His uncertainty when she kissed him.
And his pain when she pulled the truth out of him, brutally and against his will.
This is who I am now, dear brother, she thought. This is who I was always meant to be.
With this affirmation, she was finally claimed by a sleep she prayed would be dreamless.
Unfortunately, her prayers were not answered.
In her dream, she stood in a meadow. But not any ordinary meadow. This was a meadow in the Sanctuary, the same one where she’d met Alexius, also in a dream.
Apples as shiny red as rubies hung from the surrounding trees, the sky was as bright as a sapphire, and the ever-brilliant sun shone down on the splendor all around her.
It was the last place she wanted to be.
A hawk circled high above her head, then descended and perched in a nearby tree.
It isn’t Alexius.
It can’t be.
Still, a small part of her heart had been holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, he could still visit her. When immortals ceased to be, their bodies returned to the elemental magic from which they’d been created. They didn’t leave behind a corpse unless they’d lived as a mortal for many years.
Was it possible he could still contact her through her dreams?
She approached the bird tentatively. “Alexius?”
The hawk cocked its head, then vanished before her eyes.
“I’m very sorry to say that no, I’m not Alexius.”
Lucia spun around. Standing before her in the meadow was a young man wearing white robes like those of a high priest. But most priests Lucia had ever known were old and wrinkled and ugly—not like this man, who was every bit as beautiful as Alexius had been.
“Beautiful, am I?” he said.
She gasped. “You can read minds.”
“Only in dreams. Like yours right now.”
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“I think you already know the answer to that question,” he said, walking a slow circle around her.
“Timotheus.”
He nodded, smiling slightly. “And you are Lucia Eva Damora, the princess of Limeros. The sorceress reborn. The king gave you Eva’s name. How predictable.”
So here he was, the creature who’d imprisoned Kyan and kept him apart from his family for countless centuries. A monster as cruel and evil as Melenia had been.
Her fists lit up with fire and she narrowed her eyes. “You made a mistake drawing me into this dream.”
“Oh, don’t insult me, child.” He flicked his wrist and her fire went out.
She looked down at her hands and, hiding her dismay, tried to reignite her fire magic. But she couldn’t even summon a spark.
“Let’s take care to understand each other from the beginning,” Timotheus said. “You have no power here. I am in control of this dream.”
“This is my dream. And I want to wake up.”
For a long silent moment, Timotheus said nothing, did nothing, except stand before her and watch her. Finally, in a calm, even tone, he spoke. “I never understood why Alexius was so smitten with you. So far you’ve done nothing to impress me. They say you’re as powerful as Eva? Even if you spent the next five centuries living and breathing nothing but elementia, you would only be a fraction as great as she was.”
She lunged forward, trying to hit him. If she couldn’t use her magic she’d happily use brute force. But when she swung her fist, she hit not Timotheus, but an invisible surface, solid and hard as rock.
She cried out as unimaginable pain shot up her arm.
“How dare you!” She reached for him, fighting against futility to try to scratch and claw at his face, but the invisible, magical barrier he’d manifested prevented her from touching him.
“Stop acting like an infant.”
He flicked his wrist again, sending her flying backward and slamming, hard, into a rough, thick tree trunk and knocking the breath clean out of her lungs.
“Just let me go!” she gasped. “Let me wake up! I don’t want to be here with you. This meadow was for me and Alexius, and all you’re doing is destroying it.”
Timotheus stared down at her with his eyes like churning, molten gold, filling her with disgust. “Alexius gave up his immortality to be with you.”
“At Melenia’s request.”
“You make theirs sound like a friendly partnership. Melenia used him.”
“And he let her!”
“My, you’re stubborn. Fine. I won’t sully your memories of this imaginary location another moment.” Suddenly the air began to swim and shimmer, and the scene around them began to shift and change.
Lucia stood up and found herself in the ice gardens of the Limerian palace. Standing before her was Timotheus, wearing a black cloak, leather boots, and the same hateful expression she remembered from the meadow.
“Now that I’ve proved I’m in control here,” Timotheus said, “we can begin.”
“Begin what?” she snarled.
“What has the fire Kindred told you? What does he say he wants?”
“Fire Kindred?” She offered him a thin smile. “I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Does he think you can kill me?”
“Why would anyone want to kill you, Timotheus?” she asked. “I honestly can’t imagine that, given how kindly and respectfully you’ve treated me so far.”
“Has he told you what he plans to do after I’m dead?”
She inhaled deeply, ignoring her racing heart. “Your questions are meaningless to me and I’m not answering any of them.”
“You killed Melenia,” Timotheus said, not a trace of a question in his tone.
“Are you sure about that?”
He studied her, ignoring her deflections. “You drained her of her magic. Alexius taught you that trick. Very clever of him. It seems he had more control over his free will than I thought.”
“How do you . . . ?” But then she stopped herself, because she suddenly realized how Timotheus knew about that night in the temple. In this dream, he could read her mind, so he could also see memories. Could all Watchers do this? Had Alexius possessed this skill as well?
“No, he didn’t,” Timotheus said, answering her silent question. “Though he would have been considered ancient in your world, Alexius was one of the youngest of our kind. I, however, am not so young. I am one of the first immortals created to protect the Kindred and all that lies beyond the Sanctuary.”
“So was Melenia,” she said.
He nodded. “There were six of us in the beginning.”
“Now you’re the only one left.” She cocked her head. “So much for immortality.”
“We are immortal. Not indestructible.”
“Much gratitude for the reminder,” Lucia said, her chest aching as she thought once again of Alexius.
“Kyan misleads you. He doesn’t care for you. He’s manipulating you to get to me.”
“He’s not manipulating me. I agreed to help him.”
“So it seems that Lucia Damora is capable of speaking the truth.” He shook his head, then looked at her with what Lucia recognized as pity. “You are filled with so much anger and pain and grief. Yet instead of letting those emotions run through you and make you stronger, you choose to unleash them on the rest of the world so that others might feel your pain as well.”