Cassius grabbed a glass and poured a drink from the sideboard, and moved to his desk. He was about to sit when he noticed a piece of parchment directly in front of him. He tended to be rather meticulous with his belongings, and he did not recall doing any writing recently.

With two fingertips, he dragged it closer to the edge of the table where he could read it more clearly. After the first read, he sank into his chair, tossing back what remained of his drink. Then he pulled the parchment close to his face and read the words again.

I have my mother.

I’ll be coming for my kingdom next.

And whatever cruelty you’ve shown to Novaya, I’ll make sure is visited upon you a thousandfold.

Aurora

Cassius sat back in his chair, a burn on his shoulder stinging at the contact with the wood. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in a ghost of a smile.

It seemed he still had one thing tying him to this place after all.

Those with the gift of water were often lonesome creatures, for they knew the depths of the ocean and the farthest reaches of the world in a way no other could.

—An Examination of the Original Magics

12

Thirteen Years Earlier

Cruze was not sure of the days any longer. More than a dozen had passed, of that he was certain, but sometimes the days and nights blurred during tempests and it was difficult to know the difference when dark clouds blocked out the sun for endless lengths of time.

The numbers of those he had been stranded with were beginning to dwindle quickly, and he did not allow himself to think too long on the loss. His father used to tell him that only the strong survived, and the rest did not matter. That was back when his father still visited … before he decided that Cruze was not one of the strong ones.

But Cruze would show him. Someday. He would start by proving himself here in this jungle.

Of those that were left, there was him and the girl Kess, the one with the bruise on her neck, though that had nearly faded away completely now. There was also a tall boy with dark skin, and a younger boy he had taken under his wing. One other girl remained, with dark red hair and a mottled purple-and-red mark around her eye that Cruze had assumed was a terrible bruise in the early days. But the color had remained exactly the same, so he guessed now it was a birthmark of sorts.

It was her, the one with the mark, who made Cruze finally understand why all the others had been taken. He saw her save herself in a way that should not have been possible.