“And yet, you’re sitting and speaking,” Cleo said, her words clipped.
“I am.” He peered up at her. “It must be taking quite a lot of restraint from you right now, princess, not to beg my son to end my life.”
Her eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t think your guards would kill him a moment later, I would.”
Magnus looked toward the silent guards now flanking them. Each one had their sword in hand, their expressions tense.
“Point well made.” The king took a deep, steady breath. “Guards, hear me. You will obey all commands of Magnus Damora from this moment forward. He will not be held responsible for anything that has, or will, happen to me.”
The guards glanced at each other with strained and uncertain expressions before Enzo nodded. “Very well, your highness,” he said.
“What deception is this?” Cleo spat out. “Do you think we’ll believe anything you say?”
The king smiled. “We. How very sweet it is that you two have traversed this dangerous maze together and come out on the other side holding hands. How long have you two been working together against me? I’d no idea I had been so blind.”
Magnus ignored the king’s attempt to throw him off course. “If this isn’t Kindred magic, what is it?”
With total disregard for the sword Magnus held, the king slowly and shakily pushed himself up to his feet. “Melenia told me that I was destined for immortality, that I would be a god.” He let out a small, bitter laugh. “For a time, I actually believed her.”
“Answer my damn question,” Magnus snarled again. He jabbed the blade forward, leaving a shallow scratch on the king’s throat.
Gaius flinched, his expression darkening in an instant. “There’s only one person responsible for the magic that helped me survive today. Your grandmother.”
Magnus didn’t believe him. “What common witch could possess magic as strong as this?”
“There was never anything common about Selia Damora.”
“You expect us to believe anything you say?” Cleo snapped.
The king looked at the girl without a lick of kindness in his eyes. “No. I wouldn’t expect a child to understand the complexities of life and death.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Her fists were clenched at her sides. “If I had a sword in my grasp right now, I’d end you myself.”
The king laughed. “You could certainly try.”
“You look like you’re already dead.” Magnus realized the truth of his words as he spoke them, his father’s pale appearance no healthier than a corpse—his skin slack and bearing a grayish tinge, his bruises mottled browns and purples, his blood so dark it appeared black. “Perhaps Grandmother’s healing magic wasn’t as strong as you’d like to believe.”
“This isn’t healing magic.” His brow glistened with perspiration despite the frigid morning air. “This has only prolonged the inevitable.”
Magnus frowned. “Explain.”
“When what little magic remaining within me fades, I will die.”
His father’s bluntly delivered statement only filled him with more confusion.
“He’s lying,” Cleo said through clenched teeth. “Don’t let him manipulate you. If this isn’t earth magic, then it’s blood magic that keeps his black heart beating.”
Magnus glanced at the guards, taking in their troubled gazes and furrowed brows before returning his attention to his father. “If this is true, how long do you have?”
“I don’t know.” He inhaled, and Magnus heard the hard edge of pain in his breath once again. “Hopefully long enough to fix some of the mistakes I’ve made. The most recent ones, anyway.”
Magnus turned his face away, disgusted. “Unfortunately, we don’t have enough time to go over a list as endless as that.”
“You’re right.” Gaius gazed at Magnus, past the sword. “Perhaps I can fix only one, then. In order to defeat Amara and reclaim Mytica, we will need to unlock the full power of the Kindred.”
“For this, we need Lucia’s blood and the blood of an immortal.”
“Yes.”
“I have no idea where to find her.”
Disappointment crossed the king’s pale expression. “I must go to see my mother immediately. She’ll use her magic to find Lucia. I would trust no other witch with this task.”
“Go to her? How?” Magnus frowned. “Grandmother has been dead for more than twelve years.”
“No, she’s very much alive.”
He stared at the king in shock. Magnus’s memories of his grandmother were sparse, foggy glimpses of his childhood and a woman with black hair and a cool gaze. A woman who had passed away shortly after his grandfather’s death.
“He’s trying to confuse you.” Cleo took Magnus’s hand in her own, drawing him away from his father and out of earshot from both him and the guards. “We need to go to Auranos. There’s help there. Help we can trust, without question or doubt. Those loyal to my father’s name will not hold the king’s crimes against you, I promise.”
He shook his head. “This is not a war that a few rebels can win. Amara’s become too powerful, she’s gained too much with barely any effort. We need to find Lucia.”