Rebel Spring

“I mean you no harm.”

Why would she believe him? She clenched her fist and summoned fire magic. Her hand burst into flame.

“I don’t know you. Stop right where you are or I swear I will defend myself!”

He did as she asked, now only five paces from her. He cocked his head and studied her hand as if fascinated. “Fire magic is the most unpredictable piece of elementia. You should be careful how you choose to wield it.”

“And you should be careful whom you approach unannounced if you don’t want to get burned.”

She tried to sound calm, but he had taken her by surprise. Now all she could do was stare at the single most beautiful boy she’d seen in her entire life. Tall and lean, with golden skin, his hair burnished bronze, his eyes the color of dark silver. He wore a loose white shirt and white pants and he stood barefoot upon the soft, shimmering grass.

“I witnessed what you did to the witch when your powers fully awakened,” he said casually, as if they were having a regular conversation. “The king’s mistress tried to force you to use your elementia in her presence. You reduced her to ash.”

She felt a wave of nausea at the mention of Sabina’s horrific death. The stench of burning flesh still haunted her. “How is it possible you witnessed such a thing?”

“You’d be surprised what I know about you, princess.” His voice was liquid gold, and it caused a shiver to race through her. “My name is Alexius. I am one of those known to mortals as Watchers. I’ve . . . watched over you since you were an infant.”

“Watcher.” The word caught in her throat and her gaze snapped to his. “You’re a Watcher?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe in such stories.”

“They’re not stories.” He frowned. “Well, I suppose they are stories, but that doesn’t mean they’re not true. Believe me, princess, I’m very real. Every bit as real as you are.”

Impossible. He was far too unreal, just as this meadow was. She’d never seen anything like him before in her life.

She kept her fist clenched and burning. “And this place? You said it’s the Sanctuary?”

He glanced around before his gaze again locked with hers. “This is only a copy of what my home looks like. I’m visiting you in your dreams. I needed to see you, to introduce myself, and to tell you that I can be of assistance to you. I have wanted to do this for so long, but finally I’m very happy to meet you face to face.”

Then he smiled—such a genuine, open, beautiful smile—and Lucia’s heart skipped a beat.

No. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by such things. Her head swam with what he’d said so far, and his very presence had her off balance.

In Limeros, only books that held facts, that held solid truths, were permitted by the king in the palace to educate his children. But Lucia had been born with a desire for knowledge of all kinds, beyond that which was allowed. She’d managed to get her hands on forbidden childhood storybooks, in which she’d learned the legends of Watchers and the Sanctuary. She’d read the stories about their ability to enter the dreams of mortals. But that was all it was—only stories.

This couldn’t be real. Could it?

“If you’ve watched over me for as long as you say—” It seemed utterly impossible that he had. He couldn’t be much older than she was. “—then why have you only introduced yourself now?”

“It wasn’t the right time before.” His lips quirked. “Although, believe me, of those of my kind, I am not the most patient. It’s been difficult to wait, but I’m introducing myself now. I can help you, princess—and you can help me.”

He spoke nonsense. If he really was a Watcher, an immortal being who lived in a world apart from that of mortals, why would he need the help of a sixteen-year-old girl?

Then again, she realized, she was no regular sixteen-year-old girl, as she’d readily proven by lighting her fist ablaze with a mere thought.

“I don’t believe anything you say to me.” She put as much conviction into her words as she could muster, even though she had a sudden desire to learn as much as she could about Alexius. “Watchers—they’re only legend, and this . . . this is just a silly dream. I’m dreaming you, that’s all. You’re nothing but a figment of my imagination.”

She’d never realized her imagination was this incredible.

Alexius crossed his arms, studying her with both interest and an edge of frustration, but didn’t attempt to get any closer. He looked again at her clenched fist, which continued to burn like a torch. It caused her no discomfort, only a slight warm sensation. “I thought this would be easier.”

She laughed at that, the sound raw in her throat. “There’s nothing easy about this, Alexius. I want to wake up. I want out of this dream.”

But how could it be a dream when it felt so real? She could smell the flowers, she felt the ground beneath beneath her bare feet, the damp sponginess of the moss, the ticklish spears of grass. No dream had ever been this vivid. And what was that crystal city just over the hill? There was nothing like it in the mortal world—or like this strange and magical meadow. She would have heard of something so astonishing. Even in the books describing the legends about Watchers, she’d never seen an illustration or description of such a city.

He followed her line of sight. “That is where we live.”