Jonas nodded weakly. “The man she was with, he murdered Lys. She tried to protect me, so he blasted her with fire. And then she was . . . just . . . gone.”

The pain in Jonas’s voice was a living thing. Magnus felt its sharp claws dig deeply into his chest.

Lucia and the man who’d tried to kill him with fire magic had been haunting his dreams ever since her visit.

“He must be a powerful witch,” Magnus said.

“I don’t think he’s a witch,” said Nic, his earlier bravado all but disappeared. “I’ve seen him twice now and it . . . he seems much more powerful than that. Princess Lucia must have claimed the fire Kindred. And somehow she and Kyan figured out how use its magic. He’s in control of it now.”

Magnus remembered the elemental wildfire that had broken out during the rebel attack on the road camp in eastern Paelsia. Whenever the fire touched a person, its flames burned blue, then shattered its victim like an ice sculpture.

To think that this power was out there, controlled by someone traveling with his sister . . .

“Why did you go there?” Magnus asked when he’d found his voice. “What did Princess Cleo want you to find for her there?”

“Cleo had nothing to do with it,” Nic insisted. “We were visiting a market to search for a gift, just like I said. That’s all.”

Magnus could have the boy tortured, beaten, put into isolation—but he knew his story would never change. As for Jonas, he was already half dead by the look of him.

If the rebel had truly been broken by this, he’d be of no use to Magnus at all.

“What about our deal?” Magnus asked, looking directly at Jonas.

He lifted his gaze. “You’re choosing now, of all times, to ask me about that?”

“I am. And I demand an answer.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know about anything anymore.”

“I empathize with your pain, Agallon, I truly do. But this is a new day, which will be followed by another and then another after that. Your friend is dead, and that’s a tragedy, but nothing else has changed. Do you remember what you agreed to?”

“Yes.”

“And are we still in agreement?”

There was an extended silence, through which Magnus waited patiently.

“We are,” Jonas finally said.

Magnus summoned the guards back into the tower. “Unchain these two, feed them, clean them up, and bring them to me in the throne room. We have an important matter to discuss.”

• • •

Jonas and Nic were brought into the throne room, both wearing fresh clothes and no longer smelling like they’d been traveling for days without a wash.

“Sit,” Magnus instructed.

Jonas took a seat, then Nic reluctantly did the same.

Magnus pushed aside a stack of papers and picked up a message he’d received by raven that very morning. He slid it toward Nic. “Read it. Out loud.”

With a sullen look on his face, Nic picked up the message, squinting at it in the dim late afternoon light.

Your Highness, Prince Magnus Damora,

Since I’m currently in Kraeshia, let me be as blunt as its people. I have been working as your father’s bodyguard during his trip here. He has offered the air Kindred to Emperor Cortas in exchange for sharing power over all of Mytica and Kraeshia.

Nic paused, then looked up. “The king has the air Kindred?”

Jonas had gone completely pale. “Keep reading,” he said, and Nic went on.

Should the emperor refuse, believe me when I tell you that both you and your kingdom will be at great risk. I strongly advise you to respond to this message immediately, as well as send a representative here to Kraeshia as soon as possible. Mytica will need all the support it can get right now.

I’ve included a piece of evidence to prove that I’m no longer loyal to King Gaius and his ruthless greed.

With great hope for the future under your rule,

Felix Graebas

Nic unfolded the last length of the message and pulled out what looked like a small, dry piece of parchment. He held it up to the light. “What is this?”

Jonas moved toward Nic to get a closer look at it. His eyes widened with shock. “Flayed skin. With a tattoo on it.”

Nic dropped the piece of skin onto the tabletop.

Magnus nodded. “That is the official Clan of the Cobra mark—a group of skilled assassins who work specifically for my father. Felix must have sliced it off his own arm.”

Finally, a small spark of life returned to Jonas’s gaze. “I know Felix.”

“You know him?” Magnus’s gaze snapped to the rebel’s. “How?”

“I thought he was a friend before I learned about his ties to your father. We had a . . . falling-out, and then he took off, back to the king who gave him the assignment to infiltrate my group.”

“Small world,” Magnus said, now unsure of the true intentions behind this message. “And proof enough that he isn’t trustworthy.”

“Two weeks ago I might have agreed with you,” said Jonas, eyeing the tattoo and shaking his head. “But not now. Felix had decided to leave the Clan when he joined me, seeking redemption for his past. He was a true friend, and all I did was let him down.” He went silent for a moment. “I believe he’s telling the truth.”

Magnus sat down heavily in his chair and pressed his hands flat atop the table. It seemed that he and Jonas agreed on something. What an odd development.

His father was in Kraeshia with the emperor, conducting secret negotiations. And to think that, in his mind, Magnus was the traitor.

To rule the world was exactly what Gaius Damora wanted. And now he had the air Kindred.

Lucia and Kyan had the fire Kindred.

Amara had stolen the water Kindred.

That left only the earth Kindred unaccounted for.

“Agallon, you will go to Kraeshia as my representative to speak with Felix and his new group of rebels,” Magnus announced. “And then you’ll find my father and put a dagger through his heart.”

It was the only way this could end.

“Will you do this?” Magnus asked after all had gone utterly silent at the table.

Jonas nodded. “I will.”

“Good. You’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

CHAPTER 21

CLEO

LIMEROS

Roused from slumber, Cleo opened her eyes to find her room in shadows, and the sky outside her window still dark save for the light of the moon.

“Princess,” whispered an urgent voice. “I’m sorry to disturb you so early.”

A lantern’s blaze cut through the darkness, bringing the face of Cleo’s confidante into view.

She wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat up in bed. “What is it, Nerissa? Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure ‘wrong’ is quite the correct word . . . but there’s something I knew you’d want to know, and it can’t wait until morning.”

“Tell me.”

Nerissa sat on the edge of the bed. “Jonas and Nic returned yesterday.”

“What? Why am I not hearing this until now?”

“The prince got to them first and didn’t want you to know.”

Oh, no. A thousand different scenarios of how their return might have played out burst into her head at once.