Rebel Spring (Falling Kingdoms 2)

“It’s Stephanos,” she said.

The name of Phaedra’s beloved mentor drew him closer. After

Phaedra’s own brother was exiled from the Sanctuary twenty years ago, she had turned to both Stephanos and Alexius as her closest friends in this realm. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s dying.” The long, flowing cloak she wore today was a shade of platinum, nearly an exact match to her hair.

“Dying?” The word was so foreign that it felt false on his tongue.

Dying was for mortals, not for those who lived in the Sanctuary.

She grabbed hold of his shirt to pull him closer. “They don’t want many to know, but I needed you here so you could see for yourself. There’s not much time left.”

She was frantic, and Alexius knew nothing he could say to her right now would ease her pain.

“What can be done?” he asked.

She just shook her head. “Nothing. There’s no way he can be saved.”

His heart sank. “Take me there.”

Phaedra led him to the uppermost level of the palace and into a large room surrounded by a circular glass wall. Otherwise, it was open to the sky—always blue and always day, never night. The room was bare apart from a raised, golden platform in the center. On this platform lay Stephanos. He was surrounded by the Three—those that made up the council of elders that governed this world. They were the oldest and most powerful of the immortals.

“Why is he here?” the elder named Danaus asked, his voice as unwelcoming as the question itself. He was the member of the Three that Alexius trusted the least—one he would never tell about his shared dreams with Princess Lucia, nor his discovery that she was the prophesied sorceress. Danaus was always prying into his business and trying to learn more about what Alexius did during his journeys to the princess’s world and the never-ending search for the Kindred.

The elder was jealous of Alexius’s ability to take hawk form and enter the mortal world. Since the Kindred had been lost, the three elders could no longer take hawk form. For all their power and influence among the immortals, they were trapped here, and had been for a millennium.

“I wanted him here,” Phaedra said, her chin raised high. She wasn’t intimidated by any of the elders and never had been.

Then again, Phaedra didn’t know some of the same secrets that Alexius did. Perhaps if she did, her bravery would waver.

“This is a private matter,” Danaus growled. “And it must remain so.”

“It’s all right,” Stephanos said, his voice as frail as his appearance. “I don’t mind another witness. You are welcome to stay, Alexius.”

“Thank you, Stephanos.”

Stephanos’s chest moved rapidly with labored breathing. Since the last time Alexius had seen him, his previously dark hair had turned white and brittle, his perfect golden skin now pallid and deeply lined like that of an old man.

A face that had never looked older than twenty-five mortal years now looked four times that.

The sight of such sudden and unexpected decay soured Alexius’s stomach and both pity and revulsion swirled within him.

Timotheus, a more welcome sight to Alexius, nodded in his direction. He was Alexius’s own mentor. In looks alone, he could be Alexius’s older brother, even though Timotheus was twice his age. The thought of losing such a wise friend, as Phaedra was about to lose her own, pained him deeply. But Timotheus looked as young and strong as ever. The only place the elder showed his age was in his golden eyes, now heavy with worry and grief.

Timotheus nodded in his direction and offered him the edge of a grim smile to show that he did not share Danaus’s unwelcoming attitude when it came to Alexius’s presence.

And then there was the third member of the council.

Alexius felt the weight of her gaze before he chanced a glance in her direction.

Melenia’s beauty, even among the beautiful immortals, was legendary. The elder seemed chiseled from gold, her pale hair falling to her knees in soft waves, a vision of perfection in every way— physically, the most glorious immortal ever to exist. While she appeared to be as young as the others on the council, Melenia was the oldest of their kind—her age countless. Eternal.

“Yes, you are welcome to stay,” she said smoothly. “Unless you would rather not, Alexius.”

Phaedra’s grip tightened on his hand. She wanted him here, to support her in this difficult time. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have wasted her magic in summoning him.

“Why is this happening?” Alexius asked, his throat tight.