Flight of the Phoenix

by Alicia Michaels

  “She might be a bit unstable, but she knows we’re on the side of good here,” Jocylene argued. “I’m confident when the time comes, she’ll stand against her mother and Kalodan.”

  “Back to the blood magic business,” Jacob interjected. “What did they do with her blood?”

  “Combined it with black magic to create their own Phoenix,” Adrah replied without preamble.

  Eli frowned. “Can they do that? I thought a Phoenix was supposed to be a rare creature ... only so many of them have existed in our world, and never more than one at a time. That much power cannot be contained.”

  “You are right,” Wil answered. “The power of the Phoenix has always been tied to a male or female, so that a conscience might be applied to the primal urges of the beast within. But, what our queen refers to isn’t that sort of Phoenix, is it my lady?”

  Adrah shook her head, her eyes going dark as she sighed. This obviously weighed quite heavily on her.

  “No, this creature is a pure Phoenix, with no male or female counterpart,” she declared. “It does not shapeshift, remaining always in bird form. It does not have a conscience or a soul. It takes on the urges and desires of its master. This, combined with the fact that it was born of blood magic, makes this creature incredibly dangerous. What Kalodan intends to do with this creature, we still do not know. But the destruction he could cause with such an abomination will be widespread and devastating.”

  “So, it seems obvious to me that getting rid of this blood magic Phoenix is the most important thing right now,” Jocylene offered. “Zenun should be our focus.”

  “Perhaps,” Rothatin countered. “However, we cannot ignore Eranna. She will work to regain full power. It will not be long before she receives word that Desdemona has overthrown her, causing her to lose her most powerful stronghold in Fallada. The human world will be forgotten in favor of Mollac. She will return to reclaim her throne, combining her power with those of Kalodan and this Phoenix.”

  “We cannot allow it,” Adrah agreed. “Which is why we will, once again, divide our efforts. Rothatin, my general, you will return to the human realm. Your mission there will be twofold. Prevent Eranna from taking the lives of any human women to feed her essence, and obtain from her the Eye of Mollac.”

  A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. “The Eye, my queen? Of what importance is the queen’s magic mirror?”

  “It allows her to observe happenings in the realm,” Adrah reminded him. “The loss of her power has also robbed her of her beauty—causing her to become as hideous as the Witches she consorts with. For this reason, she avoids the looking glass, unable to abide her own reflection. However, she will not evade it forever. A need to know how things are progressing in Fallada will drive her to use it, and when she does, she will discover what Desdemona has done and return here. We must prevent that for as long as we can, giving Desdemona more time to gather her forces.”

  He nodded. “Of course, my queen. I will do as you direct.”

  Nodding with satisfaction, she turned to the others seated at the table. “Eli, you and Malachi Voran will return to Mollac. Desdemona will face opposition from Kalodan once it is discovered that she has taken Semran Hall. Many of Mollac’s people were driven out of their homes ... they should be made to feel safe to return now that Desdemona is queen. You will assist her in any way necessary—including becoming part of her defense should Kalodan attack. I will send five hundred Fae Warriors with you, along with any of Mollac’s shapeshifters who wish to return home. With such large numbers, you’ll be difficult to attack.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty,” Eli replied. “Has Malachi been told about your wishes?”

  “Not yet,” Adrah said. “I will leave that to you. Now that his son is safe here, I think you’ll find him amenable to returning to Mollac. He assured me that he is prepared to do his part in the fight for Fallada.”

  Clearing her throat loudly, Jocylene stood. “Um, hello? Warrior princess sitting right here. Are you guys benching me?”

  Rothatin suppressed a chuckle. He did not quite know what ‘benching’ was, but he did recognize her frustration over potentially being left behind.

  “You will remain here with your father and uncle,” Adrah said with an amused smirk. “We do not know yet what Kalodan intends to do with the Phoenix created by blood magic, but I will need you to lead a force to mobilize against him in the event he strikes some place other than Mollac.”

  “And if he strikes Mollac?” she challenged. “Am I supposed to just sit around doing nothing while everyone else fights?”

  “When the time comes, if Mollac falls under attack, we will ensure you can join the fight,” Adrah assured her, maintaining her patient, even tone of voice. “Meanwhile, we must consider other vulnerable places he might attack. The mines of Skel’gar, the forests, the Elf kingdom of Inador, the Southern realm of Damu.”

  “Fine,” Jocylene conceded grudgingly. “But as soon as he makes a move, I want my chance to take a crack at him. I have a bone to pick with that asshole.”

  So did Rothatin, and he would much rather remain here and go after Kalodan himself than return to the human realm. Yet, Adrah had given her orders and he would obey. He could only pray to the gods that when the time came for Kalodan to face justice for what he’d done to Desdemona and Jocylene, he could at least be there to see the life drained from him.

  “I suppose that is all for now,” Wil stated, standing and stretching his arms with a groan.

  “Wait,” Rothatin said suddenly. “What of Princess Sonia and her dragon eggs? I heard when I returned that they’d hatched.”

  Adrah glanced about the room, her eyes darting as if she tried to determine whether someone could be listening in. Odd. The queen was generally very trusting of the servants in her household.

  “Three eggs hatched,” she informed them, lowering her voice to a whisper. “A sand serpent, a fire-breather, and an earth wyvern. A sea serpent, we believe, remains unhatched in the fourth egg.”

  “That is wonderful news,” Jacob murmured, his eyes wide behind the rims of his spectacles.

  A scholar, Jacob Grimm must be excited by the prospect of being able to document and study dragons—which had not existed in Fallada for hundreds of years.

  “Well, where are the little beasts?” Wil asked, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

  “Hidden away,” Adrah informed them. “Not long after they hatched, a trusted servant of my own household attempted to steal one.”

  Rothatin felt his eyes grow wide. “By the gods ... the servants of Osbel Tower should be among the purest of souls! There hasn’t been treachery within these walls in ... well, I do not know how long.”

  Meeting his gaze, Adrah nodded, her expression becoming mournful. “That is what made his treachery all the more hurtful. It should not have surprised me, General. A creature so rare and precious as a dragon could turn even the most incorruptible heart greedy. The dragons are not safe—not all together, and not here. So, I’ve sent Princess Sonia and her brothers away from Goldun in order to keep them safe. No one knows where they have gone—not even myself. In this way, we cannot inadvertently allow anyone to discover where they are. It is the best way to secure them.”

  “By letting Sonia out of Goldun, we put her at risk,” Rothatin reminded her.

  It was not his way to speak against his queen, but not knowing where Sonia might be left him uneasy. The youngest of the royal daughters, she had yet to come into her powers. Despite the fact that her four brothers were fierce fighters, Rothatin would have rather protected her himself.

  “I am willing to take the chance,” Adrah countered. “Besides, caring for the dragons is a part of Sonia’s destiny. I have seen her future. I believe this path is the right one for her.”

  Bowing his head, Rothatin relented to Adrah’s wisdom. If she believed that, then so did he.

  “I do believe we can end our meeting now,” the queen declared. “General, you should rest bef
ore returning to the Earth realm.”

  Avoiding the glances of the others, Rothatin cleared his throat. “Actually, I had hoped to speak with you alone, Your Majesty.”

  Nodding, she stood and waved the others away imperiously. “Very well. Please escort yourselves out. Eli, you and Malachi should leave for Mollac at first light. The Fae warriors I promised will be prepared to escort you.”

  Executing a swift bow, Eli then took Jocylene’s hand. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Jocylene followed her mate without a glance back, with Wil and Jacob hot on their heels.

  Now alone with Adrah, he experienced anxiety over the conversation to come. He had been planning this ever since he’d realized the time had come for him to let go of his foolish notions concerning Jocylene. In order to move forward, he must consult the one woman who had always remained constant in his life.

  “Come, General,” she said. “Tell me what is on your mind.”

  Facing her, he clasped his hands behind his back. “Your Majesty has been very patient with me through the years ... allowing me to become accustomed to my role as general, and trusting me to make the right decisions.”

  “Of course, General,” she replied. “After the final war with the humans—before we closed off our world from theirs—the fate of the realm rested upon our shoulders. From that time until now, you have served me well, both on the battlefield, and as a close advisor. You have made me proud.”

  Nodding, he took her compliment in stride. He was glad to hear it, but could not lose sight of why he’d asked her for an audience.

  “I have been remiss in my duties in only one way,” he declared. “Through marriage and the siring of an heir to carry on my legacy as general.”

  Reaching out, Adrah placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder. “I have been content to allow you to search for love, Rothatin. Marriage and children should not be the burdens of duty. They should be the joys of your life.”

  A tight vise gripped his chest at the thought of the woman he wanted to marry and have children with. She was as far out of his reach as a star from a human. Unattainable.

  “I appreciate that you want those things for me,” he replied. “However, I have made my selection of a bride. All that remains is for you to grant me permission to pursue her, and I will see it done.”

  Her eyebrows lifted as if in surprise, and for the first time since he’d known her, Queen Adrah seemed genuinely shocked.

  “You’ve chosen a bride?” she asked. “Pray tell, who might this fortunate woman be?”

  “En’im,” he replied, naming one of his captains.

  A loyal soldier and amiable companion, En’im would do. Kind and graceful, while a warrior like himself, she had all the qualities he might desire in a wife. She would understand the pressures settled upon his shoulders as General of the Fae Army. As well, he would be able to trust her, just as he trusted her with his life on the battlefield.

  “An interesting choice,” Adrah said, without giving a hint to her thoughts one way or the other. “In the history of Fallada, no general has ever married a fellow soldier.”

  “En’im is also descended from royalty on her mother’s side,” he reminded her. “This would ensure the bloodline remains pure. En’im and I are fellow soldiers, but we are also friends. I believe we could get on well together.”

  Coming closer, she reached up to cup his face in both hands. The soothing balm of her touch sank into his skin, bringing him a brief respite from the pain eating him up inside.

  “My general,” she whispered. “What a noble sacrifice you have made.”

  He frowned. “I do not know what you mean.”

  Inclining her head, she released him. “But I think you do. You could have had so much more.”

  “It is too late for what might have been,” he countered. “There only remains what is, and what will be. I must wed and sire an heir. This war will end soon, and I am looking ahead ... to what I will accomplish after.”

  With a nod, Adrah smiled. However, it seemed forced and not at all like her. It almost seemed as if she mourned his decision.

  “I trust you to decide what is best,” she said. “If En’im accepts you, then I give you both my blessing.”

  Relief flooded him, and he exhaled with a rush. He’d had no contingency plan in place for her refusal. Bowing at the waist, he inclined his head.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Promise you will be happy, Rothatin,” she urged, taking his hands. “Promise me.”

  Forcing a smile, he nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  She nodded and smiled back at him, but he could tell she still worried for him. Pulling away from her hold, he left the room.

  Promise me you’ll be happy.

  Her words haunted him as he retreated to his home—the place where he lived alone.

  Happy? Perhaps not. Content? Yes, he could be content.

  It was all that remained for him.

  Chapter Three

  DESDEMONA STOOD AT the top of the front steps leading into Semran Hall. Dressed in a high-necked, black velvet gown, she wore a long, white fur robe that trailed the steps behind her as she began to descend. She wore nothing upon her head, allowing her long, inky black locks to hang down to her waist. There was a crown in her new chambers that she refused to wear, as it had once belonged to her mother. A new crown would be forged for the new Queen of Mollac, to signify the dawning of a new era.

  Waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase stood the Prophetess of the moors—the one woman whose name struck fear in anyone travelling to or from Mollac. Desdemona knew better than to fear her. For certain, Zara Wells deserved respect, but had proven herself to be gentle and kind. Her wisdom had guided Desdemona thus far, and she had come to rely on Zara more than anyone else in the world—except, perhaps, for Malachi and her sister.

  “Your Majesty,” Zara murmured, bending in an elegant curtsy as Desdemona reached the bottom of the staircase.

  Despite being blind, Zara seemed to possess a heightened sense of hearing, as well as smell. She wore her customary rough, wool robes, the hood pulled up over her close-shaven head. The stories of Zara said she had once been a beautiful woman—who’s long, golden hair and violet eyes had been gifted to her due to the mystical rampion flower her mother had consumed while pregnant with her. Graced with the gift of everlasting youth, she remained frozen in the face and form of an eighteen-year-old girl. Yet, there was wisdom in the depths of her eyes, their hue now made periwinkle from the white film of blindness obstructing the irises.

  It was said that Zara had been killed by Queen Eranna in a blood magic ritual. Yet, the sacrifice of her husband had brought her back to life—his soul in exchange for hers. She now lived her life in service to Fallada.

  “I’m glad you could come,” Desdemona replied, offering Zara her arm. “You are alone. I’d expected you to have Bree with you.”

  The Dwarf woman who acted as Zara’s companion and maid, Breenhildenmoore, had never liked Desdemona. However, she could always be found wherever Zara went, vigilant in her duty.

  “I asked her to remain behind,” she replied, allowing Desdemona to lead her up the stairs. “Now that you have returned to Mollac, I knew I would be unharmed on my journey.”

  “I am glad you hold such confidence in me,” she murmured. “If only I could learn to trust in myself as much.”

  Reaching up to pat her hand, Zara chuckled. “Confidence comes with practice, child. You discovered your powers at a late age, but you’ve learned quickly. In time, you will walk with the surety of a queen.”

  “You know what has happened here,” she said, nodding to the two Werewolf Shifters standing guard at the front doors.

  They closed them behind the women, remaining at their post. Bypassing the great hall—which still needed a good cleaning and new furniture since she’d torched it—she began leading Zara up the winding staircase to her chambers.

  “I have dreamt of this d
ay,” Zara confirmed. “The day when you would take your rightful place. The heir of Semran Hall, now its queen.”

  “I worry that I made my move too soon,” she confessed. “I know it must be done, but I don’t feel ready. I am uncertain what to do now. What if my mother returns to take her castle back? What if Kalodan launches the Dark Fae Army against me? I have no force here to defend the keep, and I can only do so much on my own.”

  As they entered her chamber, Zara sighed in reaction to the warmth radiating from the hearth. Desdemona guided her to the small table where a light breakfast had been laid out for them.

  “Until supplies arrive from the village, food is scarce,” she explained, pushing Zara’s meal to rest in front of her. “But there is coffee from Skel’gar, and fruit from the forests. The biscuits were made fresh this morning.”

  “I love the Dwarf method of brewing coffee,” Zara murmured between sips. “Tastes like chocolate.”

  Desdemona nodded, then took a drink from her own cup. “Yes, I have missed it during my time away.”

  For a long while, neither of them spoke, resting in mutual silence while partaking of the meal. Desdemona did her best to eat her fill, despite the anxiety making her stomach churn. She needed her strength, and did not want to be rude. Zara would know if she did not eat.

  “Now, then,” Zara said, resting against the back of her chair as she finished her coffee. “You want me to tell you what you should do, now that you have placed yourself in this position.”

  She frowned. “Well, yes. Isn’t that what you’ve always done?”

  Inclining her head, Zara raised her eyes, seeming to look straight at Desdemona.

  Impossible, she told herself.

  “If you think back to our past encounters, you will recall that I have never sought to tell you what you need to do. It is one of the reasons you trust me above all others. You feel that Queen Adrah seeks to manipulate you, while you think I simply want to help you.”

  “Isn’t it true?” she challenged. “Adrah cannot win her war without me.”