by H M Angues
“Cal?”
I bite my lip, eyes fixated on the dusty floor.
I feel Talon’s hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. “Cal,” he says again. “What is it?”
“I miss him. I miss my empire and Stonfire and what life used to be. Now I just feel so... useless.”
“You’re not useless, Cal. Don’t you realize what you are to these people? There are legends about the emperor of Namari. They call you the Phoenix, a master of all abilities, and a savior. A creature of literal legends, Cal. You’re the farthest from useless. You are the most powerful woman on the planet, and Kainan will understand why you’re here, and not there.”
“Aren’t phoenixes mythological firebirds?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, remembering what little I learned about ancient Earthen lore in my education.
“On Earth, yes,” Tally replies, nodding. “But not to us, not to the Primori. Fire is not what makes the bird a phoenix, but its ability to rise from its own ashes. In tje legends, the Phoenix is described as the one born with all abilities.”
I bite my lip and nod. “Phoenix, savior… That’s a lot to put on a person, especially when I already feel at fault for so much suffering.” I pause, giving myself a moment as the pain of missing Blade and everything else worsens. “I need to get back. Not just for Namari, but for him. He thinks I'm dead, Tally.”
Talon pulls me into a brotherly embrace and I rest my head against his chest. “We'll get you back, I promise. We won't be here much longer.”
∞∞∞
The hours turn into days, days into weeks, weeks into months. Each day is the same. Training with Talon or other Primori in the Arena, watching matches—as dreadful as they are—and counting down the days until I can return home.
I have little contact with Valek, who has returned to Stonefire to keep watch over his precious National Archives. I speak to Jed occasionally, and it’s usually just short blurbs of information passed on to each other.
When the anniversary of my execution comes around—which Talon points out in the morning—I send a message to Jed. His response makes me punch a hole in Talon’s flimsy walls.
You’re not ready.
I let out a groan, collapsing on the sofa.
“What is it?” Talon asks, drying his hair from the shower.
“They don’t want me back yet. Jed thinks I need more training.”
My brother shrugs his shoulders. “There’s honestly nothing more we can teach you here. You even mastered Aurora and Shade—they’re practically unheard of, almost as rare as Sanguinus.”
And I’ve even got part of that one down, too, I say in his head. He shudders at the sensation.
“You know I hate that. It feels like claws scratching the inside of my head. Does communicating through the mating bond feel the same way?”
I shake my head. “It’s more natural—softer, like someone’s whispering in your ear.”
As I sit on that sofa, I grope for my tether to Kainan and try to feel for him.
There’s something you need to see, he says. It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice or felt his presence inside my head in months, ever since I last tried to access the bond. I didn't realize I had missed it.
A series of reports appear in my mind; a debriefing Kainan received from an anonymous spy. The Underground is sending a force to infiltrate Ragnar Prison, and Ramsey wants Kainan to intercept it.
Based on these reports, Ryse and Blade are going to be with them. They’re trying to get a group of a hundred or so of their men out, and potentially all the other innocent citizens imprisoned.
Why are you telling me this? I ask him. Jed thinks you’re a traitor, you know.
I would never intentionally hurt you, Calla. You are so much more than just an emperor or Primori. They call you the Phoenix, you know.
Talon told me.
I’m glad you found him, my little firebird.
I pause, tears welling in my eyes. I blink them away, leaning against the counter to hold myself steady. Why are you letting her torture you?
Because I’m a fool, head over heels for a girl who doesn’t want me.
You’re wrong, I say. I care about you, Kainan. I love you.
But you are not in love with me, are you? It's all right, little firebird. You don't owe me a thing.
I don’t know what to say to that, so my next words are: Come home. Please. Wherever that may be, just come home. I can keep you safe.
You are my home, Calla Daiena Renald. Which is why I have to protect you, no matter the cost.
His presence disappears in the blink of an eye, and I’m back in the present, back in that dirty living room. Talon is right in front of my face, staring at me with concerned gray eyes.
“Cal?”
“Send a message to Jed—I don’t care what he says. We’re going to Ragnar Prison.”
Not just for Rysen and Blade and the other men and women locked away.
But to make the next move in taking back my home.
Chapter 31
Rysen
Jurynn, Present Day
I still can’t believe that both Renald siblings are sitting here, in this living room, alive and… somewhat well. Calla may look physically healthy, but her mind is a mess.
I shouldn’t have yelled at her. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that by anyone.
“Does he know?” I ask her quietly. Calla glares at me before shaking her head. Blade grabs her hand, squeezing her fingers with his.
“Know what?” Talon asks.
“In the prison…” I whisper, barely able to muster the words.
“It isn’t yours to tell, Rysen,” she snaps. “I will tell it in my own time.”
“I was just trying to help,” I bite back, but immediately regret it. Talon’s eyes burn holes through me, and Blade lets out a heavy sigh.
I can’t let my temper get the best of me, especially when she’s right. What matters is that she’s here, and she’s alive. But I sometimes let it out, unable to reign in that side of me that acts like someone else.
That acts like my father.
Calla shifts her position, the leather groaning with the movement. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you. It’s about Kain—”
A loud banging on her door interrupts her mid-sentence. Talon opens it, finally breaking his stare, to reveal Fayette’s slender and tall frame. Without saying a word, she shoves past him and into the apartment, glancing at each of us in turn.
“You didn’t kill him?” she screeches, sending an accusing glare in Calla’s direction. The emperor stands, and I with her.
Her features harden into something strong—something imperial that will not budge nor bow to anyone. “No, I didn’t.”
“You mean Kainan? Back at the prison?” Blade asks, defensively moving closer to his emperor. I stand back, watching intently. Curious. I want to know what she’ll say to them. And part of me is still upset with her.
“Yes. Kainan,” the Overseer’s daughter growls, her father still silent in the corner. “He’s locked up in some luxurious apartment downstairs, alive. You could have killed him. Easily. You need to have a damn good excuse for why you didn’t.”
Jed blinks his one eye at his daughter. “Fayette, there is more going on here than you’re aware of. Stand down.”
Calla doesn’t so much as flinch, and she even gets up and takes a few steps closer to Fayette. Despite half a foot shorter than Fay, Calla’s sheer power when she paints on the mask of an emperor makes her tower over everyone in the room.
“I don’t need to do anything, Fayette. I don’t care about the authority you have within the Underground, I’m still an emperor. If it weren’t for me and my ancestors, this whole operation would have ceased to exist long ago. That means you don’t get to question me.
“But, seeing as I was going to explain anyway, I’ll tell you: Kainan was always on our side. He is the one that warned me about the prison. He and Ramsey knew your father was planning an
assault and he was ordered to intercept it. He warned me, told me I had to be there to stop him and get our own men out. And, the entire time I was in Helkyn, we were communicating. He never betrayed anyone other than Ramsey. So, Fayette, that is why he’s still alive. Sufficient enough for you?”
Fayette doesn’t say a word. She lets out a frustrated grunt and forces herself back the way she came, slamming the apartment door behind her, rattling the kitchen cabinets.
I blink at Calla, unable to believe what I just heard. “So, he got to know you were alive, but not me or Blade? You let us believe you were dead while he got to know all the details?”
“I already explained this. The whole Twin Flames thing—it runs deep. It’s hard to explain.” She shifts her gaze to me. “Of course he knew I was alive. I told you, we’re in each other’s heads, Rysen. There’s no way to fool something like that into believing I’m dead.”
Talon, who has been silent for ages, finally says to me, “It’s impossible to not trust the bond between two Flames.”
“Whatever you say, Talon.” I notice how clipped my words are and send Calla an apologetic glance. Her responding stare tells me she doesn't accept any apologies I could offer.
“I think we all need to clear our heads—it’s been an emotional day,” she says after several moments of awkward and tense silence pass.
“I have something in mind,” Talon adds.
“What?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
“How about a demonstration?”
∞∞∞
Calla and Talon, having spent time in Jurynn years ago, find their way to the massive gym with ease, with me and Blade trailing behind them. Bellamy is there, practicing her fire with Syn. She glances up at our entrance and freezes in place. Utterly stunned.
Before I can register what’s happening, the half-Mordan girl has her slender arms wound tightly around her sister’s neck. When Calla breaks from the embrace, there are tears visible in Bellamy’s eyes.
“Bell, I want you to meet Talon,” Calla says, gesturing for her brother to step forward. “He’s my—our—brother.”
One emperor. A son and two daughters, each borne of a different woman. What a guy.
Bellamy stares at the mountain-sized man, unsure. Without a hint of his half-sister’s hesitation and awkwardness, he scoops the girl into a bear hug.
“Nice to meet you, little sister. Finally, someone I can complain to about Cal’s troublesome antics,” he jokes, setting Bellamy down on the gym floor. “I hear you’re a little Fireblood too, eh?”
She nods, noticeably more relaxed now. “Syn has been training me.”
The small pregnant woman waves to us and begins to make her way toward Blade. “Jeriko told me about everything that happened in Ragnar,” she says. Syn wraps her arms around Calla's shoulders. “Thank you for getting them out. I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.”
Blade tilts his head. "You two know each other?" he asks. I had been ready to ask the same question.
They nod in unison. “We met once, briefly,” Calla says.
Syn squeezes Calla’s arm. “She’s the reason I’m here.”
Chapter 32
Calla
Helkyn, Five Months Ago
“Cal!” Talon shouts, bursting through the front door. “Another patrol is coming through.”
Without question, I gather a few things and follow my brother out the shabby door. Along with several other Primori in the Village, we quickly make our way to the Arena, barricading ourselves inside the basement storage rooms.
“There,” Talon huffs as he and one other large man finish piling the last of the storage containers against the small door. He brushes the dirt and splinters off his hands and takes a seat beside me on the floor.
The space is cramped, but it’s large enough to hold about two dozen of us. It’s a small enough number that the patrols wouldn’t really notice us missing. Because,if they were to find me and all the others who have been helping me... I don’t want to think about how that situation would play out.
Someone knocks at the door quietly, and I hear a faint voice whisper, “Jeriko? Are you in there?”
A familiar Oceanus sitting across from me snaps his head toward the door, sea-green eyes swimming with emotion. “Syn?” he calls, moving to stand.
Talon reaches for his arm, yanking him back down. He presses a finger to his own lips, urging the Oceanus to be quiet.
“That’s my wife,” Jeriko spits.
“Jer,” the woman—Syn—cries at the door. “They know you’re in here.”
Talon’s eyes dart to me, and I can clearly see the fear hidden in the gray. I squeeze his arm, more scared for those who will be punished for hiding me than for myself.
“Let her in,” Jeriko pleads to me. “Please.”
I nod to Talon. Jer has been helping me with my Oceanus abilities—I’m not about to repay his kindness by locking his wife out of safety. Ramsey’s patrols take any Primori they please, and I couldn’t live with myself if Talon and I were responsible for the death of my friend’s wife.
Together, Jeriko and my brother start to take down the barricade of boxes. They quietly open the door.
Five or so men in tactical gear bearing Ramsey’s colors march into the room, tossing Syn to the ground.
“Get behind me!” Jeriko hisses, grabbing my arm and yanking me back.
“Grand Master,” they say to my brother. With his haggard facial hair, Talon must be unrecognizable, even to these Namari soldiers. And I doubt anyone would believe he could be alive after watching his murder on a telescreen.
“What do you want?”
“We’re simply on patrol, scoping the area to make sure there are no particularly rebellious individuals in the District.”
“Do any of them look like rebels to you?” He gestures a broad hand to the gaggle of us in the back of the room. Jeriko keeps me behind him, out of the soldiers’ direct line of sight.
The one closest to me, however, can see me clear as day. My eyes lock with his where he stands just a foot away, and I swear he trembles in his boots, face going pale with shock. His companions don’t notice, and he doesn’t say a word.
I raise a finger to my lips. He nods.
It isn’t until Talon convinces them to leave that I hear the soldier whisper something so faint that I barely hear it.
“Save us, Emperor Calla.”
And then he’s gone, out of sight with the others.
When we all begin to trickle out of the storage room, I decide not to tell Talon about the soldier who saw me. No point worrying about it now.
Instead, I go straight to Syn, handing her a small, outdated datapad.
“Find the Overseer’s contact. You’ll know who he is. Look for this symbol,” I pull out the small pin I carry with me; the hand with an eye, and show it to her. “The Primori rune for knowledge—he will have it on his shoulder. Speak to him, tell him about today, about me. He can get you out of here,” I say.
The woman stares down at me, puzzled. I add, “Your husband has done more for me than I ever asked of him. Consider this my thanks. To you both.”
“Thank you.”
As the weeks go by, I never see her or Jeriko again. I can only hope they made it to the Underground. To safety, with so many other Primori refugees.
Chapter 33
Blade
Jurynn, Present Day
I take a moment to absorb this new story, remembering the conversation I’d had with Syn just the other day, about Calla.
My heart swells with love and pride for my best friend. She really is the reason Syn and Jeriko got out of Helkyn, the reason they can start their family. I didn’t know I could love her more than I already do. It takes my mind off the horrible things going on in the world.
I try not to look at Rysen. He is one such horrible thing, I've come to realize. To Calla, at least. I would have to be blind to not notice how she looks at him with disdain and disgust.
Calla claps her hands together and says, “So, a demonstration then?”
We follow her and Talon to one of the training mats where they ready themselves. “What should we start with?” her brother asks, slipping off his shoes.
In answer, Calla hurls a ball of flame in Talon’s direction. I suck in a sharp, apprehensive breath—Talon isn’t Fireblood, he’s an Aero.
Or so I thought.
He catches the flame with ease, morphing it into a stream of fire that snakes along the ground to his sister’s feet. Calla pulls it up toward her, the flames curling around her in the air.
Out of the grates kept along the mats for the Oceanus Primori, the former king of Roran coaxes out a heavy stream of water, dousing Calla with it and choking out her flames. She sends a small wave back at him, and with a blast of air, dries off her own drenched clothes.
“That was rude,” she says to him, cracking a smile.
“Oh, was it?” With a flick of his wrist, a bolt of lightning arcs from his hand to Cal. It strikes her abdomen but doesn’t do any damage. She absorbs the electricity, the arcs of white lightning dancing over her skin before it all congregates at her wrists.
Two white-hot strips of lightning form, trailing from her hands to where they coil at the ground. Talon lifts one of the heavy stones the Terras use and hurls it her way. Calla cracks one of her lightning whips down, the rock exploding into hundreds of pebble-sized pieces when her electricity strikes it.
“Aren’t you going to show off your Terra skills?” Talon teases, trying to coax more out of her. The beads of sweat coming down her forehead, however, tell me the exertion is taking a toll on her and her energy is draining quickly.
“I’m not going to waste my time on what they’ve already seen.”
Then she’s gone. Calla vanishes in a puff of inky black smoke, like what I saw in Ragnar Prison. The menacing mist whorls and slithers along the ground, wrapping around each one of us in turn. It’s cold, like ice against my skin, and I shiver at the contact.
Creepy, huh?
