Immortal Reign (Falling Kingdoms #6)(102)
“I can’t speak for the others, but I can speak for myself,” Cleo said firmly. “Do whatever you have to do, Lucia. I’m not afraid to die today.”
Lucia nodded once. “I’ll try.”
The two continued through the palace. Similar to the vines outside, the walls of the corridors were coated in moss. Flowers grew from cracks in the marble.
Small fires burned, not in lanterns and torches set into the wall, like usual, but in shallow pits carved into the floor.
They passed a room, the door wide open, where a dozen guards clutched their throats, gasping for air.
“Taran,” Lucia said. “He too enjoys using his magic wherever possible.”
Cleo’s stomach lurched. “The real Taran would be mortified.”
“I have no doubt.”
Finally, they reached the throne room.
Cleo couldn’t believe it’d only been a day since she’d been here last.
It looked completely different. The high ceilings were covered in a canopy of vines and moss. The marble floor was now that of a forest floor; dirt and rocks and small plants poked through the surface. Several man-sized tornadoes spiraled and danced around the room, threatening to knock Cleo off-balance if she came too close to them.
Air magic, she thought. The air Kindred was playing with his magic to create yet more obstacles.
She looked ahead to see that the aisle that led to the dais was lined with blue fire, courtesy of the fire Kindred himself.
Kyan sat upon the vine-covered throne with Taran at his right and Olivia at his left.
Cleo’s fury peaked when she saw that he’d found her father’s golden crown and placed it upon his head, just as King Gaius had done when he’d taken over.
“And here she is,” Kyan said without rising. “I was worried about you, little queen, running away like that with no warning. Rather rude, really. And all I’d wanted to do was help you.”
“I guess I am rude. My deepest apologies for offending you.”
“Ah, you say that, but I know you don’t mean it. What do you think, Taran? You know, this little queen was quite enamored with your vessel’s twin brother. I think she would have married him, despite his low social ranking as a mere palace guard.”
“I’m surprised,” Taran replied. “My memories of Theon show that he much preferred tall brunettes, not short blondes.”
“But she is a princess. That excuses a myriad of shortcomings.” Kyan grinned. “Shortcomings, because she’s short. I am very funny, but so was Nic—right, little queen? He always made you laugh.”
Again, a sheet of ice formed beneath her feet, triggered by her rising fury.
“How sweet,” Olivia said. “She’s trying to access the water magic inside of her.”
“Oh, yes,” Kyan said, clapping his hands and laughing. “Let’s see you try. Go on, little queen, we’re watching.”
And she did. Cleo tried so hard to harness the magic within her. To freeze the room solid like she’d frozen the guard. To make the three monsters on the dais choke and sputter on a magical lungful of water, like she’d done to Amara the night of the first ritual.
Cleo thought that perhaps, with this ring on her finger, she might have a chance to control this, to end it.
But she couldn’t. This magic wasn’t hers to yield—not in any way she could control.
The sound within her of the water Kindred’s laugh only made her angrier and more frightened than she already was.
“Now,” Kyan said after he sobered. “Little sorceress, shall we begin?”
Lucia stepped forward. “I don’t have the aquamarine orb.”
“She keeps it in a velvet pouch in her pocket,” Taran said.
Kyan glared at him. “And you only mention that now?”
He shrugged. “My memories are improving. Yesterday was a bit of a blur, to be honest. This vessel fought hard to retain control.”
“But he lost,” Olivia said. “Just as the princess will.”
Cleo clasped her hands in front of her, keeping the ring covered from view. “Will I? Are you sure about that?”
Olivia smiled thinly. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“Give us the orb,” Kyan said. “It must now join the others.”
He gestured to a long table to their left. It was adorned with a blue velvet cloth—the backdrop for three crystal orbs.
Cleo turned a glare toward Lucia.
Lucia shrugged. “He asked. I delivered.”
Cleo shook her head. “I will give you the orb, Kyan, but I demand to see Lyssa first.”
“Ah, yes. Lyssa,” Kyan said evenly. “The sweet little missing baby that I kidnapped from her sweet little nursery, leaving the sweet little nursemaid in ashes. That was . . . so unkind of me, wasn’t it?”
Cleo watched him carefully. Every gesture, every look.
“Incredibly so,” Olivia agreed.
“But an excellent way to ensure the sorceress’s commitment to the cause,” Taran said. “You were very smart to think of it, Kyan.”
“Indeed, I was.”
There was something off about their delivery of this, as if they were mocking her.
“You don’t have her,” Cleo guessed. “Do you?”