Magnus glanced at Cleo. She held her arms across the bodice of her rose-colored gown, which was far fancier than anything typically worn on a walk through a thick forest on a hot day. She regarded him with a silent, sour expression—not a new look for her by any means.

“And why are you here?” he asked her.

“I want to help,” she replied.

“Oh, yes. So helpful.” If Lucia honestly believed this duplicitous creature was a true friend to her, she was a fool. For all her rigid upbringing and the lack of love and guidance from her cold and calculating mother, Lucia could be so unforgivably naïve. “How convenient it is that you’re along for the ride today. With your interest in the Kindred and all.”

“Of course I’m interested in the Kindred,” Cleo replied quickly. “I live in Mytica and have heard the legends and stories all my life. However, I didn’t know it was all true until just the other day.”

She said it with such confidence, even Magnus almost believed her.

Almost.

Magnus looked at Lucia. “You should have told me about this.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh. But they used to share so much, it pained him that she hadn’t trusted him.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you. But I know how close you’ve become with Father lately. You two are practically inseparable.”

“That is vastly overstating matters.”

“Magnus is right,” Cleo said. “He doesn’t spend all his time with the king. Some of his time—or at least some of his nights—are spent with Princess Amara.”

Lucia looked at him, shocked. “You and Amara?”

He’d spent only the one night with the Kraeshian princess. She hadn’t made contact with him since returning to her villa and it hadn’t bothered him one bit. She’d been a pleasant distraction, nothing more than that. But no one had to know that but him.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Magnus said. “Amara is irresistible. We do have so much in common. That girl is full of possibilities.”

He half expected a retort from Cleo, but she stayed silent.

“If you say so.” A new frown creased Lucia’s brow. She turned to Alexius. “I want Magnus to be a part of this. I trust him not to say anything to Father.”

Lucia’s words tugged at Magnus’s heart. She still cared about him, trusted him, even though he couldn’t think of many reasons why she should.

Alexius said nothing, keeping his gaze fixed on Magnus. There was something in the Watcher’s eyes that seemed far more ancient than his otherwise youthful appearance. “As you wish,” he said at last.

Lucia nodded and turned her attention to Magnus. “Father can’t know. Promise me, Magnus. He can’t know about this.”

“Oh, I promise,” Magnus replied. “Father will never possess even one crystal now that I know they have much more important purposes.”

Although, not the important purposes Lucia believed in.

But first he needed to see it, to prove to himself it was real. Then he’d figure out what to do next. If this journey led to nothing, he could use this as a means to get rid of Alexius, to soil the Watcher’s reputation in the eyes of the king. Just another useless boy with his goals set on the king’s daughter.

He knew that Alexius and Lucia could be extremely dangerous if provoked or betrayed. And Cleo . . . well, he didn’t underestimate her, either.

“Let’s keep moving,” Alexius said. “We’re almost there.”

Alexius and Lucia walked ahead and Magnus trailed behind them with Cleo, who walked slowly, as if treading on broken glass.

“Trouble with your shoes? Are they too tight for the long walk?” he asked, eyeing the fine golden sandals that peeked out from beneath her skirts.

Her jaw clenched. “Not at all.”

“Good. I’d hate to think you were in constant pain due to your poor choices.”

They continued on in silence. Magnus tried to ignore the uncomfortable heat and resisted the urge to remove his jacket. And, frankly, his boots were rather uncomfortable as well.

It was an unpleasant day, but one made infinitely tolerable because it might lead to triumph.

They were so close, and now the king would never lay his hands on what he wanted most. That single thought gave Magnus more pleasure than he’d felt in months—or even years.

Finally, they arrived. The Temple of Cleiona had been a massive structure of white marble, thick pillars, and stone carved with artistic precision. It had been the grandest and most impressive structure that Magnus had ever seen in his life. When he’d come here for the first time, it had actually taken his breath away.

Now it lay in ruins. The large statue of the goddess out front had crashed to the ground during the earthquake and in pieces. A massive crack split the marble floor down the center. The ceiling was mostly caved in.

The site of his marriage to Cleo had been abandoned. Where once many had come to pray, there was now but the four of them.

“You’re certain a crystal is here?” Magnus said, still finding it hard to believe that they could be so close.

“I’m certain.” Lucia held out her hand, and Magnus noticed that she wore a familiar ring—the ring he’d often seen Cleo wearing. “I used this ring to help awaken it in this place of power. And now we can claim it through a ritual.”

The ring.

Magnus fought to keep his expression neutral. Phaedra, the Watcher in Paelsia, told him about a ring that could help Lucia control her magic.