could light a candle. “Apologies, your grace, that I’ve disappointed you. I want to help you as much as I can. It’s all I care about.”

“Of course it is,” Lucia murmured. “You must know my father’s penchant for ending the lives of accused witches who serve no purpose to him.”

“And yet his own daughter is one.” Domitia’s cheeks then began to flame. “Oh—apologies again. I don’t mean any offense. Please forgive me!”

Was this the sort of power her father favored so much? The ability to incite fear in someone by uttering a few simple words? Lucia was disturbed to realize it was a curiously pleasant sensation.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” Lucia said more gently.

Domitia wrung her hands. “I—I’m not. Of course, I’ve heard troubling stories about the king, and the prince as well, but I’ve been assured that you are kind and gracious. A true princess in every sense of the word.”

“I certainly have tried to be in the past.” Lucia trailed her fingers over the table the practice candles were set upon. “But lately, I must admit, I’ve become increasingly worried.”

“Worried, your grace?”

Oh—how was she to put into words how she felt? It was difficult to wrap her mind around it fully, but she couldn’t ignore the truth of it. “I have something within me that . . .
hungers
. I can only explain it as a caged beast. I didn’t feel it when I was asleep, but now that I’m awake I find it impossible to ignore.”

“I don’t understand, princess. A beast within you? What does this mean?”

“They tell me it’s not evil. It doesn’t feel evil, really. But there is a darkness taking hold,” Lucia said, and as she spoke she realized just how true her words were, “as if the night itself wraps me in an embrace that grows tighter every moment.”

Domitia’s gaze filled with understanding. She nodded. “What you’re feeling is perfectly normal for one able to harness any part of
elementia
. But don’t worry. Without blood sacrifice, our powers can’t be any more destructive than what I’ve shown you here today.” She leaned over to blow out the candle she’d lit earlier. “Now it’s your turn. Try to light this candle and we’ll take it from there. All right?”

The dark beast within her rolled over at Domitia’s dismissal of her previous words of warning. For that was what they were—a warning.

“Certainly,” Lucia said.

All ten wicks caught fire at once, the flames rising high into the air to lick the ceiling. The witch gasped and staggered back, drawing a shaking hand to her mouth.

“But—but, princess. I’ve never seen anything like this!”

Lucia couldn’t help but smile at the terrified confusion on the woman’s face. “No, I don’t suppose you have.”

Domitia’s wide eyes reflected the flickering fire. “And you do this with no effort at all. . . . Incredible . . .”

“Oh, there’s effort, I assure you. It’s a muscle inside me that begs to be flexed. Answer me this question. It’s a question I’ve posed to several people so far, yet my dead mother’s opinion still lingers as if her ghost now haunts me. Is this magic I wield evil?”

“Evil?” Domitia repeated, her voice shaking. “I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer.” Lucia thrust her hands out toward the witch, summoning air magic. It wrapped itself around the woman and slammed her up and back against the wall, pinning her there like a butterfly on a board.

Domitia gasped. “What are you doing?”

It was an excellent question. What was Lucia doing?

Whatever it was . . . it felt good.

The fire blazed behind her—so hot that sweat dripped down her back. Too hot. She needed something cold to balance it. Fire and water were opposites. The witch herself had said they often canceled each other out.

Lucia wanted to know if this was true. She glanced at the goblet of water the witch had used. A focused thought drew the water from its container, and it traveled through the air until level with where Lucia stood.

She studied it, cocking her head, and she thought of home. Of Limeros.

The water froze in the air, forming itself into the shape of a spear.

The witch yelped as the sharp piece of ice moved closer to her, close enough to touch her throat. The dark beast within Lucia approved of this. It had a great thirst for fresh blood now that it had finally awoken.

“I will have to tell my father when he returns from my brother’s wedding how disappointed I am in his poor choice of tutor.”

“Princess, please!” Domitia shrieked. “I will do anything you ask of me! Please don’t hurt me!”

The words were hollow in Lucia’s ears. Instead, she focused on the spear of ice, pressing it close enough to break the witch’s skin. A bright line of red blood spilled down her throat. The sight of it fascinated Lucia. How much blood could be spilled before the woman perished? And would this blood sacrifice help increase Lucia’s power even more?

A rumble sounded loud all around her and the floor began to shake. Lucia lost her footing and fell hard to the ground, bruising her shoulder. The spear of ice fell and shattered.

“What is this?” Lucia managed. “What’s happening?”

The candles fell off the table, their flames extinguishing before they landed on the floor. Lucia’s gaze whipped toward the witch, who held her hand to her injured throat and stared at the princess with fear as the earthquake finally came to a stop.

Lucia’s heart leapt into her throat as the beast within her withdrew into its dark cave.

Goddess, what had she been thinking? She’d nearly killed this poor woman!

Domitia’s voice trembled. “What are you?”

Lucia forced herself to look the witch directly in her eyes. “You will say nothing of what happened here if you value your life.”