All that matters is that Im here now. Frankly, Im a little surprised youre still in Basilia after all this time.

I could never give up the profits of my tavern"each year is better than the last. So many sailors with coin to spend and thirst to quench.

Many thirsts, Im sure.

Dariah winked. Exactly. She turned toward Magnus. And who is this young man?

This is my grandson, Magnus. Magnus, this is my friend Dariah Gallo.

A pleasure. Magnus forced the best smile he could onto his face, but he knew it would look more like a grimace.

Oh, my. Your grandson has grown so very tall and handsome.

Selia smiled. Yes, grandsons sometimes do that by the time they reach eighteen.

Dariah swept her wrinkled gaze over the length of him. If I were younger . . .

If you were younger, you would have to fight his pretty young wife for his attentions.

Dariah laughed. And perhaps Id win.

Magnus suddenly longed to return to the book about Paelsian wine.

Selia joined her friend in her laughter, then once again adopted a serious but good-natured tone. I havent only come to Basilia for a reconnection between old friends. I need information on how to acquire the bloodstone.

Dariah raised her eyebrows. Goodness, Selia, you waste no time.

I have no time to waste. My power has faded over the years, and my son is dying.

In the stretch of silence that followed, Magnus stayed quiet. This stone, if it was real, sounded like something that could aid him in increasing his power, like the Kindred.

Selia drew Dariah over toward the bookshelf. She motioned for her to sit down on a wooden bench next to her, then took the other witchs hands in hers. There is no choice. I need it.

You know I dont have it.

No. But you know who does.

Dariah shook her head. I cant do this.

Im asking you to contact him"I know you can find him. He needs to arrive as quickly as possible.

A thousand questions prodded at Magnus, but he stayed silent, listening.

Power like this potentially delivered right into his very hands. It sounded much simpler than the complicated process of finding the Kindred.

The witchs expression darkened. Hell never let you have it, not even for a moment.

Selias grip on her friends hands tightened. Let me handle him when he gets here.

I dont know . . .

Selias eyes narrowed. I know its been a very long time, but I feel I must mention the favor you owe me. A favor you promised to repay in full.

Dariah looked down at the floor.

Magnus watched, barely breathing. The witch slowly looked up again, her face pale. She nodded with a small jerk of her head. It will take time to draw him here.

He has three days. Will that be a problem?

The witchs jaw tensed as she rose to her feet. No.

Thank you. Selia stood and kissed Dariah on both of her cheeks. I knew you would help me.

The smile of their greeting was now nothing more than a memory. I will alert you the moment he arrives.

Dariah didnt linger"with a last look at Selia and Magnus, she left the inn.

Well, Magnus said after all had gone silent again. That must have been quite the favor you did for your friend.

It was. Selia glanced at Magnus, a small smile on her lips. I shall now check on your father. His health is my only concern right now. Soon, when my magic is restored and he is well again, we can face the other obstacles that stand in our way.

I will strive for patience, Magnus said, knowing he would surely fail at this.

By now, night had fallen, and Magnus retired to his small private room. It had a full-size bed rather than the unacceptable cots in the communal sleeping area down the hall. The window gave him a second-floor view of the street outside, lit with lanterns and, even after nightfall, busy with citizens and visitors to the city.

There was a soft knock at his door. Enter, Magnus said, knowing it could only be one of the four people with whom hed traveled to Paelsia.

The door opened slowly, and as the visitor revealed herself, Magnuss heart began to thud hard against his chest. Cleo peered in at him.

He stood up and met her in the doorway. My grandmothers friend was here.

Already? Her brows raised. And?

And . . . He shook his head. It seems that we are forced to wait here for three days.

She can get the bloodstone, though?

Yes, Magnus replied. Ive only just been reunited with my grandmother, but she strikes me as the sort of woman who can get pretty much anything she wants.

And this is all so that this magical stone will save your fathers life. Cleo said this without emotion, but a hardness had formed behind her aquamarine eyes.

He doesnt deserve to live, Magnus said, agreeing with what was left unspoken. But this must be a necessary measure on the way to our ultimate goal.

Finding Lucia.

Yes. And breaking your curse.

She nodded. I suppose theres no other way.

He watched her carefully. Was it only information you came to my room seeking, or is there something else you require this evening?

Cleo raised her chin so she could look him directly in his eyes. Actually, I need your help.

With what?

All the riding weve been doing. Its done horrific things to my hair.

Magnus raised a brow. And . . . you came here needing my help to chop it all off so its no longer a problem?

As if youd allow that. She grinned. Youre obsessed with my hair.

Id hardly call it an obsession. He twisted a lock of the warm golden silk around his finger. More like an often painful distraction.

I apologize for your suffering. But you will not be cutting my hair, tonight or ever. The innkeepers wife was kind enough to give me this. She presented him with a silver-handled hairbrush.

He took it from her, looking at it quizzically. You want me to . . . ?

Cleo nodded. Brush my hair.

Just the thought of it was ludicrous. Now that Im forced to dress as a common Paelsian, you mistake me for your servant?

She shot him a determined look. Its not as if I can ask Milo or Enzo . . . or, for goddesss sake, your father or grandmother to help me.

What about the innkeepers wife?

Fine. Cleo snatched the brush back from him with a scowl. Ill go ask her.

No, no. He let out a sigh, half-amused now. Ill help.

Without hesitation, she returned the brush to him. Im glad to hear it.

He stepped aside to make way for her. She walked in, sat on the end of his cot, and looked at him expectantly. Close the door, she said.

Not a good idea. Magnus left the door ajar and slowly came to sit behind her. Awkwardly and with great trepidation, as if about to skin and clean an animal for the first time, he held the delicate brush up to her hair. Ive never done this before.

Theres a first time for everything.

What a ridiculous sight it must have been: Magnus Damora, son of the King of Blood, brushing a young womans hair at her request.

And yet . . .

Whenever Magnus took on a task, he preferred to do so thoroughly, to the fullest extent of his abilities. He applied himself in the same way now as he took up a lock of Cleos long, silky hair in his grip and slid the brush down the length of it. The warmth of her hair slid through his fingers, making a pleasant shiver course down his spine.

Youre right, he told her, his voice low. Horribly tangled. Irreparably so, I think.

He was only teasing her"her hair was perfect, just as it always was"but then he came to the first knot.

She winced. Ouch.

Apologies. He froze in place, but then frowned. However, you did ask me to do this.

Yes, of course I know that! She sighed. Please continue. Im used to being tortured by my attendants, and theyre used to ignoring my wails of pain. You cant possibly hurt me any more than they have. Only Nerissa has the skill to do this without pain.

Yes, Ive heard how very skilled Nerissa is, Magnus said, unable to keep from grinning. Now, having a more complete picture of Cleos hair-brushing history, he tackled the task at hand with more determination. So much hair, so many opportunities for tangles. Why do women bother?

Perhaps I should braid it like a Paelsian chieftain?

Yes, I imagine that would be a look befitting an Auranian princess, even one forced to wear an ugly cotton dress, he said drily, not letting on how amused he was by the image. Every girl in Mytica would want to copy it. As gently as possible, he worked the brush through another section of hair that currently resembled a pale yellow birds nest. You should know, I mean to claim the bloodstone for myself.

I assumed so, she replied.

That surprised him. You did?

She nodded, and the hair slipped out of his hands, covering the tantalizingly bare nape of her neck. I saw it in your eyes when Selia first mentioned it. It was the same look I saw in your fathers eyes.

And what look is that?

It doesnt matter.

Magnus put the brush down. Gently, he guided Cleo by the shoulders until she was mostly facing him, then took her chin gently in his hand. Yes, it does. What look did my father and I share?

She met his gaze with hers, her expression now wary. A look of icy greed, like this stone is something you would kill for.

I see.

She searched his face, as if seeking answers there. In that moment, you looked so cold and so much like your father"I . . . didnt like it.

All his life, hed been told how much he was like his father"in both looks and temperament. Eventually hed learned to stop fighting those comparisons, though they never ceased to unsettle him.

I must admit, lately I find I do need to be like my father. There are certain situations that practically require me to be as cold and ruthless as possible. If I were to have shed tears over every life Ive taken over the last year, Id have dried to a husk long ago. So, yes. I suppose I am quite like my father in many ways.

No. Cleo shook her head. Thats impossible.

Why do you say that?

Honestly? She drew closer to him, cupping his face in her hands. Because Ive never wanted to do this to your father.

She brushed her lips softly against his. A small, tortured groan came from the back of his throat as he forced himself to make fists with his hands at his sides to stop himself from taking hold of her immediately.

Princess . . .

Cleiona . . . she corrected him, her lips still far too dangerously close to his. Although, I must admit that I no longer fully appreciate having been given the full name of an immortal who stole and murdered for her power.

True leaders often must be ruthless enough to steal and murder. If they dont, someone else will.

A charming philosophy, all too true, Im afraid. But perhaps we can think of something else for you to call me when were alone together.

He raised a brow. Ill consider it.