Morgan Rhodes - Rebel Spring

Where is Lysandra?

It was his first coherent thought.

He strained his eyes to find her, to find any rebels, but he saw no one apart from those that lay dead on the ground. He couldn’t count. He wasn’t sure how many had fallen.

The body of a dead girl with long, dark hair lay across his path, an arrow pierced through her heart. He stopped breathing completely at the sight of her.

“No. Please, no.” He crouched down, pushing her hair off her face.

But it was not Lysandra. It was Onoria.

A loss. . a horrible loss to them all. Onoria was an incredibly brave and clever rebel.

After closing her eyes, he got up quickly and ducked behind a tent. He couldn’t stay here. If he did, he would be killed, either by the fire that continued to rage or by a guard.

“Lys,” he whispered. “Where are you? Damn it. Where?”

She had to be alive. Lysandra Barbas was not meant to die tonight.

No, he decided firmly. She was alive.

And if she was, he would find her.

LYSANDRA

AURANOS

Lysandra stumbled as a guard shoved her into a dark and crowded cell, and she fell hard to the dirt floor. The stone walls were damp and smelled of mildew and death. At the top of the tall wall, there was a small window no bigger than her hand, just large enough to let in a ray of sunshine, taunting her with the freedom that had finally been stolen from her.

Only five of them had made it to their destination alive. Phineas had spoken up during the trip to the Auranian dungeon, mouthed off to a guard, and had his throat cut immediately, his body tossed off the side of a bridge.

The rest remained silent after this. Lysandra held tightly on to Tarus’s sweaty hand most of the way. The young boy was terrified, but he tried to be brave. For her. She didn’t know what had become of Jonas, but she refused to believe he was dead.

Why? So many of them had fallen.

But maybe Jonas was one of those who’d gotten away. Maybe he was, even now, mounting a rescue attempt.

No. She wouldn’t let herself think of such things that could only lead to disappointment.

If she was going to get out of here, she’d have to do it herself.

Somehow.

She looked up at the tiny window bleakly. It was hopeless and she knew it. A tear slid down her cheek.

“Little Lys, don’t cry.” The familiar voice reached out from the darkness.

Her head snapped to the boy sitting in the corner.

“Gregor?” She couldn’t believe her own eyes. She ran to her brother’s side, dropping down next to him. She grabbed his dirty hands in hers to prove this was real. “You’re here. You’re alive!”

“Barely.” He tried to smile. “It’s so good to see you, sister.”

“I thought you were dead! I searched for you in the road camps, but I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

“I escaped and made my way to Limeros but was captured a couple weeks ago. They carted me all the way here on orders from the prince himself. Been in here ever since. Not much longer, though. I think they’re finally finished asking me questions. They never seem satisfied with my answers. Only my death will please them now.”

“Don’t talk like that. This is what I needed, Gregor.” Her heart grew lighter than it had in days. In weeks! “This is the sign I needed that everything’s going to be all right. We’re alive, we’re together again, and we’re going to get out of this.”

His gaze grew distant. “That’s what she told me, too. She always told me to have hope. I wish I could see her again, but she hasn’t visited me for weeks.”

Lysandra glanced around the small, stinking cell, her gaze moving over the other prisoners, some of whom were sleeping. “See who?”

“The girl made of gold and silver.”

“What?”

“She told me her name is Phaedra. She’s visited me in my dreams, told me to be patient. That I will find new hope. I figure she must have been talking about you. They put you in my cell, Lys. Mine . In a place as big as this-that has to mean something, right?”

“Who is she? What do you mean she visited you in your dreams?”

He looked past her, his expression wistful. “She’s a Watcher, little Lys. She told me not to despair. That I could still make a difference. . and that there were others like me who could help. I thought she was mad.”

“A Watcher visited you in your dreams,” Lysandra said with disbelief. “Perhaps she’s not the one who’s mad.”

He laughed, the sound dry and brittle. “You could be right.”

“What else did this Watcher tell you?”

Gregor’s brows drew together and he squeezed Lysandra’s hands. “She said when the sorceress’s blood is spilled and the sacrifice is made, they will finally be free.” Her brother’s haunted eyes met hers. “And the world will burn. That’s what she said, little Lys. The world will burn .”

CLEO

AURANOS

“My son has returned to the palace.” The king’s words wrapped around Cleo’s throat like an icy glove, stopping her in her tracks as she moved through the halls. “I’m sure you’ve greatly anticipated his return.”

She turned slowly to see King Gaius standing in the shadows, accompanied by Cronus and his dreadful hunting dogs.

“With bated breath, your majesty.”

“He captured a group of rebels who attacked one of my road camps. Those that did not fall under his blade have accompanied him back here for public execution.”

Jonas. Her heart skipped a beat with both dread and anticipation.

“I feel safer already.” She forced a smile to her lips.

“I’m sure you do.” The king studied her with those cold, serpentine eyes. “I’m watching you, princess.”

“As I am watching you,” she replied sweetly.

“Remember one very important thing. You have no power here and you never will again. You continue to live at my whim, but I can take that courtesy away at any time without warning-just as I did with your little friend. What was her name again? Mira?”

Her blood turned to ice. “Good day, your majesty.”

She continued down the hall smoothly until she turned the next corner. There she pressed up against the wall and commanded herself to stop trembling.

“He will not defeat me,” she whispered, angrily wiping her tears away. “He thinks he has power, but it’s sand falling through his fingers. He will lose it all and have nothing left.”

But she knew her days were numbered. The wedding tour was over. The shine of the false “romance” between Magnus and herself had begun to fade. Her allies had dwindled to two boys-one who couldn’t bear to look her in the eye after her rejection of him, and another who might be dead or bound for execution.

Cleo rubbed her ring, staring down at it and praying-though not to the Goddess Cleiona, not after what she’d learned of the thieving, power-hungry Watcher-for a way through the darkness that stretched out before her. “Please. Father, please help me. I don’t know what to do. Am I a fool to believe that I have any chance against someone like King Gaius?”

The book Song of the Sorceress had told her more about Eva-that she could work magic with all four elements as easy as breathing. And at the end of the book there were two lines that had stayed with Cleo.

A thousand years after her death, the sorceress shall be reborn as a mortal beyond the Sanctuary’s veil. Once awakened, her magic will reveal the hidden treasure sought by both mortals and immortals alike.

Eva had been killed by her greedy sisters, Cleiona and Valoria, who’d stolen the Kindred and used its power to become goddesses.