Sighs of relief rippled through the room, and Phaedra smiled, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Losing Jocylene would have been devastating—not just because she was needed to fulfill the prophecy, but because she had become a friend.
“Thank goodness,” Selena murmured. “I knew you could heal her, Rothatin. If anyone could have, it was you.”
Rothatin gave her a little smile and nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment. “It is also important for all of you to know that Queen Eranna is still alive.”
Gretchen groaned, running a hand through her black hair, revealing several pink and purple streaks. “Son of a bitch! Are you kidding me? I gave her my best and biggest lightning bolts!”
Amusement twinkled in Rothatin’s eyes as he fixed his gaze on Gretchen. “Worry not, Princess. Your talents weren’t wasted. While the queen survived the attack, she has been weakened tremendously. She does not possess even one-third of the power she once had.”
“That’s good news,” Titus said with a snort. “All we need to do now is find her and drive a dagger into her black heart. Maybe behead her for good measure, and make sure to bury the head separate from the body just in case.”
“That would be easier if we knew where she was,” Rothatin countered. “Through the Eye of Goldun, Queen Adrah saw her escape the water where you left her ... from there she disappeared.”
“What if she returned to Fallada?” Phaedra asked.
“She hasn’t,” Rothatin replied. “But she will, unless we stop her.”
“Why would we want to stop her?” Gretchen demanded. “I thought the point of you guys coming here was to find me and stop her from gaining power in this world. Wouldn’t it be better to keep her contained in Fallada?”
“Princess Desdemona has taken control of Semran Hall,” Rothatin answered. “She is now reigning as Queen of Mollac.”
“Which one is Desdemona again?” Gretchen asked with a confused frown.
“Queen Eranna’s daughter,” Phaedra told her. “The one with power over fire.”
“Right,” Gretchen said with a nod. “The Phoenix.”
“Holy crap,” Selena exclaimed. “That girl is as bad-ass as they say she is!”
“That she is,” Rothatin chuckled. “Her position is tenuous right now, and we must help her solidify it.”
“If Eranna finds out what her daughter has done, she will return to reclaim Mollac,” Arrian supplied.
“Precisely,” Rothatin agreed. “Adrah has sent Eliandes and Malachi Voran to Mollac with five hundred Warrior Fae. They will help her bolster the defense of the realm, while preparing in anticipation of an attack. Kalodan still holds Zenun, and he might try to strike back in Eranna’s name.”
“Desdemona taking her place in Mollac must be what the prophecy refers to as the rise of the Phoenix,” Arrian said, leaning forward in his chair. “What can we do from here to help her achieve this?”
“Two things,” Rothatin stated. “First, we must prevent Eranna from regaining strength. She is still here, and will revert to her old methods of building power. Draining the souls of young women. It helps her maintain everlasting youth, which strengthens her abilities. Second, we must infiltrate the penthouse where Eranna has taken up residence, and retrieve the Eye of Mollac. It is our belief that she brought the enchanted mirror with her when she crossed into the human world. Taking the mirror will prevent her from learning what her daughter has done. As well, it belongs in Mollac, with the true queen.”
“So,” Phaedra mused out loud, “our job is to keep Eranna out of Fallada, while also preventing her from going psycho-serial-killer on the girls of Earth, while stealing one of her most precious possessions?”
Rothatin winced, as if just realizing how much he was putting on their shoulders. “Too much?”
“Oh, no,” she teased. “I kind of feel like you could add dragon-slaying to the mix. Then it would be a challenge.”
Approaching her, Rothatin crouched to kneel in front of her chair. “Speaking of dragons ...”
She raised her eyebrows, remembering that Queen Adrah had entrusted the dragon eggs discovered in Zenun to her little sister. “Everything okay with Sonia?”
He nodded. “Of course. I thought you would want to know that she has left Goldun.”
A scowl pulled the corners of her mouth down. “But, Adrah said Goldun would be the safest place for Sonia and the eggs.”
“Unfortunately, once three of those eggs hatched, your sister found herself threatened by a thief who might have harmed her if Adrah hadn’t intervened.”
She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God.”
Placing a gentle hand on top of hers, Rothatin gave it a squeeze. “Do not fear, your brothers are with her. Adrah sent them away, trusting the princes of Zenun to protect both Sonia and the eggs. We do not know where they have gone, and Adrah thought it best until a safe place can be found for the dragons. This way, no one can try to get the information from us and use it to find her.”
Phaedra took a deep breath and released it with a shaky sigh. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.”
“I’ll give you all a moment to gather your thoughts,” Rothatin said, rising to his feet. “Then, we’ll come together and formulate a plan for going after Eranna and the Eye.”
He left her sitting there, crossing the room and exiting through the door to the apartment. The others began moving around—Titus and Selena going into the kitchen for a snack, Gretchen heading to the restroom. She simply sat, staring off into space, her lower lip clenched between her teeth. She had not gotten to know her big brothers much before leaving Fallada, but knew that Syris, Orath, Cailin, and Eurie could be trusted to protect Sonia. Formidable warriors, the princes of Zenun would die before letting anything happen to her.
Still, as the older sister, it had always fallen to her to make sure Sonia was taken care of.
“Are you all right?” Arrian asked, his voice breaking through her wandering thoughts.
She turned her head to find that he had moved, occupying the place where Selena had just sat. He sat close ... too close. Near enough that she could smell him—that unique aroma of trees and autumn that seemed to cling to the strands of his hair.
“I’m fine,” she said, lowering her gaze to her hands. “It was easy to come here when I thought Sonia would be safe in Goldun.”
“Sonia will be all right,” he assured her. “There are no better protectors for her than your brothers.”
“I know that,” she retorted. “It’s just ...”
“Just what?” he prodded.
“For years Sonia was sick,” she murmured. “A disease that presented in the human realm as Lupus. It was terrifying, wondering each time she got sick if it would be the last time. We had Aunt Sam, of course, but when Sonia wasn’t feeling well, she always wanted to be near me. I made sure she didn’t get her spirits down, and helped her keep track of her medicine. I sat at her bedside for hours, praying for her to get better. After returning to Fallada, we discovered that it was being away from home that had made her so sick. Going back there cured her, and it’s like she was never sick to begin with ... but a part of me still wants to protect her. When our parents died, I was the one who held her hand and told her everything would be all right. I feel like I’m failing her by being here instead of in Fallada protecting her.”
Reaching out, he placed a hand on hers the same way Rothatin just had. Except, when he held her hand, it did not feel like the warm affection of a brother. It felt like a caress that made the surface of her skin tingle, and caused her pulse to race.
“I understand that you want to be there for her, but you’re needed here. No matter how much you might want to be two places at once, you cannot be all things to all people.”
Snatching her hand away, she shot to her feet, narrowing her eyes at him. “You mean, like how I can’t be with both you and Charles? Is that what you mean?”
It was irrational to lash out at him when he was only tryin
g to help her feel better. But, she couldn’t let him touch her, or look at her with those beautiful blue eyes, or she might start crying. Anger seemed like a good defense against the humiliation of letting on just how much she missed him.
He flinched as if she’d struck him, then rose slowly to face her. “Phaedra, do not put words into my mouth. I only meant—”
“I know what you meant,” she snapped. “Just stop it, okay? Stop trying to be there for me, or make me feel better, or whatever. You ended things, so let me go. Just ... stop it.”
She didn’t make any sense, yet Arrian, in that infuriating way of his, seemed to understand her perfectly. He had promised to always care about her, to always be there ... but Phaedra didn’t think she could stand for him to uphold that promise. Not if they weren’t going to be together. It hurt too damn much to have to be confronted with what she’d missed out on.
With a slow nod, he backed away from her, lowering his gaze and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Very well. If that is what you want, I will respect your wishes.”
Folding her arms over her chest, she avoided meeting his gaze. If she kept looking at him, she might break. “Yes, that is what I want.”
Without another word, he left, retreating into the kitchen with Selena and Titus. Blinking back tears, she resumed her place in the chair she’d been sitting in earlier, waiting for Rothatin to come back so they could plan their attack against Eranna. She wished he would hurry the hell up. Something needed to happen—anything to distract her from the misery eating her up inside.
The sound of footsteps on the carpet signaled Gretchen’s return. She sank back into her place on the sectional, peering at Phaedra with raised eyebrows.
“Damn, girl, and I thought I had issues,” she muttered.
Phaedra wanted to be irritated by that, but could only laugh. Gretchen had a way of making the people around her smile with her dry sense of humor and sarcasm.
“Didn’t you know?” she teased. “We’re all messed up in some way. Fallada is a hodgepodge of people with curses, dark pasts, and love life problems.”
Giving her a big grin, Gretchen laughed. “Well, I guess that means I’ll fit right in.”
Selena entered the room, but faltered in front of the television, a sandwich clutched in one hand, a bag of chips in the other. “Um, you guys?”
Phaedra glanced up to the television, which had been muted during their meeting. But, as everyone filed in to catch a glimpse of the screen, the sound was not needed. The headline spread across the bottom of the screen as a reporter’s lips moved swiftly with the report: Seventeen-year-old Girl Missing in the Bronx.
“Damn it,” Titus muttered.
“Shit,” Gretchen agreed.
“Looks like Eranna has the jump on us,” Arrian said solemnly.
A cold chill raced down Phaedra’s spine.
STEPPING OUT INTO THE hallway, Rothatin was relieved to find En’im striding toward him. Her face broke out in a smile as she approached, stopping short to bow to him. She executed it with military precision, her movements crisp and sharp. She dressed much like he did to blend into the human realm—blue jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers. Typically, he never saw her out of her armor, or the tunics and leggings similar to those he wore. Still, she possessed a femininity that he found pleasing. Her golden blonde hair and olive green eyes were complemented with a youthful face. There was nothing about her that put him off. Nothing he could complain about in regards to her looks or manners, nor her bloodline.
No reason to talk himself out of what he was about to do.
“General,” she said once she had straightened. “It is good to see that you’ve returned safely from Goldun. What news of Princess Jocylene?”
“She fares well,” he replied. “I was able to heal her, and she now rests in Goldun.”
En’im breathed an audible sigh of relief. “That is wonderful news, indeed. Do we have orders on how to proceed from here? The others are a bit restless waiting ... they wish to strike while Eranna’s forces are at their weakest.”
Taking her arm and leading her a bit away from the door so they couldn’t be overheard, he cleared his throat. “I’ve just finished speaking with our princesses about the latest developments, and am happy to bring you up to speed. But, first, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you.”
Her brows furrowed. “Of course.”
“With the end of this war looming on the horizon, and our princesses taking their rightful places as the leaders in this fight, I’ve come to realize that it’s time for me to tend the other duties of my position—time for me to think of life after we’ve won.”
She smiled again, and he found that she was far prettier when she did. “What a wonderful time it will be, General. Fallada restored to its former glory ... its people free to live without fear. I look forward to it.”
How optimistic she was. Perhaps some of that optimism could ingrain itself in him once he’d married her. Gods knew he needed it.
“Yes, wonderful indeed,” he murmured. “One of the most important duties of being General of the Warrior Fae is marrying and producing an heir. At my age, I am the oldest general to go unwed in the history of Goldun. It is an oversight I intend to correct at the earliest opportunity.”
“Oh, how splendid for you, General,” she said with a gasp. “Is your chosen bride someone I know?”
He felt his face heating as he realized how terribly he was messing this up. Yet, like everything else in his life, this proposal would be efficient, with no time wasted on romance or flowery words. He would not lie to En’im and delude her into thinking he could offer things he was incapable of.
“I had hoped it would be you,” he stated. “That is, if you are amenable.”
Her eyes went wide, her mouth gaping open for several seconds. She blinked, shaking her head as if confused. “M-me, General?”
Nodding, he clasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, En’im ... you. I realize that the timing of my proposal might not be the best, but if you need time to think about it—”
“Why?”
He frowned when the question exploded from her mouth, halting him mid-sentence. “Why?”
She nodded. “Yes. Why me?”
Damn it. He hadn’t expected this.
“Well, we are more than general and captain. Don’t you think? I’ve always thought of you as a friend.”
Her expression softened and she reached out, placing one hand on his arm. “Of course we are.”
He nodded. “Good. I could arrange a betrothal with another Fae royal, and marry someone I barely know, but that is not what I want. If I’m going to marry, I should hope I could at least like my wife. Aside from that, you understand better than most the sacrifices and burdens of being a warrior. I believe we would suit each other.”
“I-I ... well, this is all so sudden,” she stammered.
“Will you at least think about it?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” she answered. “I must say, I am rather flattered. I am certainly the last person who might expect to receive such an offer from you.”
It sat on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she could mean by that. Thinking better of it, he held the question back. Instead, he took a step toward her and did something he hadn’t planned on when approaching her.
He took her into his arms and kissed her.
If they were going to be wed, he needed to know if he could feel even the slightest glimmer of attraction toward her. Yes, she was beautiful, but a part of him wanted everything she was not.
She gasped against his lips, but eventually sank against him, resting her hands on his chest and responding to his kiss with an eagerness he did not expect.
Closing his eyes, he tried not to wish for that scent of pine and roses filling his nose. Threading his fingers through her hair with his free hand, he fought not to think of lustrous waves the color of soil. He endeavored not to wish she would tangle her fingers in his hair, gripping the
m in an almost painful hold. He fought against the longing for more—for the sort of passion that felt as if he were being battered from all sides by a raging storm.
He tried, and he failed.
Apparently, it was going to take a bit more time to get a certain princess out of his system. Still, En’im’s kiss had been nice enough, and if her dropped eyelids and rapid breath once he’d pulled away were any indication, it had certainly done something for her.
“Oh, my,” she whispered. “That was ... unexpected.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Indeed?”
She laughed. “In a good way, General.”
Leaning toward her again, he smirked. “En’im, don’t you think now would be a good time to start calling me by my first name? At least, when we are alone.”
Her breath hitched and she grew stiff, as if she thought he might kiss her again. Rothatin had almost made up his mind to oblige her, when the door to the apartment opened and Gretchen appeared.
“Dude, you gotta see this,” she said. “The poo is already hitting the fan.”
With a sigh, Rothatin nodded. “Very well. Come, Em’im. We’ll see what happened, and then I can update you on the other happenings.”
“Certainly,” she replied, giving him a sly grin. “Rothatin.”
As she followed him back into the apartment, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. While she hadn’t given him a firm answer, he maintained hope that she would accept his proposal. She was unlikely to receive a better one, as few men could boast his status and position in Goldun. Marriage to him would elevate her in a way she might have never imagined. She would say yes, he felt certain. Then, he could move forward with the rest of his long life. For once, at least, part of it seemed to be on the right track.
Chapter Six
DESDEMONA GRIPPED THE arms of her chair, fighting to keep her expression passive and her back ramrod straight as the procession filed into the throne room of Semran Hall. In truth, the massive chair she sat in was a throne, made of pure silver. The blood red cushions cradled her bottom and back, making it comfortable, though the large shards of silver jutting up toward the ceiling left her feeling anxious. They were created to make the person sitting there look imposing, but all they did was make her feel as if she was too small to sit there. Not large enough. Not strong enough. Not smart enough.
Flight of the Phoenix Page 7
