Rebel Spring

by Morgan Rhodes

  Moments later, a cool, familiar voice intruded into his grief. “Prince Magnus, I suppose you’ll be very glad to know of my safe return. I hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

  He didn’t reply. All he wanted was some privacy.

  Princess Cleo regarded him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her pale hair was loose, wavy past her shoulders to her waist.

  “I’m kidnapped by rebels, held as their prisoner for an entire week, escaped with only my wits to aid me, and you don’t even have a greeting for me upon my return?”

  “I will warn you, princess, that I’m not in the mood for foolishness right now.”

  “Neither am I, so I suppose we have something in common. And I thought there was nothing we shared.” Her gaze held not an edge of friendliness, but a tight smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

  “Smiling?” he managed. “Whatever have I done to deserve this? Or perhaps you’ve already heard the news to help brighten your day.”

  “News?”

  He felt impossibly weary. “The news of the queen’s death.”

  A frown creased her brow. “What?”

  “She was murdered by rebels.” He took in her unconcealed look of shock. “So there you go. Something for you to celebrate.”

  Magnus turned away from her, ready to find solace in his chambers, but the princess grabbed his arm to stop him. He sent a dark look at her over his shoulder.

  “I would never celebrate death, no matter whose it is,” she said, her gaze filled with anger and something else. Something that looked vaguely like sympathy.

  “Come now, I’m sure you wouldn’t mourn any Damora.”

  “I know very well what it’s like to lose a parent in a tragic way.”

  “Oh, yes, we have so much in common. Maybe we should get married.”

  She released him, her expression souring. “I was trying to be kind.”

  “Don’t try, princess. It doesn’t suit you. Besides, I don’t need or want your kindness or your sympathy. Both feel alarmingly false coming from you.”

  Something hot and wet slipped down his cheek. He swiped at the unbidden tear and turned his face away, appalled that she’d seen it.

  “I never would have believed you’d care so deeply for anyone,” she said softly.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Gladly.” But now she sounded uncertain, as if the sight of him crying over his dead mother had deeply confused her. “But, wait, before you go . . . I’m sorry to disturb you, I just don’t know who else to ask. I need to talk to my friend. To Mira. I can’t find her anywhere. I’m told she’s no longer Princess Lucia’s attendant. Do you know where she’s been reassigned?”

  He took five steps down the hall before she called out to him. “Prince Magnus, please!”

  He turned. At that moment, there was nothing in Cleo’s expression except the need for him to help her in some small way. She believed he could do that much.

  “Apologies, princess,” he said, holding her gaze, “but while you were gone my father took the life of your friend Mira for overhearing a private conversation. I do regret that he made that decision, but I can assure you her death was quick and painless.”

  Horror crossed her face. “What?”

  “She was taken away, her body burned, the bones buried in the servants’ graveyard. Again, I am sorry for your loss. There’s nothing to be done to fix this.”

  The sound of Cleo’s grief-filled wail followed him all the way back to his chambers.

  CHAPTER 18

  JONAS

  THE WILDLANDS

  That same hawk was back again, perched in the trees. She kept Jonas in sight for most hours of the day. Perhaps he was being paranoid, especially since he didn’t believe in legends . . . but, still.

  If she was a Watcher, then Jonas hoped she would approve of the plan he’d just laid out before his rebels, explaining how they would assassinate King Gaius and Prince Magnus at the princess’s wedding.

  “Let me get this straight.” Lysandra was the first to speak up when he was finished. “You won’t attack the Blood Road like I want, but you think you can march into the royal wedding at the Temple of Cleiona and kill both the king and the prince where they stand.”

  “That is what I said, isn’t it?”

  “I thought maybe I’d heard you wrong.”

  “Do you have a problem with my plan?”

  “Several problems, actually.” The girl looked stunned, as if he’d managed to take her by surprise. She stood next to Brion, who regarded him with bemusement.

  “Anyone else with problems?” Jonas turned in a circle to survey the rest of the group. The rebels spoke quietly to each other, eyeing him with varying expressions—from interest to awe to wariness. “Or is Lysandra the only one who always wants to oppose me on every decision I make?”

  “We were all nearly slaughtered by the king once already. You want him to have another chance at it?” a boy named Ivan said. Originally, Jonas had thought him someone with leadership qualities, but Ivan rarely took an order without debate and complaint. Everything was a fight with him. And the bravery he showed by his size and muscles didn’t seem to go much further than the surface.

  Ivan had a point, but it wasn’t a very good one. Not one rebel had fallen beneath the Limerian guards’ blades the night they’d invaded the camp, which was both a miracle and a relief. The plan to scatter and regroup at their secondary location had been a sound one. Jonas took this as a sign that they were meant to fight another day.

  Yes. Cleo’s wedding day.

  “This will work,” Jonas said, his voice loud enough for all fifty of his rebels gathered around to hear. “King Gaius will fall.”

  “Show him,” Lysandra said.

  Jonas frowned. “Show me what?”

  Brion stepped forward. He had a piece of parchment in his hand, which he unrolled and held up for Jonas to see.

  On it was a sketch of a dark-haired boy and a proclamation.

  JONAS AGALLON

  WANTED FOR KIDNAPPING AND MURDER

  LEADER OF THE PAELSIAN REBELS

  WHO OPPOSE THE GREAT AND NOBLE KING GAIUS’S

  RIGHTFUL REIGN OVER ALL OF MYTICA

  10,000 CENTIMOS REWARD

  DEAD OR ALIVE

  His mouth went dry. He handed it back casually. “Doesn’t look anything like me.”

  Lysandra made a disgusted grunting sound. “You see what we’re dealing with here? You’re famous.”

  “This means nothing. It stops nothing. Besides, I might be guilty of kidnapping, but I haven’t murdered anyone.” Not yet, anyway.

  “Do you think lies will stop the king? He means to end you, and he’s offered the greedy Auranians a reward to help pinpoint your location.”

  “For ten thousand centimos, I’m tempted to turn you in myself,” Brion said.

  Jonas snorted uneasily. “For ten thousand centimos, I’m tempted to turn myself in.”

  “This isn’t funny.” Lysandra gave both of them a dirty look.

  He had to agree; it wasn’t. But he wasn’t surprised that the king would do something like this. In fact, it was a good sign that the king had begun to consider the rebels a serious threat. If Jonas had to be the face—albeit a poorly sketched one—of the rebel resistance, then he would take on that mantle with pride.

  “I thought you wanted me to make a move like this, Lys,” Jonas said, trying to ease the anger he saw rising in her expression. “You’ve wanted us to attack the road camps ever since you joined us.”

  “And I saw for myself how unprepared for an attack of that magnitude we are. I know now that we can’t go in as a random assault, not with so few of us. We would be slaughtered if we don’t go in with a plan. So I’m working on just such a plan. I’m figuring out what point of the road is the weakest, where we could make the most
difference.”

  “You can’t say that it’s a bad move to take the king out, can you? If he’s dead, his road will cease construction. Agreed?”

  She glared at him. “I can agree on that much.”

  “Then there’s no problem.”

  “Wrong. There is. He needs to die, I agree. But this is to be your first act of true rebellion, beyond destroying frescos of his face? Suddenly, you’ve become a stealthy assassin, able to sneak into a heavily guarded temple and get close enough to sink a blade into both the king and the prince without anyone stopping you. Even with the offer of a reward for your capture plastered all across Auranos?”

  “Concerned for my safety.” He forced a grin that was far from genuine. “That’s so sweet of you.”

  “I know why you’re doing this.” Lysandra raised her voice for all to hear. “Our leader wants us all to saunter into a heavily guarded wedding so he can save his beloved damsel in distress.”

  “That’s not it.” The words hissed out from between Jonas’s clenched teeth. “This is to rid Paelsia of the King of Blood’s tyranny. To free our people. I thought that was what you wanted, just as the rest of us do, but now you’re trying to say anything to deter me?”

  “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be the greatest gift in the entire universe to watch the king die so he can pay for his atrocities. His death would be the answer to every problem we have.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I think you will fail,” she said flatly. “That unfortunately today your reach exceeds your grasp. And that you can’t see this for yourself because you’ve been blinded by golden hair and blue-green eyes.”

  Jonas had told not one person of the kiss in the cave with the princess—not even Brion. He still wasn’t sure what the kiss had meant, if anything. All he knew was that watching Cleo walk away into the guards’ camp was one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to do.

  The other rebels muttered to each other. Jonas couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t sound favorable to him. Lysandra was like the edge of a blade that could slice these rebels apart just when he needed them to stick together.

  “Enough squabbling, you two,” Brion growled. “It’s not helping anything. It never does.” He rolled up the reward parchment and tossed it into the campfire.

  “This has nothing to do with the princess,” Jonas snarled, but he knew it was at least partly a lie. After all, it had been Cleo’s idea—and he still believed it was a damn good one. “And I’m not going in blind. Nerissa’s information has been very useful. She has it on the authority of at least two of the king’s guards that the majority of security at the wedding will be outside for crowd control. Inside, there will be guests, temple attendants, the priest. A handful of guards at the most. I can get us in there to do what we have to do.”

  Lysandra crossed her arms over her chest. “How did Nerissa get such information? Oh, wait, let me guess. Did she seduce the guards? Does that girl have any other skill?”

  Seduction was Nerissa’s specialty. And now that she could never set foot in Hawk’s Brow again, after assisting Jonas with Cleo’s kidnapping, she was very eager to prove herself as an aid to the rebels. In fact, Nerissa had expressed a great interest in seducing Jonas himself. While he had declined her attentions, he’d been more than happy to put her expertise to use elsewhere.

  “Brion,” Jonas said under his breath. “A little help here?”

  “Nerissa hasn’t seduced me,” Brion said. “Well, not yet. I think she’s getting around to it eventually. I’m guessing she has a list.”

  “Brion.”

  His friend let out a long sigh. “Look, Jonas, I know you want to do this. That after so long of not taking a bold action like this, you’re itching to jump on any opportunity. But—I don’t know. I think Lys might be right on this one. It’s too risky right now. You have to see that, right?”

  Jonas stared at his friend as if seeing him for the first time. “Of course it’s risky. But if it works, it will mean everything.”

  “If it doesn’t, then . . . it means nothing. And you’ll be dead.”

  “You’re taking her side.”

  The patience was fading from Brion’s gaze. “It’s not a matter of taking sides. It’s an attempt to see the situation clearly.”

  “You used to be the first one to jump into a fight. What happened?” His temper and frustration had risen and with it his tactlessness. “Oh, wait. I know what happened. Lysandra happened.”

  Any remaining friendliness disappeared from Brion’s face. “That’s a low blow.”

  “You’re not thinking with your head when it comes to her. Sorry to break it to you, but taking her side isn’t going to make her fall in love with you. So you should stop following her around like a lost puppy.”

  He finally looked directly at his friend, just as Brion’s fist slammed right into his face. Jonas staggered back from him.

  “If I want your opinion,” Brion said in a growl, “I’ll beat it out of you.”

  Jonas swiped his hand beneath his nose. “Hit me again and we’re going to have a problem.”

  This time, Brion shoved Jonas so hard that he slammed into a tree trunk.

  Now the rebels were much more vocal than before.

  “Come on, Jonas! Don’t let him do that.”

  “Knock him out, Brion!”

  “Kick his arse! Let’s see some more blood!”

  Paelsians always did enjoy a good fight.

  “Stop it,” Jonas growled as Brion drew closer, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll stop you.”

  Brion had a tendency to brawl at any given moment, but he’d never once fought with Jonas. Despite the warning, Brion approached again, but Jonas was ready this time. He punched Brion in the stomach, then in his chin, knocking his friend backward and to the ground. Lysandra ran to the boy’s side, glaring at Jonas.

  “This doesn’t change the fact that I think she’s right and you’re wrong,” Brion managed to groan. “Feel free to go after the king at that wedding, but it’ll be at your own peril.”

  Jonas turned to the other rebels, furious now that his best friend, someone he considered a brother, refused to stand with him on this decision. “You know my plan. With or without help I will be at the royal wedding in four days. I will assassinate King Gaius myself. I welcome any volunteers who want to join me. After this, we won’t be put on reward signs; we will be held up as heroes. Think about it.”

  Then he turned his back on the lot of them and walked into the darkness of the thick forest to clear his head.

  CHAPTER 19

  LUCIA

  AURANOS

  Darkness became her world, and Lucia was left with two horrible thoughts that echoed, bouncing against each other over and over again.

  My mother thinks I’m evil.

  My mother wants me dead.

  Finally, after far too long waiting in the smothering emptiness, there was a dawning, and she found herself once again in the familiar lush, green meadow with its jeweled grass and crystalline trees.

  The Sanctuary.

  Or, rather, a dream version of the Sanctuary. But it felt so very real—from the warm breeze to the emerald grass beneath her bare feet, to the sight of the glittering city in the distance beneath the seemingly endless clear blue skies. So real it was difficult to tell the difference.

  She sensed Alexius’s presence behind her but didn’t turn.

  “You left me for far too long,” she said quietly.

  “Apologies, princess.”

  Before this, they’d had four shared dreams. Dreams in which they walked through this meadow, as far as the diamond-encrusted stone wheels, talking about everything. About Lucia’s childhood, about her relationship with Magnus and all its recent
complications, about her mother, about her father, about her magic. Perhaps she’d shared too much, but with Alexius, she felt . . . comfortable. Which was surprising, considering who and what he was. An immortal Watcher two thousand years old.

  She had never felt like this before. About anyone.

  He asked her questions about herself, so many questions. And she answered them. However, he was skilled in evading the questions she asked of him in return. She still didn’t know why he brought her here, and her mind was in a fog whenever she was in this meadow. Despite her best intentions, the gravity of what had transpired in her waking life seemed to fade away when she was here.

  Death. Destruction. Prophecies. Magic.

  She needed answers. Perhaps he had been purposefully evading her since the last dream—letting her stay adrift in sleep all this time.

  This, then, was her chance to find out more, and she would not let herself become distracted by this golden creature who made any other thoughts drop from her mind. Lucia turned to face him directly. “What do you want from me?”

  The beautiful boy smiled at her as if he couldn’t stop the expression from appearing on his face. “It’s good to see you too, princess.”

  Such a smile. Her gaze moved to his lips before snapping back to his silver eyes. “My mother wants to kill me because of my elementia.”

  His smile fell away. “I assure you, she will do nothing of the sort.”

  Lucia looked down at her hand and willed fire into it. It flickered to life immediately. “Will this power I have corrupt me? Will it make me evil?”

  “Elementia is neither good nor evil. It simply is. The world was created from the elements. I was created from the elements.”

  “And you’re not evil.” Despite the flames, she shivered as he drew closer.

  Another smile. “Evil is a choice one makes, not a natural state of being.”

  “Always?”

  His brows drew together. “This troubles you.”

  “Of course it does.” She wrung her hands, dousing the fire. “How do I get rid of it?”