Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)(86)

“The Kindred have been awakened,” Dariah said, her voice filled with awe. “Is it true?”

“It is,” Selia said, smiling sweetly. “Xanthus, you’ve been exiled how many years?”

He looked at Dariah, who nodded. “Selia is a trusted friend,” she said.

“Very well. I left the Sanctuary twenty years ago.”

“Incredible,” Selia said, shaking her head. “All exiles I’ve ever heard of had their magic fade to a mere trace in a quarter of that time. Yet yours remained so powerful that you were able to bless the Imperial Road with it.”

He nodded. “Melenia ensured that my magic would not drain away over the years, nor would I be at risk of death as a mortal. That promise was put to the test not so long ago, when a dagger found my heart.”

The barmaid brought their drinks, and Magnus was dismayed to see that his was a mug of ale. He pushed it away from him.

“Not to your liking?” Selia asked. “Oh, that’s right. You prefer Paelsian wine.”

Magnus eyed her. “How do you know that?”

“Because you return to the inn smelling of it every evening.” She followed this harshness with a charming smile. “Gaius had a great thirst for wine in his youth, despite all the laws against it. His father was constantly furious at him for disrespecting the goddess. Paelsian, Auranian, Terrean, Kraeshian . . . whatever he could get his hands on. I’ve never tried it myself. Never wanted to. I prefer to keep my mind clear and sharp.”

Even with that said, Selia called a girl over and ordered two bottles of their best vintage. Magnus didn’t try to stop her, and when they arrived, he uncorked both bottles himself and drank deeply from one of them labeled “Agallon Vineyards.”

There truly was no escape from the rebel.

Selia raised a brow when he quickly drained the first bottle. “Wine won’t ever make your problems disappear. It will only magnify them.”

“Excellent advice from someone who’s never tasted a drop.” He sighed. “I grow weary of this horrible day. How long must we remain here tonight?”

“Not much longer.”

“Good.”

“Dariah,” Selia leaned over the table. “The time has come.”

“I understand.” Dariah nodded, her cheeks flushed. “Do what you must.”

Selia glanced at the exiled immortal. “I need your ring, Xanthus.”

“Do you? I’m afraid it’s not for sale,” Xanthus said smoothly, looking down at the thick piece of jewelry on his right hand, “but I’m happy to give you the name of the artisan who created it for me.”

“Dariah, you should know that I’ve been preparing for tonight since you left. Each day has felt like a year as I’ve watched my beloved son fade away before my eyes. You know I’d do anything for him. Drop your hold on your vanity for a moment and see if you can feel my restored magic tonight.”

Magnus watched his grandmother, not certain what she meant. Had she not told them that she required the bloodstone to restore her magic?

Dariah’s false beauty shifted and shimmered as she frowned. “Yes, I can feel the blood magic. Selia, how many have you killed to achieve this?”

“Enough. This city is full of men who’ll never be missed. I like it here.”

“What?” Magnus said, shocked by this admission. “When have you done this? You’ve been by my father’s side nearly every moment since we’ve arrived.”

“Every night after you all retire to your rooms.” Selia turned her patient smile toward him. “I need very little sleep, my sweet. And neither, it appears, does this city.”

“You don’t think I’ll try to stop you?” Dariah’s voice trembled.

Stop her? Magnus shifted his attention to the other witch, his confusion only growing.

“You can try.” Selia raised her chin, her lips thinning, her grip on Dariah’s hand tightening. “But you’ll fail.”

Dariah gasped, her free hand flying to her throat. “But . . . I . . . thought—”

Without another word, the woman’s beauty fell away like a mask, her older, wrinkled face revealed beneath her magic, and she slumped down to the tabletop.

Magnus regarded this with shock.

“You killed her,” Xanthus said, his voice low and dangerous.

“And you didn’t try to stop me.”

His eyes met hers. “Your magic is stronger than any witch’s I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Witches who are willing to do what is necessary can have nearly the same magic as a sorceress. For a short time, anyway.” Her gaze returned to his hand. “Now, about your ring.”

His gaze hardened. “My ring is not—”

Selia brought her dagger down hard and fast, and Xanthus’s index finger skittered across the table, leaving a bloody trail behind.

Xanthus roared in pain and lunged for Selia. “I’ll kill you!”

Fire lit him up a moment later, covering him in an instant. He tried to bat at it, to put it out, but it was too fast and ferocious.

“Come with me,” Selia told Magnus as she snatched the ring off the severed finger and slipped it into her pocket.

Magnus turned away from the screaming man on fire and rushed to follow his grandmother out of the tavern, leaving the other drunk patrons in confused chaos.