Cleo peered down into the pit. “Where’s Magnus?”
When she realized that the prince wasn’t with the others, Amara frowned and turned to a guard. “Well? Where is he?”
The guard bowed. “It seems that he managed to slip away from us. There is a search being conducted, and I assure you that he will be found.”
“Magnus escaped?” Cleo asked, breathless.
Amara tensed. “Find him,” she told the guard. “Bring him here alive. I will hold you personally responsible if he’s not found.”
“Yes, empress.” The guard bowed before he rushed off.
“He doesn’t matter anymore,” Amara said, mostly to herself. “All is well.”
“Yes, little empress. All is well.”
A moment after Kyan spoke, thunder rolled in the sky. The clouds continued to gather, growing darker by the second. The wind picked up, sweeping Amara’s hair back from her shoulders.
“So it’s a true storm,” she said, her skin tingling with anticipation of what was to come.
“Yes. Created from all the elements combined by powerful blood magic.”
Two guards approached the pit with more prisoners that Amara hadn’t expected.
Cleo gasped. “Nic! You’re alive!”
The boy was bloody, bruised, and disheveled, but it did appear that Cleo’s friend was still very much alive. Amara nodded at the guard, who released Nic long enough for Cleo to run straight into his embrace.
“I thought you were dead!” she cried.
“I nearly was. But . . . I recovered.”
Cleo took Nic’s face between her hands, staring as if unable to believe her own eyes. “I’m so unbelievably angry at you I want to scream!”
“Don’t scream. I have a really bad headache.” He gingerly touched the red mark on his temple.
“How are you alive? Amara said she saw you die.”
“Believe it or not, it’s thanks to Lucia.”
Amara was certain she’d heard him wrong. “The sorceress was here?” she asked.
Nic turned a look of sheer hatred on her. “Why? Are you afraid that she’s going to bring this place crumbling down on top of you? We can only hope, can’t we?”
Amara was about to reply, or perhaps ask for his blood to spill early, but the other prisoner caught her eye.
“Nerissa?” She turned to her attendant with shock, then glared at the guard holding her in place. “What is the meaning of this?”
“She assisted in Prince Magnus’s escape, along with the boy,” the guard explained. “Together, they were trying to steal from your chambers.”
Amara blinked with surprise as the news registered. “Why would you do this to me? I thought we’d become friends.”
“You thought wrong,” Nerissa said. “I’m sure you won’t believe anything I tell you right now, so I choose to say nothing at all.”
“You cannot trust anyone, little empress. This girl you’d come to value managed to fool even you.”
Amara raised her chin, the betrayal cutting deeper than she ever would have expected. “Put this lying little bitch in with the others. And the other one too.”
“Amara!” Cleo cried.
“Hold your tongue—unless you want to join them,” Amara snapped. “And I promise, that would not be good choice for you to make today. Choose which side you wish to stand on, Cleo—mine or theirs?”
Cleo’s chest heaved, but she didn’t say another word as Nic and Nerissa were forced by guards to descend a rope ladder that lowered them into the pit.
Amara glanced over the edge to witness Ashur’s reaction to Nic’s resurrection, wishing to focus on something other than Nerissa’s betrayal.
“You’re alive,” Ashur gasped.
“I am,” Nic replied tightly.
Ashur’s eyes brimmed with tears as he sank down to his knees.
How weak you’ve become, brother, she thought with disgust and a whisper of sadness for all that had been lost between them.
“What’s wrong with you?” Nic asked Ashur, frowning.
“You . . . I know you came after me, to try to talk me out of what I believed was right. And I . . . I thought you were dead.”
Nic watched him warily. “Seems to be a very common belief today. But I’m not.”
Ashur nodded. “It’s good.”
“I’m glad that you’re glad.” Nic’s frown deepened. “Honestly? I didn’t think you’d care one way or the other. Now, uh . . .” He glanced around at the others in the pit nervously. “Please stand up now.”
Ashur did as requested, drawing closer to Nic. “I know my behavior has been unforgiveable of late. I wanted to push everyone away . . . especially you. I didn’t want you to get hurt. But I was wrong—wrong about everything. About myself, about my choices, about my destiny. I thought I was important.”
“You are important.”
“I’m not the phoenix. I see that now.” Ashur lowered his head, and his hair, loose from the piece of leather he used to tie it back, fell over his face. “Please forgive me, Nicolo.”