Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms 4)
She kissed his forehead. “The most important changes take time and patience. But I have faith in you—more than anyone else in the whole world. You are destined for greatness, Gaius Damora. And I swear—no matter what I must do to ensure it—that greatness will be yours.”
CHAPTER 1
MAGNUS
LIMEROS
All women are deceptive, dangerous creatures. Each a spider poisonous enough to kill with a single bite. Remember that.”
The advice Magnus’s father once gave him echoed in his memory as he stood on the Ravencrest docks and watched the Kraeshian ship disappear into the darkness. The King of Blood had never fully trusted a woman. Not his queen, not his former mistress and advisor, not even an immortal who whispered secrets to him in his dreams. Magnus usually ignored most of what his ruthless father said, but now he knew who was the most dangerous and deceptive of all.
Amara Cortas had stolen the Kindred, an aquamarine orb which contained the essence of water magic, leaving blood and destruction in her wake.
The driving snow bit into his skin, helping to numb the pain of his broken arm. Dawn was still hours off and the night was frigid enough to steal his life if he was careless.
Still, he found it impossible to do anything but stare out at the black waters and the stolen treasure that was supposed to be his.
“Now what?” Cleo’s voice finally interrupted his dark thoughts.
For a moment, he’d forgotten that he wasn’t alone.
“Now what, princess?” he hissed, frozen clouds forming before his mouth with each word he spoke. “Well, I suppose we should enjoy the short time we have left before my father’s men arrive to execute us on sight.”
The penalty for treason was death, even for the heir to the throne. And he had, most certainly, committed treason when he helped the princess currently standing behind him escape execution.
GUE
35 Years Ago
The pitch-black monster reached toward the young boy with horrible, long-fingered hands, pressing him down into his bed, smothering him. It did this every night. And every night, the boy was terrified.
“No,” he whispered. “It’s not a monster, it’s just the darkness. It’s just the darkness!”
He wasn’t a baby anymore, afraid of the dark. He was nearly eight years old, and he swore to the goddess he wouldn’t cry out for his mother this time.
But this resolve lasted only a few more moments, until he couldn’t hold back his fear any longer. “Mother!” he called, and, as she always did, she came to him immediately and sat on the edge of his bed.
“My darling.” She gathered him into her arms and, clutching her tightly and feeling like a weak little fool, he let out a shuddery sob against her shoulder. “It’s all right. I’m here now.”
Light swelled as she lit the candle next to his bed. Though her beautiful face was cast in shadows, he could see anger in it, but he could tell it was not directed at him. “I’ve told them again and again to always have a candle burning in your room at night.”
“The breeze may have put it out,” he reasoned, not wanting to get any of his nursemaids in trouble.
“Perhaps.” She pressed her hand to his cheek. “Do you feel better now?”
Now with the light returned and his mother here he only felt foolish. “I’m sorry. I should have been braver.”
“Many fear the darkness, for very good reason,” she told him. “You’re not the only one who sees in it a horrible monster. But the only way to defeat the monster is . . . how?”
“By making friends with it.”
“That’s right.” She waved a hand at the lantern on the wall, lighting it with her fire magic. He watched her with awe, as he always did when she wielded elementia. She raised a brow at his reaction. “You don’t think I’m a monster, do you?”
“Of course not,” he said, shaking his head. His mother was a witch—a secret she’d shared only with him. She’d told him that some people were afraid of witches and thought them to be evil, but they were wrong. “Tell me the story again,” the boy said.
“Which one?”
“The one about the Kindred.” It was his favorite story, and it always helped him fall asleep on troubled nights.