Rebel Spring (Falling Kingdoms 2)
Page 28
His gaze flicked, startled, to Mira, who’d drawn close enough to fill a water goblet. She met his eyes and seemed jolted by the icy glare she received.
“Your highness?”
“Be very careful,” he warned in a low voice. “Ears that are too eager to listen to secrets run the risk of being sliced off.”
Her face flushed a deep crimson and she turned away from him to scurry back to the far side of the room. A servant had no say in the shaping of her own destiny. But the son of a king—well, that was another matter entirely.
The king wanted the Kindred so he could possess their eternal, omnipotent power. This could prove to be the ultimate test for his son and heir.
For if it truly existed, Magnus decided, gripping Lucia’s velvety blankets in his fist, he would be the one to find it.
Chapter 4
LUCIA
THE SANCTUARY
Lucia remembered the explosion—the screams, the cries. The bodies lying bloody and broken all around her. Dead eyes staring out from heads lying in scarlet puddles. Then darkness fell for so long she thought she was dead and hadn’t gone to the peaceful everafter, but to the darklands, the place evil people went when they died—a place of endless torment and despair.
There were times she felt that she had woken, only to be pushed back down into the bottomless depths of sleep again, her mind foggy and uncertain.
She’d desperately prayed to the Goddess Valoria to forgive her . . . to save her . . . but her prayers to the Limerian deity had gone unanswered.
But then, finally, there was a dawning. Rays of sunshine warmed her skin with the heat of a summer’s day. And slowly, slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. The colors were so vivid and bright that she had to shield her eyes until she became used to the unexpected intensity.
Lucia found she wore flowing, white silk, a beautiful gown with gold embroidery at the edges of the bodice, as fine as anything the most accomplished dressmaker could create.
A lush meadow spread out for miles all around her. Above stretched a glorious cerulean sky. The scent of wildflowers filled the warm air. A cluster of fragrant trees laden with fruit and blossoms stood to her right. Soft grass and moss pressed against her palms as she pushed herself up enough to take in her surroundings with growing shock.
At first glance, the meadow appeared to be like any other, but it was not. Several of the trees that looked similar to willows shimmered as if made from crystal, the branches sweeping to the ground like delicate glass feathers. Other trees appeared to bear golden fruit from branches adorned with jewel-like leaves. The grass was not only emerald green, but was swirled together with silver and gold as if each blade had been dipped in precious metal.
To her distant left were rolling green hills—beyond which was a city that appeared to be built entirely from crystal and light. Closer to the meadow were two beautifully carved white stone wheels set into the earth facing each other, each the height of three grown men, sparkling in the daylight as if coated in diamonds.
It was all so strange and beautiful that for a long, breathless moment she couldn’t look away.
“Where am I?” she whispered.
“Welcome to the Sanctuary, princess.”
Her head whipped back in the direction of the trees to see that a young man now approached. She fought to rise to her feet as quickly as possible, scrambling back from him a few steps.
“Stay back!” He’d surprised her, and her heart now beat like a wild thing trapped in her chest. “Don’t come any closer.”
o;You really believe the Kindred are real.”
“I believe.”
The Kindred was a legend—Magnus had never thought it anything more than that—four crystals, containing the very essence of elementia, that had been lost a thousand years ago. To possess them would give their bearer omnipotent power—the power of a god.
Magnus was tempted to think his father had gone insane, but there was no madness in his steady gaze right now. His sight was clear and focused, if obsessed. The king truly believed in the Kindred and he believed in the existence of Watchers. Until recently, Magnus had not shared this belief. But the proof of magic, of elementia, lay in this very bed. He’d seen it with his own eyes. And if a prophesied sorceress could be real, so too could the Kindred.
“I will leave you to watch over your sister. Inform me immediately if she awakens.” The king then departed from Lucia’s chambers, leaving Magnus alone with the sleeping princess and his own troubled thoughts.
Her magic is the key.
He was silent for a long time, his gaze focused on the balcony and the bright sunshine this afternoon. Potted olive trees waved gracefully in the warm breeze. He could hear the chirping of birds and could smell the sweet scent of flowers.
Magnus hated it here.