“And what?” Ashur asked softly.
“And . . . he’s dead.” It sounded far too horrible to put into words, but she had to. She wanted to twist the words into Ashur to see if this prince was truly made of steel, someone who didn’t give a damn whom he hurt or used or left behind.
“No.” Ashur shook his head, his brows drawing together. “No, that can’t be.”
“It’s true.” Amara nodded. “I saw it happen.”
“You said it yourself,” Cleo said, her throat tight. The confirmation stole away any hope she had left that this had been a lie. “Anyone who truly cares for you ends up dead. I can’t imagine you’re all that surprised.”
“No,” Ashur said again as he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Oh, please, Ashur.” Amara flicked her hand dismissively. “You barely knew that boy! You’re trying to tell me you’re upset by this news?”
“Shut your mouth!” Cleo roared at her, surprising herself with her own sudden ferocity. Amara stared at her, shocked. “He was my friend, my best friend. I loved him, and he loved me. He was my family, and because of you and your brother he’s dead!”
“Because of us, is it?” Amara repeated, her voice low. “Did you even try to stop him from chasing after my brother like a pathetic, discarded lover from his past?”
“I didn’t know until he was already gone!”
“Perhaps you should have been keeping a better watch over someone you proclaim to have loved.”
Cleo lurched toward her, wanting to tear every piece of hair from her head, but Ashur was behind her, holding her arms and keeping her in place.
She struggled, as she’d done earlier with the guards, wanting to claw at the prince’s face too. “Let go of me!”
“Violence is not the answer to violence,” he said, finally releasing her to point at a chair. “Sit and be silent, unless you wish to be removed from this room.”
Cleo did the best she could to compose herself, cursing the day these horrible siblings had never set foot on Mytican soil.
“You want to know why I’m alive, Sister?” Ashur said, his teeth clenched. “Because I learned what happened to you as a child. I know our father tried to kill you. And I’m not deaf or blind; I have heard you and Grandmother speaking to each other, planning what was to come and deciding who was in the way. When I felt that my life might be at risk, even though I didn’t entirely believe you would do such a thing—not to me—I went to visit Grandmother’s apothecary . . .”
A warm breeze moved over Cleo’s bare arms.
“My, my, this is quite dramatic, isn’t it, little queen?” a voice whispered in her ear.
She gasped.
“It would be best not to react to me. Wouldn’t want to interrupt the prince and princess—or is that emperor and empress?—during their long-awaited reunion.”
Cleo kept her gaze on Amara and Ashur as Ashur explained why he’d been resurrected and how he believed himself to be the legendary, peace-bringing phoenix.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“Shh. Don’t speak. Amara will be very jealous if she knows I’m talking to other pretty girls behind her back. But perhaps I don’t care what she thinks of me anymore. She has been a disappointment to me, now that the storm draws closer.” He paused. “I am the god of fire, little queen, released from my prison at long last.”
Cleo began to tremble.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me. I see now that I overlooked so much at our last brief meeting. My attention was more on Lucia and her brother and my search for a special, magical wheel. But you . . . your eyes . . .”
Warmth touched her face, and her muscles tensed.
“They’re the color of aquamarine. The very color of my sister’s crystal orb. Please nod if you understand me.”
She gave a shallow nod, barely breathing now.
“There is power hidden deep within you, little queen. And a desire for more. Do you know that you’re descended from a goddess? Would you like me to give you all the magic you’ve ever dreamed of possessing?”
Cleo knew very well what Kyan had done to Lysandra and what he and Lucia had done to many villages in Paelsia. Despite her fear and her hate for this creature she couldn’t see, there seemed to be no other answer at the moment that would satisfy him and ensure she’d remain unharmed.
So she nodded.
“Amara is unworthy, I see that now. She is only after power for herself, yet she fools herself that she aspires for more than her father did. However, you would sacrifice yourself to save those you love, wouldn’t you?”
Cleo forced herself to nod again, even as a shiver went up her spine. What dark promise was she making?
Did the fire Kindred truly see something in her, something special and powerful and worthy of possessing true magic?
Perhaps her wish had finally come true.
“I will return with the storm. It’s so close now, little queen. Tell no one about what I’ve said to you. Don’t disappoint me.”
The warmth that had made her start to perspire faded away, and she realized Amara was speaking to her.