Crystal Storm
Page 26
Magnus knew perfectly well what “take care of them” meant, and he didn’t object.
“How much farther will we be traveling?” he asked.
“We’re headed to the Reaches,” the king replied.
Magnus’s eyes widened. “The Reaches? So it seems my block-of-ice theory isn’t that far off after all.”
The Reaches was a stretch of land close to the Granite Coast, consisting mostly of frozen moors and icy valleys. It was the coldest place in all of Limeros. The ice there never melted, not even when those in the west experienced the brief temperate season that they considered summer. There was only one village located in the Reaches, and Magnus assumed that that frozen little town must be where Selia Damora had been kept hidden all this time.
The king didn’t divulge more information. He turned his back to Magnus and went to the river to fill his waterskin. Magnus walked over to Cleo, who had her fur-lined cloak pulled tightly around her face.
“How do you stand this temperature for so long?” she asked him.
He barely noticed how cold it was. “It must be my frozen heart.”
“Here I thought that had melted just a little around the edges.”
“Oh, no.” Magnus couldn’t help but smirk. “All Limerians have frozen hearts. We melt into puddles in places like Auranos, with its relentless heat.”
“You’re making me miss Auranos. I love the warmth there. And the trees, the flowers . . . flowers everywhere. And the palace courtyard . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Magnus could see the wistfulness in her eyes. She took a seat on a fallen log, pulling her gloves off to warm her hands at the fire. Magnus sat down beside her, keeping his father in view.
“There are courtyards in Limeros,” he said.
She shook her head. “Not the same. Not nearly the same.”
“True. Are you thirsty?” He offered Cleo his waterskin.
She eyed it warily. “Does that contain water or wine?”
“Sadly, only water.”
“That’s too bad. I could use some wine today to help warm me up.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
His gloved fingers brushed against hers as Cleo took the waterskin from him. She took a long sip and handed it back. “Enzo and Milo have gone to kill the men who are following us, haven’t they?”
“They have. Does that bother you?”
“I think you may have suddenly confused me with the girl I was more than a year ago, one who would have shuddered to learn of such violence.”
He raised his brow. “And now?”
“No more shuddering. Just shivering.”
He had the urge to put his arm around her to help keep her warm, but kept his focus instead on the fire before them.
“Don’t worry, soon we’ll be back on our horses, headed for the even more frigid Reaches.” He picked up a stick and poked the small fire with it.
“How soon until we get there?”
“A day. Two at the most, as long as my father doesn’t drop off of his horse.”
“I wouldn’t mind witnessing that.”
He smiled at that visual. “Me neither.”
“What do you know of your grandmother? I know you haven’t seen her for many years, but do you remember anything that could be useful?”
He tried to think back to his childhood, which wasn’t a time he enjoyed dwelling on. “I was no more than five or six when I presumed she’d died . . . It was just after my grandfather had been buried. I can’t even remember anyone telling me that directly, but when people suddenly disappeared, I’d discovered that it usually meant they were dead. I remember a woman with black hair and a white streak right here . . .” He stroked a lock of Cleo’s hair that fell over her forehead, wishing he weren’t wearing leather gloves so he could actually touch her. “And I recall that she always wore a silver pendant of snakes twisting together.”
“Charming.”
“I actually liked it.”
“You would.” She flashed a smile, but it quickly disappeared. “Do you think your father has the air Kindred on him right now?”
The king was crouched by the river, his head lowered as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it upright. Magnus watched this frail version of the man he’d been afraid of all his life.
“Probably not. He likely hid it somewhere before he left.” He cocked his head, reconsidering her question. “Then again, he would fear someone might find it, so it’s very likely on his person.”
“So you’re saying you have no idea.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He snorted softly. “You have your Kindred, though.”
She held out her hand to show him the obsidian orb. “It saved our lives,” she said, gazing down at the black crystal. “We know it works—we’ve witnessed it cause two quakes. But I need more. We need more.”
“We’ll get more,” he assured her. “My father wouldn’t come all this way if he didn’t think my grandmother could be helpful. And I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think she might be a help in breaking the hateful curse on you.”
Her expression shadowed at the reminder. “We’ll see. Clearly, it’s possible to unleash the magic if Lucia is involved. She helped Kyan harness the fire Kindred’s power.”
The thought of it caused him near-physical pain. “Perhaps. But we don’t know that for sure.”
“How much farther will we be traveling?” he asked.
“We’re headed to the Reaches,” the king replied.
Magnus’s eyes widened. “The Reaches? So it seems my block-of-ice theory isn’t that far off after all.”
The Reaches was a stretch of land close to the Granite Coast, consisting mostly of frozen moors and icy valleys. It was the coldest place in all of Limeros. The ice there never melted, not even when those in the west experienced the brief temperate season that they considered summer. There was only one village located in the Reaches, and Magnus assumed that that frozen little town must be where Selia Damora had been kept hidden all this time.
The king didn’t divulge more information. He turned his back to Magnus and went to the river to fill his waterskin. Magnus walked over to Cleo, who had her fur-lined cloak pulled tightly around her face.
“How do you stand this temperature for so long?” she asked him.
He barely noticed how cold it was. “It must be my frozen heart.”
“Here I thought that had melted just a little around the edges.”
“Oh, no.” Magnus couldn’t help but smirk. “All Limerians have frozen hearts. We melt into puddles in places like Auranos, with its relentless heat.”
“You’re making me miss Auranos. I love the warmth there. And the trees, the flowers . . . flowers everywhere. And the palace courtyard . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Magnus could see the wistfulness in her eyes. She took a seat on a fallen log, pulling her gloves off to warm her hands at the fire. Magnus sat down beside her, keeping his father in view.
“There are courtyards in Limeros,” he said.
She shook her head. “Not the same. Not nearly the same.”
“True. Are you thirsty?” He offered Cleo his waterskin.
She eyed it warily. “Does that contain water or wine?”
“Sadly, only water.”
“That’s too bad. I could use some wine today to help warm me up.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
His gloved fingers brushed against hers as Cleo took the waterskin from him. She took a long sip and handed it back. “Enzo and Milo have gone to kill the men who are following us, haven’t they?”
“They have. Does that bother you?”
“I think you may have suddenly confused me with the girl I was more than a year ago, one who would have shuddered to learn of such violence.”
He raised his brow. “And now?”
“No more shuddering. Just shivering.”
He had the urge to put his arm around her to help keep her warm, but kept his focus instead on the fire before them.
“Don’t worry, soon we’ll be back on our horses, headed for the even more frigid Reaches.” He picked up a stick and poked the small fire with it.
“How soon until we get there?”
“A day. Two at the most, as long as my father doesn’t drop off of his horse.”
“I wouldn’t mind witnessing that.”
He smiled at that visual. “Me neither.”
“What do you know of your grandmother? I know you haven’t seen her for many years, but do you remember anything that could be useful?”
He tried to think back to his childhood, which wasn’t a time he enjoyed dwelling on. “I was no more than five or six when I presumed she’d died . . . It was just after my grandfather had been buried. I can’t even remember anyone telling me that directly, but when people suddenly disappeared, I’d discovered that it usually meant they were dead. I remember a woman with black hair and a white streak right here . . .” He stroked a lock of Cleo’s hair that fell over her forehead, wishing he weren’t wearing leather gloves so he could actually touch her. “And I recall that she always wore a silver pendant of snakes twisting together.”
“Charming.”
“I actually liked it.”
“You would.” She flashed a smile, but it quickly disappeared. “Do you think your father has the air Kindred on him right now?”
The king was crouched by the river, his head lowered as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it upright. Magnus watched this frail version of the man he’d been afraid of all his life.
“Probably not. He likely hid it somewhere before he left.” He cocked his head, reconsidering her question. “Then again, he would fear someone might find it, so it’s very likely on his person.”
“So you’re saying you have no idea.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He snorted softly. “You have your Kindred, though.”
She held out her hand to show him the obsidian orb. “It saved our lives,” she said, gazing down at the black crystal. “We know it works—we’ve witnessed it cause two quakes. But I need more. We need more.”
“We’ll get more,” he assured her. “My father wouldn’t come all this way if he didn’t think my grandmother could be helpful. And I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think she might be a help in breaking the hateful curse on you.”
Her expression shadowed at the reminder. “We’ll see. Clearly, it’s possible to unleash the magic if Lucia is involved. She helped Kyan harness the fire Kindred’s power.”
The thought of it caused him near-physical pain. “Perhaps. But we don’t know that for sure.”
