Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)(27)

“I couldn’t agree more.”

His gloved fingers brushed against hers as Cleo took the waterskin from him. She took a long sip and handed it back. “Enzo and Milo have gone to kill the men who are following us, haven’t they?”

“They have. Does that bother you?”

“I think you may have suddenly confused me with the girl I was more than a year ago, one who would have shuddered to learn of such violence.”

He raised his brow. “And now?”

“No more shuddering. Just shivering.”

He had the urge to put his arm around her to help keep her warm, but kept his focus instead on the fire before them.

“Don’t worry, soon we’ll be back on our horses, headed for the even more frigid Reaches.” He picked up a stick and poked the small fire with it.

“How soon until we get there?”

“A day. Two at the most, as long as my father doesn’t drop off of his horse.”

“I wouldn’t mind witnessing that.”

He smiled at that visual. “Me neither.”

“What do you know of your grandmother? I know you haven’t seen her for many years, but do you remember anything that could be useful?”

He tried to think back to his childhood, which wasn’t a time he enjoyed dwelling on. “I was no more than five or six when I presumed she’d died . . . It was just after my grandfather had been buried. I can’t even remember anyone telling me that directly, but when people suddenly disappeared, I’d discovered that it usually meant they were dead. I remember a woman with black hair and a white streak right here . . .” He stroked a lock of Cleo’s hair that fell over her forehead, wishing he weren’t wearing leather gloves so he could actually touch her. “And I recall that she always wore a silver pendant of snakes twisting together.”

“Charming.”

“I actually liked it.”

“You would.” She flashed a smile, but it quickly disappeared. “Do you think your father has the air Kindred on him right now?”

The king was crouched by the river, his head lowered as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it upright. Magnus watched this frail version of the man he’d been afraid of all his life.

“Probably not. He likely hid it somewhere before he left.” He cocked his head, reconsidering her question. “Then again, he would fear someone might find it, so it’s very likely on his person.”

“So you’re saying you have no idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He snorted softly. “You have your Kindred, though.”

She held out her hand to show him the obsidian orb. “It saved our lives,” she said, gazing down at the black crystal. “We know it works—we’ve witnessed it cause two quakes. But I need more. We need more.”

“We’ll get more,” he assured her. “My father wouldn’t come all this way if he didn’t think my grandmother could be helpful. And I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think she might be a help in breaking the hateful curse on you.”

Her expression shadowed at the reminder. “We’ll see. Clearly, it’s possible to unleash the magic if Lucia is involved. She helped Kyan harness the fire Kindred’s power.”

The thought of it caused him near-physical pain. “Perhaps. But we don’t know that for sure.”

“I can’t think of another reason why he’d be capable of magic like that.”

“If so, then she could do the same for us,” he said.

“I fear you’re hopelessly optimistic when it comes to your sister.”

Magnus swallowed hard. “I fear you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

It wasn’t long before Enzo and Milo returned, nodding to the king that the deed was done.

Slowly, and with help from Milo, King Gaius got back on his horse, and they continued on.

It turned out to be three days of travel, which included frequent stops so the king could rest, taking them through small snow-covered villages and ice-encrusted cities. Amara didn’t have soldiers patrolling this far east yet, so they didn’t have to try to avoid being seen by those who might send word to the empress that King Gaius now traveled with both Magnus and Cleo at his side.

Just as Magnus was ready to demand more answers from his father—answers he was sure he wouldn’t receive—they came upon a village in the Reaches called Scalia. It looked no different from the others they’d passed through, yet Magnus felt that something had changed. His father now rode with his shoulders straight rather than slumped.

They followed the king as he took them along a row of stone cottages, each identical to the next. Smoke rose from each chimney, so thick in the frigid air that it resembled puffs of cotton.

The king slipped off his horse, then looked to Magnus. “Come with me.”

“It seems we’ve arrived,” Magnus said to Cleo.

“At long last,” she replied. Despite her dry tone, he could see the hope in her eyes.

They followed the king as he approached the door of the second cottage on the left. He paused for a moment, straightening his spine. Magnus was shocked to see such hesitation in his father. Finally, Gaius took a deep breath in, raised his fist, and pounded three times on the door’s surface.