The Eternal Dusk (Daughter of the Phoenix Book Two)

by Victoria J. Price

  Three small moons shone in a clear night sky, and the familiar smell of sweet pine and jasmine filled her nostrils. This was the same forest where she’d arrived in Ohinyan before, when she fell through from Highgate Cemetery and Alexander had caught her. So why hadn’t she fallen from a great height, like last time?

  Fia looked around to get her bearings; she was high above most of the forest, which stretched out below her as one eerie, shadowy canopy. In the distance, a cluster of small peaks jutted above the canopy—where she and Noor had been captured weeks ago. Or was it months? It felt like years ago, now.

  She held her bleeding arm and let out a quiet whistle as her heartbeat returned to normal. Normally she’d be counting her breaths to calm herself. But she’d made it back, and a strange calm settled over her. Camp tonight, she told herself as she looked up at the stars.

  She knew she wouldn’t be able to see the sky spirits from here, but she scanned the sky for them anyway, turning in every direction to search for them until the moonlight was blocked out and a shadow fell over her.

  The sound of great wings beating rhythmically was accompanied by a graceful landing from a winged horse, much larger and more elegant than any ordinary horse. Its body was covered in thick, matted hair like a bison’s and its heavy black mane hung wildly across its neck and face.

  “Arion!” Fia cried, throwing her good arm up to hug him as best she could.

  Arion knelt on his foreleg, the other stretched out in front of him, and lowered his head in greeting. “It is good to see you have returned safely, my friend.” A low rumbling sound in his throat accompanied his words. “But I see you are injured, come, we must get that seen to immediately.” He knelt on both knees so that Fia could hold on to his mane and throw herself up onto his back. She buried her fingers into his mane, relishing in the sensation she’d thought she was never going to feel again. She was home.

  “How did you know to find me here?” Fia called out against the wind as Arion rose effortlessly into the air, the rhythmic beating of his wings pushing them higher, higher.

  “The Shadows and I, we have been watching the windows in this forest for your return. The angels tell me it is not much bigger than where you come from on Earth, so I knew it was just a matter of time before you appeared from one of them.”

  Fia laughed. A forest the size of London—how many more windows were there? And that shadow that had passed over her really had been a Shadow—great black birds as old as Ohinyan itself. “Thank you, Arion. I couldn’t have asked for a better welcome party.” She felt a vibration of sound through Arion’s flank in acknowledgement. He was the last of his kind—the last winged horse in all Ohinyan. It was because of him that she’d fulfilled her part of the witches’ prophecy—that she would unite the people and creatures of Ohinyan.

  She pushed aside her disappointment that the only part she’d played in it was by communicating—even though that’s exactly what the Ohinyan witches had hoped she could do. A gift for talking. It felt so ridiculous, and yet, she wouldn’t be able to speak with Arion without it. Her chest flushed with heat at the thought, and her palms warmed in Arion’s mane. She was going to help, and she’d do whatever was necessary.

  The journey was fast, and Fia was grateful for it. Sitting astride Arion was no easy feat, and her arm was throbbing. It would likely become another scar to add to the ones she’d accrued on her last visit. He set down gently in a grassy clearing, kneeling for her to dismount.

  “Fia,” another familiar voice called from the trees. The Lady Noor stepped out from beneath the canopy, the glittering blue stone of her circlet reflecting the moonlight.

  “Noor!” Fia cried out, running towards Noor and the others that followed her.

  “She’s injured.” Noor spoke to the witch beside her, as Fia threw her arms around her friend’s waist.

  “I’d forgotten how tall you were,” Fia mumbled. Dark blue eyes gazed down at her, and a smile broke across Noor’s face. Fia never had found out how old she was—not much older than her, if she had to guess, and she had a quality about her that was not unlike Jo.

  Arion maintained a polite distance as they worked on her wound, but Fia observed a silent conversation pass between him and Noor—one of Noor’s illusions, no doubt. Ohinyan’s witches had their own way of communicating, but not all the creatures were responsive.

  As the witches healed her arm, she explained everything that had happened since she’d left Ohinyan. About the fox, and the Earth witches. About Halvar and the angels disappearing. How she’d found a way back, and before she’d barely even finished her own story, she was asking them all questions. What was happening with the coalition between the witches and the Makya—the fire wielders of Ohinyan? Had they found Lorn, the renegade Makya who had escaped with her brother, Jerum? Was there any way to stop the sun dying? Or the windows closing? Had they found a way to stop Erebus? Where was Alexander?

  At that last question, Noor held her gaze. “Where is Alexander?” Fia repeated, after thanking the witch who was tying the ends of a bandage to her elbow.

  “On Earth.” Noor fell quiet, waiting for Fia to speak, and as Fia’s mouth opened, ready to ask another question, the witch continued. “We heard from Hazel about the disappearances. She is part of this coven, the coven I tried to take you to when you first came to Ohinyan. Alexander wanted to go immediately. He left only hours ago. But the windows—”

  “Yes. The window I just came through closed immediately. I know.” Fia shook her dusty raincoat as best she could with one arm. “He made it through, I’m sure he did.”

  “But you didn’t meet with him?” Noor asked. “He intended to seek you out immediately.”

  Fia looked back, trying to work out which direction the tunnel she’d come through was in. No one would have survived that, not even an angel. She shivered as she thought of what it would have felt like to be passing through the window as it closed and shook the thought away.

  “No,” she said. “I’m… um… He’ll be okay, right? His priorities are his duties to Earth and Ohinyan.” She cleared her throat as she felt the panic begin to snake its way up from her stomach. “I’m sure he made it. He probably started investigating the angel disappearances the moment he returned to Earth. Right?” She wanted to sit with her head between her knees but didn’t. One, two, three. He’ll be fine.

  “Fia.” Noor spoke softly, taking Fia’s hand gently in hers. “There is a very real possibility that he didn’t make it through. We’ve had no word from Earth since he left; normally we’d have received a message by now.”

  Fia shook Noor’s hands away from her own, leaning forward onto her knees for a moment, breathing in huge gulps of air. “I told you. He’ll be investigating the angel disappearances. He’s out there, I know he is.” She scrunched her raincoat into a ball and shoved it deep into her backpack, adjusted her bow and arrows and threw the whole thing up onto her shoulder.

  “Very well. You have filled in some gaps for us. Come, we’ll talk with the others.” Noor rose to her feet, her thigh-high leather boots reaching almost to Fia’s waist, and her silver cuffs glittering in the moonlight.

  Arion whinnied behind them, tapping a great hoof gently on the ground. “I prefer to sleep out in the open, I will meet you here in the morning, Fia.” He tucked his wings behind him as he spoke.

  “I understand. I’m so grateful you came to look for me.” Fia held a palm gently against the side of his nose. Arion’s hot earthy breath filled the space between them for a moment. He lowered his head in understanding as Fia and the witches made their way into the forest.

  Faces stared at them from the shadows as they walked. Some whispered Fia’s name. Breaking through the darkness, balls of flame burst into existence, and within moments stood as people beside the witches. Fia resisted the urge to pull her dagger from her boot; these new arrivals were Makya and most of her previous interactions with them had not been pleasant.

  “The coalition is going well, Fia,�
� Noor said quietly as they walked. “Much progress has been made since you left. We hope to be able to manage dropping temperatures in built-up areas as the sun dies, and we’re still putting together a plan for relocation if we can. The Makya have been extremely cooperative.”

  “Tell that to Maab,” Fia said softly. Her dreams were still haunted with visions of Maab’s mate Enne, diving before her as a beautiful snow leopard to save her from Lorn, the renegade Makya, and then laying still in the snow, never to get up again.

  “Tell him yourself when he returns. We expect him back in the next few days.” Noor’s expression was gentle. “But I am sure he will tell you no more than he already has; Enne gave his life to save yours, a death he would be proud of.”

  Fia felt for the little bracelet with the bird charm—still safe around her wrist beside the witch knot Noor had tied for her. The bracelet was all she had left of her sister. Sophie and Enne, they were only the beginning. Fia knew she was going to lose more people she loved before this was over. The inevitability of it knocked the breath from her.

  A brown bear came running at them through the trees, black eyes glistening like polished obsidian, but no weapons were drawn as it approached. Within less than a full leap, the bear transformed and fell elegantly to the ground as a woman, covered only by her long, dark hair that fell in waves to her navel.

  Fia blinked. A shapeshifter. Of course.

  But she hadn’t mastered Noor’s cool expression, because the woman turned to her and spoke. “You are right to be on your guard,” she said as two witches helped her into a robe. Her words fell heavily on her Ts and Ds. “My kind are divided. As are many of the creatures of Ohinyan.” Enne had told Fia as much before he died—the Nords were shapeshifters, and their allegiances were divided.

  “Sapha, what news do you bring?” Noor asked.

  Sapha glanced left and right, aware of eyes on her from every direction. “Erebus has been released.”

  A shiver travelled up Fia’s spine. Erebus had told her she’d meet him soon… was he planning his escape, even then? Gasps and whispers grew louder from the shadows.

  Noor held a hand across her heart. “And the twelve angels?” she asked quietly.

  Sapha lowered her head. “Gone.”

  “Gone? Gone as in dead?” Fia stepped forward, reaching out for Sapha. “Twelve angels are dead?” she asked, the hysteria rising in her chest. Please, not Alexander.

  “Fia,” Noor placed a hand on Fia’s shoulder. “This way.” She gestured ahead to a break in the trees where hide tents were carefully positioned among them. Makya and witches worked together on the camp, building more fires, or cooking food. Fia heard her name whispered once more.

  “Why are they… why are they all looking at me?” Fia asked as Noor sat her down beside a fire and passed her a wooden bowl.

  Noor drank from a small clay cup, the firelight reflecting off the silver cuffs wrapped around her arms and her circlet. Two swords lay sheathed at her feet.

  “Who were the twelve angels?” Fia couldn’t control the shaking in her voice.

  “Not Alexander, or Runa, or Malachai.” Noor handed Fia a piece of parchment with names scrawled across it.

  Fia bit down on her lip. Not Alexander. Or her friends. Nor Halvar, either. Alexander is fine. You’ll see him again soon. She played with the cuff on her wrist.

  Erebus had always been a threat, an ancient darkness imprisoned within Ohinyan, trying to escape as the sun died. Manipulating people to do his bidding, like Lorn. Fia shivered at the memory of his voice. He’d tried to manipulate her too, many times before. Told her if she didn’t leave Ohinyan he’d go after her friends. And she couldn’t let that happen, so she’d left. She’d fulfilled her part in the prophecy by bringing Arion back to the people. But then the angels were disappearing in London, and everything changed.

  “We hoped you’d come back, but it had to be of your own choosing,” Noor began. “Arion and the Mizunese, that was just the beginning, Fia. There is so much more you can do. Have you not felt it?” she asked, placing her empty cup beside her feet.

  Fia had known it since the day she’d returned to Earth. Speaking with Arion had only been the beginning. The crow, the fox, her ability to communicate with anything that would listen was growing. And she knew there was more she could do to help in Ohinyan, she felt it in her core.

  Fia held Noor’s gaze but said nothing. What if Erebus delivered on his promise? Why hadn’t Noor heard his whispers, or any of the others?

  “The days are becoming ever shorter as the sun dies; we are running out of time. It’s not just the windows that are becoming unstable. Now that Erebus has returned, we have to reach the furthest corners of this world before he does, before he can convince more creatures to join him. The inhabitants of Ohinyan will need our help when the sun sets for the last time.” Noor was quiet for a moment as she watched a log spit embers into the night. “It has been difficult for us to reach out to the creatures of Ohinyan, with the angels’ numbers diminishing. Witches and Makya are not welcome sights amongst many, and we are often turned away before we even have the chance to speak.”

  “I want to help, in any way I can.” Fia meant it, and she felt a flutter of hope that she might be able to make a difference.

  Noor smiled. “When the sun dies, without protection, a great many will die. Temperatures will plummet, our world will be in darkness. But if we can gather them into groups, with the help of the Makya, we can provide warmth and shelter. So that when the sun dies, we’ll be ready—even if Erebus is waiting.”

  “But what about Erebus? What if it’s all for nothing, if he gets to them first, or worse…” Was there something inside her—something that told Erebus she was different, not like the others? Was that why he’d whispered to her?

  “We must try,” Noor replied. “For the sake of Ohinyan. We must try.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m not going back this time. Ohinyan is my home now too.” Fia watched the fire as Noor spoke with another witch. Small pieces of wood hissed and glowed red in the heat, and Fia thought of the sun, reddening as it died out. What was going to happen?

  She remembered being in a museum in Denmark as a small child, her sister and her parents had walked on ahead, and she’d been mesmerised by a bronze statue of a horse pulling the sun on a chariot. Beside it was a diagram of the sun’s journey across the sky by day, and through the underworld by night. But it wasn’t just the horse and its chariot that pulled it, there were other helpers too: a sun ship, fish, snakes, swimming birds. She’d traced her fingers across the glass case, outlining each creature that had a part in the sun’s journey.

  She stared into the crackling fire. Would it take a whole army of Ohinyan’s creatures to rekindle the sun? Would they have to drag it through the underworld first? Not that she believed in such a place. She didn’t think they believed that here either.

  “What will happen when the sun dies? Have you found out any more information since I left?” Fia asked as Noor ate from a similar wooden bowl to her own.

  Noor paused between mouthfuls of food. “We still don’t know for certain. We think only the Shadows know.”

  “I’ve seen a witch speak with a Shadow before. Arion said they were helping him look for me, what’s stopping you from asking them?” Fia tried to hide her frustration as she spoke but doubted her success.

  Noor laughed and finished the last of the rabbit stew from her bowl. “Our communication with them is limited. They help only when they choose to, not when we ask them. And when we do… talk… with them, as you would put it, it’s not like you and I talking now.”

  “But I’ve seen your illusions, Noor, they’re so detailed.” Fia had never experienced anything like Noor turning an airship prison cell full of Makya and Aurelli into tiny rabbits chasing each other through a forest.

  “Making someone believe something is very one-sided. Having a meaningful conversation is much more difficult. There is so much scope for misint
erpretation. Tangible things, those are straightforward. But time or feelings are much more complex. When I worked with the Aurelli through my illusions, it was successful because there was nothing complicated, it was all in the moment. Does that make sense?”

  Fia considered Noor’s words. “I’ll talk to them, then. Arion can take me.”

  Noor laughed gently again. “I admire your tenacity, Fia. But they are elusive things. They don’t always come to us when we call them. They come of their own accord. They carry messages only if they feel it serves a purpose for Ohinyan and lately they have been… less cooperative.”

  “So why wait for them to come to us if we can go straight to them?” Fia asked.

  “An excellent idea,” a voice said from behind her. Iridescent in the firelight, emerald eyes sparkled against ochre skin, long, dark hair framing her small face. Clay-red wings folded neatly behind her as she stepped forward to greet them.

  “Runa!” Fia leapt towards her, almost knocking the angel off her feet.

  “It’s good to see you too, Fia,” Runa laughed, peeling herself free from Fia’s grip, her hand falling to the cuff around Fia’s wrist.

  “Alexander…?” Fia began.

  “Will be fine. You’ll see each other again, okay?” Runa said.

  Fia bit down on her lip. You’ll see each other again. “Is Malachai with you?” she asked, searching left and right for any signs of Runa’s husband.

  “No, but if you’re ready to go looking for the Shadows, we’ll catch up with him soon.”

  “We will?” Fia traced her fingers over the cuff that Alexander had given her. It was his promise that he’d come back to her.

  “The Shadows nest beneath Alythia, so we’ll make a stop there first,” Runa replied.

  Noor nodded in agreement. “We’ll leave at dawn. Get as much information as you can from them. They will know how far and wide we’ll need to go if we’ve a chance at reaching everyone in time. It could be a matter of weeks before the sun dies.”