“I can access its magic,” she said. “I can draw out Timotheus. This is exactly what we’ve been looking for.”
Kyan lips stretched into a smile, and he laughed. “Oh, this is wonderful. You are a goddess, my little sorceress. And you will stand by my side, as I burn all of the weakness away from this world.”
“Just like a forest fire,” she said, remembering a lesson from her past. Despite the devastation they caused, forest fires made new life possible by forcing old life to run its course.
“Yes, just like a forest fire. Once the Sanctuary is gone, we will rebuild this world, reconstruct it just as it was in the beginning.”
“What beginning?” she asked.
He clasped her chin. “The very beginning. It will take patience, but we’ll get it right this time. We will create a perfect world.”
She willed the smile to stay on her face, but suddenly she felt unsteady. “I thought all you wanted was for Timotheus to die so he couldn’t imprison you again.”
“That is just the first step in my grand, revolutionary plan.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “So what you’re saying is, you believe this world—my world—to be one big forest that needs to be burned away so new life can grow in its place?”
“Exactly. It’s for the best.” Kyan’s smile faded a bit, and he watched her more carefully now. “There’s nothing to worry about, little sorceress. With magic as strong and pure as this”—he gazed up at the monolith—“you can become immortal, just like those who think they control me.”
“But don’t you need your siblings to be present for this?”
“They’d be better off remaining where they are for now. It’s best that I be the one in control in these beginning days. But very soon we’ll be reunited.” His kind, broad grin returned. “Summon Timotheus here now, little sorceress. I’ve waited an eternity for this moment.”
Timotheus knew this already—Kyan’s grand plan for the world. He had to. But he hadn’t said a word to her about this in her dreams. Not that she would have believed him if he had. Which was exactly why he’d left her to discover this all on her own.
On the cliffs the night Alexius died, after she’d killed Melenia, Lucia had been left feeling so hurt, so betrayed, that she’d wanted nothing more than to hurt everyone else in return. She’d nothing left to live for, so she hadn’t cared if everyone else died right along with her.
Lucia had wanted to watch the world burn.
And now, because of Kyan, it would.
“No,” she said softly.
“Sorry? What did you say?”
“I said no.”
“No? No to what? Do you feel ill? Do you need to rest before we begin?”
She looked up into his amber eyes. “I won’t help you do this, Kyan.”
Kyan frowned, his brow furrowing and his eyes glowing hot. “But you promised.”
“Yes, I promised to help you reclaim your freedom, reunite you with your family, to go so far as to kill someone I considered an enemy to get you what you desired most. But this . . . destroying everything and everyone.” She shook her head, gesturing to the mountains and barren forest around her. “I’ll be no part of this.”
“The world is tragically flawed, little sorceress. Even in our short time together we’ve seen countless examples of this—men and women obsessed with their own little lives, their greed, their lust, their vanity, every weakness compounding on the next.”
“Mortals are weak—that’s what makes them mortals. But they’re also strong, resilient during crises that test their faith or threaten the people and things they love. There’s no such thing as perfection, Kyan.”
“There will be once I carry out my plan. I will create perfection in this world.”
“You aren’t meant to create it. You aren’t meant to destroy it. You’re only meant to sustain it.”
His expression had turned from plaintive to downright unpleasant. “You would dare judge me—you, a mortal child who’s barely even tasted life?”
It was rare for her to feel this certain about anything. Even rarer that she’d take a stand when another opposed her.
She had changed.