Phoenix of Hope: Complete Series — Books 1-4

by Zora Marie

  “If my father heard you imply such things, perhaps this is what he had against you two.”

  “As though they wouldn’t have been thinking it. We just speak our minds.” Loboran grinned at Linithion like a cat with a mouse.

  “More like have no filter.” Linithion shook her head.

  8

  Zelia woke to the tickling touch of Linithion’s hair on her cheek and a light kiss against her neck. She snuggled back against her. A contented sigh escaped her and she found that the air smelled of fresh bread. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and looked at the little earthen oven and was a little surprised to find that there was in fact a loaf of bread baking.

  “Want to help them pack their things before breakfast?” Linithion asked.

  “No need, we’re nearly finished,” Loboran said.

  “And the bread will be ready in just a few.” Starling hummed as he flitted around the room, pulling things from the shelves and handing them to Loboran to tuck away in their packs. When all but their little glass figurines were packed away, Starling sighed.

  Loboran wrapped his arms around him from behind and pulled Starling to him as they looked around their home together. “You always wanted to move to Elyluma, now you’re getting your wish.”

  “I suppose so,” Starling said.

  “Just think, with two new Queens, all those sticks in the mud will have to tolerate us. Plus, once this war is done, we’ll find someplace you can keep those horses you’ve always wanted.”

  “Hm. Sometimes you spoil me too much.”

  “I try.” Loboran practically purred the words and the pillow Zelia leaned on disappeared as Linithion threw it at the males. It whapped into their sides and fell to the floor with a soft thud, and they just stared at her in disbelief.

  “I’d say get a room, but that would require having a second one,” Linithion said.

  “Hey! Since when is starting pillow fights considered queenly behavior?”

  “Since the queen had to deal with you two.”

  Zelia laughed as she rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. “You’re all worse than Rogath.”

  “Careful, he’ll take that as a challenge,” Linithion teased and pulled on her boots.

  “It’s a good thing I like you two.” Starling pulled the loaf of bread from the oven and began cutting it into slices. “Because otherwise you wouldn’t be getting any of my bread.”

  “Good indeed because it smells delicious.” Zelia made the few steps across the house to the little table Starling stood at and he slid two pieces of the gold-brown bread slathered in butter towards her. “Thank you.” She bit into one of the slices as she took the other back to Linithion and was pleasantly surprised by the spicy flavor that danced across her tongue.

  Zelia held the other piece out for Linithion and she took a bite as she finished lacing her boots. “Hm. I didn’t know you were such a good baker, Starling.”

  “Oh, you should have seen his first few attempts at making rye bread. I think a few of them are still being used as steppingstones around here somewhere.” Loboran leaned in to give Starling a kiss as he picked up a slice for himself. “Of course, now you’re my favorite baker.”

  “Hm. You’re such a suck up.”

  “Um hm. Linithion, want to help me tack the horses?” Loboran asked as he grabbed his and Starling’s packs.

  “Sure.” Linithion swung her cloak around her shoulders before grabbing her bows and quiver. Right before stepping through the hatch to the ground, Linithion gave Zelia one of those loving looks.

  The moment Linithion was gone, Zelia turned to Starling. “So, ready to pack up your glass figurines?”

  “You know, I was joking when I asked that,” Starling said.

  “I know, but you’ll need something to decorate your next home with.” Zelia picked up the pitcher of water from the table and slowly poured it into her hand, the water freezing into a sphere. “I just hope you and Linithion can figure out whose are who’s when the time comes.”

  “Oh, that should be a fun task as I’m fairly certain she made most of these. At least now it makes sense why we were always drawn to ones made by her.”

  It wasn’t long before they were on their way again, leaving for the last time the place that had been Loboran and Starling’s home. The two males had taken their wards down as they left, opening the house to be worn away by the elements. Zelia imagined a lot of the Elves were doing the same as they left their homes. Many of them lived in trees as Loboran and Starling had. How long would it be—a century perhaps—before the evidence of their lives here would be gone. The city would remain, the remaining stone buildings a haunting reminder of what had once been an empire of knowledge and learning. A few centuries more and even the Elves would forget what had once been.

  She and Linithion rode side by side, only parting to drift around trees. They didn’t even have to ask their horses to, they just did it as though they, too, wanted to be near one another. Listening to Starling and Loboran discuss what they wanted their next home to be like, Zelia began to wonder what her and Linithion’s future would look like now that the Drakeon Empire was wiped from the map. Zelia didn’t even know who was technically Eleanor’s heir since she never had children of her own.

  A wolf’s howl shook Zelia from her thoughts and she scanned the trees ahead. She really hoped Banon hadn’t sent—Zelia almost cursed as she spotted the grey wolf leering at her through the snow-covered brush. That was definitely Shika. The spattered grey markings on her face were unmistakable. She’d had a close enough look, as the wolf snarled in her face, the last time they met to sear them into her memory.

  “Hello darling,” Starling drawled, “did you bring clothes this time or do you need a set?”

  Shika snarled at him and someone behind the wolf chuckled. “Hm, I’m pretty sure she just called you a nasty word. Sorry if she’s a bit cranky, it’s that time of the year.”

  Shika snarled again, though this time it was directed towards her companion who pushed through the brush. He was dressed much the same as Nikolas always dressed, in thick layers that were dyed black. Unlike Nikolas though, he didn’t carry a sword, just a couple of daggers.

  “I was hoping our dear Nikolas would be with you,” the male said, “but I see that’s not the case. Where has he gone off to now?”

  “Last I checked, he didn’t get along with Shika very well and I’m guessing that extends to you too,” Zelia said.

  Linithion gave Zelia a sidelong glance as she cleared her throat. “Nikolas aside, thank you for coming. What’s your name?”

  “Roald. I’m one of Banon’s sons. Come on.” He waved them to follow him.

  Shika huffed a sigh, as though they should have known who Roald was, even if it didn’t seem to bother him.

  “Sorry to hear what happened with the Fenari. Ever since Banon got your message he’s been pushing everyone to be on high alert. So, if any of us seem a bit jumpy or shorter tempered than usual, that’s why. At least conflicts with the Darkans have backed off to the west. How are things going with them down south?”

  “There have not been any attacks since Zelia last spoke with them,” Linithion said.

  “Really? How did you manage that?” Roald glanced back at Zelia as he led the way through the woods.

  “I offered them help and a potential solution to save their people. I don’t think you’ll have any problems with them as long as Connan doesn’t do anything stupid. Do you all have what you need to defend yourselves from the Fenari?”

  “We’re working on it. Most of us seldom use blades, so it’s taking a bit of adjusting. One of your friends, a Hyperian has been teaching our few metal workers how to etch runes.”

  “Once we get to Elyluma I’ll speak with my aunt about sending what weapons we can spare to your people.”

  “Thank you, every little bit helps. I sent one of the smaller subpacks ahead of us to clear the overgrown parts of the path to make travel easier for your people. We don’
t travel the southern paths that much…” Roald trailed off and the way he glanced from Zelia to Linithion and back again sowed unease in her gut. “Can either of you tell me what’s going on with the Kingdom of the Mountains? We got a messenger bird with a note announcing King Gregory and his son’s deaths, but it was skimpy on the details.”

  “They attacked one of my people and made themselves into a liability. Skylar will have been crowned King by now.”

  “What?” Roald stopped dead in his tracks.

  “I put Skylar on his ancestral throne, our family’s throne.”

  Roald looked her up and down, as though noting the slight family resemblance that she herself hadn’t noticed until recently. “Sorry, sometimes I forget that Skylar is an O’Fell. And I thought you two were only related through being adopted by Eadon.”

  “His great aunt was my mother and a member of the Wizard Guild.”

  “So, who killed King Gregory?”

  “I did. I gave them the option of exile, but—”

  “Then how are you here if you were just there?”

  “Um.” Zelia mulled over how much to say.

  “We have dragons.” Linithion said it as though the very idea wouldn’t strike fear in the hearts of men. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “What?” He looked up at the sky as though one would blaze a path through the forest right then.

  “They went ahead of us with as many as they could safely carry and they won’t hurt you,” Linithion assured.

  “They’re quite friendly, actually,” Loboran said.

  “Unless you try to hurt us or them. Then…” Zelia shrugged.

  “Is there anything else we should know?” Roald asked.

  “Hm. Well, Eadwulf is now the King of Coridale and has opened his borders back up to magic. We also have a few new members of the guild,” Zelia said.

  “And I think I may have neglected to include in my letters that Zelia and I are betrothed.”

  “To who?”

  Zelia couldn’t help but smile as she and Linithion pointed at each other.

  Roald turned to Loboran and Starling then. “Did you two corrupt them or something?”

  “They wish,” Linithion said. “We’re soulmates. Someone just took a little while to accept it.”

  “It’s only been a few months.”

  “Mhm.” The way Linithion looked at Zelia then reminded her that she’d only started saying ‘I love you’ after Rogath had nearly killed Linithion. She had loved her for a while before that, but she hadn’t been able to make herself say it until then. Now those few months of denial felt like ages—a lifetime ago.

  9

  Once Roald was fed all the news he could possibly want, the trip through the wild was quiet, almost too quiet. It was the middle of the third day in The Wild when Zelia started getting that feeling of dread again. She knew the others felt it too as they scanned the trees and the skies above. As the day went on, the feeling grew and the Elves trailing behind them began clustering in larger groups. They’d even rearranged themselves with archers and swordsmen getting shuffled to the edges of their groups, the injured and those with children naturally moving to the middle.

  There was a distinct pop somewhere behind them. Cold trilled down Zelia’s spine as they all whirled. A portal, its inky presence a stain upon the world, yawned open two groups back. Loboran was the first to act, centuries of training and fighting having honed him into a weapon in his own right. He drew a shield around the group closest to the portal as Linithion shot the first Fenari to step through.

  The solid thump of the arrow hitting its target was all it took to break Zelia from her daze. She urged Bête Noire into a gallop towards the portal. Ahead of her, Linithion drew a rune in the air as she chanted a spell. Zelia didn’t recognize the spell or the runes, but made her own energy gather power from the world around them for Linithion to weave into the spell.

  “Take what you need,” Zelia said as a second Fenari stepped through the portal and she lit it ablaze with a thought. The Fenari shrieked and scrambled back into the portal, her flames disappearing with it.

  There was another loud pop further down the path as Linithion’s rune slammed into the first portal, closing it with a thunderous crack. Zelia didn’t wait for Linithion as Bête Noire charged ahead to the next portal. Ahead of her, Elves drew shields around the injured in their group and began fighting the Fenari who portaled in here and there.

  She was nearly to the next portal when something grabbed ahold of her, jerking her free of her seat atop Bête Noire. Thick blue arms pinned her arms to her side—as though she needed blades to protect herself. She stilled. One breath the winter breeze was biting her skin, and the next flames blazed across her skin and clothes. The Fenari shrieked as it dropped her. She pulled the dagger she’d taken from Rogath and plunged it into the Fenari’s chest before it could scramble away.

  Its blood, blue rather than red, sizzled as it ran down her hand and the Fenari fell backwards into a portal, all but its feet disappearing into the black swirl. She looked at her hand, at the blue fire that rimmed it and blasted those flames into the portal. She willed the flames to fan out, to scorch and burn anything and everything on the other side of that portal. It was one breath, two breaths, and then the portal snapped shut. The feet of that Fenari still lay in the snow, leaking blue blood.

  It worked. Zelia whirled. There were more portals now, seven of them in total. She mentally marked each one before summoning the heart of her flames. She willed her flames to blast over the Elves and into those portals. Commanded them to bend and twist around her kin. As each portal snapped shut, the stranded Fenari began to panic. Elves glanced at her with a wary air about them. She killed the closest three Fenari with fire—burned them alive—then all was calm, save for the wailing of those who had lost someone.

  Zelia turned in a circle, the snow turning to slush at her feet, as she checked that all the Fenari were gone or dead. When she saw they were, she soothed her flames until they settled back in that hollow place in her chest. Her energy form snapped back to her as she slipped her dagger away.

  She was faintly aware that some of the Elven warriors were watching her, studying her. They weren’t afraid, just curious—some even thankful.

  Then Linithion was there, her fingers cold against Zelia’s cheeks. “You scared the shit out of me—letting a Fenari grab you like that.” Linithion’s green eyes were frantic as she scanned Zelia’s face.

  “I’m fine.” Zelia pulled Linithion into a hug, letting the lingering heat of her flames warm her soulmate. “We’re fine.”

  “Girls?” Loboran said. “We need to get everyone moving again, we won’t be safe until we get to Elyluma.”

  Linithion’s head bobbed and her arms tightened around Zelia for a moment before they let go of each other. Their horses were already back at the front of the group, waiting for them. Zelia scanned the faces of the Elves who stared blankly at where portals had been moments before. They had so few injured that it was like the Fenari hadn’t come to attack them, but to take them.

  Roald stared at Zelia as Loboran gave her a lift back onto Bête Noire. Of everything, of everyone Roald could be staring at, she was who he was leery of now. Once she would have shrunk away from his stare, but now, now she was just tired of it. She’d saved people and Elves, lots of people with those flames and yet people feared her for them. Of course, after Gregory and his son, perhaps they should fear her. Not for her powers, but because killing was so damn easy for her anymore. It was too easy. Not the act itself, but the fact that she no longer hesitated to kill.

  Still, his stare made her skin crawl and all she wanted was for it to stop. “Spill it, Roald,” Zelia snapped as Linithion addressed the Elves behind them.

  “How did you—”

  “It’s magic. Many related to Hyperians or even Fregnar can control flames. Now, can we get going? I’d rather not wait around for the Fenari to attack us again.”

 
; “Yes,” Roald grumbled and began walking once more.

  Zelia forced herself to relax, to let the tension of anxiety and fighting drain away from her. As she did, bone weary exhaustion began to settle into her. It bothered her that it took so little to get to her when she didn’t use the healing runes on her staff, but she couldn’t risk collapsing again. So, she closed her eyes, hoping to clear her thoughts and let her mind rest.

  “Ask Linithion to ride with you,” Bête Noire said. “I think Frita stepped on a rock weird or some—”

  “I’m fine,” Frita protested.

  Zelia opened her eyes and looked down at Frita’s hooves. Her movements weren’t quite as fluid as they usually were, but she didn’t limp.

  “What?” Linithion asked.

  “She says it’s nothing, but want to ride with me?”

  Linithion pulled Frita to a stop and slid off. “What foot is it?”

  “You just had to say something.” Frita huffed and lifted her front left hoof.

  Linithion wiped the snow and dirt from it. “It does look fine.” Linithion let go of Frita’s leg and wiped her hands clean in the snow. “But we’re not risking it. You sure Bête Noire doesn’t mind? I can walk.”

  “He suggested it and I would like you to ride with me.” Zelia moved her staff from where it attached to the back of her armor to her side.

  “Hm. Are you sure you don’t just want someone to keep you from falling off if you doze?” Linithion put her hands on Bête Noire’s back and lifted herself on. The moment Linithion’s arms wrapped around Zelia’s waist, Bête Noire began walking again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Zelia leaned into Linithion’s embrace, allowing herself to just be in her presence. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe that Linithion was hers, that Linithion loved her despite the things she’d done. She supposed they both had blood on their hands now. But Zelia had the blood of innocents on her hands, even in her new body it stained her soul.