The man shook his head. ‘Alas, no. Kronos perished a long time ago, from illness.’
Crovir narrowed pale eyes at him. ‘What do you mean, a long time ago?’
The man poured himself a glass of wine while he chose his next words. In theory, Jonah Krondike should have been here for this conversation. He frowned. He would not let that stop him from accomplishing his father’s long-held dreams. He raised his eyes and steeled himself as he stared into the faces of the once dead kings.
‘As you can probably gather from my clothes, this is not the era of your reign, nor is this the place where you last were.’
‘The battlefield outside Eridug,’ Bastian murmured.
The man hesitated.
‘I—don’t know how to put this any other way,’ he said finally. ‘Five millennia have passed since your deaths.’
Crovir blinked and paled.
‘What?’ Bastian said hoarsely.
The man spoke then. Of the events that had followed the kings’ deaths. Events Kronos had learned from his spies in the Empire.
The last born son of Crovir had not known much about the final destination of his siblings and cousins when they had left Uryl with the bodies of their fathers except that they had headed west across the desert. In the centuries that had followed, after he had formed the sect of Immortal-human half-breeds he would give his name to, Kronos had searched heaven and earth to discover their whereabouts.
Disgust flared across Crovir’s face. ‘My son—mated with humans?!’
The man nodded, unfazed. ‘He had to. It was the only way he could build an army to try and bring you back.’
He told the kings how their Immortal descendants had spread across the world and grown both in number and affluence following the fall of their Empire. He told them of the great war that eventually broke out between Immortals who called themselves Crovirs and those of Bastian’s lineage. He spoke of the fourteenth century plagues that had visited mankind and Immortals alike, and that had finally seen an end to the savage conflict between the Crovirs and the Bastians. He explained how the Immortal races were still nowhere near the numbers they had been before the Red Death, following the unexpected affliction of infertility that took several decades to manifest.
He spoke of the human wars that had dominated the eras, starting well before the plagues, wars that had been influenced from the shadows by the two Immortal races. He told them how Immortals had molded the history of the weaker race over the millennia and how they still owned most of the world’s wealth.
‘Though a pact for peace was made between the Crovirs and the Bastians toward the end of the fourteenth century, the truce has always been uneasy at best, and friction still exists between the societies that form the core of the races.’
Crovir and Bastian stared at him for a long time, their eyes reflecting their shock.
‘And our children?’ Bastian mumbled. ‘How did they meet their end?’
‘That I do not know. That they are dead is beyond doubt, though.’
Crovir watched him for a moment. ‘There is something you are not telling us.’
The man looked steadily at the first king, surprised by the power of his gaze. Sadness and anger flashed through him.
If only you were here, Jonah, to witness this. To see these men whom you revered for so long live and breathe once more. To see why it was they came to rule so many in their time.
‘You are correct,’ he said calmly. ‘Seven years ago, the sect Kronos had formed and which Jonah had taken command of finally discovered your burial site six hundred miles from where we believe you fell at the hands of your daughter, Mila.’
Crovir’s face darkened at the name.
‘Within the caves that held your tombs were scrolls carved into the walls and a stone box containing parchments that recounted your histories, from Romerus’s origins and his journey into the desert to seek cures for you when you lay dying from illness, to the rise and fall of the Empire you once ruled. They also revealed something else. Something which Kronos had not been aware of.’
‘What was that?’ Bastian said.
The man turned to the second king. ‘Your daughter Navia. The Seer. Inscribed in the scriptures we uncovered were her predictions. She foretold that the souls of your children would one day be reborn, in an era when their strengths and talents would be needed once more. She foresaw that the bodies of the Immortals they would reside in would be marked in some way, to identify them as the special beings they would be.’
Crovir stiffened. ‘Special?’
‘Each would inherit one of the—unworldly gifts your children were born with. Warrior skills. The power to heal. Elemental force. The ability to read the minds of men and see the future.’ The man hesitated. ‘She prophesied that they would be more powerful than your children.’
Silence descended inside the dining hall.
‘And did they come true?’ Crovir finally said in an oddly pensive tone. ‘Her predictions?’
The man noted the troubled expression that danced across Bastian’s face when he glanced at his brother.
He masked a frown. ‘Yes. We’ve only recently identified all five of them. Five Immortals who bear the birthmarks that were chiseled into the stone of the caves where you were buried.’
‘Five?’ Crovir scowled. ‘No. Only four of our children had mystical powers.’
‘That is correct,’ the man admitted steadily. ‘We believe the fifth man to be the reincarnation of two of the most powerful Immortals in your army. Your generals.’
Bastian blinked. ‘Tobias and Baruch?’
‘Yes. Which is why we think he can kill other Immortals and has even survived his seventeenth death.’
Crovir startled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The Immortal I speak of can end the existence of another Immortal before their final death. If the weapon he wields bears a direct physical connection between his body and the heart of another Immortal, they are unable to resurrect after their demise. He himself has perished seventeen times, yet has lived to walk this Earth again.’
The man slipped an envelope out of his suit jacket while the kings stared, stunned. He removed the stack of photographs from within and placed them on the table.
‘These are the faces of the ones who bear the marks and their allies.’
The kings looked at the pile of photographs as if they were snakes.
The man swallowed a sigh. ‘Think of this as a modern version of a sculpture or—’ he waved a hand, ‘—a painting.’ He took the first picture and slid it over so they could see the man it featured. ‘This is Victor Dvorsky. He is the current leader of the Bastian race and an ally of your children’s reincarnated forms.’ He slid another picture toward them. ‘Dimitri Reznak, a Crovir noble who became the temporary head of the Crovir race a few years ago. He was one of the key instigators of the peace treaty that ended the war between the two Immortal races.’ He showed them the third picture. ‘Anna Godard. She is the granddaughter of Tomas Godard, a noble of pureblood lineage who once ruled the Bastian race, and Agatha Vellacrus, a noble of pureblood lineage who presided over the Crovirs up until seven years ago.’
Crovir drew a sharp breath. ‘What aberration is this?!’ Fury lit his pale eyes. ‘You mean to say the races mixed too? Despite the decree?’
The man met the older king’s angry glare without blinking. ‘Yes. It’s the reason you’re alive again.’ He registered the two Immortals’ shocked incomprehension. ‘Even though your edict was passed down the ages and became law in the Immortal societies, two pureblood Crovir brothers and two pureblood Bastian sisters violated the decree and mated with one another. The results of their relationships were this woman,’ he tapped Anna Godard’s picture with a finger, ‘who, although not marked, we believe also possesses the ability to survive her seventeenth death and permanently end the lives of other Immortals, and this man.’
He showed them Lucas Soul’s photograph.
Bastian leaned forw
ard abruptly and reached out to touch the picture.
‘Baruch,’ he breathed in a shocked voice. He looked up at his brother, who stared stiffly at the photograph. ‘And Tobias. I see Tobias in him too.’
Confusion flashed through the man. ‘What?’
‘This Immortal.’ Bastian indicated the photograph of Soul. ‘This—Lucas—you speak of. He resembles our firstborn sons.’
The man gazed at the second king, staggered by this revelation.
‘His and Anna Godard’s blood possesses incredible abilities,’ he said after a short silence. ‘But their children’s? Their children’s is even more powerful.’
Crovir narrowed his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Shortly after we first discovered your tombs, they were stolen from us and concealed somewhere secret, under the aegis of both Immortal societies. It wasn’t until two years ago that I was able to locate them once more. Your children made two complex seals to your tombs at the time of your burial. Seals without which we could not hope to recover your bodies. Other methods of opening the tombs, though likely to be successful, would have resulted in significant damage to your flesh and bones. The one for your sarcophagus,’ he looked at Bastian, ‘was given to a pureblood Crovir for safekeeping.’
His gaze shifted to the first king. ‘As for yours, it was bestowed on a pureblood Bastian. After we recovered your body and your heart a year and a half ago, we tried everything modern science and medicine had to offer to bring you back to life, but to no avail. Then we discovered information that led us to believe the only thing that could revive you was the blood of the half-breed child of a pureblood Bastian and a pureblood Crovir. The very being your law decreed to be an abomination.’ He paused. ‘When we found Lucas Soul and Anna Godard a few months back, we realized they had had a family. Two children. A boy and a girl. Twins, in fact.’ He looked at Bastian. ‘We were only able to access your body and return your heart to its rightful place in the last three days, after we found the second seal. Hence, why you still have a dressing on your chest.’ He hesitated. ‘It is those children’s blood that brought you back to life today.’
A stunned hush fell upon the chamber once more.
The nagging feeling at the back of the man’s mind that had surfaced when the kings had admitted that Lucas Soul resembled their dead sons crystallized into suspicion.
Heart racing, he removed his cell from his pocket, and brought up a picture. ‘This is Jonah Krondike, my father.’
Crovir’s eyes widened as he studied the image the man showed them.
He hesitated before touching the cell screen, sadness flashing in his pale gaze for a moment. ‘Kronos. This is Kronos.’
The man shuddered and closed his eyes briefly. Now it all makes sense. My father’s obsession for all those centuries. His single-minded determination to find these kings. He could not help it. He could not help any of it.
‘He is dead?’ Crovir asked.
The man swallowed and nodded. ‘Yes. Killed by the marked Immortals who inherited the powers of your other children.’
‘What of your mother?’ Bastian said quietly.
‘She is alive but I have nothing to do with her,’ the man said, his tone turning cool. ‘She is a Crovir noble, the only one close enough to being of pureblood descent that my father could find when he was looking for someone to mate with. He bought her womb for a large sum of gold. Once I was born, he took me away. I have never met her, nor do I wish to do so.’
Crovir’s gaze shifted to the rest of the photographs. A muscle twitched in his cheek as he reached over and pulled them across one by one.
He stared at Ethan Storm’s picture. ‘This is Jared.’
‘Rafael,’ Bastian mumbled when Conrad Greene’s photograph appeared from the pile.
‘Navia,’ Crovir said at the sight of Olivia Ashkarov’s picture.
Both kings stiffened when Alexa King’s photograph was revealed next.
Crovir’s hands fisted on the table. ‘Mila, the traitor!’
Bastian’s face grew shuttered.
The next picture had both kings rising to their feet, their chairs clattering to the floor behind them.
The man’s mouth turned dry as he observed their expressions. On Bastian’s face, he read wonderment. On Crovir’s, he detected horror. Crovir’s gaze shifted briefly to him before focusing on the photograph once more.
The man blinked when he saw a flicker of fear in the pale depths of the older king’s eyes.
He studied the figure gazing up at them from the picture on the table, puzzled by the kings’ reactions. ‘This is Asgard Godard, the son of Tomas Godard and uncle to Lucas Soul and Anna Godard. He has been a thorn in our side for a long time.’
‘That is Romerus,’ Bastian said. He swallowed before meeting the man’s widening stare. ‘Our father.’
The man inhaled sharply. Blood thundered in his ears as he reached for the final picture.
‘Madeleine Black. She is a mosaic, the offspring of a Bastian noble and a pureblood Immortal-human half-breed. She is neither human nor Immortal.’
Bastian glanced at him. ‘That is—that woman is Joanna.’ His eyes gleamed with a thin film of tears as he looked at the photograph. ‘Our stepmother.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Victor stared at the Immortals opposite him. ‘What?’
‘The ones we are descended from are—well, kinda back,’ Zachary said with a grimace.
Victor’s startled gaze swung to Dimitri. ‘You believe this?’
Dimitri ran a hand through his hair. ‘Anna, Jordan, and I saw what happened in the lab.’
Anna nodded. ‘Even Eva detected the surges of energy inside the room. And Olivia’s birthmark lit up from the inside out. It was eerie.’
They were in a reception room in Dimitri’s chateau. Victor had traveled straight to Sumava from Vienna when the Crovir noble had called him three hours ago. Light was fading fast through the leaded-glass windows overlooking the estate’s gardens.
Victor turned to Olivia. ‘So, you’re saying Navia, the original Seer, is alive inside you right now?’
Olivia dipped her chin. ‘Yes. I felt her presence more at the time of her revival.’ She pressed a hand over her heart. ‘But I know she’s in there.’
Victor stared at Zachary. ‘And you are—?’
‘Alexa told me something about her first death, seven years ago,’ Zachary said. ‘She lived many of the memories of her predecessor when she was in that place between death and her next life. Of all the things she recalls to this day, one remains crystal clear. Mila’s true soulmate was never Kronos. It was a human prince and general by the name of Aäron.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I looked him up after that.’
‘You’ve never spoken of this before,’ Dimitri said in a faintly accusing tone.
Zachary sighed. ‘We didn’t think it would benefit anyone. Besides, Alexa wanted to keep it between the two of us.’
‘And?’ Victor asked in a stilted voice. ‘Did you find anything out about this—Aäron?’
Zachary nodded. ‘There was a brief mention of the name in the Sumerian scriptures I researched. It seems there used to be other engravings and documents that told his life story but they have long been lost.’ He faltered. ‘He was the brother of Megash, a Sumerian King of the First Dynasty of Uruk, and the uncle of Gilgamesh.’
Victor blinked. ‘Gilgamesh? As in the mythical king?’
‘Yup,’ Zachary said.
Victor digested this for a moment. ‘Is that why the two of you are—?’ He waved a hand vaguely at Zachary and Olivia.
They looked at one another before staring at him.
‘What?’ Zachary said.
Dimitri sighed. ‘He means the swords.’
Zachary and Olivia glanced at the blades they were casually holding.
‘Oh,’ Olivia murmured. ‘Yes.’
Victor arched an eyebrow. ‘If I’m not mistaken, those are from the prized collection in Dimitri’s l
ibrary.’
Zachary nodded and juggled his broadsword from one hand to the other, as if it weighed nothing. ‘I can’t help thinking it could do with more weight in the handle. And the blade should be thicker.’
‘Mine feels perfect.’ Olivia lifted her sword and stared down its length. ‘It fits my grip well.’ She paused and blinked. ‘I see what you mean.’
Victor looked at Asgard and Madeleine. Of all the revelations of the last half hour, those concerning the man and woman opposite him stunned him the most.
‘The scriptures from Egypt never mentioned anything about other reborn souls,’ he said half-accusingly. ‘It named only those children of Crovir and Bastian who possessed mystical gifts.’
Asgard glanced at the woman beside him. ‘We are as puzzled as you are. But there’s no denying what we felt. What we still feel inside us.’
Victor watched him for a moment.
‘I guess that solves the mystery of why you’ve had two soulmates,’ he finally said. ‘Sara Ashkarov may very well have been the reincarnated soul of Zara, Romerus’s first wife.’
Asgard stilled and blinked. ‘That is—I never thought of that.’ He hesitated before lifting Armistad, his arming sword, from where it leaned against the couch by his legs. ‘There’s something I don’t understand, though.’ He hefted the blade lightly in his hands, a frown on his brow. ‘Romerus was not a warrior.’
‘Yes, he was,’ Madeleine said.
Asgard startled. ‘He never picked up a sword in his life.’
‘He didn’t have to,’ Madeleine said. ‘Romerus was not just a man of pure heart. He was singularly strong of body and mind, just like you are. From the memories Joanna has given me, I can see he defended their home and their village many a time against marauders, using only a staff. And he survived his journey into the desert, a journey that would have killed most men.’ She paused. ‘I believe that was why he was—chosen. He may have been forced to watch his sons become the kings of an Empire that treated its subjects with the most abject cruelty—but that did not make him a coward. There were reasons behind his inaction, of this I’m certain.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’m not surprised it turns out you carry his soul.’
Destiny Page 14
