Immortal Reign (Falling Kingdoms #6)(64)

If she was an exiled Watcher and not just a common witch, that might explain it.

But her left hand—it wasn’t the hand of a mortal, it was the taloned foot of a hawk.

“Your hand . . .” he said, his breath drawing sharply in as he realized what he was looking at.

“My hand?” Valia held out her hands in front of her. “Do you see something odd about them?”

Magnus shook his head, now seeing only two graceful hands with short, perfectly manicured fingernails.

“Nothing,” he said, frowning deeply. “My apologies.”

Valia drew closer to him, taking Magnus’s hand in hers and unraveling the handkerchief he’d wrapped around his bloody wound.

“Let me help with that.” She pressed her palm against his. A glowing light appeared, and sudden pain sliced through his skin. He wanted to pull away, but he forced himself to remain still. When she removed her hand, his wound had healed.

“All right,” he said, trying very hard to keep his tone steady and controlled. She had enough earth magic within her to be able to heal just like Lucia could. “You’re for real.”

Valia didn’t reply. She took his hand in hers again. “Where did you get this?” she asked, touching the golden bloodstone ring on his finger.

Magnus took his hand away. “It was a gift from my father.”

“Quite a valuable gift,” she said, raising her gaze to meet his. “Many would kill for a ring like this. Many have killed for it.”

“You know what this is,” he whispered.

“I do.”

“What?”

“Dangerous,” she replied. “As dangerous as the one who created it with his death magic and necromancy a thousand years ago.”

He found he couldn’t speak for a moment. Silence stretched between them until he found his voice again.

“Just how old are you, Valia?” Magnus asked. Bruno had said he hadn’t seen her for three decades, yet she appeared only a handful of years older than Ashur.

She smiled, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. “That is a not a question a gentleman should ask of a lady.”

“I’m no gentleman.”

“Take care of that ring, Prince Magnus. Wouldn’t want someone to steal it away from you, would we?” Valia turned to Taran again, her gaze moving over the white lines on his throat and hand. “So, you want my help. And you think I would willingly become involved with this?”

“If you can help in any way,” Taran said, “I would hope that you would. And it’s not only me, it’s also Princess Cleiona. She’s in trouble . . . we both are.”

“And you need to help the other two,” Ashur said to Valia. “A young man named Nicolo and an immortal named Olivia. However, they are not as fortunate as Taran and Cleiona to still have some semblance of control.”

“He was right,” Valia said under her breath. “We’re close now. Too close.”

“Who was right?” Magnus asked.

“A friend of mine who likes to give advice and ask for difficult and time-consuming favors.” She swept her gaze over the four of them. “Bruno, it was lovely to see you again.”

Bruno bowed deeply. “And you as well. A vision of beauty, as always.”

Valia nodded. “Take me to the other one . . . this Princess Cleiona. I want to see her.”

“And then . . . ?” Magnus asked, his voice tight.

She met his gaze directly. “Then I will determine if there is anything I can do to help you, or if it’s far too late for that.”





CHAPTER 21


    CLEO


   AURANOS




Cleo woke up in the large canopied featherbed and sleepily reached for her husband.

But there was no one there.

She pushed up on her elbow to see that the silk sheets on the other side of the bed did not show any wrinkles.

Magnus hadn’t returned last night.

When she’d searched for him yesterday evening, she’d learned that he wasn’t the only one missing from the palace without explanation—so were Prince Ashur and Taran.

She wasn’t sure if she should be concerned or annoyed.

As she was thinking about it, her handmaiden arrived, a young Auranian girl named Anya who was attentive and polite. Her smile held even when she noticed the web of strange blue lines that now covered the entirety of Cleo’s right hand and arm.

Anya asked no questions but made polite conversation as she helped Cleo dress in a simple yet beautiful pale rose-colored gown with golden laces at the bodice.

It was one of the dresses Cleo had had modified by the palace tailor to include a pocket for her aquamarine orb.

“Have you seen Prince Magnus this morning?” Cleo asked.

“No, your grace,” Anya replied as she gently dragged a brush through Cleo’s long, tangled hair.

“And not last night either?”

“I’m afraid not. Likely, he’s enjoying the festival like everyone else is.”

“I highly doubt that,” she muttered. “He’s up to something.”

“Perhaps he’s out acquiring you a gift.”

“Perhaps,” Cleo allowed, although she was certain this wasn’t the case. If Magnus was with Taran and Ashur, she doubted that they would be doing anything frivolous. It would have been nice to have been kept informed of any plans.