Panic tightened her chest. “We need to go right now.”
There was deep pain on the king’s face. His eyes shone with tears. “This isn’t right. I’ve been a fool. Such a blind fool. I could have prevented this, but it’s too late now.”
“No, it’s not too late. Don’t say that!”
He shook his head. “They’re going to win, Cleo. They’re going to take it all. But you must find a way to take it back.”
She looked at him with confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Sweat dripped from his brow. He felt at his neck, pulling a long gold chain from underneath his shirt. He tugged to break it. On the end was a gold ring with a purple stone that he pressed into her hand. “Take this.”
“What is it?”
“It belonged to your mother. She always believed it had the power to help find the Kindred.”
“The Kindred,” Cleo breathed. She remembered Eirene’s words. Four crystals that held the essence of elementia. It was what had been stolen by the two goddesses and split between them. Fire and air, earth and water. “But why would my mother have something like this?”
“It was passed down through her family line from a man who was said to have been involved with a sorceress. It was so many years ago that it became legend. Your mother still believed it was true. I was going to give it to Emilia on her wedding day.” His voice broke. “But since that never came to be, I held on to it. You must take it. If you can find the Kindred, you’ll be powerful enough to take back this kingdom from those who seek to destroy us all.”
She looked up into his face, clutching the ring tightly. “I never knew you believed in magic.”
“I believe, Cleo. Even when I didn’t believe, I believed in your mother’s faith in it.” He gave her a pained smile. “But please be careful. Whatever weapon King Gaius used to breach the protection spell must be powerful and dangerous.”
“Come on, we need to move,” Cleo urged. “We’ll find the Kindred together. We’ll take back this kingdom together.”
He pressed his hand against her cheek, his expression one of aching sadness. “I wish that were possible.”
“What are you—” Cleo’s words cut off. There was something in the way he was standing, pressed up against the wall. His other hand was now tight against his side. Her gaze moved to the floor, where she finally saw the pool of blood that had formed there.
Her eyes shot back to her father’s face. “No!”
“I killed the one who did this to me.” He shook his head. “Small comfort.”
“You need help. You need a medic. A healer!”
“It’s too late for that.”
Cleo pressed her shaking hand against his side to find it soaked with blood. Pain crashed down upon her. “No, Father, please. You can’t leave me. Not like this.”
He slipped a few more inches and she grabbed hold of him to help him stay on his feet. “I know you’ll be a wonderful queen.”
Tears streamed down her face so much that she could barely see. “No, please. Please don’t leave me.”
“I love you.” Her father’s voice had grown strained as if it took great effort now for him to speak. “I’ll always love you. Be smarter than me. Be a better leader than me. Help bring Auranos back to its former glory. And believe in magic...always. I know it’s out there waiting for you to find it.”
“No, please no,” she whispered. “Don’t go. I need you.”
He finally slipped out of her grasp to the floor. His grip on her hand tightened painfully, then eased off completely.
Her father was dead.
Cleo had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She collapsed to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest, rocking herself back and forth. A cry of anguish locked in her throat, threatening to choke her. Then she clutched onto her father, not wanting to let him go even though she knew he was gone. “I love you. I love you so much.”
He hadn’t surrendered to the Limerians. If he had, this all could have been avoided.
But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t the truth. This king of Limeros, King Gaius, was a tyrant. A dictator. An evil man who would kill anyone who got in his way. If her father had stepped aside to prevent violence and bloodshed, she was positive he would have been killed anyway so he wouldn’t be a threat in the future.
Cleo kept her head against her father’s shoulder, the same as when she was little and needing comfort from some silly thing—hurt feelings, a skinned knee. He’d always drawn her to his side and told her it would be all right. The pain would ease. She would heal.