Falling Kingdoms (Falling Kingdoms, #1)(64)

“She’s innocent in all of this.”

“Or perhaps waiting under the surface is something harder and less breakable, just like I sensed with you.” Sabina turned a smile on Lucia, one that made a chill run down her spine. “If you don’t wish to experience my personal tutoring, Magnus, maybe she would. Less fun than the sessions I had planned for you, of course, but still very necessary.”

“Magnus?” Lucia asked, frowning. His face was as tense as she’d ever seen it.

“You should go,” he said.

“Why?” Sabina asked. “This is an excellent opportunity for the three of us to get to know each other better. Lucia, dear, how are you?”

Lucia tightened her lips. She didn’t trust this woman. “Fine, thank you.”

“Really? You haven’t been feeling strangely lately?”

Lucia watched her warily. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Magnus told me how powerful your magic is.”

It was as if she’d just been punched in the stomach. It took effort not to stagger back from the blow. “What?”

“I said no such thing,” Magnus snarled.

“Perhaps not.” Sabina gave each of them a thin smile. “But now I know everything I needed to know. It’s true. Your powers have awakened.”

Cold fear washed over Lucia that this woman knew anything about her. This was the continuation of their last confusing conversation in the halls about dangerous secrets. Sabina knew.

“Don’t be worried,” Magnus said calmly. The anger had left his voice and expression, but it still burned in his eyes. “Your secret is safe with Sabina. For I know a secret about her—she’s a witch.”

Lucia’s mouth dropped open at this revelation.

“Now that we have all of this out in the open,” Sabina said, gazing at her curiously, “perhaps you can tell me what you’re able to do.”

It took a moment for her to find her voice. She raised her chin and looked directly in the older woman’s eyes. “Not much at all.”

A look of frustration crossed Sabina’s face. “Can you be more specific?”

“No, she can’t.” Magnus came to stand next to Lucia and put his arm around her shoulders. His proximity comforted her immediately. “It’s late. This is not a discussion we should be having right now.”

“Is that why you came to Magnus’s room?” Lucia demanded. “To question him about me?”

“That was one of the reasons,” Sabina said with a twisting smile. “Shall I tell you about the others?”

Magnus shot the woman a dark look. What secrets did he have that he’d chosen to tell Sabina, but not her?

“Do you know how powerful you are, Lucia?” Sabina asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Your father would be unhappy if I told you everything without him being here. Believe me, I’ve already revealed enough to ensure his anger. But know this...it was foretold. Your birth was foretold. Your ability to access elementia as no one has in a thousand years was foretold. You’re not a witch, Lucia, darling. You’re a sorceress.”

Her anxiety swelled to a fever pitch. “You’re wrong. I might be able to do a little bit of magic, but it’s nothing that vast.”

“Perhaps you’ve only dabbled up until now, but if it’s already begun to awaken, that means it’s yours—a pool of magic waiting for you to fully plunge into. All four elements for you to wield at will.”

“You could still be wrong,” Magnus said firmly.

“I’m not wrong!” This was shouted, as if Sabina had been on the very edge of her temper and had finally stepped beyond. “I’m right, as I’ve been from the very beginning. I would never have sacrificed all I have if I’d any doubt. I know if you reach into your abilities as deeply as you can, you will awaken the rest of it.”

Lucia felt an overwhelming urge to flee this room and this woman—this witch—who’d always intimidated and frightened her. She looked to Magnus, but he didn’t say a word. His brow was furrowed.

“Magnus, are you all right?” she asked again. His expression wasn’t impassive as it usually was but tormented.

“I didn’t want this,” he said. “Any of it. I wanted you to be safe.”

“Oh, Magnus,” Sabina drawled. “Stop playing at being a saint to your little sister. It doesn’t fool me. You’re just like your father, but you keep denying it.”

He turned his fierce gaze on her. “I’m nothing like my father. I hate him and everything he stands for.”

“Hate is a strong emotion. Much more powerful than indifference. But those who burn with hate can also love just as intensely. Can’t they?” She smiled at him, as if they shared a private joke about this. “When you hate—or love—do you do so with all your heart? So much that it feels as if you might die from it?”

“Shut up,” he growled.

“I gave you a chance, but you didn’t take it. I could have helped you in so many ways.”

“You help no one but yourself. It’s always been that way. I can’t believe I never guessed that underneath it all you were an evil witch who should be burned at the stake like the others my father put to death.”