Immortal Reign(59)

Lucia wanted to stand up, to shake Mia and have her tell her more, to try to use her magic to extract every last bit of truth from her lips.

None of this made any sense.

Mia was an immortal who lived in the Sanctuary with the handful of other immortals still in existence. Timotheus had recently chosen not to let any of them leave through their stone gateway into this world, not even in hawk form, for fear that Kyan would kill them.

How did this happen? And who was the dark-haired woman who’d cut Mia’s arm?

“Yes, soup would be lovely,” Lucia said instead. “Much gratitude.”

Mia nodded and moved off toward the kitchen.

Lucia fell silent, lost in thought about what could have happened to Mia. Had it happened to anyone else?

“Trouble?” Jonas asked her.

“I think so, but I don’t know what it means yet.”

He watched her, his close scrutiny distracting her from her thoughts. “Your brother wants you to come home. He’s worried about you.”

“I’m sure he is.” Lucia hated the thought that her decisions were causing Magnus even more pain. “But I’m not going back yet. I need to talk to Timotheus. I can’t believe he’s abandoned me now, at my greatest time of need. He wants the Kindred imprisoned as much as I do. Yet I haven’t had a single dream in ages, and I have so many questions for him.”

“He says his magic is fading,” Jonas said. “That he can’t use it all up to visit the dreams of mortals.”

It took a moment for Lucia to register what he’d just said.

Her eyes went wide. “How do you know that?”

Jonas stiffened. “What?”

“What you just said—that Timotheus’s magic is fading. When did you learn this?”

“He . . . visited my dream when we were at the compound.”

“Your dream?” A mix of anger and annoyance flashed through her. “Why did he visit your dream and not mine?”

“Trust me, princess, I would have preferred he visited yours. He is a very difficult man. Everything he says is like a new riddle to decipher. He . . . wanted me to continue to watch over you, to keep you safe. And Lyssa too. He knew about her and that you survived her birth. He said he . . . trusts me.”

Lucia couldn’t let herself be distracted by Timotheus’s choices. She’d always had a difficult time with the immortal; their relationship had been fraught with tension and distrust from the very beginning.

Finally, she nodded. “He’s right to trust you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re the most trustworthy person I’ve ever known,” she said with complete sincerity. “Even my father and brother have lied to and manipulated me, but you never have. And I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know.”

Jonas just watched her now, silently, his expression pained.

Perhaps he didn’t feel comfortable with her compliment. But that didn’t make it any less heartfelt.

“You’re coming with me,” Lucia said after silence fell between them.

“I am?” Jonas raised a brow. “Where?”

She nodded out the window. “Into the Forbidden Mountains. We’ll leave at dawn.”

Jonas looked toward the jagged black mountains in the near distance. “What’s in the mountains?”

“The gateway to the Sanctuary.” At his look of shock, Lucia gave him the edge of a smile. “You followed me all this way. Are you really going to stop now?”





CHAPTER 20


    MAGNUS


   AURANOS




A week had passed since his father’s murder.

The city had not gone into deep mourning for their lost king. In fact, they were currently in the midst of a celebration. Auranians always seemed to be celebrating something.

The last festival had been called the Day of Flames, and citizens wore red, orange, and yellow to represent the goddess Cleiona’s fire magic. This festival was in celebration of her air magic, and it allegedly lasted for half a month.

Half of an entire month dedicated to a festival called the “Breath of Cleiona.”

Ridiculous, Magnus thought.

Cleo had explained to him that citizens of Auranos far and wide would come to the palace city during this time of celebration to read their poetry and to sing songs in praise of the goddess. The breath they used to speak and sing was their tribute to Cleiona’s air magic.

But really, she’d explained, it was simply an excuse for drinking great amounts of wine and boisterous social interaction that lasted until the wee hours of morning.

While such celebrations carried on in the city beyond the palace walls, Magnus stood in the royal cemetery, looking down at the patch of dirt that marked the king’s temporary grave. The king’s remains would eventually be returned to Limeros and buried next to Magnus’s mother. Until then, Magnus had had him placed into the earth by nightfall of the day of his death, true to Limerian tradition.

How odd that he now felt some strange sense of solace from leaning on the same traditions he’d all but ignored his entire life.

A small black granite marker lay upon the bare soil, chiseled with the Limerian crest of entwined snakes.

He’d dreamed about his father just last night.