name,” Lucia said, surprised.
“Yes, it is. And it was Eva who gave the prophecy with her last breath before she died—that the next sorceress would be born in a thousand years—a mortal girl who would wield
elementia
as she could. It is you. King Gaius knew of this prophecy all this time. He knew what you were to become. That is why he raised you as his own daughter.”
Lucia’s mind tripped over itself in an effort to keep up with him. “What happened to Eva? How could an immortal Watcher die?”
“She made a mistake that cost her life.”
“What?”
A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “She fell in love with the wrong boy—a mortal hunter who led her astray and away from her home and those who protected her. He destroyed her.”
Lucia realized that she’d drawn even closer to Alexius without realizing it, so close that when he turned to face her again his sleeve brushed her arm. Despite this being a dream, she swore she felt the heat of his skin against hers.
She took a shaky step back from him.
Lucia had always been one to soak up books and information, her mind hungry for more than her tutors wanted to teach her. And no one seemed to know much about
elementia
, since magic was mostly considered legend, apart from some accused witches. Even Sabina, who proclaimed herself to be a witch, had shown no true sign of magic to Lucia—at least, not enough to defend herself when Lucia had protected herself and Magnus from that evil woman.
You didn’t have to kill her
, a little voice said inside of her. The same voice that had tortured her ever since it happened. The memory of Sabina’s lifeless, charred body dropping to the floor flooded through her mind yet again.
“Tell me more, Alexius,” Lucia whispered. “Tell me everything.”
He raked a hand through his bronze hair, his expression growing uncertain. “It was a long time ago that Eva lived. Memories of her grow unclear, even for me.”
“But it was a thousand years ago that she gave the prophecy with her last breath. Didn’t you say that?”
“Yes. The same time the Kindred were lost to us.”
Her breath caught. “You have unclear memories of a sorceress who lived and breathed a thousand years ago. How old are you?”
“I already told you, princess. Old.”
“Yes, but exactly
how
old?”
He hesitated, but only briefly. “Two thousand years.”
She stared at him in shock. “You’re not old. You’re an ancient relic.”
He raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging again at his lips. “And you are sixteen mortal years. A mere child.”
“I’m not a child!”
“You are.”
Lucia groaned with frustration. Such arguments were getting her nowhere, as were thoughts of how it was possible a two-thousand-year-old Watcher could appear so young and attractive—more so than any other boy she’d ever known. She had to focus on gaining more knowledge, more information that could help her. She pointed toward the city. “I want to go there. I want to talk to someone, someone whose memories aren’t unclear about what exactly happened with the last sorceress, who she was, what she did . . . anything!”
“That’s impossible, princess. This is a dream, and like I said, this is only a copy of what is real. And even if it wasn’t, mortals do not enter the Sanctuary, just as Watchers do not leave it, unless in the form of a hawk.”
This might be a real conversation, but it was still within the confines of a dream. What she saw before her had no more weight in reality than a painting or sketch. She thought of Alexius’s hawk form and how he used it to travel to the mortal world to spy on her. It was an unsettling thought that he’d been watching her since she was only a baby.
“It is such a gift to take the form of something that can fly,” she finally said.
“A gift,” he said softly, and something sharp and pained in his voice tugged at her heart. “Or a curse. I suppose it depends entirely on how you look at
“Yes, it is. And it was Eva who gave the prophecy with her last breath before she died—that the next sorceress would be born in a thousand years—a mortal girl who would wield
elementia
as she could. It is you. King Gaius knew of this prophecy all this time. He knew what you were to become. That is why he raised you as his own daughter.”
Lucia’s mind tripped over itself in an effort to keep up with him. “What happened to Eva? How could an immortal Watcher die?”
“She made a mistake that cost her life.”
“What?”
A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “She fell in love with the wrong boy—a mortal hunter who led her astray and away from her home and those who protected her. He destroyed her.”
Lucia realized that she’d drawn even closer to Alexius without realizing it, so close that when he turned to face her again his sleeve brushed her arm. Despite this being a dream, she swore she felt the heat of his skin against hers.
She took a shaky step back from him.
Lucia had always been one to soak up books and information, her mind hungry for more than her tutors wanted to teach her. And no one seemed to know much about
elementia
, since magic was mostly considered legend, apart from some accused witches. Even Sabina, who proclaimed herself to be a witch, had shown no true sign of magic to Lucia—at least, not enough to defend herself when Lucia had protected herself and Magnus from that evil woman.
You didn’t have to kill her
, a little voice said inside of her. The same voice that had tortured her ever since it happened. The memory of Sabina’s lifeless, charred body dropping to the floor flooded through her mind yet again.
“Tell me more, Alexius,” Lucia whispered. “Tell me everything.”
He raked a hand through his bronze hair, his expression growing uncertain. “It was a long time ago that Eva lived. Memories of her grow unclear, even for me.”
“But it was a thousand years ago that she gave the prophecy with her last breath. Didn’t you say that?”
“Yes. The same time the Kindred were lost to us.”
Her breath caught. “You have unclear memories of a sorceress who lived and breathed a thousand years ago. How old are you?”
“I already told you, princess. Old.”
“Yes, but exactly
how
old?”
He hesitated, but only briefly. “Two thousand years.”
She stared at him in shock. “You’re not old. You’re an ancient relic.”
He raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging again at his lips. “And you are sixteen mortal years. A mere child.”
“I’m not a child!”
“You are.”
Lucia groaned with frustration. Such arguments were getting her nowhere, as were thoughts of how it was possible a two-thousand-year-old Watcher could appear so young and attractive—more so than any other boy she’d ever known. She had to focus on gaining more knowledge, more information that could help her. She pointed toward the city. “I want to go there. I want to talk to someone, someone whose memories aren’t unclear about what exactly happened with the last sorceress, who she was, what she did . . . anything!”
“That’s impossible, princess. This is a dream, and like I said, this is only a copy of what is real. And even if it wasn’t, mortals do not enter the Sanctuary, just as Watchers do not leave it, unless in the form of a hawk.”
This might be a real conversation, but it was still within the confines of a dream. What she saw before her had no more weight in reality than a painting or sketch. She thought of Alexius’s hawk form and how he used it to travel to the mortal world to spy on her. It was an unsettling thought that he’d been watching her since she was only a baby.
“It is such a gift to take the form of something that can fly,” she finally said.
“A gift,” he said softly, and something sharp and pained in his voice tugged at her heart. “Or a curse. I suppose it depends entirely on how you look at
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