“Now come on. Let’s move. They’ll be searching for the two of you as soon as they realize you’re gone.”
“Where are we going?” Tarus asked.
“Paelsia. I’m taking you back to your family, kid.”
“But, Jonas—”
“No buts. You’re too young for all of this. You get another year stronger and then you can join me again if you want.”
“But I—” Any further protest died on Tarus’s tongue, and Lysandra saw a whisper of relief slide through his eyes. “Fine. If that’s your official order, I’ll do as you say.”
“It is.”
Lysandra’s mind relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages. The thought of Tarus with a chance to be relatively safe was a huge relief.
“What about me?” Lysandra asked. “I don’t have a family to go home to anymore.”
“Yeah . . . you. You’re more of a problem.” Jonas exchanged a look with Felix. “So I guess what you do now is your choice, Lys.”
Mere hours ago, she was as good as dead. Now her whole future was ahead of her.
“What’s your plan?” she asked. “If it’s still to kill the king, he was out in the open today. You could have taken a shot.”
“He wasn’t my priority today. I couldn’t lose focus for anything. But now that you’re free, my old plan is new again. I won’t rest until the king has lost his throne and his power is taken away forever. Until he has taken his last breath. Until all Paelsians are free to control their own destinies.”
Lysandra and Jonas locked eyes. “Then we have the same goal.”
He nodded once. “Then I guess you’re staying with us.”
“I guess so.”
Just when she’d been ready to accept her death, her fire had returned. It had been trampled, but it had never been fully extinguished.
Lysandra was alive. Her spirit was renewed.
And she was ready to fight again.
CHAPTER 15
LUCIA
AURANOS
How fascinating, to study the face of someone who knew she was moments from death.
Lucia hadn’t been present for the last set of executions, but there had been plenty of them in Limeros during King Gaius’s reign. In the past she’d always found it an unpleasant necessity, but she’d never felt sorry for the criminals. After all, those who lost their heads had chosen to commit crimes. They’d known the punishment but had acted unjustly anyway.
Her father had also put many accused witches to death over the years—all cruel women who’d used their magic to hurt others. After her elementia had awakened, he’d explained to Lucia how her magic was different from theirs.
The witches’ magic was evil, strengthened by blood sacrifice and dark deceit.
Her magic was pure, prophesized. It was good.
“Barbaric,” Cleo said under her breath as the two rebels were brought to the stage.
“Didn’t your father have executions?” Lucia asked Cleo. A boy with bright blond hair darted through the audience and caught her eye. He was one of few who didn’t stand with the crowd, transfixed by the king’s speech. In fact, he moved in the opposite direction with a lit torch in his hand, drawing annoyed looks from those he brushed past.
“Of course he did,” Cleo replied. “But they weren’t public spectacles like this.”