Frozen Tides (23 page)

Magnus sat down heavily in his chair and pressed his hands
flat atop the table. It seemed that he and Jonas agreed on something. What an odd development.

His father was in Kraeshia with the emperor, conducting secret negotiations. And to think that, in his mind, Magnus was the traitor.

To rule the world was exactly what Gaius Damora wanted. And now he had the air Kindred.

Lucia and Kyan had the fire Kindred.

Amara had stolen the water Kindred.

That left only the earth Kindred unaccounted for.

“Agallon, you will go to Kraeshia as my representative to speak with Felix and his new group of rebels,” Magnus announced. “And then you'll find my father and put a dagger through his heart.”

It was the only way this could end.

“Will you do this?” Magnus asked after all had gone utterly silent at the table.

Jonas nodded. “I will.”

“Good. You'll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

CLEO

LIMEROS

R
oused from slumber, Cleo opened her eyes to find her room in shadows, and the sky outside her window still dark save for the light of the moon.

“Princess,” whispered an urgent voice. “I'm sorry to disturb you so early.”

A lantern's blaze cut through the darkness, bringing the face of Cleo's confidante into view.

She wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat up in bed. “What is it, Nerissa? Is something wrong?”

“I'm not sure ‘wrong' is quite the correct word . . . but there's something I knew you'd want to know, and it can't wait until morning.”

“Tell me.”

Nerissa sat on the edge of the bed. “Jonas and Nic returned yesterday.”

“What? Why am I not hearing this until now?”

“The prince got to them first and didn't want you to know.”

Oh, no.
A thousand different scenarios of how their return might have played out burst into her head at once.

“Are they all right? What has Magnus done to them?”

“They're fine,” Nerissa assured her. “I just saw them briefly. Jonas asked me to tell you he's leaving at dawn, boarding a ship at Black Harbor bound for Kraeshia.”

“To Kraeshia? Why to Kraeshia? To go after Amara and the water Kindred?”

“No. The prince has learned that King Gaius is currently in Kraeshia. He's sent him over to . . . take care of that situation.”

“Oh. I see.” Cleo was beyond surprised. Why would Magnus trust the rebel with such an important mission, especially after his unexplained disappearance? How desperate and bereft of other options he must be.

“Where's Nic now?” she asked.

“He's back in his room, sleeping I assume.”

Cleo felt a sudden thud of disappointment. “If their trip to Paelsia had been successful, they would have woken me immediately to deliver the news.”

“I'm sure Nic will tell you all about their trip in the morning.” Nerissa rose from the bed. “For now, go back to sleep. You'll need your rest tomorrow.”

It didn't feel right to her, any of it.

“Why would Magnus make such a monumental decision without consulting me first? Why hide it from me?”

“I don't know,” Nerissa said, shaking her head. “Do you usually expect him to consult with you?”

“I don't have any idea what I expect from him anymore,” she muttered. “Thank you for telling me this, Nerissa.”

“Try to sleep, princess.” Nerissa doused the flame in the lantern and turned to go.

“Do you really think I'll be able to go back to sleep now?”

Nerissa glanced over her shoulder. “Princess?”

“Help me get ready,” Cleo said, pushing off her blankets and climbing out of bed. “We need to get to Black Harbor before dawn.”

• • •

Black Harbor was located at the bottom of the high cliffs, below the castle grounds. A snaking road allowed travel by cart and carriage, but that route would make for a long journey, so Cleo and Nerissa decided instead to take the steps chiseled into the side of the cliff.

The
treacherous, icy
steps chiseled into the side of the cliff.

Finally, they reached the docks.

“Perhaps this was a foolish idea,” Cleo whispered, her cheeks stinging from the frigid wind.

“Not at all,” Nerissa assured her. “I admire you. You're standing up for yourself. You're not letting others make decisions that affect you. However . . .”

“Yes?”

“I wish we were still in Auranos. This cold is unbearable, and I miss the warmth of home.”

Cleo couldn't help but laugh. “Agreed.”

The small harbor was used only for docking ships visiting the palace, and for import and export. Today there were three large ships docked: two bearing the Auranian crest that carried imported goods such as vegetables, fruits, grains, and live animals—crates of chickens, pigs, and sheep—and one black ship with red sails bearing the Limerian cobra signet. Painted on the side of the ship were the words
Strength
,
Faith
, and
Wisdom
.

Dozens of sailors, servants, and other crew were moving about the docks, which was laden down with supplies. Cleo and Nerissa stayed back, watching the organized chaos.

“Princess.” Nerissa took her gloved hand and squeezed it to get her attention.

And then she saw it, a sight she never would have believed possible.

Jonas Agallon and Magnus Damora, walking side by side along the dock.

“All right,” she whispered. “That proves it. I'm still asleep and dreaming.”

Nerissa smiled. “Or it's proof that miracles are possible.”

Cleo couldn't tear her gaze away from the prince and the rebel. “Is Magnus smiling or clenching his teeth? Did Jonas just tell him a joke?”

“He's definitely clenching his teeth. I have a feeling Jonas won't be telling any jokes for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

Nerissa shook her head. “I thought it best that Nic tell you.”

Now Cleo was worried. Something must have gone terribly wrong in Paelsia. “Nerissa, Nic's not here. Clearly there's something I need to know, and you need to tell me.”

Nerissa met Cleo's gaze with dark, troubled eyes. “Lysandra's dead.”

Cleo gasped. “
What?
”

“During their journey they came across Princess Lucia and another man and . . . it didn't go well. I don't know much more than that, princess. I'm sorry.”

“No. Oh, no!” Cleo gasped.

Lucia and another man.
It had to be the companion who came to the palace, looking for the stone wheel. This was his doing. She knew it to be true, without a single doubt.

“I didn't know Lysandra was a friend of yours,” Nerissa said.

“She wasn't. But this is still a great loss to us all. Lysandra was
a skilled and passionate fighter.” Cleo forced herself to breathe deeply, to compose herself and focus on the task at hand. Lysandra had never said a kind word to Cleo, but she knew how close she'd been to Jonas. Cleo had admired Lysandra for her strength and her ability to blend in and fight as fiercely as one of the boys.

And Jonas had cared so very deeply for her.

Her heart broke for him.
Oh, Jonas.

Cleo pulled away from Nerissa's side and walked toward Jonas and Magnus.

Magnus saw her first, his expression shifting to displeasure in an instant. “What are you doing here?”

“Why wasn't I informed about this?” Cleo snapped.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “You shouldn't be here. Return to the palace immediately.”

“No.”

He hissed out a breath of annoyance. “These docks are no place for a princess.”

Ignoring the prince, she turned to Jonas. “I just heard about Lysandra.”

Jonas met her gaze. “I didn't even know how much she meant to me until moments before she . . .” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I was so blind.”

“There are no words, Jonas. I'm so very sorry.”

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. It took a moment, but he returned her embrace.

“I'm going to kill the king. Not for the prince, not even for all the Mytican citizens he's tried to own and exploit. I'm going to do it for her.”

She nodded. “I know you'll be successful.”

He pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing her gently. “I'll see you again soon, your highness.”

“You'd better mean that.”

Jonas nodded and gave her a half smile before heading for the gangplank and boarding the ship.

Cleo risked a glance at Magnus. Not for one solitary moment did she forget he was standing only a few paces away.

His arms were crossed over his chest and he studied her, his expression blank apart from the tight line of his jaw.

“What a tender farewell,” he said. “How romantic.”

Yes, of course the prince was dense enough to believe their exchange had been one of romance rather than friendship born during a time of hardship and grief.

She decided to let him believe whatever he wanted about her and the rebel.

She forgot all about Magnus when she saw someone approaching her—Nic, taking her completely by surprise.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

He regarded her with curiosity, shifting the bulky satchel he held to his other shoulder. “I was about to ask you the very same question. Have you spoken with Nerissa?”

“Yes. She hasn't told me everything, but she's told me enough.” She took hold of his coat sleeve. “I know about Lysandra. That's awful beyond words. But, Nic, you could have been killed too.”

“But I wasn't.”

“Perhaps next time,” Magnus said, interrupting them. “Cassian, go back to the palace. You're not wanted here.”

Nic glared at him. “I'm going to Kraeshia with Jonas.”

“Nic, no,” she said, her voice nothing more than a rasp. “Jonas is ready to put his life in danger by going on this trip. You might think you're ready to do the same, but I refuse to risk losing you, too.”

“I have to do this, Cleo. I need to help. What good am I to anyone if I just sit around the palace all day like a useless lump?”
His jaw tensed. “And I need to find Princess Amara. I want to get the water Kindred back, and she needs to pay for what she did to Ashur.” The grief he'd been trying so hard to keep hidden from her, from everyone, flared in his eyes. “Please understand that I need to go.”

“Would you stay with me if I asked you to?”

He let out a long, shaky breath. “Yes. Of course I would.”

She nodded, then grabbed him around his waist and held on tightly. “I know how much Ashur meant to you, so I won't ask you to stay. Go. But remember one thing: If you get yourself killed, I'm going to be furious with you.”

“I'll be furious too.” Nic snorted softly. “By the way, you should know I don't have a birthday gift for you. Our trip to Paelsia was unsuccessful in every way possible.”

She fought the urge to look at Magnus and lowered her voice. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Me too. The vendor we wanted to visit to purchase your present . . . unfortunately, she'd recently passed away.”

Cleo bit her lip. “Oh.”

“She was quite old, so we can't be overly surprised. But I really hoped she'd still be around to help us out.”

“We'll have to find someone else. She couldn't have been the only one.”

“Yes.” He squeezed her hands. “I love you, Cleo. But I think you know that already.”

“What love for the princess this morning. How absolutely delightful for you all.” Magnus crossed his arms over his black jacket. “Now, if you really are going, Cassian, then get on your way.”

“You're not going to try to stop me?” Nic asked warily.

“Why would I? You are free to go wherever you please—as you have already proven by your recent trip with the rebel. And know
that if you
do
get yourself killed,” Magnus said, offering him an unpleasant smile, “I won't be furious with you at all.”

Ignoring Magnus, Nic kissed Cleo's cheeks, gave her another squeeze, and then did the same to Nerissa. With one last, wistful look at each of them, he boarded the Limerian ship.

Cleo reached for Nerissa's hand, needing her support now more than ever before. But she wouldn't cry. This was what had to be done.

As the sun rose above the cliffs behind them, the black ship set sail across the dark sea.

AMARA

KRAESHIA

A
mara knew the perfect place to go when she wanted to be alone.

It was a courtyard off the east wing of the Emerald Spear, a garden given to her by her father so she could contribute to the beauty of the royal residence. After all, the only thing expected from Kraeshian girls was an interest in pretty flowers.

But instead of flowers, Amara had cultivated a garden of tens of thousands of rocks and shells and semiprecious stones, all gathered from around the world. Her father had proclaimed it ugly and disappointing; Amara couldn't disagree more.

Especially now, because it was here that she'd hidden the water Kindred.

And it was in this garden that she'd sit and think about her plan to control her own future without being under the thumbs of men whose goal it was to make her feel like less than a person. In her life, she'd met very few men who strayed from the Kraeshian misogyny she'd come to expect.

Felix was one of them.

He wanted nothing from her. He made no demands. She'd taken him to her bed because she liked the width of his shoulders and the crookedness of his nose and the fact that her father would never approve if he ever learned of the affair.

But then she'd begun to look forward to spending time with the Limerian, and not only at night. He amused her and challenged her with his opinions—the few that he'd openly shared with her, at least. Felix had proved himself to be far more than just the king's own personal shield. Without even trying, he had become special to her.

This had created complications for her at a time when everything needed to be simple.

Her grandmother entered the rock garden and came to sit by her side on the stone bench.

“You have many worries,
D
hosha
. I see them on your lovely face.”

“Do you blame me?”

“Not a bit. The fact that you approach your life and your decisions with thoughtfulness and care is what makes me know I've taught you well.”

“I wish all of it were easier.”

“Nothing worth having is easy,
Dhosha
,” her grandmother said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I went to see my apothecary earlier today.”

Amara stiffened. Neela spoke of a man with a great and secret talent for creating magical potions for her grandmother and, in the past, for her mother. “And?”

“He mentioned that another client from the palace paid him a visit, not so long ago.”

“Someone from the palace? Who?”

“Your brother. Ashur.”

Amara's gaze widened. “But . . . I didn't know Ashur even knew of your apothecary.”

“Nor did I.”

“What potion did he request?”

“I don't know. He only mentioned Ashur's visit in passing, when he asked after his well-being.”

“And you didn't ask any further questions? Grandmother, I need to know.”

“Why? What difference does it make now?”

“If it makes no difference to you, then why did you bother to mention it to me?”

“I see now that I shouldn't have.” Neela took Amara's hand in hers. “Quiet your thoughts,
Dhosha
. You are strong and you will do what needs to be done. You're close now. Closer than ever before.”

Amara let out a long, weary sigh, then nodded firmly. “Don't worry about me,
Madhosha
. I know what I have to do.”

• • •

“Come sit next to me, Daughter.”

The emperor rose from his chair as Amara entered the solarium, a private room he used to entertain his most important guests.

She hadn't known what to expect when he summoned her here, and she saw now that she wasn't the only one he'd called upon. She was the last to arrive. King Gaius, Felix, Milo, and her brothers were already there.

Then it became clear. She'd been invited to be present to hear the emperor declare his decision.

She'd never been invited to such an important event before.

Had she somehow proven her worth to her father? That her political opinion mattered? He would do well to take her under his wing as an advisor; she would be far more helpful than both Elan and Dastan combined.

“Princess,” King Gaius said, standing as she took a seat. “You look beautiful today.”

“Thank you, your grace.” Why did men always find it necessary to comment on whether or not a woman's exterior pleased them? She knew she was beautiful. No need to constantly restate it, as if doing so would earn one points in a game.

The king did look confident today. Did he honestly believe her father was about to agree to his overly ambitious terms?

Felix and Milo stood behind the king, their hands clasped behind their backs. Felix nodded at her, and their eyes met for a brief moment. He, on the other hand, did not look entirely confident today. Was that a shadow of worry sliding behind his dark eyes?

My pretty beast,
she thought.
Don't fret. You've more than proven your worth to me.

Her attention shifted to her brothers, neither of whom had risen from their seats to greet her. They each drank from golden, jeweled goblets, and she saw that the center of the table was laden with a beautiful display of colorful, fragrant fruit.

The emperor waved his hand toward the guards stationed at the doors. “Leave us to discuss our important matters in private.” Amara watched as they left, noting that Mikah was not among them, and suddenly realizing she hadn't seen him in several days. Perhaps he was ill.

The guards closed the heavy doors with a loud thud, and Amara's heart began to race. Today was an important day.

A brand-new day that would either foretell an uncertain future for the Kraeshian Empire . . .

. . . Or a day that would mark the end of the King of Blood's life.

This was how her father conducted his political negotiations: He either agreed to obviously favorable terms, or he made an annoying problem go away by killing it and everyone involved. In the end, Emperor Cortas always won.

“I have taken time to consider your interesting offer, Gaius.” The emperor remained standing, his lined face somber and humorless. There would be no playfulness today.

King Gaius nodded. “And I'm ready to hear your decision.”

“You wish to become the second emperor of the Kraeshian Empire, to share the power, equally, with me. For this, you will give me the air Kindred and teach me how to unlock its magic. And along with that magic, I will also have your daughter's abilities of sorcery at my disposal. Do I have this correct, Gaius?”

“You do,” the king said, his tone even, almost as if he were bored.

Amara had to admire the king's confidence—or was it stupidity? After all, he was nothing but a scavenger, asking a lion to share his meat for free.

However, the king didn't strike her as stupid. Just the opposite.

He had to have another plan up his sleeve.

The emperor spoke up again. “And I am expected to take you at your word that what you've told me about your daughter, about the Kindred, is true.”

“Yes.”

“This is what troubles me, Gaius. You've shown me no proof of either.”

“And you will see no proof until we've come to an agreement. With respect, your eminence, this is the greatest opportunity of your life. You're wise, very wise, and I'm sure you must see that.” Gaius took a sip from his goblet, his gaze steady on the emperor's. “And if you discover me to be a liar, you can have me executed and take Mytica without resistance. With my blessing, in fact. Simple.”

The emperor pursed his lips. “Mytica will be mine no matter how this plays out. It will become part of the Kraeshian Empire, not remain a sovereign kingdom.”

The king blinked. “Very well.”

“And I want another Kindred. If we are to share power equally, it's only fair that I possess more than just the moonstone orb.”

A thin smiled stretched across the king's lips. “You ask a great deal, but I will agree to that as well.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence, and all Amara could hear was the sound of her heart drumming wildly against her chest.

“Fetch the document,” the emperor instructed Dastan.

Dastan got up from the table and returned quickly with a scroll, which he placed in front of the king.

“I was hoping you'd agree to my requests,” the emperor said. “So here is the official agreement. You'll want to note the caveat there, at the bottom. Essentially, it states that you consent to being killed if you lie to me now or in the future.”

The king scanned the parchment, his expression revealing nothing.

Finally, he looked up. “I will need something to sign this with.”

The emperor smiled. “I won't make you sign in your own blood, although I did consider it.” He motioned to Elan, who brought over a quill and ink.

The king took the quill in hand and signed the bottom of the parchment below the emperor's signature.

Men never failed to amuse Amara. Did these two truly think a mere piece of paper equaled a binding agreement?

King Gaius handed the signed parchment back to the emperor, whose lips lifted up to a self-satisfied grin.

“Much gratitude, King Gaius. Now. There is one more matter that may prove troublesome,” the emperor said.

King Gaius leaned back in his seat, his jaw tightening. “Is there?”

“In Kraeshia, power is passed down through the bloodline. This,” he waved at the parchment, “is a legal document between you and me only. Any future rulers of my empire will belong to the Cortas family.”

“That is a problem,” the king said. “And quite frankly, I'm confused. You agreed to my terms, and I feel I've been extremely generous and patient with you. And now you're trying to tell me that my family's stake in this empire ends when I die?”

Amara would have had to be deaf not to hear the dark threats behind his words.

This was getting interesting.

The emperor nodded at Dastan again. “Send for the palace augur.”

Amara frowned. The palace augur was a religious official who conducted Kraeshian rituals and ceremonies exclusively for the emperor.

“Are you bringing him here to have me swear a religious oath?” the king said evenly. “Your eminence, forgive me, but what does this have to do with discussing my bloodline?”

“This is not that kind of oath,” the emperor said. “This will ease your mind greatly when it comes to the future.”

“My blood is Damora blood—not even magic can change that. It seems we have a problem, your eminence.”

“Not a problem that can't be fixed,” the emperor said. “You will marry my daughter. Today.”

Surely, Amara had heard him wrong.

She grappled to hold on to her composure, to not suddenly flee from the room. So this was why her father had wanted her here, and it had nothing to do with respect.

He wanted to use her as a bargaining chip.

She felt Felix's gaze on her, and chanced a glance at him. He studied her with a deep frown.

“This union,” the emperor continued, “will symbolize the joining of our families and the sharing of power between you and me. Is this agreeable to you, Gaius? I know you've recently lost your queen and must be ready for a new one.”

The king appeared to consider this turn of events calmly. “Yes, my beloved Althea,” he said. “I have missed the company of a wife so very much. But with respect, your eminence, I would never wish to force such an arrangement upon anyone, least of all your lovely daughter.”

“Perhaps that is where you and I differ.”

“Perhaps,” the king acknowledged with a nod. “But I could only agree to this if Princess Amara does as well.”

All attention shifted to the princess.

She'd refused every other suitor her father had thrust her way, and the emperor had never forced her hand before. But that was then, when she was of so very little importance to him.

She'd be incredibly naive to think she had a choice here. And Amara was anything but naive. To make a fuss would only cause unnecessary conflict.

Today, of all days, she wanted her father to be pleased with her.

“It would be my honor to become your queen, King Gaius,” she said, ignoring the tightness in her chest.

The king raised his brow. She'd surprised him.

Dastan returned, accompanied by an old man with white hair and dressed in green robes.

“Excellent,” the emperor said. “Augur, please, let's not waste another moment in making this official.”

The augur produced a long silk scarf that had been in Amara's family for countless generations, and gestured for Amara to come
stand before the king. Holding to Kraeshian tradition, he wound the scarf around her and the king, from ankle to shoulders, finally binding their hands together.

Amara looked up into the king's eyes. He looked so very much like his son, Magnus. She hadn't fully realized it until now.

As was custom, the wedding ceremony was performed in the Kraeshian language, with the augur repeating the vows in the common language so the king could understand.

The augur spoke solemnly about the duties of husband and wife. He stated that the wife would always be truthful to her husband. She would give him her power. She would give him children. She would serve him.

If she displeased him, it was within his rights to beat her.

The king's fingers tightened against hers as the words sliced into her very being, as if cutting her throat.

If he ever dared lay a hand on her in anger, she would kill him.

The ceremony was over, and they were proclaimed husband and wife. The augur unwound the scarf, and the king drew Amara to him and kissed her when instructed, to seal their union symbolically. Despite all her inner strife and the heart-sinking knowledge that she'd just married someone old enough to be her father, the kiss was not entirely unpleasant.