Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)(14)
“The elders make their home in this tower. Timotheus hasn’t left it since Alexius exiled himself to the mortal world. Many believe he’s been in mourning.”
Now Lucia’s teeth sank into her tongue so deeply she nearly drew blood.
“How many elders live here?” she asked. She realized that learning about this new place was helping to ease her mind and keep her from spiraling back into thoughts of the past.
“There were six originally.”
“And now?”
“This is one of the questions we have for Timotheus.” Mia’s expression turned grave. “And he must have answers today.”
“Or what? What happens if Timotheus doesn’t come out today with the right answers? What if this crowd he’s gathered is not pleased?”
Mia glanced around at the others surrounding the base of the crystal tower, taking up only a fraction of the space available in the square. “Many feel that the time of elders has passed. At their command, we’ve searched for the Kindred, and to many it has been nothing but a fool’s errand, meant to distract us from the truth.”
“What truth?”
Mia shook her head, her expression tightening. “The fact that you’re here gives me hope that they’re wrong.”
Lucia was about to ask more questions, to get to Mia’s hidden meaning, but before she could, there came a rustle in the crowd and a rise of angry shouting voices.
She looked up from the depths of her cowl. Her breath caught in her chest as the smooth surface of the crystal tower flickered and filled with light. Then the clear image of Timotheus appeared on this bright surface, his face the height of three men.
Her mouth fell open at the sight of this unexpected magical projection.
The image of Timotheus raised his hands, his expression grim as the crowd of Watchers, including Mia, began to chant a handful of words that Lucia couldn’t understand, in a language she’d never heard before today. The sound of it made the chill she’d felt at the gates return to her, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and tried not to shiver.
Timotheus waited until the chanting ended and a hush fell over the group.
“You asked to see me,” Timotheus said, his voice loud and his tone confident. “Here I am. I know you have questions. That you have worries. I hope to ease your minds.”
The crowd had fallen silent after the chanting, so silent that the city felt as still and empty as it had when she’d first entered it.
“You wish to know more about the current whereabouts of missing elders and immortals. You wish to know why I have rendered the gateway to the mortal world unusable so that you’re unable to leave our home even in hawk form. You wish to know why I haven’t emerged from this tower in recent days.”
Lucia watched Mia’s face and the faces of the other immortals, their gazes transfixed on the gigantic shining image of Timotheus as if he were an omnipotent god who’d rendered them all into silent, immobile marble statues.
She’d never thought to ask Alexius how an elder’s magic differed from other immortals. But now she saw that elders like Timotheus had complete command over others of their kind. The audience was under his spell—everyone was completely still as he spoke.
Yet he had no control over the defiance that still shone in their eyes.
Timotheus’s image didn’t flicker like a candle. It remained solid and bright. And Lucia was reminded again that he resembled Alexius so much that the two, if mortal, could have been mistaken as brothers by blood.
“Danaus and Stephanos. Melenia. Phaedra, Alexius, and Olivia. All missing from our already dwindling numbers. You fear that I have masterminded every one of these recent disappearances, but you’re wrong. You believe we should be searching for our missing people in the mortal world, yet I won’t let you leave.
“What I’m doing,” Timotheus continued, “what I have done . . . is because a great danger has risen in the mortal world, a danger that affects everything we’ve worked so hard and so long to protect. With so few of us left, I’ve done only what I must to protect you all. And I only ask for your trust for a little while longer, before all will be revealed.”
His words didn’t help tame the fierce looks in the eyes of the immortals. Lucia wasn’t surprised by that. She’d heard hundreds of speeches by her father over the years. He was a true master at public speaking even when presented with an audience who despised him.
King Gaius knew when to lie, when to give false hope, and when to make promises of gold when, more often than not, such promises ultimately meant nothing.
Still, such speeches given at key times were more than enough to prevent riots. More than enough to keep Limerians in check and rebel numbers low.
People clung to the possibility of hope.
Timotheus did not speak of hope. He told the truth but gave no details, making him sound like more of a liar trying to conceal his misdeeds than the King of Blood ever had.
And, it seemed, he wasn’t finished yet.
“You’ve all seen for yourselves that our world is dying. The leaves are turning brown and dry, more and more every day. Despite the prophesies of Eva’s magic returning to us, you’ve begun to believe this is a sign of the end. But you’re wrong. The sorceress has been reborn. And right now, this very moment, she stands among you.”
A gasp caught in Lucia’s throat as the large projected eyes of Timotheus seemed to look directly at her.