Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(107)

Lucia, however, was covered in blood. Out of his mind with panic, Magnus carried her to the medics. By the time he’d arrived, her cuts and abrasions had miraculously—or magically—faded away completely. But she remained unconscious.

The medics, baffled, told him that she needed rest and that she would wake eventually. While he waited, he’d prayed to the goddess Valoria to bring Lucia back. His sister believed in the goddess with all her heart. He didn’t, but he was willing to give it a try.

Two hundred people—from all three kingdoms—had been killed in the explosion. But Lucia lived. And for that Magnus was grateful.

Over twelve hours now and he’d heard nothing new about her. It was dinnertime and the king and the chief clinked their glasses, laughing over their victory and toasting to the bright future. Magnus sat with them at the table, his food untouched.

“Oh, my son,” the king said, smiling. “Always so serious, even now.”

“I’m worried about Lucia.”

“My darling secret weapon.” The king beamed. “Every bit as powerful as I always hoped she’d be. Impressive, yes?”

“Very,” the chief agreed, downing his fourth glass of wine. “And a beautiful girl. If I had sons, I think we could make a fine match between our lands.”

“Indeed.”

“Speaking of . . . ” The chief glanced at Magnus. “I do have a daughter who is yet unspoken for. She’s only twelve, but she would make an excellent wife.”

Magnus tried to keep the look of disgust off his face. The thought of a bride so young made him utterly nauseous.

“You never know what the future may bring,” his father said, running his finger around the edge of his wineglass. “So I suppose we should give some thought to how to deal with the spoils of war. The coming days and weeks are going to be very interesting.”

“We must appoint representatives to ensure that everything remains equal as we discussed. Of course, I trust that Limeros will be honest in its dealings with us.”

“Of course.”

“So much here, so many riches. Gold, treasures, resources. Fresh water. Forests. Fields upon fields of crops. A land teeming with game. It’s a paradise.”

“Yes,” the king said. “And, of course, there is the matter of the Kindred.”

The chief raised a dark, bushy eyebrow. “You believe in the Kindred?”

“Don’t you?”

The chief drained his next glass. “Of course. I have searched for signs of its location through years of meditation, sending my own magic out across the miles to try to sense where it could be.”

“Have you had any luck?” the king asked.

The chief waved a hand. “I feel I am close to something.”

“I believe they’re here in Auranos,” King Gaius said evenly.

“Do you? What gives you that impression?”

“Auranos flourishes, green and lush, like the legendary Sanctuary itself, while Paelsia wastes away and Limeros turns to ice. Simple deduction, really.”

As the chief considered this, he swirled the remaining amber-colored wine around in his glass. “Others have considered the same thing. I’m not sure I necessarily believe that. I believe the carved stone wheels found in Limeros and Paelsia point to clues of its location.”

“Perhaps,” King Gaius allowed. “But to have taken this land from King Corvin is to possess everything the land contains with unrestricted access to tear it apart in my search. To find even one crystal would mean endless magic—but to possess them all...”

The chief nodded, his eyes lighting with greed. “We could become gods. Yes, this is good. We will find them together, and we will split them down the middle—fifty-fifty.”

“You like that plan?”

“I like it very much.”

“You know, your people already consider you their god. Enough to pay you blood sacrifice and enough wine tax to support your comfortable lifestyle.” King Gaius leaned back in his chair. “They believe you’re a great sorcerer descended from the Watchers themselves who will soon rise up and deliver them all from squalor.”

The chief spread his hands. “Without my people I am nothing.”

“I have known you for some time now and I have yet to see a spark of this magic.”

A glimmer of unfriendliness moved over the chief’s face. “You haven’t known me that long. Perhaps one day I will show you my true power.”

Magnus watched his father carefully. There was something strange going on here that he wasn’t quite understanding, but he knew better than to speak. When the king had asked him to be a part of this dinner meeting and celebration, he’d specifically told Magnus that he was only there to observe and to learn.

“When do we begin our search for the Kindred?” the chief asked. Both his plate and wineglass now empty.

“I intend on beginning immediately,” the king replied.

“And which two elements do you wish to possess?”

“Two? I wish to possess all four.”

The chief frowned. “All four? How is that splitting things fifty-fifty?”

“It’s not.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. And that’s just...sad, really.” A smile stretched across the king’s face.