“My liege!”
Malek looked up from his paperwork, annoyed by the interruption. There had been a slew of unexplainable deaths in recent weeks, in cities all across the seas, a puzzle that nagged to be solved. But if Viktor was here, it was important. His aero’kine knew better than to barge in unannounced. “What?”
“They’re here.”
No explanation was necessary. Malek dropped the report and stood. “Where?”
“Close,” Viktor replied. “I sensed something cutting through the mist at rapid speed, too small to be a dragon based on the winds, but Isaak could feel flames. We don’t have visual confirmation yet, but it’s them. It must be.”
“Alert Jacinta and Nyomi, and ready the rest of the mages. We’ll only have one shot at taking them by surprise. I want you to concentrate on the raven, as planned. I’ll wait here for Lyana alone.”
“Yes, my liege.”
“And Viktor?” His aero’kine stopped in the doorway, looking stoic the way he’d been taught. “Good work.”
The barest twitch of lips was the only clue Viktor approved of the praise, at least to the outside observer, but Malek felt the thrill pass through his spirit. By the time his mage was gone, the king was already halfway to his balcony. Magic glittered around his palms as he gripped the metal banister and searched the gray expanse of the sky.
Where are you?
He’d been waiting for this moment for days, ever since he’d received the report from his dormi’kine. Lyana had moved into the House of Peace with her mages. She and the raven were inseparable. They knew the rumors. They believed them. He’d almost let Cassi go then, but it wasn’t in his nature to admit defeat. Malek was the King Born in Fire. He knew it in his bones, and if she’d only just return to him, Lyana would see it too.
So he devised a plan to lure her back.
And now she was here.
A flash of white seized his breath. The trail of smoldering flames in her wake struck like a knife. His chest burned.
Come to me, he thought. Come back to me.
They were made for each other.
They were meant to be.
Two aethi’kines with the most powerful magic in the world. Two aethi’kines destined to heal the rift. Two aethi’kines able to understand each other in a way no one else ever could.
They were the saviors.
They were the chosen king and queen.
He retreated into his study and waited. Lyana arrived first, her ivory wings fluttering as she landed gently on his balcony—the space only big enough for one body. Already his dreary world felt brighter.
Come closer, he silently willed.
She listened, stepping cautiously into the room, her voice soft despite the hard emerald sheen in her gaze. “Malek.”
Now, he thought, and magic exploded across the skies.