Jonas woke to find his sister shaking him.
“It’s dawn,” she said. “Your girlfriend is awake. Time for both of you to get out of my home.”
CHAPTER 23
MAGNUS
PAELSIA
Magnus knew he’d never beg for anything in his life: not for mercy, not for forgiveness, and not for a second chance. Yet all he wanted to do was go after Cleo to try to make her understand.
Bloody Nic. If the stupid boy had managed to finally get himself killed, this recent rift with Cleo meant that Magnus couldn’t even celebrate such an occasion.
He took a step toward the stairs.
“No,” his grandmother’s voice stopped him. “Let her go. Pursuing her immediately will only make matters worse. Trust me.”
Magnus turned to see Selia standing in the doorway, regarding him curiously.
“I wasn’t aware our discussion was being overheard,” he said.
“My dear, even the deaf could have overheard that”—she cocked her head—“discussion, did you call it?”
“Apologies, Selia, but I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
“I’d much rather you call me Grandmother, like you used to when you were a little boy.”
Again, he turned toward the stairs, waiting to see if a miracle might happen and Cleo might return to him. “I’ll call you whatever I like.”
“You are surprisingly stern and serious for such a young man, even a Limerian, aren’t you? Then again, you were raised by Althea, so I’m not terribly surprised. I don’t remember ever seeing that woman smile.”
“Did my father happen to mention to you that he had her killed? And then he lied and told me that his mistress Sabina was my true mother?”
“No,” she said simply, twisting the silver snake pendant at her throat. “This is the first I’m hearing of this.”
“And you think it odd that I’m not laughing joyfully day in and day out when we’re at war with an entire empire that threatens to destroy us all?”
“Of course you’re right. Forgive me—my thoughts have been elsewhere.”
“I envy your thoughts.”
Selia pursed her lips. “You should know that your father will not survive the night. He will be claimed entirely by death by morning. Do you care?”
Magnus didn’t say anything to this. No thought came to his mind, good or bad.
He’d imagined he would celebrate this moment, the impending death of a man he’d hated for as long as he could remember.
“He loves you,” Selia said, as if reading his thoughts. “Whether you believe it or not, I know it’s true. You and Lucia are the most important parts of his life.”
He didn’t have time for such nonsense. “Really? I could have sworn it was his lust for power that was most important to him.”
“When on the very edge of death, matters such as fortune and legacy are meaningless in the face of knowing that someone who cares for you will hold your hand as you slip away.”
“I’ll have to remember that when I’m on the edge of death.” Magnus glared at her. “Apologies, but is there something you require from me? Because if you’re asking me to go upstairs and hold my father’s hand while he dies, leaving me to fix this mess he’s made, I’ll have to strongly decline.”
“No. What I want from you is to accompany me to the tavern this evening to meet with my friend Dariah.”
Magnus’s breath caught and held. “The bloodstone.”
She nodded. “I want you there by my side.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s important to me, that’s why. I know you have doubts about the choices I’ve made in the past, but one day soon I know you’ll understand.”
Magnus would go with her tonight. Not for matters of love, since those had locked themselves away in a small bedroom upstairs in a fit of anger and grief.
No, he would go because, in this uncertain time, the bloodstone sounded like a piece of magic worth killing for.
Magnus waited for Cleo to emerge from the bedroom, but she never did. When the sun set, he reluctantly left the Hawk and Spear Inn with Selia at his side. By now, he’d become quite accustomed to the Purple Vine. From its entrance, he could see the sea sparkling under the moonlight, the ships docked at port spilling their crews into the city. Basilia seemed more alive at night than during the day, when there was business to attend to. At night, all those who had toiled during the day now wished to drink and eat and pay attention to other base desires, all of which were catered to within a modest stroll from the docks.
The tavern was packed wall to wall with boisterous patrons, most of whom were already blindingly drunk by the time Magnus and Selia arrived. Still, Magnus wore his hood close around his face to shield his identity. He couldn’t risk being recognized again.
Selia led the way to a table in the far corner, seated at which were a beautiful, young auburn-haired woman and a man with bronze-colored hair that reached his shoulders and eyes the shade of copper coins.
It was a man Magnus recognized immediately.
At the sight of him, the memories of the road camp in the Forbidden Mountains of Paelsia flooded his mind. This man—an exiled Watcher—had been stationed there so that he could infuse the road with the magic required to pinpoint the four points in Mytica where the Kindred would be awakened.
Magnus had not spoken directly to the man at the time, but he’d watched him steal the life from another exile during a rebel attack.