The Eternal Dusk (Daughter of the Phoenix Book Two)

by Victoria J. Price

  The last time Fia had stood in the docks of Ikothea, Lorn and the renegade Makya had launched an attack, and Altair’s fleet had set sail for the south. Was it only a few months ago? Weeks at most. She’d been a burden to them then. But she felt stronger now, different, somehow. She glanced at her hands. She wouldn’t let her friends down again. “We’ll be there. When will we see you next, and how will we keep in touch?”

  “Ohinyan has its ways.” Noor towered over them all, and the silver circlet on her forehead reflected the rippling water beside them.

  Fia sucked in a deep breath. You’ll see them again. “Runa, Malachai, please tell the general I saw his son on Earth, and that he looked well.” She smiled, and hoped it concealed the guilt she felt for not meeting with Halvar as they’d agreed. He’d have understood though—angels were going missing, and he had just as much interest in finding out why as she did. She rubbed her palms against her thighs. Alexander will be fine. He’ll find out why the angels are going missing, and he’ll come back. He has to.

  “Of course we will,” Runa replied. She and Malachai made their goodbyes and flew back across the water to the general. Fia pushed aside any thoughts of not seeing them again—things were different now, Ohinyan was her home.

  Mira’s girls played with Arion’s tail. “Arion has been a friend of our family for as long as I can remember, but he disappeared for many years. I’m assuming his presence has something to do with you?” the angel asked Fia with a smile.

  Fia laughed. “Something like that. It was good to meet you, Mira.” She meant it. She told herself she’d be back again soon, with Alexander.

  Mira took Fia’s hands in hers once more. “You as well. My brother will come back, you’ll be reunited soon enough.”

  Fia desperately hoped it were true. “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I still feel the pull of his thread.” Mira looked to her girls and held out her hands. “Lina, Anya, time to go.”

  The girls diligently followed their mother, and with a wave, flew hand in hand towards Ehnalia. A group of angels waved as they passed, calling out a greeting, but Fia didn’t hear their words.

  He could be dead. A window could have closed on him. Erebus could have got to him. One, two, three. Fia watched Alexander’s sister and nieces fly away as she steadied herself. “I will never get used to this.” One more breath in, one more exhale. You can do this. “Noor, Arion, shall we?”

  As Arion passed through the clouds above Ohinyan, Fia picked apart her thoughts. When Erebus was nothing more than a whisper, he’d found his way inside her head… manipulated her… now he was free, there would be no stopping his sick games. But the way the dark shadow back in the library had paused for a moment—even though there were no eyes she could see, Fia felt as if he’d looked right at her before he’d burst out of the window and fled. How do you defeat an ancient darkness? She hoped the Tahjiik would have the answer.

  Chapter Nine

  Fia

  A rion flew through the night, and Fia’s thoughts turned her insides to liquid. Alexander had to be alive, she couldn’t let herself believe anything different. She couldn’t take any more loss. She twirled the little bird charm on her bracelet—Sophie’s bracelet. So much had happened since Sophie’s death, and no matter how much time passed, there was still that familiar urge to want to pick up the phone and call her or tell her about the things that had happened. There were still mornings Fia woke up and forgot Sophie was gone—just for a few seconds before she was fully awake, and then the realisation, the memory of it was like ice water.

  She’d tried to sleep as Arion made his way to Ikothea, but her mind was too busy to let her rest. A small flock of birds flew past them in the darkness, nothing more than shadows against the clouds in the light of the moons.

  “How far away from the sky spirits are we?” Fia called out to Noor.

  Noor shuffled a little closer and leaned towards Fia’s ear. “They are visible just north of here.”

  Sophie wasn’t the only loss in the last few months. Were they all together somewhere, everyone she’d ever lost? Fia didn’t know what to believe. Some part of her wanted to know they were around, watching over her, checking in on her. Another wanted to believe they were free spirits, free to do what they wanted, to start over again.

  Jo had said something like that, not long after Sophie died—that if all we are is energy, energy can’t die, and so she thought of her loved ones as little orbs of light travelling through time and space.

  Fia’s cheeks flushed at the thought of Jo. She’d left her only friend behind without a proper explanation—what kind of friend does that? Fia groaned.

  “Are you unwell?” Noor asked over the wind.

  “No, I’m… don’t worry, I’m fine.” Maybe Alexander would find Jo and look out for her. That was a possibility, wasn’t it? Fia clung to that sliver of hope as lights glittered in the distance.

  “Ikothea lies ahead,” Arion bellowed.

  Grey moonlight reflected off water and glass skyscrapers as they approached. As the sun sluggishly rose, its dirty half-light hung over everything. Arion approached from the water, and Fia felt herself scanning the busy dockyard for a space he could land. From her experience, Ikothea would get busy soon, and fast. Three large ships were docked in the harbour with their masts and sails lowered, and Fia recognised one of them as Altair’s, the leader of the Navarii, and her friend.

  “Gather supplies, we’ll be heading west,” Arion called out.

  Fia raised an arm to shield her eyes. “West? Have you had an idea?”

  “Indeed.” As Arion circled, street vendors were already setting up for the day, and enormous tricycles carried sacks towards the ships. Just as one passed through the largest part of the dock, Arion touched down.

  Fia jumped down beside him, almost losing her footing at the weakness in her legs from flying through the night. The scent of bread and orange and cinnamon hit her as she stretched.

  “Witches are not permitted here, last I heard. I’ll need to remain out of sight.” Noor said, her eyes darting left and right.

  “I can’t imagine winged horses are allowed here either, but we’re here, aren’t we?” Fia smoothed her windswept hair and tied it up into a neater bun. “I think we need to get breakfast,” she said, heading towards the nearest street vendor.

  Arion scraped a hoof against the dirt.

  “What? They’re probably still sleeping, we’ve got plenty of time,” Fia said, waving a hand.

  Arion scraped his hoof again.

  “You both stay here if you don’t want to cause a scene, but you’ll be grateful when I come back with food,” Fia called out as she backed away.

  They didn’t protest—even if they had, Fia had no intention of turning back. She wasn’t even that hungry, she just needed a minute to herself. She stepped up onto one of the many walkways that crisscrossed over blue water. Skyscrapers shot straight up from the water, all glass panels and copper-coloured metal covered in great rivets. She tore off her jumper—she’d forgotten about the heat the buildings created. They powered the city, Alexander had told her not too long ago.

  Where was he now? Looking for windows? Fighting Earth witches? Fia ran her fingers across the cuff on her wrist and felt certain she could feel that thread tugging at her. He has to be alive.

  The city had started to wake up, and people filled the streets. Some had feline faces and tails that flicked behind them, some were covered in scales and poked their tongues out like lizards. There is so much more you can do. Have you not felt it? Noor’s words rattled around in her thoughts. Fia had felt something. But was it wishful thinking? Or was it just the burning need to help, to make a difference? She rubbed her hot palms against her sides at the thought and whistled quietly to herself.

  Birds flew down every now and then to pick at scraps from the ground as more and more vendors set up along bridges and beside skyscrapers. The smell of cinnamon grew stronger, and a small wooden cart with a t
attered green canvas hanging over one side caught Fia’s attention.

  A bent old woman stooped over the cart, her grey hair scraped back, and a worn navy apron tied around her waist. In one hand she held a pair of wooden tongs, and in the other a tray, from which she dished out small pastries one by one onto her cart. She looked up as Fia’s shadow cast across her work.

  “Two coppers apiece,” the old woman said with a toothy smile.

  Two coppers. Shit. Fia couldn’t even remember what money looked like here. She shoved a hand in her trouser pocket and pulled out the contents—a paper clip, a hair tie, and a few pieces of loose change from London.

  The old woman’s gaze fell from her wooden tongs to Fia’s palm. “Those are big coppers.” She put the tongs down and made a grabbing motion with her hand.

  Fia began to tip the entire contents of her hand into the old woman’s, but the woman made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Just the coppers,” she said.

  They were two penny pieces—five of them. Fia had no idea why she had so many in her pocket, they’d likely been through several washes and she’d never bothered to take them out.

  “I’ll give you five,” the old woman said, satisfied with her inspection.

  Fia blinked. “Great, thank you.”

  The woman tonged the steaming pastries into a paper bag and made to hand them over to Fia, just as someone bumped into her. If she’d been in London, she’d have worried it was a pickpocket, and she instinctively reached to check her cuff and bracelet weren’t missing. Still there. Her temper flared as she spun around.

  “My apologies,” a man with amber eyes said to her. “I should better watch my step.” He smirked and bowed low, backing away into the bustling crowd.

  That was weird. Fia rubbed her sweaty palms against her sides and took the bag of pastries from the waiting stall owner. Stranger yet that her temper had flared so suddenly. It’s just the grief brain, don’t be so hard on yourself. Her stomach growled as she took a bite out of one of the pastries, chocolate, cinnamon and orange rolling across her tongue.

  “Fia!” someone called out from the direction of the nearest bridge.

  “Dammit,” Fia muttered under her breath, wiping at crumbs and shoving the half-eaten pastry back in the bag, her stomach groaning in disagreement.

  “Fia, my child!” An old man with a leathery face and a great cloak that exaggerated his frame sauntered towards her, a bright smile across his face.

  Fia recognised him immediately and ran to greet him. “Altair.” She threw her arms around the old man as he laughed.

  “I heard you had returned,” Altair said, peeling himself away from the embrace. “Let me look at you.” He stood at arm’s length, inspecting her closely.

  Fia’s cheeks flushed. She felt the absence of her parents’ love every day, but being around Altair always filled that space a little. It reminded her what it was like to be loved unconditionally. In a way, she’d found a new family since she’d first arrived in Ohinyan.

  “You look well, no bandages, this time around.” Altair’s green eyes flashed as he smiled, and he flicked his chin towards the paper bag in Fia’s hands. “The cinnamon rolls are my favourite, too.” He winked and held out a hand.

  Fia laughed and dutifully handed one over before finishing her own.

  “Now, tell me how and why it is you are here. Are you with Alexander?”

  The last mouthful of cinnamon roll caught as she swallowed and scraped its way down her oesophagus. Worry crept its way back into her thoughts and she cleared her throat. “Alexander is on Earth. I think. I’m told we missed each other by a few hours.” She paused to give Altair a chance to reply, but he waited for her to keep talking. They were making their way back to the docks, at a much slower pace than Fia had left them. Altair was an old man after all. Although how he wasn’t sweltering in that cloak, Fia couldn’t fathom.

  “Angels were going missing, I decided to come back because… because I thought Alexander would want to know. But the window closed behind me when I came through, and we think the same happened with the window Alexander travelled through to Earth… there don’t seem to be any windows remaining in London. And the worst part is Erebus—he’s here. He escaped.” She held her hands behind her back as they walked, clutching tightly to the paper bag to disguise any shaking. How are we supposed to defeat an ancient darkness? “There has to be a way to stop him.”

  Altair placed a hand on her shoulder and turned to look at her. The streets were busier now, men and women passed by, creatures on two feet wearing clothes, the great tricycles ferried goods and people backwards and forwards. “We are learning all we can. We have heard whispers of a great many things—an army of spirits, missing angels, collapsed windows.” He pulled a small square of cloth from the folds of his cloak and dabbed at his brow. “We’ve been told of a woman who receives messages from the sky spirits, and we think she might be worth finding.”

  “She can talk with them?” Fia asked. Was Sophie a sky spirit, too?

  They arrived at the docks just as a tricycle pulled up to unload its passengers. It towered above them, and a flurry of people clambered down the wooden ladder an attendant had flung over the side.

  “We are uncertain, but we think it would be a good idea to find her.” Altair ushered her to one side as people hurried past. “I was here to meet Runa and Malachai, am I to assume you’ve come in their stead?”

  Fia nodded. “Is Maab with you?”

  Altair gestured towards the ships moored up in the docks. “His ship arrived yesterday; we are here to restock. Arion brought you, no doubt?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. The docks were busy now, and although Arion was big, he’d have been well camouflaged against the crates and sacks and flurry of people.

  “Fia!” Noor called out, and Fia spotted her from the deck of a ship looking down over the dockyard. Beside her stood Maab—as a man, not a white tiger—Nord, shapeshifter, Enne’s partner. Or he had been Enne’s partner, that is.

  It isn’t your fault he’s dead.

  But Enne had died trying to save her, so Fia couldn’t help but feel responsible. She leapt up the gangway to greet them. It was one of the ships that had joined the fleet to journey south, on her last visit to Ohinyan. The deck was hectic, sacks and barrels being loaded, and people busy at work. Above them, a flag with the symbol of Ohinyan flapped in the breeze.

  “It is good to see you well, Fia,” Maab said. His familiar accent rested heavily on the Ts and D like Sapha’s had. He wrapped a hand around her forearm in greeting. “Although I did not expect it to be so soon.”

  Altair joined them, greeting Noor formally—far more politely than Fia had seen him greet anyone else. So he still didn’t trust her then, but Fia supposed it would be difficult to trust someone you only knew of as a spy.

  “Fia, Arion is waiting. We’ve given him a saddlebag with supplies—a warmer coat for you, too. Do you still have the witch knot I gave you?” Noor reached for Fia’s wrist, checking for the string she’d tied around it not too long ago. “Remember what I told you. Untie this in your greatest moment of need.”

  Fia looked up into Noor’s eyes. They were a deep blue, just like the stone in the circlet that dipped onto her forehead. “Why would you need to remind me now? Aren’t you coming with us to find the Tahjiik?” Exhaustion pulled at her limbs, pushed down on her shoulders and whispered at her to rest just for a moment. But she couldn’t, not when so much was at stake.

  “I cannot. Maab has filled me in, I must find this woman who can speak with the sky spirits—if there is any truth to it. She may hold a great many secrets.” Noor examined the knot with care before letting go.

  Fia fiddled with the knot and silently counted her breaths. They were splitting up. You can do this. “We have people like that on Earth. They call themselves mediums.”

  “There are many?” Maab asked. He stood tall, his armour neatly clipped on. Fia found herself wondering how long it had been since he’d
changed into a tiger, and how he could bear the weight of clothing at all.

  She leaned over the gunwale and looked back at Ikothea, exhaling slowly through her nose. In the dockyard, a vendor selling rainbow coloured flowers greeted an odd-looking couple who towered over the stall, passing flowers between themselves as they made their selection. “There are many who say they have the ability to talk to the dead. Whether they can or not…” Part of her wanted it to be true. That all the dead were contactable somehow, there to talk to when you needed them. But another part of her wanted to know they were free—free to choose whether to just be happy in whatever form they chose or to do life all over again.

  “It’s time to go,” Noor said, leaning on the railing beside her.

  “Here,” Fia said, handing over the bag of pastries. “I found breakfast. If you die, I’m going to be really, really angry you know.”

  Noor laughed. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got more than a trick or two up my sleeve.” She bumped Fia’s arm lightly with a fist. “Arion is waiting.”

  “We’ll see you again soon, Fia,” Altair said.

  Maab said nothing and simply nodded in the way she’d become accustomed to.

  “You’d better,” Fia replied.

  Noor gave her a tight hug. “Soon,” was all she said.

  Fia stepped back onto the dockyard and looked up to see Arion’s silhouette at the end of the jetty. The perpetual half-light hung over everything, and oil lamps remained lit despite the time. She let out a quiet whistle. You can do this. But what if they couldn’t find the Tahjiik? What if they found them but she couldn’t convince them to help? What if they were too late, and the sun died long before they could find any help? She counted her breaths.

  You can do this.

  Chapter Ten

  Alexander

  A lexander observed the witches below him from a safe distance. Hazel had made wards for him and Halvar—a strip of leather tied around their wrists, not unlike the witch knot Noor tied for Fia before she left Ohinyan. He ran his fingers over the leather as he waited. If it didn’t work, the witches’ talismans would render him and Halvar as useless as the night Erebus was freed. The night twelve angels died.