Gathering Darkness

by Morgan Rhodes

  In his heart, he’d known it was the truth. It was why he’d continued to visit the child for so many years, so he could watch her grow up into the beautiful, powerful, and dangerous girl she now was.

  The night Lucia was taken from her birth mother, Alexius had silently pledged that he would always be there to protect her. At the time, he’d meant it with all his heart.

  Now, they were together in Limeros. Lucia’s hand tightened on his as they drew closer to the temple.

  “Oh, Alexius.” Her breath froze before her in the cold air as she spoke. “I’ve missed it here so much.”

  Alexius didn’t have many good things to say about Valoria, so he kept his thoughts to himself. Valoria had believed her opinions were better than anyone else’s, never mind that nobody ever shared them. She frowned upon anything that would make a life, either mortal or immortal, more interesting, even reading fables or singing. Cleiona had been the exact opposite: a frivolous, vain creature who cared only about her own amusement.

  It was no wonder the kingdoms they’d founded evolved to prize their respective values.

  Rising up at the temple entrance was a statue of Valoria, wearing an expression of judgment upon all who entered. Her arms were raised at her sides, and etched into her palms were the symbols of the elements she represented, earth and water.

  While this location paled in comparison to the grandeur found at the Temple of Cleiona, which was easily six times the size of this one, it was still very impressive. It was all clean lines of smooth granite blocks, exact angles, sharp edges, with nothing gaudy or out of place. Nothing extra or unnecessary or ornamental. The temple was pristine in all ways, and was open all hours of the day and night to anyone.

  But Melenia had sensed great power here—as she had at the three other locations.

  He’d thought it would be months, not weeks before he came here.

  It had all happened much quicker than he ever would have imagined.

  Inside, in the center of the black granite floor, a massive fire roared. This was in some ways ironic, since Cleiona was thought to be the goddess of that element. But in Limeros, one simply needed fire to keep from freezing to death.

  The fire, Alexius noted, burned in the center of a long, rectangular pool of shallow water, and was regularly tended by temple attendants dressed in red robes.

  There were very few people here tonight—a likely result of both the snowstorm and the late hour. He and Lucia had already secured a room at an inn close by, while keeping her identity well-guarded.

  Once the clouds had cleared and the bright moon lit the frozen landscape almost as well as the sun, she had practically dragged him here, excited to show him what had been such a large part of her life before moving to Auranos.

  He tried to walk quickly, but, even though the wound Xanthus gave him was healing nicely, his leg still troubled him. It was a harsh reminder of his mortality.

  Lucia pulled him down the aisle toward the altar at the front. There she grasped hold of his hands and looked up into his eyes.

  “This is where we’ll be married,” she said, a wide smile lighting up her sky-blue eyes.

  “Here?” He raised his brow as he glanced around. “I’m not sure if eloping princesses should be wed in public places like this if they want their secrets to remain such.”

  “Maybe I don’t want it to be a secret. Maybe I want everyone to know . . . even Father.” She kissed him, throwing her arms around him and pulling him close. “He’ll understand. He will.”

  He wondered if the king was so committed to finding the Kindred that he’d approve this marriage to ensure it. He wasn’t so certain. His last meeting had gone well enough, but the king was anxious and impatient about the lack of progress and time.

  If only he knew the truth.

  “What about your brother?” Alexius asked.

  “He might pose more of a problem.” But her smile was still intact when she drew back from him. “Magnus will have to accept that I love you. He understands love, whether he’ll admit it or not. He’ll see in my eyes that this is true and nothing will ever change it. I was always meant to be with you.”

  His heart a dead weight in his chest, he touched her cheek, trying to sear her image into his memory.

  Lucia finally frowned. “Why do you look so sad?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sad.”

  “This is your happy look, is it? I must say, it has me a little worried. You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

  Second, third, fourth . . . millionth. Every decision he’d made, every secret he’d kept. “Not about you.”

  “Good. I know how different we are. And I know I haven’t known you very long at all . . .”

  I’ve known you all your life, he thought. Watched over you. Protected you from the others. Almost seventeen years now I’ve waited.

  “. . . but this is right,” she continued. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

  Alexius took her hand, rubbing his thumb over the large amethyst in her ring. He remembered seeing the same ring on Eva’s finger. In the end, for all its power, it hadn’t helped the original sorceress against her greatest enemy.

  In the first dreams they’d shared, Alexius told Lucia that Eva had perished because she’d fallen in love with the wrong boy. But that had been a lie. Love—at least the love that Eva herself had experienced—had had absolutely nothing to do with the sorceress’s demise.

  It was such an ironic thought now.

  Lucia looked up at the arched ceiling and at the few worshippers filling the hard wooden benches. Then she turned to gaze at the fire that burned to keep visitors warm from the constant chill outside. “Can we claim the crystal here? Now?” she asked.

  “Not yet.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean, ‘not yet’? Is it because there are witnesses?”

  “No. It’s because one last step must be taken here. There’s been no blood magic, no elemental disaster. It won’t be done in the correct order, but it still must be done. This place”—he gazed around with trepidation—“is the anchor. This place is where it shall all end. And the end will trigger the beginning.”

  She smiled at his enigmatic speech. “I don’t understand.”

  “I wish I could have explained everything to you, but it’s impossible.” He rubbed his chest. “But here we are. Here is where destiny has been waiting for us for all these centuries.”

  She watched him patiently, as if his ramblings amused her. “What do we have to do, then, to accept this destiny?”

  She was so curious, insatiably so. He wondered what it would have been like to truly be her tutor—to help her with her magic for years to come. “It’s all about blood, princess. Blood is magic. It’s the key to everything—the key to life, the key to death, the key to freedom, the key to imprisonment.”

  She laughed, surprising him, and leaned forward to kiss him. “You’re so serious tonight, aren’t you? Don’t worry, a little blood doesn’t scare me.”

  He wished he felt the same. His chest hurt more with each moment he hesitated—the invisible markings binding him to Melenia’s will, controlling him, day and night. “She’s making me do this. Please know . . . this is not my choice.”

  Her smile faded and her expression became cast in shadow. “It’s all right, whatever’s troubling you. I’m here.” Then she hugged him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. “We’ll figure all of this out together and—”

  She gasped the second he sank his dagger into her stomach.

  “I’m sorry, Lucia,” Alexius whispered. “This isn’t me. This is something more powerful, controlling me.”

  He pulled the weapon out. She staggered back and dropped to her knees, touching her wound and staring with shock at her bloody fingertips. Blood flowed from the gash, soaking into her gown and p
ooling before her on the floor of the temple.

  At the other locations, it had taken a great deal of blood to trigger the necessary effect—a tornado, an earthquake, a wildfire. The blood of slaves spilled on the road they were forced to build. The blood of rebel battles in a temple and in the mountains. Blood spilled from scores of mortals, three separate times, to trigger three elemental disasters.

  Fate. All of it.

  But the blood of a sorceress was more powerful than that of one hundred regular mortals.

  Melenia had waited a thousand years for this moment. With Lucia’s blood spilled—here, now—the veil between worlds would finally dissipate enough for someone as powerful as the elder to escape her prison and claim what she wanted most.

  Through his fog of horror, Alexius heard the screams of those who’d witnessed his violent act. They ran from the temple, leaving him and Lucia alone.

  There were no heroes here to step in and save her.

  Only a once immortal villain clutching a dagger.

  Under Melenia’s spell, every rebellious thought he had or word he spoke caused him pain—but all of that was nothing compared to the pain he felt seeing Lucia suffer like this, enduring pain that went deeper than physical.

  “What . . .” Lucia gasped. “What are you . . . why did you do this? Alexius . . . why?”

  Suddenly, an ice storm gathered, triggered by Lucia’s blood, unleashing itself above the Temple of Valoria and shattering every window. Icicles as sharp as swords and as fast as lightning hurtled through the open windows, some impaling the floor and others shattering into a thousand pieces on contact.

  Alexius just stood there, silently shaking as he watched Lucia bleed. She stared up at him with pain and confusion etched onto her pale face.

  No fury or accusation, only confusion.

  All the while the violent storm battered the temple. He had no doubt that anyone who’d set foot outside was already dead. There hadn’t been enough time for them to find shelter before the gales struck. Their bodies would be found around the temple, frozen and riddled with ice shards.

  But their deaths were meaningless. Only Lucia’s blood mattered.

  Melenia had been right about so much. But not everything.

  Lucia could destroy him with a thought, but she didn’t use her elementia against him in defense. Right now she was just a girl who’d been betrayed by the boy she loved.

  He knelt next to her and took her by her shoulders, struggling to speak past the pain that threatened to block the truth. “That wound won’t kill you, but the next one will. You must defend yourself from me while you still have a chance.”

  Her agonized gaze searched his. “Alexius . . . stop this . . .”

  “My mission is carved into my very skin, Lucia. Melenia has compelled me to obey her commands and I can’t stop this, I can only delay the inevitable.” Each word was a knife in his throat. “Melenia wants you to die, here and now.”

  “Why?”

  “Your blood holds the same magic as Eva’s blood—powerful enough to trap her, powerful enough to free her. She doesn’t want the Kindred returned to the Sanctuary. She wants it for herself and she’s planned this, waited for this, for millennia.”

  Her eyes grew wider with every word he said. “You lied to me.” She drew in a ragged breath. “How could you? I trusted you!”

  It took every ounce of his strength to resist the faraway command to run his blade into Lucia’s heart and steal her life completely. Melenia’s obedience spell burned within him, but he resisted. There had to be another choice . . .

  He clutched the blade, his hand trembling violently. “You need to kill me.”

  She shook her head. “What? No! You . . . you said this wound won’t kill me. I’m still alive, I’m here. Please, whatever spell she’s put on you . . . you have to resist it!”

  “I’m trying,” he bit out through clenched teeth. But it was an impossible task.

  Melenia would win, just as he always knew she would.

  His strength was gone, his small grasp on control slipping. Everything inside him screamed for him to end this, to kill her and be done with it. But he still held on. “She’ll do anything to free him,” he said. “She believes she loves him and that justifies everything to her.”

  “What? Who—Melenia? I don’t care who she loves. I love you. No matter what. I love you, Alexius.”

  “Why won’t you do as I say and defend yourself from me?”

  “Because this isn’t an elementia lesson,” she hissed. “And you’re not my tutor right now. You’re the boy I love and I’m not giving up on you!”

  She thought there was still a choice to be made, still hope for a future together.

  He wished she were right.

  She was so beautiful, this young girl who’d stolen his heart. So beautiful and brave even after he’d done so much to make her hate him. “You still don’t understand. She already has won. Now it’s just a matter of who will survive until tomorrow—you, or me. And I swear, it will be you.”

  With that, he tightened his grip on the hilt of his dagger, and with every iota of strength and will he had left, thrust the blade into his own heart.

  “No!” Lucia screamed. “Alexius! No!”

  The pain was intense, but it was different from the pain of resisting Melenia’s spell. This pain would finally free him from the spell that had made him her slave.

  The golden swirl on his chest began to glow brighter beneath the blood now masking it. His blood mingled with Lucia’s as the ice storm finally began to subside.

  She pulled him against her, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “I love you,” he said. “And I’m so sorry I couldn’t be stronger for you.”

  She shook her head, pressing her hands against his wound. Her hands began to glow. She was trying to heal him

  It almost made him smile. She already knew that earth magic couldn’t heal an exiled Watcher, neither his magic nor hers. And yet she still tried.

  A ragged cry escaped her throat. “You can’t leave me. I need you.”

  Finally, after so long under Melenia’s command, his head was clear of her influence. It meant he didn’t have much time left, but he would use that time to help the girl he loved.

  He drew her closer to him. “Please, listen to me. Listen very carefully . . .”

  Her hot, salty tears fell against his skin as he began to speak, but their warmth couldn’t stop the chill that swiftly spread through his body. Throughout his long life, he’d always wondered what the moment of his death would be like—if it ever came. He’d never thought he would be foolish enough to leave the Sanctuary, to risk his immortality for a girl.

  But for this girl, he would gladly risk anything.

  And before death finally claimed him, he kissed her one last time and told her what she needed to know about what was soon to come . . .

  CHAPTER 32

  MAGNUS

  LIMEROS

  As if this trip to Limeros hadn’t given him enough problems to deal with, the fact that the Kraeshians were every bit as deceitful as his father believed them to be added a whole new set of troubles. On the carriage ride to the temple, Magnus imagined how he would kill them.

  Slowly, he thought. Very slowly.

  “Are we there yet?” Amara asked her brother, her usually honeyed voice edged with impatience.

  “It won’t be much longer,” Ashur replied.

  Magnus couldn’t help noticing that the carriage driver had chosen to take a meandering route to the temple after Ashur informed him of their destination. It had taken nearly twice as long to get there as it should have.

  The dawdling ride gave him plenty of time to consider this unfortunate situation, but not enough to figure a way out of it.

  He wished he’d seen Amara’s threat before now, but he’d been di
stracted by her beauty and refreshing bluntness. Certainly he couldn’t have been the first to make that mistake.

  Cleo sat across from him in the carriage, her hands folded on her lap as she quietly gazed out of the window at the snowy landscape speeding past. On the surface, she was so serene, but he was certain a storm raged behind those eyes. There was no way Cleo would have let them kill Nic; he knew that. He didn’t even blame her for telling them about the temple while under such pressure.

  Well, he blamed her a little. But what was done was done.

  They finally reached the temple. Magnus stepped out of the carriage, then halted, shocked. An ice storm of a magnitude he’d never witnessed before had ravaged the place. Thick shards of ice protruded from the snow-covered ground. Bodies, some of which had been cut cleanly in half by the gargantuan blades of ice, were scattered everywhere. Blood, black as ink, stained the frosty ground.

  Cleo looked around with horror. “What happened here?”

  Amara surveyed the scene with her hands on her hips. “An elemental disaster, by the looks of it. I choose to think of this as merely a good sign that we’ve arrived at the right place.”

  Magnus crouched next to a body, feeling the man’s throat to find it nearly frozen solid. It was enough to tell him this hadn’t just happened. At least an hour had passed since this man had died.

  The skies were dark but cloudless, displaying nothing but the bright full moon to light the gory scene before them while the rest of Limeros slept.

  “Shall we go inside?” Ashur asked briskly.

  Magnus hesitated, and a guard shoved him forward. His hands itched for a weapon, but he’d been fully disarmed at Lady Sophia’s villa.

  Walking inside, Magnus saw that the ice had also penetrated the temple walls. The floor was covered in a cold, crystal-clear layer, some of which had begun to melt.

  The guard shoved him again as they moved down the aisle.