Immortal Reign (Falling Kingdoms #6)(5)

Jonas felt his stomach drop. “You know about the child? And you’d wish to harm an innocent?”

The rebel grabbed a torch off the wall. “The innkeeper told us. It’s a demon born of a demon, not an innocent child born of a woman.”

Jonas watched with dismay as Tarus also grabbed a torch. “You think Lucia’s evil. And perhaps she was . . . for a time. Perhaps we’ve all done unforgivable things in our lives. I know I have. But you can’t help them do this.”

“You defend her even though she killed Lys.” When Jonas winced as if the name were a slap, Tarus’s expression hardened. “Yes, word travels fast.”

“The fire god killed her, not Lucia. The princess named her baby Lyssa to show her remorse for what happened to Lysandra.”

“That witch doesn’t deserve to speak that name,” Tarus spat. “Had it not been for her, Lys would still be alive. Countless Paelsians would still be alive!”

It was exactly what Kyan had claimed in Lucia’s dream, that everything was her fault.

“It’s not that simple,” Jonas said through clenched teeth.

Pained disappointment flashed across Tarus’s face. “You’re a Paelsian. You’re a rebel. You know that black-hearted witch is everything we’ve been fighting against! Why do you waste the breath to defend her?”

Tarus was right. Completely right.

Lucia’s magic had released the fire god from his crystal cage. She’d stood by him for months as he laid waste to half of Mytica, killing countless innocents. Even before that, she’d been raised by King Gaius, a monster Jonas had wanted dead more than anyone else.

Until . . .

Until what? he thought with disgust. Until you became an ally of the Damoras? Until the King of Blood himself sent you to find his daughter and return her safely to his royal side so he could harness her magic to regain his sadistic power?

Jonas didn’t know what to say, his mind in turmoil. Every choice, every decision, every thought he’d had over the last painful year had all led to this moment.

“Your place is with us, Jonas.” Tarus’s voice grew quieter again. The boy was now so close that Jonas could feel the heat from Tarus’s torch against his face. “If this fire god is real, we’ll deal with him. Let us free you from the witch’s dark spell so you can help us.”

His heart felt like a lead weight in his chest as he pulled the jeweled dagger from the leather sheath at his belt. It was the very same dagger that had killed his brother when it had been wielded by a rich and spoiled lord. Jonas could have sold it for a small fortune on many occasions, but he’d kept it as a symbol of what he fought for.

Justice. Good triumphing over evil. A world where everything made sense and lines between friend and foe were clearly drawn in the sand.

Had a world like that ever existed?

“I can’t let you kill the princess,” Jonas said firmly. “What you’re going to do is let me leave this inn, this village, with her and the baby, unharmed.”

Tarus glanced at the dagger, his brows raised. “Impossible.”

“You’d be dead if I hadn’t saved you from the executioner’s ax,” Jonas said. “You owe me this.”

“I owed you only what you asked of me: that I grow up and get strong. I did that. I’m strong now. Strong enough to do the right thing.” Tarus then addressed his men, his voice solemn but firm: “Burn the inn to the ground. If Jonas gets in your way . . .” He sighed. “Kill him too. He’s made his choice.”

The rebels didn’t wait. They moved toward the stairs with their torches in hand. Jonas shoved at one, swiping his dagger at another. In mere moments, they managed to both restrain and unarm him.

He was still weak from last night. From allowing Lucia to steal his mysterious inner magic to survive the birth of Lyssa.

One of the men dragged Jonas across the floor of the tavern, the dagger pressed to his throat as the rebels threw the torches to the wooden floor. It took only a moment for the fire to rise, catching on the dry material and coating the walls.

“Lucia!” Jonas yelled.

The rebel arched Jonas’s own jeweled dagger toward his chest to silence him forever, but the weapon froze in place just before it made contact. The rebel frowned as the dagger lurched out of his grip and hovered in the air.

Jonas looked to the stairway. The flames were rising higher, but there was a pathway cleared between them now.

Lucia approached with Lyssa in her arms, her expression full of fury.

“Did you think you could kill me with a little bit of fire?” she said, raising her right hand. “How wrong you were.”

All three rebels and Tarus flew backward, hitting the wall of the tavern hard. Their eyes were wide with surprise, and they grunted with effort as they tried to free themselves from where they’d been pinned by Lucia’s air magic.

The dagger moved through the air until it reached Tarus.

“Do it, witch,” Tarus spat. “Show us all what a cold-blooded killer you are.”

“If you insist,” Lucia replied.

“No!” Jonas pushed himself up from the floor and stepped between Lucia and the rebels. “Nobody dies here today.”

She looked at him incredulously. “They wanted to kill me. They wanted to kill you.”

“And they failed.”