Immortal Reign(62)
“Then why?”
“Because I feel personally responsible that his life has been torn away from him. Had I not been complicit in Amara’s original plans, he might be free of this tangled mess.”
“Doubtful,” Magnus replied. “He’s Cleo’s best friend. He would have been a part of this even if you’d never stepped foot in Mytica. Don’t think yourself that important.”
He knew it came out cruel and near hateful, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Nicolo was in love with Cleo once,” Ashur said. “Perhaps he still is. His romantic preferences are not the same as mine. There may never be a future for us. But that doesn’t matter to me. I’m not doing any of this for my own gain. I’m doing it because I want Nicolo to live exactly the life he desires, whether I’m a part of it or not.”
Magnus studied him for a long moment, his nose throbbing. “All right, so prove it.”
“How?”
“I can’t continue to wait for Lucia to return. That witch—or exiled Watcher you spoke of before . . .”
“Valia,” Ashur said the name under his breath like a curse.
“You know of someone like that?” Taran said, stunned. “Someone who might be able to help us?”
Magnus nodded. “Let’s go find her.”
Magnus, Ashur, and Taran rode to the village of Viridy immediately, reaching it just before nightfall. Lit by lanterns and the light of the moon, its cobblestone streets sparkled, leading their way toward the Silver Toad.
The tavern was packed from wall to wall with patrons celebrating the festival. A band played noisily in the corner while a woman, a goblet clenched in her fist, announced that she was about to sing a song she’d written for the goddess, titled “Her Goldenness.”
Magnus quickly wished for cotton to stuff in his ears when she began screeching drunkenly at the top of her lungs.
“Reminds me of my childhood,” Taran said with a grimace. “It’s one of the many reasons I left to join the revolution in Kraeshia.”
Magnus spotted Bruno and beckoned the old man over to their table.
“Everyone!” Bruno waved his arms. “Look who we have here tonight! Prince Magnus and Prince Ashur and their . . . friend. I don’t know who he is. Let’s raise a glass to toast to their good health, shall we?”
“If we didn’t need him, I’d kill him,” Magnus said under his breath as everyone in the tavern clinked their drinks together in a drunken, if friendly, toast.
“He’s certainly enthusiastic,” Ashur replied.
“My father would cut the tongues from those half as enthusiastic as he is if it annoyed him enough,” he said.
“I have no doubt about that.”
“So much for remaining as incognito as possible.” Magnus scanned the area, worried that there might be Kraeshian guards in attendance, but saw no one in their green uniforms.
“I’m Taran, by the way,” Taran said to Bruno.
Bruno clasped Taran’s outstretched hand and shook it. “A pleasure, young man. An absolute pleasure. Welcome to the Silver Toad.”
The band started up again, drowning out their conversation, and the patrons’ attention shifted back to the next volunteer, a man who’d composed a poem in honor of the goddess’s beauty.
“What would you all like to drink?” Bruno asked. “The first round is in honor of your father, Prince Magnus.” He spit to the side. “I didn’t have an ounce of respect for him, but it is a horrible thing that happened to him all the same.”
“Your heartfelt condolences are appreciated,” Magnus said drily.
“We’re not here to drink,” Ashur said. “We’re here about Valia.”
Bruno frowned. “On such a night as this?”
“Yes. We need your assistance in the summoning ritual, unless you think she will not respond tonight. Perhaps she’s celebrating somewhere else, somewhere unreachable.”
“Oh, not a worry—I’ve never known Valia to celebrate anything.” Bruno took off his apron and flung it onto a nearby table. “Very well, let’s go out back. I am honored to assist in such an exciting prospect.”
After disappearing into another part of the tavern for a few moments, Bruno returned with a lantern to light their way and a rolled piece of parchment tucked under his arm. Magnus and the others followed him outside into the cool evening air.
“What is that?” Magnus asked, nodding at the parchment.
“The instructions, your highness.” Bruno shrugged. “My mind has a difficult time remembering such things at my age, so I make sure to write everything down.”
Magnus shared a bemused look with Ashur.
“I do hope this isn’t a waste of our time,” Ashur said under his breath.
“Indeed.” Magnus cast a glance over his shoulder at Taran to see that the white lines, now showing on his exposed hand and throat, glowed softly in the darkness. This sight sent a shiver of overwhelming dread through him. “I don’t think we have much time left to waste,” he added.
Magnus had left Cleo asleep at the palace without saying a word about where he was going. If he returned with good news, that was one thing. If this ended in nothing but disappointment, she didn’t have to know.