Dance of a Burning Sea (Mousai, #2)

They were your parents too.

This young man with a crown . . . was Alōs’s brother?

Time seemed to stop as her heart froze in a panic, a ringing filling her ears.

But that would mean . . .

No, her mind screamed. That cannot be possible.

Alōs was . . . royalty?

“You feel different each time you visit,” Ariōn continued when Alōs did not answer. “Your magic . . . it grows colder and colder. You are still doing things you wish you did not.”

“Don’t,” warned Alōs, pulling his arm free. “The past has been written, and I would do every bit of it again.”

Ariōn frowned. “Will you never stop suffering for me?”

“I would have suffered greater without you.”

“You exist without me now.”

“It is not the same.”

“No? What is a family if you cannot be with them?”

“Do not argue with me about a time when you were too young, too sick, to know consequence.” Annoyance flashed through Alōs’s gaze. “I made a decision because our parents could not. Despite the price, I ensured both of Tallōs and Cordelia’s children lived.”

“Yes, lived,” Ariōn mocked. “Like I live here? Alone? Unable to leave the palace compound, to step beyond my own walls and walk among our people. I could barely go for a swim without Mother and Father ensuring a horde of medics and healers surrounded my every move. By the lost gods, I’ve eaten the same meal for almost a decade! If this is living, Alōs, I would rather have died.”

A tense silence filled the room.

“You think you’ve been cursed to be alone?” Alōs’s tone contained a dark edge of destruction. “You, who were lucky enough to be raised in the sanctuary of our homeland and loved into adulthood by our parents. You have a room of devoted followers waiting in your chambers this very moment, a friend standing beside you now.” Alōs gestured to the man in blue robes. “What do you know of alone? What do you know of being forced to start over with nothing and no way back?”

Ariōn wiped at his cheek, as if brushing away a tear, and Niya watched as Alōs’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly, a bit of his fury dissipating. His body swayed forward, as if about to embrace his brother. But in the end, he kept still.

“I never asked you to sacrifice so much,” said Ariōn eventually.

“You never needed to. We both know you would have done the same if our roles were reversed.”

“You are right,” Ariōn replied softly. “I’m sorry. I merely . . . miss you, especially today. Which is why I must know. Have you found it?”

“One part.” Alōs took a small velvet bag from inside his coat pocket and placed it in Ariōn’s palm. The young man spilled out a tiny red jewel, tracing his fingertips over the stone.

Niya instantly recognized the object as the same jewel that had been in Alōs’s ring. He had removed it, but why?

“It’s so small,” said Ariōn.

“Yes,” agreed Alōs. “And cost me greatly to reacquire.”

“How much?”

“Don’t worry yourself.”

“How much?” demanded Ariōn.

“Let’s just say I am getting used to being banished from kingdoms.”

Niya took a step back as though punched, more dots connecting. Banishment . . . was this jewel from his ring the reason why Alōs would be so reckless as to steal phorria from the Thief Kingdom? But why? What was so special as to risk one’s life and liberty for such a tiny gem?

Where did your biggest red stone go? The question she had asked Cebba. Were these two gems connected? And why would Ariōn need it?

“We are close to finding the rest,” continued Alōs. “It’s believed to be in the Valley of Giants, placed in the crown of the princess.”

“Callista?” Ariōn’s brows rose. “A girl of sixteen has our Prism Stone?”

“You are only a year older and will rule Esrom.”

“Yes, but I am very mature for my age.” Ariōn tipped his chin up, eliciting a small grin from Alōs.

“Extremely.”

“Do not mock.”

“I’m not.”

Ariōn did not appear convinced. “We might not have seen each other in years, but I still know when you’re making fun of me. A younger brother will always know that.”

“I’ll be more careful with my tone, then, next time.”

Ariōn gave a very unprincely snort in response.

Niya watched the exchange with utter fascination and, if she was being honest, queasiness. It was all so . . . normal. Behavior similar to that of her and her sisters.

To see Alōs—a man who severed heads, commanded thieves, and seduced innocents—act as an older brother, show genuine affection, turned Niya’s entire world on its axis.

What did you call a monster who was capable of love?

The same name as you, whispered a voice in the back of her mind.

A shiver ran the length of her.

No, she thought. I am not the same as he! Yet the conviction felt weak, forced. For she, too, had been called a beast and reveled in it, knowing she could also love.

“But as for your concern about the stone,” continued Alōs, bringing her attention back to the room, “no one but us knows what it truly is; plus, when broken apart as it is presently, the Prism Stone doesn’t hold any true power.”

Niya’s mind refocused, hearing his words.

Where did your biggest red stone go?

So this was part of the treasure Alōs hunted? A Prism Stone? Niya had never heard of such a thing, but if the rest winked as richly as the small gem in his ring . . .

“I wondered why I didn’t feel any power in it.” Ariōn touched the jewel again.

“Keep this part safe.” Alōs closed his brother’s fingers around the jewel. “I will search out the rest. But before I go, I will need something worthy to gift the young princess and something equal in measure to replace the rest of the stone we plan to take.”

Ariōn nodded. “Ixō will ensure you part with what you need.”

The robed figure, whom Niya surmised was Ixō, came to the young prince’s side, taking the jewel from his outstretched hand.

“I will serve however you command.” Ixō kissed Ariōn’s palm.

The prince gave a small smile. “I know.”

Niya watched Alōs regard their exchange, eyes calculating how Ixō’s kiss lingered and how his brother did not seem to mind.

“You will succeed, brother.” Ariōn turned back to him. “You will put the Prism Stone back together, and everything will be made whole once more.”

“Some things, perhaps, but not all.”

“I am king now. I will ensure your pardon.”

“I’m not sure the people of Esrom would commend you for it,” said Alōs sardonically.

“For once, you speak truths.”

A high voice brought the group’s attention to the bedchamber’s entryway. A tall woman in similar blue robes as Ixō’s stood at the open door. She had the same silver marking on her forehead, and her long black hair was decorated with matching beads that swayed as she approached. “You will forever be a treasonous deserter to the citizens of Esrom.”

“That is not true,” countered Ixō, his gaze stern. “There are many in court who understand why Prince Alōs acted as he did. Once the stone is returned, I know they would support a pardon.”

“If the stone is returned, you mean.” The woman looked down her nose at the man. “There is little time left for Pirate Alōs to find what he stole,” she said, correcting his title with a sneer. “The magic in Esrom grows weaker by the day. It won’t be long until we surface, for all the world to rape and pillage. I should not have you arrested but beheaded on the spot for returning here, especially on a mournful day such as—”

“Be silent.” Ariōn’s voice rang out, sounding much stronger than before. “You shall not speak of my brother’s presence to anyone, and if you cannot do as I wish, Surb Dhruva, then you shall be relieved of your tongue.”

Ariōn might as well have slapped the woman for the shock she displayed. “But Prince—”

“It is King Ariōn now,” he corrected.

Surb Dhruva hesitated, a shrewd gleam in her eyes, before answering, “Of course, my king. I am merely trying to uphold the laws that even your parents adhered to.”

E.J. Mellow's books