Crystal Storm (Falling Kingdoms #5)

“It’s called the bloodstone. We will find it together, and when we do I am certain it will fully restore your father to his former greatness.”

“That sounds like a valuable treasure,” the king said. “One you’ve never mentioned to me before today.”

“I didn’t tell you everything I know, Gaius.”

“No. I’m quite sure you didn’t.”

Their voices became distant echoes as Magnus considered the existence of this bloodstone . . . another rock imbued with great power and magic that could allegedly heal even someone who already looked as if they had been dead and buried.

Forget his father, Magnus thought. That was magic he wanted for himself.





CHAPTER 9


    AMARA


   LIMEROS



Since childhood, Amara had enjoyed taking long walks in the tropical splendor of the Jewel of the Empire, relishing in its vibrant colors and warm weather, often with Ashur by her side. The kiss of sunlight gave her renewed hope when her father had been particularly cruel or her brothers Dastan and Elan ignored her very existence. In Kraeshia, no one had to wear heavy fur-lined cloaks or huddle close to fires to keep from freezing.

Yes, she missed her home desperately and longed to return there when she finally had what she’d come here for. Then she would say farewell to this frozen and unforgiving kingdom once and for all.

She turned from the main hall’s large windowpane, framed with ice crystals, which looked out at the villa’s snow-covered grounds, to regard Kurtis. He’d entered the hall to bring the daily news, and he currently kneeled before her, his arms full of papers.

“Rise and speak, Lord Kurtis,” she commanded as she moved toward her small throne.

“Preparations are under way for you to move to the Limerian palace tomorrow, your grace,” he said.

“Excellent.” Gaius had suggested the move three days earlier, before his departure, and she’d rather not stay at the villa any longer than absolutely necessary.

She strived for patience as Kurtis struggled, one-handed, to sort through his armful of papers.

“Have my men reported anything on my husband’s current whereabouts?” she asked.

He scanned a few more pieces of parchment before replying. “No, your grace. Not yet.”

“Really? Nothing at all?”

“No.” He gave her a thin smile. “But I’m sure he’d be pleased to know that his wife is so eager to have him return to her side.”

“Yes, of course.” Amara regarded him for a moment in silence, still trying to decide whether or not she’d come to value his presence over the last few days. According to Gaius—and Kurtis himself—this young man had been a worthy grand kingsliege, one who’d held command of Limeros for months before Magnus arrived and tore his power away.

Amara’s gaze drifted to the stump of Kurtis’s right arm. Despite the dressing of fresh white bandages, a blotch of blood had begun to seep through.

“What other news is there?” she asked, taking a sip from her goblet of cider that Nerissa had provided earlier.

“My father, Lord Gareth, has sent a message.”

“Read it to me.”

He unrolled the parchment, dropping several others pieces of paper to the floor. “Great Empress, first, my deepest congratulations on your marriage to King Gaius, a true and dear friend of mine. He sent word to me about the current situation in Mytica, and I wish for you to know that I understand the situation and embrace this chance to serve my glorious new empress in any capacity you may require.”

Yes, Amara thought wryly, I’m quite sure he does, given that the alternative is death or imprisonment.

“For now,” Kurtis continued, “unless you command my services elsewhere, I will remain at the Auranian palace in the City of Gold. Please know that I shall welcome any and all Kraeshians as friends and allies.”

“Very good.” Amara gifted Kurtis with a small smile when he finished. “Your father sounds a great deal like you. Very amenable to unexpected changes.”

Kurtis returned her modest grin with a simpering one of his own, telling her that he took this wry observation as a compliment. “We both have a knack for recognizing greatness in a leader.”

“That’s very wise of you,” she said through teeth made to ache by Kurtis’s cloying comment.

In her periphery, she saw Nerissa enter the room with a tray of food and wine. The girl quietly placed it on a table. When Kurtis immediately gestured to her to leave, Amara turned toward the door.

“Stay,” Amara commanded her. “I want to speak with you.”

Nerissa bowed. “Yes, empress.”

“Lord Kurtis, is that all the news for the day you have to share with me?”

Kurtis’s back stiffened. “I have many more papers to read to you.”

“Yes, but do they contain anything important?” She raised an eyebrow and waited. “Vital? Any news of my soldiers on the brink of a revolt against their new ruler? Or news of Prince Ashur’s imminent arrival?”

“No, your grace.”

“Then you may leave us.”

“Yes, your grace.” Without another word, Kurtis bowed his head and left the room. In the few days she’d known the kingsliege, she’d realized one important thing: He took commands very well.