Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)(83)

“She’s Lucia Damora,” he answered honestly, since he owed Felicia that much.

Felicia’s eyes widened with shock. “What are you thinking bringing that evil witch in here? She is not welcome in my home. Are you aware of what she’s responsible for? A village not ten miles from here was burned to the ground, everyone in it killed, because of her. She deserves to die for what she’s done.”

Each word felt like a blow, and he couldn’t argue with any of them. “Perhaps she does, but right now her magic is needed to save Mytica. To save the world. You wouldn’t let an innocent child suffer because of the choices of its mother, would you?”

She laughed then, drily. “Listen to you, defending a royal princess—from Limeros, no less. Who are you, Jonas? Who has my brother become?”

“Amara can’t be allowed to control Mytica,” he reasoned. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stop her.”

“You are blind as well as dumb, brother. The empress is the only one who can save us all. Or have you forgotten the past so easily now that your head has been turned by that piece of evil dung currently sleeping on my bed?”

“My head has not been turned by anyone,” he growled. “But I know what’s right.”

“Then you need to wake up. The empress is the best thing that’s happened to Paelsia in generations.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong,” she said, her fiery anger finally dissipating as weariness set into her voice. “But I can’t be bothered to convince you of something I know is right. You’re lost to us, Jonas. I can see it in your eyes. You’re not the same boy who grew up wishing to be like Tomas, who went with him to poach on the border of Auranos, who chased after all the girls in the village. I don’t know who you are anymore.”

His heart ached at the thought of how much he’d disappointed her. “Don’t say that, Felicia.”

She turned away from him. “I’ll let you and that creature stay for the night. That is all. If she dies of this pain she has, then let her die. The world will be better off without her in it.”

Jonas reclined on the dirt floor, next to the fire, his mind in turmoil.

When he’d come here, he’d at least had a sense of direction, of purpose. He needed to get Lucia to her family.

The Damoras. The King of Blood who had oppressed his people. Who’d murdered Chief Basilius. Who’d lied to two armies about his reasons for starting a short-lived war with Auranos.

Felicia was right. Amara Cortas had ended all of that with this occupation.

How had he found himself on this path? He was a rebel, not the simpering assistant to a sadistic king.

It took a long time before he fell asleep. In a dream, he found himself in a lush green meadow under a bright blue sky. In the distance, a city that looked to be made from crystal sparkled in the sun.

“Jonas Agallon, we finally meet. Olivia has told me so much about you. I am Timotheus.”

He turned to be greeted by the sight of a man who appeared to be only a handful of years older than him. His hair was the color of dark bronze, his eyes a pale copper. He wore white robes that fell all the way to the emerald-green grass.

“You’re in my dream,” Jonas said slowly.

Timotheus raised a brow. “A brilliant deduction. Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

“I expected you’d be full of questions for me.”

Of all the sensations he felt at being face to face with the immortal Olivia had told him little about, he felt no shock, no surprise, only weariness. “Questions that you’ll answer?”

“Some, perhaps. Others, perhaps not.”

“No, it’s all right. Just let me sleep. I’m tired, and I can’t be bothered with solving riddles.”

“Time is running out. The storm is nearly upon us.”

“Do you talk like this to everyone, so annoyingly vague?”

Timotheus cocked his head. “Actually, yes. Yes, I do.”

“I don’t like it. And I don’t like you. Whatever this is,” Jonas patted the mark on his chest, “I want it gone. I want nothing to do with your kind. I’m Paelsian. I’m not a Watcher, or a witch, or whatever you think this makes me.”

“That mark makes you very special.”

“I don’t want to be special.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I always have a choice.”

“Your destiny is set.”

“Kiss my arse.”

Timotheus blinked. “Olivia did mention that you’re rather single-minded in your observations. However, I’m sure you’ve noticed that you now possess a sliver of magic. Phaedra’s magic. Olivia’s magic. You absorbed these like a sponge absorbs water. What you are is rare and, I’ll say it again, special. The visions I’ve had of you are important.”

“Right. The visions. The prophecy of me delivering Lucia Damora to her family.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Seems like that’s where this destiny of mine is taking me.”

“No, not exactly. You will know when it happens. You will feel—”

“What I feel right now is the need to put a knife in your gut.” Jonas glared at the immortal. “You dare enter my dream now, after all this time? Olivia’s helped to keep me alive, just like you told her to. I guess she’s done with me now. Or maybe she’s spying on me from above as a hawk, just like you all do. All I know for sure is that I’m through with this. I don’t care what you have to say. You dangle half truths as if the lives of mortals are a game.”