“Fear not, little queen, I am with you.”
Her breath caught. Somehow Kyan still thought that they were together in this. But why would he need her now? She’d never felt as helpless in her entire life as she did at this moment, even surrounded by strong young men who were normally more than capable of protecting her from harm.
Except Magnus. Her gut twisted. Where was he? Imprisoned somewhere else? But where?
Cleo watched as Selia slowly levitated herself into the pit as if standing on an invisible platform of air magic. She prayed that Felix, Taran, and Enzo weren’t foolish enough to try to attack the witch. Cleo had no doubt they would fail quickly.
Thankfully, they didn’t budge from where they stood.
“How long have you been planning this, Mother?” King Gaius asked from his seated position. He hadn’t moved an inch since Cleo and Amara had been cast into the pit.
“A very long time, my son,” Selia replied, her fingers brushing against her snake pendant. “My entire life, it seems.”
“You were the one to teach me about the Kindred, to drive my passion to find the crystals.”
“Yes. And you took to this promise of power just as I knew you would.”
“But you didn’t tell me everything.”
She met his gaze. “No. It had to remain my secret until now.”
He nodded. “When I was younger I thought you simply wanted the magic of the Kindred, like anyone else who’d heard their legend. But it’s always been more than that, hasn’t it? You wanted to help free them.”
She crouched down at his side and put her hand to his cheek. “I wasn’t lying to you. You will rule the world, only differently than I had originally planned. The fire god is in need of a new corporeal vessel. I believe that only you are great enough, worthy enough, to have that omnipotent power within you.”
Before the king could respond, Cleo felt a draft of warm air slide past her.
“No, little witch,” Kyan said. “This fallen king won’t do at all. He’s too old. Too sick.”
“Who just said that?” Nic asked, staring around the pit.
Cleo’s wide eyes glanced over to him. “You can hear him too?”
Nic nodded.
“I hear him too,” Taran said, scanning the pit. Felix and Enzo stood on either side of him, their expressions tense, but they also nodded in agreement.
“That is only because I allow it,” Kyan said. “Like the little empress’s brother said earlier, there’s no reason to hide any longer.”
“Gaius is improving, Kyan,” Selia assured him. “He was horribly injured, near death. It will take more time to fully heal, but he’s well on his way.”
“No. I wish for a different vessel.”
“Of course.” Selia’s brows furrowed, the only sign of her disappointment as she glanced around at the others. “What about the Kraeshian here, Prince Ashur? Young, handsome, strong.”
“Again, no. I need someone already possessed by a soul of fire.” There was silence for a moment as the sensation of heat moved around the circumference of the pit. “This one. Yes, this one is perfect. I sense greatness within, greatness shielded from the world.”
Who? Cleo thought frantically. There was no way to tell to whom the fire god referred.
“Then let’s begin,” Selia said.
The witch held her hand out, and the three crystal orbs Amara had hidden in the pockets of her robes flew across the pit and into Selia’s hands.
Cleo watched tensely as she placed the aquamarine, obsidian, and moonstone orbs gently in the center of the pit. “Where is the amber crystal?” Selia asked.
“It’s not here,” Kyan said.
“Where is it?”
“I am already free from my prison; there is no need for it now. The ritual must work without it. Proceed.”
Selia yanked the silver chain from around her neck, and Cleo realized with shock that the large snake pendant she wore wasn’t simply jewelry—it was a vial with a small stopper.
The witch tipped the silver vial over the three crystals to drip dark red liquid onto them. With each drop, the orbs brightened, glowing from within.
“You have Lucia’s blood,” the king said, his voice hoarse. “How?”
She raised a brow. “I bled her when she was a child, before my exile. It only took the barest trace of earth magic to keep it fresh all this time.” Selia looked at Olivia. “Come here and hold out your arm.”
Olivia moved toward Selia and did exactly as commanded. The witch produced a dagger and cut Olivia’s arm. When the immortal’s blood joined Lucia’s upon the orbs, they each flared brighter than before.
Cleo wanted to rush forward, to knock the dagger from the witch’s grip, but she knew it would be the last thing she ever did. She felt utterly helpless as she watched this dark ritual unfold in front of her.
But despite her anger with Magnus about so many things, she knew that he wouldn’t leave the compound if he managed to escape from Amara’s guards again. He wouldn’t focus on saving only himself.