Falling Kingdoms

by Morgan Rhodes

  “Be gone,” she said harshly.

  He didn’t move from his perch.

  “I know who you are. I know you’ve been here many times before.” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s you, isn’t it, brother? None of the others would bother with me now.”

  His sister, Eirene, had left the Sanctuary more than fifty mortal years ago. Then she’d been beautiful and young and full of life and would have stayed that way eternally. But now, beyond the veil, she’d become wrinkled, hunched over, and gray from age and hard work.

  She’d made her choice. Once one left the Sanctuary, one could never return.

  “Are you aware of the war that rages right now?” she asked. Ioannes wasn’t certain if she really believed that he was her brother or if she was slightly mad—a woman who talked to birds. “It will end with blood and death as all wars do. The King of Blood searches for the same thing as you, I know it. Do you think you’ll find it before he does?”

  He couldn’t reply to her, so he didn’t bother trying.

  “The girl was born. She lives, brother. I saw it in the stars years ago—but you likely know this already. She can find the Kindred. The elders will be pleased to have all restored to normal.”

  Eirene’s expression soured. “Without the crystals, the Sanctuary will fade away. I see it in this land. It’s all connected. Everything is connected, brother, even more than I ever believed it was.” She laughed, but there was no humor to the sound. “Perhaps it’s for the best. If I’m to die a mortal, why shouldn’t the same fate be given to all, no matter how long they’ve lived or how important they think they are? All things must eventually come to an end.”

  Eirene had left the Sanctuary because she’d fallen in love with a mortal. She’d turned her back on immortality for the chance at love. She believed a handful of years that contained passion and life was better than an endless pristine existence. He’d been disgusted by her weakness then. For a Watcher, fifty years was only a breath of time.

  “Beware of one thing, brother.” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she was about to return to her small cottage. “Don’t overestimate your ability to deal with mortals, even the pretty ones. After two thousand years, it could finally be the death of you.”

  He still hadn’t told Danaus, Timotheus, or even Phaedra about the beautiful dark-haired princess’s magic. She was too important, and Ioannes had begun to trust fewer of his kind in recent months. He had to continue to keep watch over her. He had to find the right time to communicate with her.

  And, very soon, he would have to find a way to kill her.

  Victory was theirs. The king of Auranos had been killed. The eldest princess and heir to the throne was found dead in her chambers. But there was still a loose end. Princess Cleiona had escaped the palace.

  For such a young and seemingly innocuous girl, she was very wily.

  If Magnus ever came face-to-face with her again, she wouldn’t slip through his fingers a third time. He didn’t like being frustrated. He also didn’t like the splinter of guilt that had worked its way under his skin over the relentless tragedy that had befallen the girl—both her father and sister’s deaths, as well as the guard who’d protected her in Paelsia. The one she’d said she loved. The one Magnus had killed with his own sword.

  Irrelevant. It was done. And there was nothing he could do to change it even if he wanted to.

  Magnus hadn’t told his father that he’d come close to capturing her again. He didn’t think the second failure when it came to the princess would earn him any favor with the king. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt the king’s celebrations. Magnus was the only other person invited to the private dinner in his father’s heavily guarded tent between King Gaius and Chief Basilius. They toasted their mutual victory with the finest Paelsian wine.

  Magnus abstained. He was too concerned with Lucia’s health to be in the right frame of mind to celebrate. She still lay unconscious, hours after her magic broke through the front doors of the castle ensuring their victory. The force of the explosion had also knocked him out, but when he came to minutes later, he was only shaken, not injured.

  Lucia, however, was covered in blood. Out of his mind with panic, Magnus carried her to the medics. By the time he’d arrived, her cuts and abrasions had miraculously—or magically—faded away completely. But she remained unconscious.

  The medics, baffled, told him that she needed rest and that she would wake eventually. While he waited, he’d prayed to the goddess Valoria to bring Lucia back. His sister believed in the goddess with all her heart. He didn’t, but he was willing to give it a try.

  Two hundred people—from all three kingdoms—had been killed in the explosion. But Lucia lived. And for that Magnus was grateful.

  Over twelve hours now and he’d heard nothing new about her. It was dinnertime and the king and the chief clinked their glasses, laughing over their victory and toasting to the bright future. Magnus sat with them at the table, his food untouched.

  “Oh, my son,” the king said, smiling. “Always so serious, even now.”

  “I’m worried about Lucia.”

  “My darling secret weapon.” The king beamed. “Every bit as powerful as I always hoped she’d be. Impressive, yes?”

  “Very,” the chief agreed, downing his fourth glass of wine. “And a beautiful girl. If I had sons, I think we could make a fine match between our lands.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Speaking of . . . ” The chief glanced at Magnus. “I do have a daughter who is yet unspoken for. She’s only twelve, but she would make an excellent wife.”

  Magnus tried to keep the look of disgust off his face. The thought of a bride so young made him utterly nauseous.

  “You never know what the future may bring,” his father said, running his finger around the edge of his wineglass. “So I suppose we should give some thought to how to deal with the spoils of war. The coming days and weeks are going to be very interesting.”

  “We must appoint representatives to ensure that everything remains equal as we discussed. Of course, I trust that Limeros will be honest in its dealings with us.”

  “Of course.”

  “So much here, so many riches. Gold, treasures, resources. Fresh water. Forests. Fields upon fields of crops. A land teeming with game. It’s a paradise.”

  “Yes,” the king said. “And, of course, there is the matter of the Kindred.”

  The chief raised a dark, bushy eyebrow. “You believe in the Kindred?”

  “Don’t you?”

  The chief drained his next glass. “Of course. I have searched for signs of its location through years of meditation, sending my own magic out across the miles to try to sense where it could be.”

  “Have you had any luck?” the king asked.

  The chief waved a hand. “I feel I am close to something.”

  “I believe they’re here in Auranos,” King Gaius said evenly.

  “Do you? What gives you that impression?”

  “Auranos flourishes, green and lush, like the legendary Sanctuary itself, while Paelsia wastes away and Limeros turns to ice. Simple deduction, really.”

  As the chief considered this, he swirled the remaining amber-colored wine around in his glass. “Others have considered the same thing. I’m not sure I necessarily believe that. I believe the carved stone wheels found in Limeros and Paelsia point to clues of its location.”

  “Perhaps,” King Gaius allowed. “But to have taken this land from King Corvin is to possess everything the land contains with unrestricted access to tear it apart in my search. To find even one crystal would mean endless magic—but to possess them all...”

  The chief nodded, his eyes lighting with greed. “We could become gods. Yes, this is good. We will find them together, and we will split them down the middle—fifty-fifty.” />
  “You like that plan?”

  “I like it very much.”

  “You know, your people already consider you their god. Enough to pay you blood sacrifice and enough wine tax to support your comfortable lifestyle.” King Gaius leaned back in his chair. “They believe you’re a great sorcerer descended from the Watchers themselves who will soon rise up and deliver them all from squalor.”

  The chief spread his hands. “Without my people I am nothing.”

  “I have known you for some time now and I have yet to see a spark of this magic.”

  A glimmer of unfriendliness moved over the chief’s face. “You haven’t known me that long. Perhaps one day I will show you my true power.”

  Magnus watched his father carefully. There was something strange going on here that he wasn’t quite understanding, but he knew better than to speak. When the king had asked him to be a part of this dinner meeting and celebration, he’d specifically told Magnus that he was only there to observe and to learn.

  “When do we begin our search for the Kindred?” the chief asked. Both his plate and wineglass now empty.

  “I intend on beginning immediately,” the king replied.

  “And which two elements do you wish to possess?”

  “Two? I wish to possess all four.”

  The chief frowned. “All four? How is that splitting things fifty-fifty?”

  “It’s not.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. And that’s just...sad, really.” A smile stretched across the king’s face.

  The chief stared at him for a moment, a drunken glaze in his eyes thanks to the two bottles of wine he’d drunk. Then he started to laugh. “You nearly had me. No, Gaius. I trust you to hold true to your word. We are like brothers after the blood sacrifice of your bastard. I don’t forget.”

  “Neither do I.” The king’s smile held as he got to his feet and moved to the other side of the table. “Time for rest. Tomorrow is a bright new day. I’ve had enough of tents. We shall move into the castle. Much finer quarters there.”

  He offered his hand to Chief Basilius, who still chuckled over their amusing exchange. He took the king’s hand and got to his feet, unsteadily. “A fine meal. Your cooks are to be commended.”

  King Gaius watched him. “Show me some magic. Just a little. I feel I’ve earned this.”

  The chief patted his belly. “Not tonight. I am too full for such displays.”

  “Very well.” The king extended his hand again. “Good night, my friend.”

  “Good night.” He clasped the king’s hand and shook it.

  King Gaius pulled him closer. “I believed the stories. The ones of you being a sorcerer. I’ve seen enough magic not to doubt such tales until I have enough evidence to disprove it. I must admit, there was some fear. While I am a man of action, I don’t possess any magic of my own. Not yet.”

  The chief’s brows drew together. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “Yes,” King Gaius said. “That’s exactly what I’m calling you.”

  Taking the dagger he’d concealed in his other hand, King Gaius slashed the chief’s throat in one smooth, quick motion.

  The chief’s eyes bugged out with surprise and pain and he staggered back from the king.

  “If you’re really a sorcerer,” the king said coolly, “heal yourself.”

  Magnus gripped the edge of the table but didn’t make a move. Every muscle in his body had grown tense at the exchange.

  Blood spurted from between the chief’s fingers. His panicked gaze shot toward the tent’s entrance, which was guarded only by King Gaius’s men. His trust had allowed him to come in here with no bodyguards nearby.

  “Oh, and that fifty-fifty deal of ours?” the king said with a thin smile. “It was for a limited time only. Auranos is mine. And now, so is Paelsia.”

  The chief looked completely shocked by this turn of events before he collapsed to the floor with a heavy thump. The king nudged his shoulder so the chief turned over onto his back, his eyes wide and glazed, blood oozing from the gaping wound at his throat.

  Magnus fought against the urge to leap back . In a way, he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. He’d been waiting for his father to turn the tables on the chief for a while now.

  When the king flicked a look at his son as if to gauge his reaction to this, all he saw was a mildly bored expression on the prince’s face.

  “Come, now. You’re not impressed at all?” He let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Oh, Magnus, you’ve got to give me a little credit.”

  “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or concerned,” Magnus said evenly. “For all I know, you might do the same thing to me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m doing all of this for you, Magnus. Together we will find the Kindred—it’s been my life’s goal from the time I was a boy and first heard the tales. To find all four will give us ultimate power. We can rule the universe itself.”

  A shiver moved down Magnus’s spine at the maniacal look in his father’s eyes. “I can’t say that my father doesn’t have scope.”

  “Clear and precise. Now”—the king moved toward the entrance to the large and luxurious tent—“let us inform the people of Auranos and Paelsia that their leaders are dead and they now must bow before me. Or die.”

  “Just once,” Brion said under his breath, “I would have liked you to be wrong.”

  Jonas glanced at him. “I’ve been wrong lots of times.”

  “Not this time.”

  “No. Not this time.”

  They stood at the edge of the forest and watched as the chief’s blood-covered body was strung up for all to see. The Limerian king flaunted the murder as a symbol of the chief’s weakness. He was no sorcerer or god as his people had always believed. He was only a man.

  A dead man.

  After his death last night, the Limerian army had turned their blades on the same Paelsians they’d previously fought with side by side. Those who refused to bow down before King Gaius immediately had their throats slashed or their heads severed completely and put on spikes. Most bowed and pledged allegiance to Limeros. Most were afraid to die.

  With every moment he’d been forced to witness this atrocity, Jonas’s heart grew darker. Not just Auranos, but Paelsia had fallen to these greedy and deceptive Limerian monsters led by their king of blood and death. It was everything he’d feared.

  He’d grabbed Brion just in time. His friend had been faced with a Limerian’s sword, and by the fierce and insolent look on Brion’s face, he wasn’t going to bow before King Gaius. As the knight raised his blade, ready to remove Brion’s head, Jonas killed him, grabbed Brion, and fled.

  He’d killed many since this war began. He’d considered himself a hunter before this, but of animals, not men. Now his blade had found the hearts of many men. What little inside him was still a boy of only seventeen years had hardened to compensate for this. Each time he killed, it became easier and the faces of the men whose lives he took became less distinguishable from each other. But this was not the path he ever would have chosen for himself had he known where it would ultimately lead.

  Together, Brion and Jonas had found other boys they recognized from their country, those who refused to surrender to this madness. There was now a group of six of them, all gathered in the protection of the forest.

  “So what now?” Brion asked, his expression grim and haunted. “What can we do but watch and wait? If we go out there again, we’ll be slaughtered.”

  Jonas thought of his brother. Since his murder, everything had changed. A life of hardship and squalor in Paelsia paled in comparison to the horrors that lay ahead.“We need to wait and see what happens next,” Jonas finally said.

  “So we’re supposed to stand back like cowards?” Brion growle
d. “And let King Gaius destroy our land? Slaughter our people?”

  The idea of it made Jonas’s stomach clench. He hated feeling powerless. He wanted to act now, but he knew that would only get them all killed. “The chief made many mistakes. He’s gone now. And, if you ask me, he was a lousy leader. We needed someone who was strong and capable, not one who would so easily be fooled by someone like King Gaius.” Jonas’s jaw was tight. “Basilius’s defeat sickens me. Because of his greed and stupidity, the rest of us must suffer.”

  The other four boys gathered around grumbled about the unfairness of it all.

  “But we’ve always survived despite the odds stacked against us.” Jonas raised his voice to be heard above the others. “Paelsia has been dying for generations. But we still live.”

  “It’s King Gaius’s now,” a boy named Tarus said. The kid wasn’t much more than fourteen and was the older brother of the boy Jonas witnessed die on the battlefield. “He’s destroyed us and now he owns us.”

  “Nobody owns us. You hear me? Nobody.” Jonas remembered his brother’s words all those years ago. “If you want something, you have to take it. Because nobody’s ever going to give it to you. So we’re going to take back what’s been taken from us. And then we’ll create a better future for Paelsia. A better future for us all.”

  “How?”

  “He hasn’t a clue,” Brion said, actually smiling now for the first time in days. “But he’s going to do it anyway.”

  Jonas could help but grin back. His friend was right. He would figure out how to fix this. There was not a doubt in his mind.

  Jonas cast a look toward the Auranian palace. While it glittered golden under the sun, part of it still burned from the explosion at dawn yesterday. A black cloud of smoke rose up above it.

  He’d heard the reports. The king was dead. The eldest princess, Emilia, was also dead. However, Princess Cleo hadn’t yet been found.

  When he’d heard this news, he was surprised at the lifting of his heavy heart.

  The girl whom he’d blamed for his brother’s death, the one he’d fantasized about killing to gain vengeance, the one who’d cunningly managed to escape her own fate, her shackles, and a locked and guarded shed.