Her first instinct was to lie, but the time for lies was past.
“It’s failed me,” Lucia admitted, the words like broken glass in her throat. “Lyssa . . . I don’t understand it, but she’s been stealing my magic since even before she was born.”
Magnus nodded slowly. He wiped the sharp edge of his blade with a handkerchief, the red blood appearing black in the shadows of the dungeon cell.
“So you can’t help Cleo,” he said. “And you can do nothing to defeat Kyan.”
A flash of anger ignited within her at this dismissal. “I didn’t say that.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“I’m trying to find a solution,” she said. “I won’t let you down again.”
Her brother’s expression was unreadable to her, void of emotion. She couldn’t tell if he was upset or angry or disappointed.
Likely all three.
“I certainly hope not,” he finally replied.
Magnus didn’t say another word as she left the dungeon and slowly made her way back to the palace.
The first thing she noticed when she entered her chambers was the scent of burning flesh.
Her gaze fell with horror upon the blackened, smoldering corpse of the nursemaid in the center of the room.
A cry escaped Lucia’s throat, a pained screech that barely sounded human.
She ran to the cradle to find it empty.
Lyssa was gone.
CHAPTER 17
JONAS
AURANOS
Jonas didn’t attend the king’s speech. He already knew far too well what to expect.
False promises. Lies. More lies.
Typical political horse dung.
Instead, he and Felix scoured the City of Gold looking for Ashur. Since his arrival yesterday in the palace city with the very much not-dead Prince Magnus, the Kraeshian prince had been visiting local taverns where, he said, the tongues of patrons were loose and ready to reveal secrets their sober selves might not provide.
Secrets about magic.
Secrets about local witches.
Secrets about someone, anyone, who might be able to lend their skills to help end Kyan the moment he showed his stolen face.
Jonas had his own secret means of ending Kyan, safe in the sheath on his belt. From what frustratingly little Timotheus had shared with him about the golden dagger, he thought that it would end the fire god very nicely.
However, it would also end Nic as well. And so they searched for other possibilities.
Jonas walked with Felix down the busy street, lined with shops and bakeries and places where Auranians could buy shiny baubles to wear clipped to their ears and strung around their necks.
Many people were walking in the direction of the palace, ready to stand in the palace square shoulder to shoulder in the blazing heat of midday to listen to King Gaius’s most recent set of lies.
A man in a dark blue surcoat embroidered with what looked like sparkling diamonds bumped into Felix. He glared at him and pushed his way past.
“Do you ever want to start killing people at random just because they’re a bunch of rich, pompous arses?” Felix muttered to Jonas, watching the man walk away.
“I used to,” Jonas admitted. “I hated royals. Hated Auranians just for having the privileges denied to us in Paelsia.”
“And now?”
“The urge is there, but I know it would be wrong.”
Felix groaned. “Perhaps, but it would feel so good. Right? Let out some pent-up frustration.” He nodded at a pair of green-uniformed Kraeshian soldiers watching over the flow of citizens up ahead. “We could start with them.”
The sight of Amara’s dwindling but continuing occupation was a reminder of more oppression. “Frankly, I wouldn’t stop you.”
“Did you see Enzo in his guard’s uniform this morning?” Felix scrunched his nose as if he smelled something foul. “He finally went back to work at his post . . . said it was his honor to do so.”
“He’s Limerian down to his red blood. He can’t help but be bound to duty and honor, even if it means taking orders from King Gaius himself.” Jonas gave his friend a wry look. “Sometimes I forget that you’re Limerian too. You don’t exactly fit in with the rest of them, do you?”
Felix smirked. “Part of my charm is that I fit in wherever I am. I’m a chameleon.”
There was no part of Felix Gaebras, eye patch and glowering, intimidating presence combined, that fit in wherever he was. But Jonas chose not to argue with him.
“You are indeed a chameleon,” he said instead, nodding.
“Perhaps that’s why Enzo’s been in such a bad mood the last couple of days,” Felix said as they paused in front of a shop with impressively clear windows that showed a selection of decorated cakes and pastries. “Insufferable, really.”
Jonas already knew far too much about Enzo’s moods. “He proposed marriage to Nerissa.”
“What?” Felix regarded him with shock. “And what did Nerissa say to that?”
“She said no.”
Felix nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “Clearly, that’s because she’s fallen madly in love with me.”
“She hasn’t.”
“Give her time.”
“You believe what you want to believe.”
“I will.”
Jonas glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the palace, which lay in the direct center of the city. He could see its highest golden tower above the shops surrounding them. “I wonder how long the king is going to talk?”
“Hours, likely. He enjoys the sound of his voice far more than anyone else does.” Felix cast a look at the maze of storefronts and buildings around them. “We’re never going to find Ashur if he doesn’t want to be found. Remember when we were in Basilia, and—poof—he’d just be gone? Just wandered off and didn’t even tell anyone? Kraeshians are so sneaky.”
“Ashur’s just doing what he needs to do.”
“So . . . him and Nic, huh?” Felix said, raising a brow above his eye patch. “I knew there was something there, but it didn’t completely click until we were in the pit. And then I’m all: ‘I knew it!’ Because I did know it. You can just tell these things.”
Jonas frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Ashur and . . . Nic.” Felix spread his hands. “They’re—”
The sound of a scream caught their attention. It was followed by more shouts and a commotion coming from the palace area.
Felix gave Jonas a grim look. “Must have been some speech.”
“We need to get back,” Jonas said.
They hurried back to the palace without another word. Jonas’s heart pounded fast and hard as he caught a man’s shoulder going past him.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“The king!” the man said, his face pale and his eyes round. “The king is dead!”
Jonas stared after him as the man scurried away.
Once they reached the palace, they found it in chaos. Every guard they passed had his sword drawn, ready for battle.
“It can’t be true,” Jonas said as the pair rushed through the corridors. “I don’t believe it.”
They found Nerissa walking swiftly down the hallway that led to their bedchambers.