Phoenix Flame

by Sara Holland

  Maybe not, though. Taya is still a shapeshifter, and that would have been hard to hide no matter what.

  A palette of subtle expressions plays across Taya’s face. Her eyes grow distant, and the corners of her mouth turn up. But there’s a solemnity there too, a wistfulness.

  “I’ll tell you about it,” she says, voice dreamy. She glances at Nahteran. “I’ll tell you both. I promise. But not right now. It’s a long story, and a good one if I do say so myself. I want to tell it when there’s not an ax hanging over all our heads.” She catches my eye and smiles.

  I smile back. It’s weird—it makes my chest ache a little, but not in a bad way. I know how it feels to have things you don’t want to talk about. Sometimes because it hurts too much, but other times because you just don’t have the words. For her, I hope it’s the latter.

  “Fair enough.”

  Nahteran picks at his food, shoulders hunched. Something occurs to me. Back in Marcus’s office, he didn’t really say much after relaying the Silver Prince’s message. But surely he has an opinion.

  “Do you think we should take the deal, Nahteran?” I ask quietly. “Trade the armor in for Mom?”

  He blinks, the only indication that he’s heard me. He’s scarcely touched his food, except for disassembling all the rolls, tearing the tortillas and meat and cheese into pieces, and piling them on opposite sides of his plate.

  “Nahteran,” I press. I know he’s been through a lot. I know he doesn’t want to talk about it, but we only have two days left before the Silver Prince kills Mom. “You know the Prince better than any of us.”

  He takes a long sip of the blue Byrnisian tea before finally answering.

  “The Silver Prince is obsessed with finding a way between the worlds,” my brother says, his voice gone quiet and flat like it was at Winterkill, when he was telling me what happened to him. “The Silver Prince always has been, even before he tried to take over Havenfall, because he knew that might not work. But after you guys beat him back, he became even more obsessed with phoenix flame. He didn’t want to blow up the soul trade by stealing Cadius’s armor—he needs the trade to exist—but he wanted to make a suit of his own. He thinks if he just has a way through, he’ll be able to take over and rule all the Realms.” Nahteran’s eyes rove around us. “But since the trade hub at Winterkill is shot to hell now, I guess he thinks he might as well steal the armor after all.”

  I exchange a glance with Taya, then look back at Nahteran. “Well, that’s … a lot,” I say, my mouth dry. “So you’re saying we shouldn’t give it to him?”

  Nahteran shakes his head once, hard. “I’m saying it doesn’t matter. If we don’t, he’ll find another way. The armor can’t be the only phoenix flame in Winterkill, and he has people out searching for more. There are legends that Byrn once had a place like Havenfall, with multiple doorways, and he’s looking for that too. If that doesn’t work, he’ll find something else.” Nahteran takes a deep breath. “One way or another, he’ll do it someday. He’ll get through.”

  “Is he angry with you?” I ask softly.

  After a moment, Nahteran jerks his head in a nod. I think I see a shudder rip through him.

  We’re all silent while that sinks in. Sometime in the last few minutes, the distant music from the ballroom has stopped, the dancing wrapping up. Somehow, the silence makes the inn feel darker too. And colder.

  My Cheerios taste like cardboard all of a sudden. I push them away and pull my tea to me instead. “So you were looking for the armor too, when I found you at Winterkill.”

  Nahteran inclines his head by a fraction of an inch. The slightest of nods.

  “And you were going to give it to him.”

  The skin around his eyes tightens. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

  There’s always a choice, I think, but don’t say. I wish you had sent us a message. We could have helped you. I missed you.

  “I just figured …” But I trail off. I don’t know how to put my thoughts into words. I don’t know what I’d figured.

  “Besides,” Nate says. “Would it really be so bad if there were more doorways?”

  “What do you mean?” I feel cold. I stick my hands in my lap so Nahteran won’t see them tremble. “Aren’t you worried about what could happen if the Silver Prince could travel wherever he wanted? Anyone could.”

  “That’s exactly what he wants to do,” Nahteran says slowly, like it should be obvious. “Our people need to spread out, Maddie … Oasis is getting more crowded every day. The storms outside its walls are getting worse. People are suffering.”

  He looks down, real feeling coloring his voice. “I mean, the Silver Prince doesn’t care. Of course he doesn’t. But everyone is looking for a back door. Even the Prince won’t be able to keep Oasis safe and comfortable forever. He needs to find new territory. Someplace for everyone to go.”

  “And he thinks Earth could be that place?”

  I hear the anger leaking into my voice, not rising yet, but roiling under the surface. Nahteran hears it too and drops his gaze, a pink tint appearing in his cheeks.

  “Do you think that too? That we should just roll over and give the Silver Prince whatever he wants?”

  Anger has leached into my tone, but Nahteran’s reply has none.

  “You don’t know him,” he says, and again I hear that hollowness, the echoing of years of history I both do and don’t want to know about. “He’ll get what he wants, Maddie. He always does. Better to just stay on his good side and try to protect the ones you love.”

  18

  That night, I can’t sleep. So I do what I sometimes used to do as a kid and sneak up to the east balcony. I can always count on the fresh air and the scatter of stars to calm my nerves.

  But not tonight. Because someone is already here. Nahteran.

  He turns to me and smiles, seeming unsurprised to see me. Did we come here together as kids, ever? I can’t remember.

  I’m shaken to see him, still disturbed about the stuff he said in the kitchen. That the Silver Prince plans to infiltrate Earth, and how inevitable Nahteran seemed to think it was—so inevitable that my brother was planning to help him. But I still can’t bring myself to fully hold a grudge against Nahteran. I pad over to him.

  He is standing with his hands on the stone railing, looking out at the mountains and the reflection of Havenfall in Mirror Lake. He looks tired. There are dark circles beneath his eyes. I wonder how much he’s slept since we parted ways in Winterkill. Probably even less than me. He traveled to another Realm to find Taya. I wonder how he found her—one person he hadn’t seen in fourteen years, among a whole world of Solarians.

  Being in Solaria clearly meant something to her. I wonder if it did for Nahteran as well. If he had ever managed to get there before, or if it was his first time. If it felt like home when he stepped foot on Solarian shores.

  Nahteran slides over to make room, and I cautiously take up a spot beside him. It still feels like we’re out of step, though.

  “This was your spot,” I remind him, gesturing widely to show that I mean not just the balcony, but the whole inn, the grounds. The mountains. The stars. “We had a lot of good times here.”

  “Yes, I remember. Well, I sort of remember.” My brother—if I can still call him that—flashes a contained, enigmatic smile. “I still know my way around. And there are … flashes of memories, if that makes sense.” He traces one finger along the railing, as if expecting it to vanish under his touch. “I remember I was happy here. We were happy here.”

  He looks to me as if for confirmation. Were we really here? Were we really happy? And my wariness dissolves into sorrow, for how far apart we’ve grown, for everything taken from us.

  Against my better judgment, I ask, “Was it horrible, your time with the Silver Prince?”

  “Horrible?” Nahteran hesitates, clearly taken aback, and I feel bad for asking.

  But on the other hand, it feels like something I need to know, to start sorting out whe
re his loyalties lie now.

  “Yeah,” he says eventually. “On the one hand it was pretty awful. But I got used to it. You can get used to pretty much anything if it’s all you know.”

  My heart twists. “But it wasn’t all you knew,” I say weakly. “You had memories. A family. Me and Mom.”

  “I know,” he replies. He looks at me, eyes serious. “And believe me, Maddie, that’s the only reason there’s anything of me left.”

  “Mom told everyone she killed you,” I tell him, speaking around a lump growing in my throat. She’s been in jail for it ever since …” I don’t want to say since they took you, so I just say, “Ever since that night. They were going to execute her for it before the Silver Prince kidnapped her.”

  Nahteran blinks. “I’m sorry to hear that. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “I don’t know,” I mumble. “She said she did. I think by the end, she was really starting to believe it.”

  When Nahteran looks sharply at me, brows raised waiting for an explanation, I reluctantly explain about how she had given up on the world. On life. On everything. But to my surprise, Nate doesn’t look shocked or upset at the story.

  “I don’t know if this will make you feel better or worse,” he says when I’m finished, “but it’s possible the person I saw in the mirror wasn’t her.”

  My breath catches. “What do you mean?”

  “The Silver Prince has some Solarians in his employ,” he says slowly. “Gifted shapeshifters.”

  It sounds like this is a painful memory for Nahteran to recount, judging by the roughness of his voice, but he gathers himself and goes on.

  “He likes using them to control the people under them, including me. So for instance, he’d get one of them to shapeshift to look like Marcus, or Mom, or you.”

  I’m stunned silent, frozen. Finally, I find my voice to say, “So you don’t think that was her? You don’t think he has her?”

  But before I even get to the end of that sentence, Nahteran is already shaking his head.

  “I do think he has her,” he says in a whisper. “The Silver Prince doesn’t make empty threats. I don’t know why I brought that up.” His voice cracks. “I’ve never talked about any of this before.”

  “It’s—it’s okay,” I stammer. “You can tell me about it if you want. Or you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  Nahteran smiles weakly. “It’s just, it’s hard to remember what’s real and what’s not sometimes.”

  I swallow. “Here is what’s real,” I say. To my surprise, my voice comes out strong; I don’t know where that strength comes from, but I’m glad for it. “We liked baking brownies together—at least, you and Mom would bake brownies while I distracted you and tried to steal a bite of the batter. What’s true is we made snow angels together in the winter and made cardboard boxes into forts. What’s real is you sat next to me on the bus the first day of kindergarten, even though the other boys made fun of you. What’s real is that every dog in the neighborhood was your best friend.”

  I’m tearing up now and have to stop and catch my breath before going on. I didn’t even really remember all of this, but it rushes back as I speak, a waterfall of images.

  “What’s real is that you always picked flowers for Mom, and she couldn’t be mad at you even though you wrecked her garden. You always let me choose the TV show, and you’d sit with me and watch whatever dumb little-kid shit I chose. What’s real is that we loved you so much and it’s honestly been freaking awful growing up without you.”

  One silent moment passes between us. Then, wordlessly, Nahteran leans over and wraps me in a hug. I hug him back, the tears escaping and rolling down my cheeks. Even though he’s a foot taller than me now—which seems unfair—he feels like home.

  “Please stay at Havenfall,” I mumble into his shirt. “Whatever happens with the Silver Prince and Mom, stay here with us.”

  Nahteran lets me go and turns to look out over the mountains again, but keeps one arm slung over my shoulder. “I want to,” he says kindly. “But we can’t hide out forever, no matter how great this place is. Someone has to take our answer to the Silver Prince.”

  “Not necessarily,” I whisper. “What if we choose not to make the trade?”

  His arm around me goes tense. “Then I don’t want her to die alone, in a world where no one cares about her.”

  “Then, what, you’ll just go on working for him?” I ask. I don’t mean to be combative, but my voice rises anyway, bitterness and fear mixing together inside me. “Or will he kill you? Because I can’t imagine he’ll just let you walk out again.”

  “I know that.” Nahteran sounds contrite but resolute. “But it’s like I said earlier. The Silver Prince will achieve what he wants in the end. If I’m at his side, maybe I can reduce some of the collateral damage.”

  “He’s not unbeatable,” I point out. “We beat him before. I beat him, and God knows I’m pretty useless most of the time.”

  A small, sad smile plays around Nahteran’s mouth. “I disagree.”

  “Don’t try to distract me with flattery.” I elbow him lightly in the ribs. “Look. I know he’s terrifying. I’m scared of him too. But if you just admit defeat in advance and go along with what he’s doing, you’re allowing it to happen. Trust me. I know I was bragging a minute ago, but I was this close”—I hold up my thumb and pointer finger half an inch apart—“to letting him manipulate me into giving up Havenfall while Marcus was out cold.”

  “If I fought him outright, I’d have been dead or brainwashed like Bram years ago,” Nahteran says, wooden. “I figure it’s better to be a pawn and retain my free will. Maybe save a few people along the way. Besides, Maddie …”

  He hesitates, like he knows I won’t like what he’s about to say.

  “Would it be the worst thing in the worlds if what the Silver Prince wants comes to pass?” he asks. “Whether it’s in two years or a hundred, at some point, Oasis will fall and everyone inside will die. The Byrnisians aren’t responsible for what the Silver Prince does. Don’t they deserve a chance to live?”

  I don’t have an answer to that, at least not a simple one. So instead I bounce back another question. “What’s his plan, then? What is the Silver Prince imagining?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Nahteran says without meeting my eyes. “But I can tell you what I’m imagining. Just peaceful coexistence, that’s all. If I can figure out how to replicate the armor I can create safe zones where Byrnisians outside the wall can live here in peace. And not just Byrnisians. Solarians, though obviously they don’t need the phoenix flame. Fiordens, whoever else.”

  Nahteran looks sidelong at me. “I heard some gossip about you and that Fiorden soldier, Brekken. Can’t say I like the guy so far, but just think, wouldn’t it be nice to at least have the option of being together with someone like that?”

  My face heats up, and I fight the childish instinct to tell Nahteran to keep his nose out of my beeswax.

  Because the thought of Brekken hurts. I know he’s still angry with me for what happened at Winterkill, and I’m angry with him for being angry. For not trying to fix us.

  But unlike my mom, Brekken and I have time. I choose my words carefully, aiming for diplomacy. For lots of reasons, I’m not trying to start a fight with Nahteran.

  “I really don’t think that giving the Silver Prince free rein over this planet is going to lead to anyone peacefully coexisting.”

  “True enough.” Nahteran chuckles darkly. “But even the Silver Prince is not going to live forever.”

  My brother takes his arm from my shoulders and grips the railing tight, like it’s the edge of a flying carpet. “Just imagine what could be if the Silver Prince weren’t in the picture, Maddie. All the realms, open. You and me and Taya in that new world, together.”

  I glance over to see the hopeful, almost feverish light in Nahteran’s eyes. It’s kind of intoxicating. I’m almost ready to follow him into the wide unknown.

  At th
e same time, though, I’m not so optimistic. “But the Silver Prince is in the picture. And he’s more powerful than all of us put together. The only reason he’s not steamrolling us right now is that he’s trapped in Oasis; we can’t just let him in and hope that it will all work out.”

  I circle back to the most immediate question facing us. “Besides, Mom wouldn’t want us to give him the armor even if it meant saving her.”

  I’m not sure of many things—like if what Mom wants should matter, or which option I want to go with—but I’m sure of that.

  But as Nahteran looks at me and smiles, the expression so familiar and simultaneously so alien, I’m not sure if my brother feels the same way.

  “Maybe,” he says. “But to me, a world without family isn’t much of a world at all.”

  I wake up early the next morning, even after sleeping poorly. I had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep even after staying up late talking to Nate. Like my body wants to stay on high alert for whatever else might go wrong in the night.

  But the morning sky is bright and warm outside my window, and the birds are chirping in the pines. I open my window, and the sun and the sound lift my spirits. Maybe it’ll be okay. Nahteran, Marcus, Brekken, and Taya are all here, all the people I love who I once thought were lost to me. If we can get Mom back from the Silver Prince, I think out to whatever god might be listening, I won’t want for anything ever again.

  I text Taya while I get dressed. I’ve not had a moment alone with her since she came back from Solaria, and I want to ask her more about that world, the place she found there.

  And … While I really do want to know everything, I have another reason too. I need to ask her to intervene with Nahteran. To see if their bond—forged before I was even born—can get him to see reason, to stay with us. There has to be another way to get the armor to the Silver Prince, if that’s what we decide to do. But I don’t think I could bear to lose him a third time.

  Nahteran’s words from last night replay in my mind, over and over again. Would it be the worst thing in the worlds if what the Silver Prince wants comes to pass? The Byrnisians aren’t responsible for what the Silver Prince does. Don’t they deserve a chance to live?