Rebel Spring (5 page)

The king leaned over to brush the dark hair back from Lucia’s face. “I sent some men after her. The news has reached me that they found her easily with a bag of gold she’d stolen from us. Of course, they executed her immediately.” His attention then shifted to Magnus, a small smile playing at his lips. “I thought you’d want to know.”

Magnus ignored the sharp and sudden twinge of pain in his chest. He measured his words before he spoke. “It was . . . the end such a thief deserved.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

Amia had been innocent and foolish—a girl who lacked the steel in her heart to survive the harshness of the Limerian palace. But she hadn’t deserved to die. Magnus waited to feel grief but felt only coldness slide over his skin. Part of him had been expecting this since the moment Amia’s carriage had departed the castle, but he’d hoped for the best. He should have known better. His father would never allow one to escape who might possess secrets that could be used against him.

The girl’s fate had been set from the moment her path had crossed that of the Damoras. This was only confirmation of it. Still, it incensed Magnus that his father said such things casually when Amia’s death was anything but. The king was testing him—checking for weaknesses in his heir.

The king was always testing him.

They were silent for a while, Lucia the focal point between them.

“I need her to wake,” the king said, his jaw tense.

“Hasn’t she done enough for you already?”

“Her magic is the key to finding the Kindred.”

“Who told you that?” His growing impatience with his father’s decisions today made his words sharper than usual. “Some random witch with a need for silver? Or perhaps a hawk perched upon your shoulder and whispered—”

The sting of his father’s hand across his scarred cheek caught him entirely by surprise. He pressed his palm to his face and stared at the king.

“Never mock me, Magnus,” the king growled. “And never again try to make me look like a fool in front of others as you did today. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” he gritted out.

His father hadn’t struck him recently, but it had been a common practice in his youth. Much like the cobra, the official sigil of Limeros, King Gaius struck out violently and venomously when angered or challenged.

Magnus wrestled against the urge to leave the room since he knew it would make him look weak.

“I learned this new information from my latest royal advisor,” the king said finally. He moved to the opposite side of Lucia’s bed, his attention fixed again upon her peaceful face.

“Who is it?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Let me guess. Did this mysterious advisor also suggest building your road into the Forbidden Mountains?”

This earned Magnus a look that had regained some respect. He’d asked the right question. “She did.”

So his father’s new advisor was a woman. This didn’t come as a complete surprise to Magnus. The king’s last trusted advisor had been his longtime mistress, a beautiful if treacherous witch by the name of Sabina.

“You really believe the Kindred are real.”

“I believe.”

The Kindred were a legend—Magnus had never thought them 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.

He much preferred the snow and the ice, which was what Limeros was best known for. He liked the cold. It was simple. It was perfect and pristine.

But this golden land was where his father believed he could begin his search for the very essence of elemental magic, not in Limeros. And if this beautiful girl who lay sleeping before him was the key to finding it, Magnus couldn’t ignore such knowledge.

With the Kindred in hand, he and Lucia would truly be equals in every way. He didn’t dare let himself hope further—that perhaps possessing the Kindred would cause Lucia to look at him differently. Instead, he reflected that if he managed to find this lost treasure, he would prove his full worth to the king and earn his father’s complete respect once and for all.

“Wake up, Lucia,” he urged. “We’ll find the Kindred together—you and me.”

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 they truly existed, Magnus decided, gripping Lucia’s velvety blankets in his fist,
he
would be the one to find them.

L
ucia 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.”

“I mean you no harm.”

Why would she believe him? She clenched her fist and summoned fire magic. Her hand burst into flame.

“I don’t know you. Stop right where you are or I swear I will defend myself!”

He did as she asked, now only five paces from her. He cocked his head and studied her hand as if fascinated. “Fire magic is the most unpredictable piece of
elementia
. You should be careful how you choose to wield it.”

“And you should be careful whom you approach unannounced if you don’t want to get burned.”

She tried to sound calm, but he had taken her by surprise. Now all she could do was stare at the single most beautiful boy she’d seen in her entire life. Tall and lean, with golden skin, his hair burnished bronze, his eyes the color of dark silver. He wore a loose white shirt and white pants and he stood barefoot upon the soft, shimmering grass.

“I witnessed what you did to the witch when your powers fully awakened,” he said casually, as if they were having a regular conversation. “The king’s mistress tried to force you to use your
elementia
in her presence. You reduced her to ash.”

She felt a wave of nausea at the mention of Sabina’s horrific death. The stench of burning flesh still haunted her. “How is it possible you witnessed such a thing?”

“You’d be surprised what I know about you, princess.” His voice was liquid gold, and it caused a shiver to race through her. “My name is Alexius. I am one of those known to mortals as Watchers. I’ve . . .
watched
over you since you were an infant.”

“Watcher.” The word caught in her throat and her gaze snapped to his. “You’re a
Watcher
?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe in such stories.”

“They’re not stories.” He frowned. “Well, I suppose they
are
stories, but that doesn’t mean they’re not true. Believe me, princess, I’m very real. Every bit as real as you are.”

Impossible. He was far too
unreal
, just as this meadow was. She’d never seen anything like him before in her life.

She kept her fist clenched and burning. “And this place? You said it’s the Sanctuary?”

He glanced around before his gaze again locked with hers. “This is only a copy of what my home looks like. I’m visiting you in your dreams. I needed to see you, to introduce myself, and to tell you that I can be of assistance to you. I have wanted to do this for so long, but I’m very happy to finally meet you face-to-face.”

Then he smiled—such a genuine, open, beautiful smile—and Lucia’s heart skipped a beat.

No. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by such things. Her head swam with what he’d said so far, and his very presence had her off-balance.

In Limeros, only books that held facts, that held solid truths, were permitted by the king in the palace to educate his children. But Lucia had been born with a desire for knowledge of all kinds, beyond that which was allowed. She’d managed to get her hands on forbidden childhood storybooks, in which she’d learned the legends of Watchers and the Sanctuary. She’d read the stories about their ability to enter the dreams of mortals. But that was all they were—only stories.

This couldn’t be real. Could it?

“If you’ve watched over me for as long as you say—” It seemed utterly impossible that he had. He couldn’t be much older than she was. “Then why have you only introduced yourself now?”

“It wasn’t the right time before.” His lips quirked. “Although, believe me, of those of my kind, I am
not
the most patient. It’s been difficult to wait, but I’m introducing myself now. I can help you, princess—and you can help me.”

He spoke nonsense. If he really was a Watcher, an immortal being who lived in a world apart from that of mortals, why would he need the help of a sixteen-year-old girl?

Then again, she realized, she was no regular sixteen-year-old girl, as she’d readily proven by setting her fist ablaze with a mere thought.

“I don’t believe anything you say to me.” She put as much conviction into her words as she could muster, even though she had a sudden desire to learn as much as she could about Alexius. “Watchers—they’re only legend, and this . . .
this
is just a silly dream. I’m dreaming you, that’s all. You’re nothing but a figment of my imagination.”

She’d never realized her imagination was this incredible.

Alexius crossed his arms, studying her with both interest and an edge of frustration, but didn’t attempt to get any closer. He looked again at her clenched fist, which continued to burn like a torch. It caused her no discomfort, only a slight warm sensation. “I thought this would be easier.”

She laughed at that, the sound raw in her throat. “There’s nothing easy about this, Alexius. I want to wake up. I want out of this dream.”

But how could it be a dream when it felt so real? She could smell the flowers, she felt the ground beneath beneath her bare feet, the damp sponginess of the moss, the ticklish spears of grass. No dream had ever been this vivid. And what was that crystal city just over the hill? There was nothing like it in the mortal world—or like this strange and magical meadow. She would have heard of something so astonishing. Even in the books describing the legends about Watchers, she’d never seen an illustration or description of such a city.

He followed her line of sight. “That is where we live.”

Lucia’s gaze snapped back to his and her breath caught. “Then why aren’t I there? Why am I here in this meadow?”

Alexius briefly scanned the area. “This is where I fell asleep so I could find you in my dreams. It’s private here and quiet. Very few know I like to come here.”

She began to pace in short, quick lines, her white skirts swishing, so long that they nearly tripped her up. She focused all her attention on Alexius, half expecting him to lunge forward and attack her at any moment. For him to peel back his handsome face and reveal something horrific and ugly beneath. Perhaps he was a demon keeping her asleep and trapped in nightmares—she’d once read of such a thing, although, again, it was in a child’s book of stories she’d read quickly before tucking it away beneath her bed so no one would see it.

Fine. If she was stuck here, she needed to talk. She needed answers to questions that bubbled up in her throat—about the strange and alluring Alexius, about everything.

“How old are you?”

His brows rose, as if he hadn’t expected this question. “Old.”

“You don’t look old.”

“None of us do.” His amused expression had begun to enrage her. There was nothing amusing about this. “You can put out the fire, princess. I mean you no harm today, I assure you.”

Her hand continued to burn. With a focused thought, she made the flames higher and brighter. She would take orders from no one, especially not some imaginary boy from her dreams.

It only made Alexius’s smile grow. “Very well, have it your way. Perhaps if you see for yourself—even in the confines of this dream—what I am, you might begin to believe it. This is only our first meeting. There will be others.”

An unbidden shiver of anticipation slid up her spine. “Not if I have anything to say about it. I will wake soon and you’ll be gone.”

“Perhaps. But mortals need to sleep every day, don’t they? You won’t be able to escape me quite that easily, princess.”

Lucia glared at him but had to admit it was a point well made.

“Watch me.” He stepped backward and raised his hands to his sides. There was a swirling around him, blurring his image for a moment, the air shifting, shimmering, turning.

The next moment, his arms were wings, his skin sporting golden feathers that shone beneath the sunlight. With a flap of these wings, he took flight.

He was a hawk, one who soared high into the clear blue sky. Amazed, Lucia shielded her eyes from the bright light, unable to look away—and noticed her fire had extinguished without her even realizing it.

Finally, he came to perch in a nearby tree, laden with golden apples. Both hesitant and fascinated, she drew closer and studied him, surprised that his eyes had remained the exact same shade of dark silver.

“This proves nothing,” she told the hawk, but her heart pounded hard and fast. “Anything can happen in a dream. It doesn’t make it real.”

He let go of the branch with his sharp talons, but before he touched the ground he had shifted back into the form of a young man. He looked down at himself.

“Usually when we shift form, we don’t retain our clothing—feathers become flesh, flesh becomes feathers. It’s the only difference you would note in the waking world.”

Heat touched her cheeks at the suggestion that he would currently be completely nude if she was awake. “Then I suppose I should be thankful this is only a dream.”

“You know this is real because you know who you are, what you are. Your destiny is tied to the Sanctuary, princess. It’s tied to the Watchers, to the Kindred.” He boldly drew closer, his gaze intensifying. “Your destiny is tied to
me
, and it always has been.”

His nearness disturbed her and, for a moment, made it impossible to concentrate or speak.

She realized there was substance and truth to what he said. Her body might be lying unconscious in a bed, but her mind, her spirit . . . they were here.

“You’ve watched me because of the prophecy,” she said.

A frown creased his brow as he studied her, as if memorizing her features. “Yes. You are the sorceress I’ve been waiting a millennium for.”

“That
you’ve
been waiting for?”

Alexius nodded. “Many didn’t believe, but I did. And I waited until you came into your magic before I could talk to you. To guide you. To help you.” He was silent until she, again, looked up to meet his silver eyes directly. “Your magic is far too powerful for you right now and it’s only growing stronger by the day. You don’t even realize it yet.”

“Oh, believe me,” she said quietly, “I’m very aware of how powerful it is.”

Her father, King Gaius, had her use her newfound magic to break down the protective warding on the entrance to the Auranian castle after a bloody battle outside the City of Gold’s walls. It rose up like a fiery dragon before her, and the combination of the warding’s magic and her own
elementia
had caused the explosion that killed so many people.

“Will I ever wake?” she whispered. “Or will I die in my sleep as punishment for what I’ve done?”

“You were not meant to die in your sleep. This much I know for sure.”

Relief rose within her at his words. “How do you know?”

“Because we need you. Your magic will make the difference to us, to the Sanctuary.”

“How?”

Alexius tore his gaze from hers to scan the meadow, his expression growing strained. “The elemental magic that exists here, that has been trapped within my world like sand in an hourglass, has been slipping away ever since the Kindred were stolen from us and lost. Ever since the last sorceress ceased to exist—the sorceress who had the exact same magic as you have. Her name was Eva and she was also an immortal Watcher.”

“Eva is my middle name,” Lucia said, surprised.

“Yes, it is. And it was Eva who gave the prophecy with her last breath before she died—that the next sorceress would be born in a thousand years—a mortal girl who would wield
elementia
as she could. It is you. King Gaius knew of this prophecy all this time. He knew what you were to become. That is why he raised you as his own daughter.”