Gathering Darkness

by Morgan Rhodes

  Their fate would be his decision and nobody else’s.

  Galyn, the tavern owner and friend of the rebels, brought drinks—three ales and no wine this time, which pleased Lysandra.

  “Welcome back,” Galyn said quietly. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “You too.” It was a relief to see the younger, heavyset man rather than his exuberantly loud, white-haired father, Bruno.” Do you have any messages for me?”

  Galyn shook his head. “None, although your pretty, young friend has come here several times these last few days. With the recent rumors I’ve heard about happenings in the City of Gold, I’m sure she has some new information to impart, but she hasn’t left a single message with me.”

  Jonas stared at him. “What recent developments?”

  Galyn lowered his voice further. “Apparently, Princess Lucia has run away from the palace with her tutor. The king is furious, and now tears apart every town and village in the kingdom searching for her.”

  “So the princess’s idiotic romantic decisions will mean pain and death for many,” Lysandra said with disgust. “The selfish decisions of these vain royals never fail to sicken me.”

  No one spoke up to argue with her opinion.

  “The palace is in disarray,” Galyn continued. “Because of this, and, of course, because of the disappearance of Prince Magnus and Princess Cleiona.”

  Jonas suddenly couldn’t find his voice.

  “What do you mean, ‘disappearance’?” Felix asked.

  “I mean, rumor has it they’re gone without a trace. Some say that the king went mad and put them both—his heir and his heir’s wife—to death. Frankly, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  Cleo was missing . . . possibly dead? It couldn’t be.

  Had she been exposed as a spy? She’d sent him two messages, the second only a week ago. Could that be related to this?

  Jonas had to know more. If this was true, and if she was still alive, he had to find her.

  He lurched up from the table.

  “Sit down,” Felix said.

  His throat was tight and painful. “I have to go.”

  “Not yet.”

  “What?”

  “Someone just walked through the door and I’m pretty sure you’re going to want to talk to her.”

  Jonas turned, peering past the edge of his hood to see Nerissa entering the tavern. She scanned it, deep relief crossing her face when she spotted him. She hurriedly approached their table as Galyn excused himself

  “Thank the goddess you’re here,” she said, grasping Jonas’s hands.

  His heart pounded. “I just heard about the princess . . . that she’s missing. Is it true?”

  “May I speak with you in private?”

  Jonas was about to protest, to say that anything that had to be said could be said in front of his friends, but he held his tongue. After all, there could be others listening.

  “Go,” Lysandra said. “And make haste.”

  He guided Nerissa out of the main tavern and toward the staircase leading to the inn.

  “This is private enough.” She looked around nervously at the small alcove.

  “Is it true about Princess Cleo?” Jonas demanded.

  “She’s gone, Jonas. No one knows where.”

  “And Prince Magnus.”

  “Him too. It’s a mystery, but I know this much. Two guards were slain in the dungeon, including the captain of the guard. It happened while they were on duty . . . watching Cleo, whom the king imprisoned for treason.”

  The world before Jonas’s eyes blurred and darkened. “And now she and the boy she was forced to marry are missing.”

  “Yes.”

  “And the king? What is his reaction to this?”

  “I have no way of knowing. He’s in seclusion. But I have heard that he fears Prince Magnus may have been taken hostage, or murdered, by whoever helped the princess escape. And Jonas . . . well, you have been named as the main suspect.”

  Any other day, he might have found this amusing. Here he was, accused of yet another crime he didn’t commit.

  Nerissa’s face was pale, worried. “I can’t stay, Jonas. And I won’t be able to meet you again for some time. They’re looking at everyone in the palace with suspicion.”

  “Thank you for sharing what you know. I know how dangerous this is for you.” His mind was in turmoil, unsure how to process this information. He’d once hated this royal girl beyond any other . . . yet now he found his world turned upside down at the thought that she’d been in grave danger—that she was still in grave danger—and he hadn’t been able to do a thing to help her.

  Nerissa clutched his arm, drawing his attention back to the present. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s about your new friend, Felix.”

  “Felix?” Jonas frowned, trying to concentrate. “What about him?”

  “Our first meeting gave a bad first impression.”

  “And here I thought you two hit it off well enough.”

  “I know men, Jonas. I know when they’re hiding something. And I saw that in his eyes. I also saw that you trusted him, which worried me. So I did some digging, and I found some information.” She hesitated. “You’re not going to like it.”

  Jonas looked her right in her eyes, steeling himself for more bad news.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  • • •

  Nerissa shared her information with him, then promptly left.

  Jonas returned to the tavern and swept his gaze across the large room. Felix was at the bar, talking to Galyn. Lysandra still sat at the table in the dark corner, studying the wall and sipping from her tankard of ale.

  “Lys,” he called to her. She glanced over at him and he signaled for her to follow him.

  He led her back to the alcove where he’d spoken with Nerissa, only this time he went up the staircase. He found a vacant room on the second floor, and pulled Lysandra into it with him, closing the door behind them.

  She eyed him with wariness. “What’s happened? Did Nerissa deliver bad news about the princess?”

  “Yes, but I can’t deal with that right now. We have a more immediate problem.”

  “What is it?”

  “Nerissa doesn’t trust Felix.”

  “That makes two of us,” she said, but then grimaced. “Sorry. I know you’ve come to consider him a true friend. I must learn to respect that. And, really, he isn’t nearly as smarmy as I first thought.”

  He hissed out a breath. “He works for King Gaius.”

  Lysandra stared at him with shock. “What?”

  She looked as blindsided as he’d felt when Nerissa told him. “He said he was raised by a group of cutthroats who worked for a rich boss, right? Well, that rich boss was the king. He’s a hired assassin for the King of Blood.” Jonas’s anger had started slowly, as cold shock, but had built quickly into something practically tangible, something he could hold onto. “That’s how he found me. Five weeks ago he was at the palace to receive his most recent assignment—to track me down and bring my head to the king.”

  “Wait. But—but he didn’t do that. You’ve been with him all this time and he hasn’t made a single move, right?” Lysandra gripped Jonas’s arms. “Maybe she’s wrong.”

  He was furious with himself for being stupid enough to trust someone he barely knew.

  Nerissa’s information had resonated with him. It finally filled in the blanks that Jonas had been trying to ignore about his new friend.

  He believed Nerissa.

  “He’s waiting for something.” Jonas shook his head. “Now that I have the crystals . . . Cleo told me the king was after the Kindred—after magic. That is his goal. Do you have any idea what the king would pay for even one of those crysta
ls? And do you know what he’d do with that kind of power if he’s able figure out how to harness it?”

  “Jonas, please calm down. Losing your head isn’t going to help.”

  “Nice choice of words.” He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “You were right not to trust him. You sensed something, didn’t you? Something off.”

  “I did. But—I mean, I’ll admit I don’t trust easily.”

  “Neither do I. Not normally. Damn it, I don’t have time to deal with this. I need to start searching for the princess . . .”

  “Forget the princess for a minute. What do we do now, with Felix? Confront him?”

  Jonas began pacing the room. “I will confront him, but not right now.”

  “Why? What are you waiting for?”

  He met her gaze. “Because first I need you to leave.”

  She looked at him with confusion. “Why would I do that?”

  It would be great if once, just once, someone would do as he asked without arguing. “Because he’s dangerous.”

  “I’m dangerous too, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  She needed to see reason, but there wasn’t much time to convince her. “I’m going to just go ahead and say it. I’ve been worried about you ever since your escape from the palace. I don’t want to jeopardize your recovery. I know what happened. It—it was rough for you. And your brother . . .” His jaw tensed. “I know that you’ll need to take time to heal.”

  She stared at him. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not.”

  Her face flushed and her eyes flashed with anger. “Yes, I am. I’m fine. Stop treating me like a delicate flower, because never, not once in my entire life, have I been one. You don’t need to protect me. I can confront Felix with you, by your side. And if he makes any move toward you, I’ll kill him.”

  She was so beautiful when she got all riled up like this. “You never stop arguing, do you?”

  She groaned with frustration. “I’m not going anywhere else and you can’t make—”

  He grabbed her face between his hands, pushed her back against the wall, and pressed his mouth against hers. His emotions were running high tonight, and just then she’d looked so fierce, so gorgeous—

  He couldn’t resist. He’d wanted to kiss her for ages, actually. And it was just as good as he’d imagined it would be.

  She grabbed hold of his shirt as if ready to shove him away from her, but instead she slid her hands over his shoulders and pulled him closer, returning the kiss, and, for a moment, made him forget everything but the salty-sweet taste of her lips.

  When they parted, he was panting, certain his face was as flushed as hers.

  “Didn’t expect that,” she whispered.

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Well, it doesn’t change a thing. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Fine.” He slid his fingers through her long dark hair, his mind spinning. “We’ll confront Felix together. Two against one, better odds.”

  “Will you, now?”

  The words cut through their shared moment like a knife. Lysandra stiffened against Jonas and they both looked toward the entrance. Leaning against the frame in the now open doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, was Felix.

  “So confront me,” he said, without a trace of humor in his voice or eyes. “What are you waiting for?”

  Rage returned, bright as fire before Jonas’s eyes. “Where should I begin?”

  “You can save the recap. I heard everything through the door. Realized that both of my friends had suddenly disappeared into thin air, so I went searching for them. And here you are.”

  Jonas stepped away from Lysandra, cursing himself for letting his guard down. The walls here were paper thin; he should have been more careful.

  “You lied to me,” Jonas growled.

  “I never lied. Withheld the truth? Maybe a little.”

  The smug look in Felix’s eyes was enough to incite Jonas. He attacked, grabbing hold of the boy’s arms and shoving him backward out of the room and into the hallway.

  Felix broke loose easily and smashed his fist into Jonas’s face. Jonas stumbled, falling to the ground, but Felix grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him back up to his feet.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Jonas snarled.

  “I’d like to see you try. For all those rumors about you, I’ve never been too impressed by your combat skills. Me, on the other hand? Professional level.”

  “I guess that’s why the king keeps you in his back pocket.”

  “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

  “Stop it,” Lysandra snarled. “Both of you.”

  “No,” Felix said, flicking a cold glance at her. “Jonas started this and I’ll finish it. Couldn’t be any other way. I’m surprised it took this long, really.”

  The smugness was gone, replaced now by what Jonas saw as pained disappointment.

  Without another word, Felix shoved Jonas down the stairwell. He stumbled and fell, unable to right himself until he landed with a crash on his back on the floor. He pushed up and staggered into the tavern, with Felix right behind him.

  Jonas grabbed for his dagger, but Felix was there first. He knocked it out of his grip and backhanded Jonas across his face as he tried to get to his feet, then punched him hard in the gut. Jonas spit out a mouthful of blood and found he could barely breathe; the air had been completely knocked out of his lungs.

  Lysandra ran down the stairs, a knife in her hand, but Felix turned, grabbed her by her throat, and shoved her backward, sending her crashing into a table.

  Jonas tried to get up, but found Felix’s knee pressed to his chest and his blade to Jonas’s throat.

  “So here we are,” Felix said. “My little secret’s now out. Too bad, I like to keep my secrets secret.”

  “I trusted you.” Jonas growled.

  “Trust goes both ways, friend.”

  “So kill me already.”

  “Did you consider, for one damn moment, that I’m not as bad as you suddenly think I am?”

  “You work for the king.”

  “I did work for the king. I did a lot of bad things for the king, actually, and got paid well for all of them. Ever since I was only eleven years old, I’ve killed for him. I was a cute kid. I could get into a lot of places his other assassins couldn’t. Kept Limeros running nice and tight, no problems. But things have changed since the war. I’ve changed.”

  Jonas stared up with disappointment—almost heartbreak—at the boy he’d come to consider a friend. “Really.”

  “I told you how I grew up, just not where or who my boss was. I never had friends. I was raised not to trust anyone unless they were part of my clan. I came to hate those people.” Felix’s expression grew haunted. “Got my latest assignment from the king, which was to track you down and infiltrate your little group of rebels. Lo and behold, when I found you, you had no group. You were as alone as I was. Call me crazy, but I decided to make a change right then and there. Felt like the right time for me to start down my path of redemption.”

  Jonas frowned, uncertain what to believe.

  “That’s right. I wasn’t planning to betray you or kill you.” Felix voice was thick with conviction. “But the moment you hear something you don’t like, you betray me, you decide to kill me. Without a second damn thought. Doesn’t sound like a real friend to me.”

  Jonas shot a glance over to Lysandra, and was dismayed to see that she was lying unconscious on the floor. Felix followed his line of sight. “I didn’t mean to shove her that hard. But sometimes we hurt the people we love. Life’s like that.”

  Then he plunged his dagger through Jonas’s shoulder, pinning him to the floor. Jonas screamed.

  “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. It just feels like it will.” Felix ripped the leather pouch off its ties a
round Jonas’s wrist and pulled out the crystals. He held them as if weighing them to determine their value in gold before curling his fingers around the moonstone.

  “My blood, my crystal. It’s only fair.” He tossed the orb of obsidian at Jonas; it landed heavily on his chest and rolled off to the side. “We’re done here.”

  Jonas watched through a curtain of pain as Felix turned and walked out of the tavern without a backward glance.

  Lysandra groaned and began to stir. Galyn emerged from behind the bar and ran over to help her up to her feet.

  Jonas lay still, literally pinned to the floor, until Lysandra helped him remove Felix’s dagger and patch his wound.

  “It’s all right,” she told him, her expression one of anguish. “We’re better off without him.”

  Jonas wasn’t so sure about that. Trust was a fragile thing. And in that moment, he couldn’t even trust himself anymore.

  He’d learned a few important, but very painful, lessons tonight.

  The first was that he’d screwed up.

  The second was that true friends were rare. And those with dark pasts didn’t always yearn for dark futures.

  He could have given Felix a chance to explain, given him the benefit of the doubt after he’d shown his loyalty time and again.

  It seemed that Felix wasn’t the only one now ready to earn his redemption.

  CHAPTER 31

  ALEXIUS

  LIMEROS

  While many of Alexius’s memories had grown foggy since Melenia applied her obedience spell to his flesh, one had remained crystal clear. It was of a starry, moonlit night in Paelsia when, in hawk form, he’d watched two sisters use magic enhanced by blood and death to steal a newborn child from her cradle.

  He’d watched as they slipped away into the dark forest, the tiny baby swaddled between them. Then, soon after, he watched one sister betray the other in order to deliver the child to the man who’d given her the mission in the first place, a man she believed she loved—a man who would one day be king.

  The witch was young and stupid and willing to do horrible things for love—even murder her own sister.

  But what Alexius remembered most vividly was the moment he had gazed at the baby’s face, wondering if what the witches said could be true: that this innocent child was the sorceress reborn, after all of these years they’d waited.