“Where?” Ashur said, his tone sharp. “She’s been gone a week with no message. She is on her own quest, Magnus, one that doesn’t align with ours.”
“You’re wrong!” Magnus threw the words at Ashur like weapons, hoping to inflict injury. “My sister won’t abandon us. Not now. Not when I need her the most.”
But he had to admit, in his heart, he didn’t believe this anymore.
Lucia was gone, and he didn’t know when and if she’d ever return.
And Cleo . . .
He turned to her. Her earnest, hopeful expression crushed his heart.
He roared out in anger, grabbed hold of a heavy wooden table, and flipped it over.
Bruno staggered back, horrified.
Magnus’s current increased strength—strength he’d had since crawling out of his own grave—was courtesy of the bloodstone.
Powerful death magic existed within the ring on his finger. But death magic couldn’t help Cleo.
“Magnus,” Cleo said sharply, pulling him from his thoughts. “I need to speak with you in private. Now.”
He knew she was angry with him for scaring Bruno, for acting disrespectful and ungrateful toward Ashur. For wanting to crush anything that stood in the way of finding the answers he needed to save the girl standing before him.
To hell with rest of the world; Cleo was all he cared about.
Sullenly, he followed her to a room in the inn that Bruno swiftly provided for them.
“What do you have to say to me privately?” he said when she closed the door. “Do you wish to scold me for my behavior out there? To make me see reason and embrace hope like you do? To make me believe that we still have a chance to make this right again?”
“No,” she replied simply.
He frowned. “No?”
Cleo shook her head. “There’s nothing right about this.”
Magnus inhaled deeply. “I acted like a bully to Bruno.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I think I scared him.”
She nodded. “You can be very scary.”
“Yes. And I can also be scared. And I am, right now.” Magnus took her hands in his, his gaze locking with hers. “I want to help you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I know.”
“What do we do, Cleo?” He hated the weakness that had crept into his voice. “How am I supposed to save you from this?”
She frowned. “It’s talking to me right now—the water Kindred. It wants me to leave you, to return to Kyan. It says that I’ve made him incredibly angry for leaving when he’d been trying to help me.”
Magnus took her by her shoulders and stared deep into her blue-green eyes. “Listen to me, demon. You need to get out of my wife now. Do so of your own volition and find another body to steal—I don’t really give a damn who it is. But leave Cleo alone, or I swear I will destroy you!”
Cleo’s frown deepened. “It finds you amusing.”
Magnus had never hated anything so much in his entire life, nor had he ever felt so powerless. “I don’t know what to do.”
She took his hand in hers. “Wait . . . Nic . . . he told me that when you found Kyan in the forest, after you escaped from the grave, you touched him. And that—whatever you did—is what jarred him awake and allowed him to start fighting Kyan for control.” Cleo held up his hand. “It’s because of this ring. It has to be.”
“Yes,” he whispered, thinking hard. “I know.”
“Elementia is life magic,” she said. “And whatever this is, wherever it came from, it’s the opposite.”
He nodded. “So what? I’ll ask Kyan to try this ring on and see what happens?”
“No,” she said immediately. “He’d kill you before you get within three paces of him.”
Magnus met her gaze. “It might be worth the risk.”
“You will not do that,” she said firmly. “We will find another way.”
“You think it’s that easy?”
“I know it’s not.” She bit her bottom lip, then moved to the window that looked out at the Viridy street outside the inn, already busy with citizens emerging from their homes for the start of a new day. “Tell me, Magnus, do you ever wish you could go back to before all of this? When life was normal?”
“No,” he replied.
She turned a look of surprise on him. “Just no?”
“Just no.”
“Why?”
“Because far too much has changed for me to wish for exactly how it was before.” Magnus allowed himself a moment to think of life before war, before the Kindred, and before Cleo. He hadn’t been happy, even then. He’d been lost, searching for meaning in his life, half-aspiring to be like his father, half-wishing his father were dead. “Besides, I don’t really think the two of us would have gotten along very well before.” He raised a brow at her. “You were an insufferable, vacuous party girl, from what I’ve heard.”
“True.” She laughed. “And you were a cold, brooding jackass with feelings for your sister.”
Magnus cringed. “Times change.”
“Indeed they do.”
“I remember you, you know,” he said softly. “When we were only children. From the visit when I got this . . .” Magnus brushed his fingers over his scar. “You were a shining light even at . . . what? Four or five years old?” He pictured the small golden-haired princess that had captured his attention and interest, even as a young boy. “I had a fantasy for a time that I would come to live with you and your family instead of my own.”
Cleo’s eyes widened. “Really?”
He nodded, the long-repressed memory coming back to him vividly. “In fact, once I ran away from home and got into a great deal of trouble with that goal in mind. My father . . .” He sighed. “My father was not kind. Not even on his kindest day.”
“Your father loved you. In his own way.” Cleo smiled at him. “And I know for a fact your mother loved you very much.”
He raised a brow. “What makes you say that?”
“She told me once that she would kill me if I ever hurt you.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “That sounds like my mother.”
A shadow crossed her expression, and her smile fell away. “I went on to hurt you quite a lot.”
“And I you, far too many times to count.” Magnus took her hands in his, pulling her closer to him. “We will figure this out, Cleo. I swear that to you.”
He leaned in to kiss her, needing to feel her lips against his, but was interrupted by a loud bang on the other side of the tavern.
“So much for our private discussion,” he said with annoyance.
He crossed the room and opened the door, shocked at who stood on the other side.
It was Enzo, his face bloody, half the hair on his head burned off.
The guard fell to his knees, gasping for breath, a rolled-up piece of parchment dropping from his grip.
Cleo was at his side in an instant, helping him to his feet. Magnus reached down to grab the parchment.
“Enzo!” Cleo gasped. “What happened to you?”
“Kyan knows where you are,” Enzo managed. “He can sense you because the water Kindred is inside you. You’re all connected.”
Heart pounding, Magnus crossed the room to look out the window, searching for any sign of their enemy. “Where is he now?”
“He’s not here,” Enzo said. “He sent me with this message. For you, princess.”