“And what? You’re counting on him having a conscience? That he’s suddenly decided to change his ways? That, magically, he’s suddenly chosen to be the solution to all our problems?”
“No. I said I know him, which means I don’t trust him. People don’t change, not as quickly as that. Not without having previously proved that they are capable of change. He’s been hard and cruel and driven all my life . . .” He frowned and went silent again, his gaze scanning the frozen lake far below them.
“What’s wrong?” Cleo said as gently as she could so as not to discourage him from talking. The way he frowned . . . he must have been remembering something.
“I have these memories . . . they’re very foggy and distant. I can’t even be sure they’re memories instead of dreams. I was young, barely old enough to walk on my own. I remember having a father who was not nearly as cold as my mother. One who told me stories before I went to sleep.”
“Stories of demons and war and torture?”
“No. Actually . . .” He frowned deeply once again. “I recall one about a . . . dragon, but a friendly one.”
She stared at him blankly. “A friendly dragon.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps it was only a dream. Many things from my past seem like dreams to me now . . .” He trailed off, his expression turning stern. “I don’t want you involved in this. How can I convince you to go to Auranos?”
“You can’t, and this is the last we’ll speak of it. I’m in this with you, Magnus. No matter what happens.”
“Why?”
Cleo looked up at him, her heart full. “You know why,” she said softly.
His expression grew pained. “Such cryptic language has always confused me. Perhaps you still don’t trust me enough to speak plainly.”
“I thought that we’d successfully put concerns like that aside.”
“Perhaps in part. But are you trying to convince me that you didn’t think I wasn’t going to obey my father’s command and end your life at the side of that cliff? Because there’s no way you can. I saw the look in your eyes—the fear, the disappointment. You believed I’d kill you just to get into his good graces again.”
The guards weren’t close enough to overhear, but it still felt like a discussion meant for a much more private moment.
Still, he’d asked for her to speak plainly. “I admit, you were very convincing.”
“I was trying to be convincing, given that both of our lives were in jeopardy. But didn’t you hear me? I called you Cleiona—I’d hoped you would take that as a sign not to doubt me.” He shook his head. “Then again, why wouldn’t you? I’ve given you little reason to trust me.”
He started to turn away from her, but then she took his hands in hers. “Wrong. You’ve given me countless reasons to trust you.”
Magnus stared at the ground, his forehead furrowed in a deep frown, before his gaze flicked up to meet hers. “You’re determined to come with me to see my grandmother.”
Cleo nodded. “She could be the answer to everything.”
His jaw tightened. “I can only hope you’re right.”
So this witch would find Lucia, and then they would go to her, and beg for her help to rid Mytica of Amara. She had to admit, she didn’t like the idea of relying on the assistance of the young sorceress. “Do you honestly think that your sister will help us?” she asked. “The last time we saw her . . .” She shuddered at the memory of Lucia and Kyan arriving unannounced at the Limerian palace. Kyan had nearly burned Magnus to death with his fire magic.
Lucia had stopped him, but then turned her back on her brother when he’d asked her to stay.
“I hope she will help,” Magnus replied tightly. “This darkness that has emerged along with Lucia’s magic . . . it’s not really her. The sister I know is kind and sweet. She does well in her studies—far better than I ever did—and devours every book she sees. And I know she cares about Mytica and its people. When she learns about all that Amara has been up to, she will use her elementia to put a stop to it.”
“Well,” Cleo said, trying very hard to ignore the trickle of poison that had leaked into her chest at the sound of such brotherly praise, “she sounds absolutely perfect, doesn’t she?”
“Of course she isn’t perfect. None of us are.” The edge of his mouth quirked up. “But Lucia Damora is extremely close.”
“How unfortunate, then, that she’s currently under Kyan’s influence.”
“Yes.” The edge of amusement that had been in his gaze faded away and was replaced by steel. “He possesses the fire Kindred. You have earth. Amara has water. My father has had air for quite some time.”
All of a sudden, Cleo’s mind emptied of all other concerns. “How long has he had it? Or should I ask, why didn’t I know about this before today?”
Magnus blinked. “I’m sure I mentioned it before.”
“No, you certainly didn’t.”
“Hmm. I know someone was present when I received this news. Nic, perhaps.”
She couldn’t believe her own ears. “Nic knows that the king has the air Kindred, and neither you nor he told me?”
“Jonas also knows.”
She gasped. “This is unacceptable!”