Amara turned toward the witch with shock. “You dare—?”
Selia flicked her finger again, and it felt as if a large and invisible hand had shoved her. Amara lost her footing and fell into the pit. As she slammed to the ground, her leg made a sickening crunching sound.
Felix looked down at her, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Oops,” he said. “I forgot to catch you. Did that hurt?”
Blinded by pain and unable to move, through tear-filled eyes Amara saw Selia at the edge of the pit, smiling down at all of them.
“Excellent,” Kyan said. “Now, let’s begin.”
CHAPTER 31
JONAS
PAELSIA
Lucia insisted that she and Jonas journey to the empress’s compound as quickly as possible. This meant on horseback, which Jonas knew, even before they started, was a bad idea for someone in the princess’s condition. To Lucia’s credit, she didn’t complain once as they rode southeast as fast as they could.
But then she came to a halt in the middle of a forest—or what had once been a forest. Jonas saw that all around him, the bushes and trees that had once grown tall and lush were now brown and withering. He glanced over at Lucia. Her skin was so pale, she looked no healthier than a five-day-old corpse.
“I can keep going,” she muttered.
“I don’t think so.”
“Don’t argue with me, rebel. My family—”
“Your family can bloody well wait.” He hopped off his horse and was at her side to catch her when she lost her grip on the reins and slid off.
The skies darkened in moments.
“Damn Paelsian storms,” Jonas grumbled, looking upward. “You never know when they’re coming.”
A loud roar of thunder was enough to frighten the horses. Before Jonas could do anything to stop them, they ran away.
“Figures,” he growled. “One bad thing leads to another.”
Lucia clutched his hand as he tried to put her on her feet. “Jonas . . .”
“What?”
“Oh, goddess, I think . . .” She cried out in pain. “I think it’s time.”
“Time?” He shook his head, regarding her with denial. “No, it’s not time for anything but finding ourselves other transportation.”
“The baby . . .”
“No, I repeat, you are not doing this now.”
“I don’t think I have a choice.”
He took her by her shoulders. “Look at me, princess. Look at me!”
Lucia raised her pained gaze to his.
“You’re not going to give birth now, because Timotheus visited my dream—just one, just long enough to tell me that he had a vision about me. I am with you when you die in childbirth. And I’m supposed to raise your son.”
She stared at him, her eyes widening. “He said that?”
“Yes.”
“You are going to raise my son?”
“Yes, apparently.”
“A Paelsian wine seller’s son is going to raise my child?”
Jonas was far too weary to care about the insult. “Didn’t you hear what I said about you dying?”
“I deserve to die for all I’ve done. While I certainly wouldn’t pick here and now, I knew it was coming. I accept that I have no choice.” Then she cried out again. “And you must accept your destiny, because I don’t think you’re going to have any choice either.”
He hissed out a breath. “I should leave you here, just turn my back on all of this. But I won’t.”
“Good.”
“Are you sure this is really happening now?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
Jonas picked her up and tried to find shelter in the barren forest before the skies opened. He pulled off his cloak and put it around her shoulders for more warmth.
“I don’t know what to do,” Lucia said.
“I learned one thing from my mother when I was a kid,” Jonas told her. “She helped other women when they gave birth in our village. She said that nature has a way of making it happen whether you know what you’re doing or not. Maybe you can do something to relieve the pain, though, with your earth magic?”
Lucia shook her head. “I’m drained. I’m weak. My magic is gone. Timotheus is right. I see now why he didn’t want to tell me about this. He had me believing that I could stop Kyan, but I see now that it must be you.” She pressed something into his hand, and he looked down to see that it was an orb of amber. “Kyan must be imprisoned again. You have magic within you, Jonas. It all makes sense to me now.” As she spoke, her voice grew weaker and weaker, until it was barely audible above the roaring of the storm. He struggled to find footing in the muddy ground as he crouched next to the princess.
“You think I can imprison something like him? You’re the prophesied sorceress.”
“Not for much longer, it seems. Jonas . . .” He had to draw closer to hear her whisper. “Tell my brother, my father . . . tell them that I’m sorry I hurt them. Tell them that I love them, that I know they loved me. And tell . . . tell my son when he’s old enough to understand that there was good in me.” She smiled weakly. “Way down deep, anyway.”