The Eternal Dusk (Daughter of the Phoenix Book Two)

by Victoria J. Price

  “I didn’t mean—I would never suggest—”

  He raised a hand to silence her, his smile unwavering. “I know. But I am complete as I am. I live a full life. I do everything I have ever dreamed of. This is who I am.”

  Fia let his words sink in as she searched the plains below for any sign of Maab. He wasn’t too difficult to spot. He was closer than before, basking in the sun beside another watering hole. Who I am.

  “When will you tell them?” He spoke in Asharian, even when Maab wasn’t around.

  “When I start to believe it.”

  Sophie. Enne. Arion. She could be the fire mother for them, couldn’t she? In their name. But Alexander… she’d be everything he despised. It was a betrayal, whichever way she looked at it. She clutched at the little bag of witch stones she wore tucked inside her top and wished Noor were there to talk to. She’d understand. Had she found the woman who could speak with the sky spirits?

  “Okwata—Djira, it’s very far north, isn’t it? Far enough north to see the sky spirits?” The thought had occurred to her before when she’d been with Arion—she could try to speak with them. Now she had the wingsuit, it would be easier, wouldn’t it?

  Okwata watched Maab as he made his way up the slope towards them. The air rippled in the heat and distorted the tiger’s shape in the distance. “Ah, you wish to speak with them. They won’t come just because you are a loquere. The sky spirits speak with very few.”

  Loquere. The word they used in Ohinyan for Fia. One who speaks, the translation Alexander had given her when they were back in the south. “But they do speak, sometimes? To some of the living?”

  He wheeled his chair around so that he could face her, just as Maab jumped up and over the wall and landed beside her. “They do. Whilst the majority of the devices are being delivered, there will be time for you to leave before responses start coming in. I’m working on a mobile version of the receiver for you, so that you can leave as soon as it’s ready.”

  This had all taken so much time. Fia considered her options. “How many more messages need to be recorded?”

  “Double what you’ve done today.”

  She puffed out a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll finish recording, and then I’m going to see the sky spirits.”

  “I’ll send word for Runa. I’ve no doubt she’ll want to accompany you.”

  “No. That’s not necessary. I need to stock up on arrows, but I have everything else I need. You can tell her I’m going but I’m not going to waste anyone else’s time.” She scooped her hair back into a high bun and tied it with an elastic band Okwata had found for her in the lab. “That means you too,” she said to Maab, switching to the common tongue. “Tomorrow I’m going back to the ship for my things—I’m going to pay a visit to the sky spirits.”

  “As you wish.” Maab’s breathing was ragged from sprinting in the heat, and he slumped down in the shade of the wall, the tip of his pink tongue poking from his mouth.

  “Let’s do this then.” She made her way back to the glasshouse, giving herself a silent pep talk as Okwata wheeled along beside her.

  ***

  By the time she’d finished the recordings the next day, Fia’s voice was hoarse. Okwata still hadn’t finished the mobile receiver, so she’d have to go back for it. After that, she was due to return to Maab’s ship to be ready to begin preparing the inhabitants of Ohinyan for the Makya’s arrival. It was going to be hard to convince them—Lorn and her brother Jerum had caused so much damage, many would be wary of the Makya, Fia knew. And there was still every chance they’d run out of time before they could reach everyone.

  When she stepped through the window from Okwata’s lab back into his home in Ohinyan, she concentrated on any sensation she might feel, but felt nothing. She only noticed a slight humming in her ears the moment she passed through. Maab roared as he followed behind her. “You’re really not a fan of doing that, are you?”

  He huffed quietly as he padded along behind her, out of Okwata’s home and down the stone steps of Djira to the harbour. The sea air hit Fia once they were out in the open, along with the smell of the city—burning wood, cooking food, spices, fish.

  People stared as they walked—most likely staring at the presence of a great white tiger in their streets, but Maab didn’t seem to care. Little bothered him. Although that wasn’t entirely true, Fia knew. She knew he missed Enne—how could he not? She’d seen the way they were together. The way they’d kissed. The way their hands found each other in a crowd. She knew Maab must have missed the warmth of Enne’s embrace as much as she missed Alexander’s.

  She pushed the thought aside as they stepped up onto the ship. “I’m going to get my things,” she said, without looking back at Maab, and raced down to his office to grab her wingsuit and her bow. Okwata had given her a full quiver of arrows of his own making—with emerald feather tips from the birds Fia had seen down in the plains near his lab.

  As she hauled the wingsuit up onto the deck, Maab was already fully dressed and fastening leather bracers to his arms. “You’re quicker than me,” she said, almost out of breath. She’d forgotten how heavy the suit was. “I really need to train as soon as I get back.”

  “You and me,” Maab said, lifting the wingsuit up for Fia. “The moment you return.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” she smiled. This all felt too easy. He hadn’t objected to her going, hadn’t tried to convince her to stay. But then he’d given his speech about Osara being a strong leader, so Fia didn’t question him.

  Okwata had given her a better coat too, with a fur-lined hood, and a pair of leather gloves with a soft lining. It was going to be freezing, but she was ready.

  “That way.” Maab pointed to the north. “Keep flying in a straight line, you’ll see them eventually. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.”

  Fia pressed at the switches across her chest and leapt into the air. The elation was all-consuming as the wind whipped at her face. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed flying, even after only a few days without the wings. Woah. She almost lost balance and righted herself. Guess I still need a bit more practice. She didn’t dare look back at Maab, just in case he’d seen her falter, and instead pressed on towards the north across the open ocean, holding onto her bow as the copper wings beat rhythmically in time with each other.

  The dying sun had begun to set, and Fia could see a few stars flickering in the sky already. And then something white caught her eye. A long, graceful neck and large wings. Osara. Of course, Maab had sent her. And she was grateful—after so long feeling like there was no one left to look out for her, Fia knew that here in Ohinyan she had a whole handful of people doing just that for her. A family.

  They flew on but Osara hung back at a polite distance—whether she knew Fia was aware of her presence, Fia couldn’t say, but she was a constant companion as Fia continued north. The last of the light slipped away, nothing but the dim glow of the moons lighting the way. They were duller in the dying sun’s light, and they did little to light up the sky.

  She heard the chimes first. The familiar sound of the sky spirits, like a thousand bells ringing in unison. Then a ribbon of violet rippled before her, then azure and emerald and magenta. This was it. The sky spirits.

  “Hello?” she called out, bringing herself to an upright position in the air. Somewhere below her was snow, she assumed, because it wasn’t an empty void of dark water anymore, but how far below she couldn’t tell.

  “Please, sky spirits. I need your help.” She wished and wished that Sophie would speak to her. That she could see her sister even for just a moment, to tell her all the things she should have said. She bit down on her lip and willed herself not to cry. She’d never have thought she could talk to Sophie again.

  “Fia.” A voice spoke from the ribbons of colour, but Fia couldn’t see a form or a face. A man’s voice. A familiar voice, with the same heavy accent as—

  “Enne!” Fia spun around in the air searching for him, the rib
bons of colour wrapping around her.

  “Fia. It is good to see you well, my friend.”

  Then she saw him, his familiar wavy hair and warm face smiling at her amongst the display of colours. She couldn’t help the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. “Enne,” she stifled a sob. “It’s so good to see you. Maab is going to be even more furious with me,” she laughed, but the sob that she’d pushed back came out with it. She was aware of Osara hovering somewhere beside her, but the bird remained silent. “Thank you, for saving my life. I can never—”

  “You would have done the same, Fia, I’ve no doubt. But I know you didn’t just come all this way to thank me.” A magenta ribbon waved through his ethereal form as he spoke, and he faced her as if floating in the air was the most normal thing for them both to be doing.

  She wiped a gloved hand across her face and sucked in a deep breath of cold air to calm herself. “I have so many questions. I don’t know where to start.”

  “I will answer what I can. I can’t tell you what’s ahead—but I can tell you this—you’ve been lied to by more than one.” He looked away for a moment—to something Fia couldn’t see.

  Lied to by more than one. Dante? “Can you tell me the lies?”

  Enne shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  Okwata? He’d given them so much help and asked for nothing in return. But the Shadows had told her to seek out the Tahjiik… so Enne couldn’t be referring to him. That only left her friends. Her family. “Can you… is my sister okay? Can you speak with Sophie?”

  Enne smiled. “Things work differently here, Fia. But yes, Sophie is fine. She watches you. We all do.”

  All. Her parents, too? Arion? Alexander? She couldn’t bring herself to ask. She wasn’t ready to know the answer. Not yet. Not here, with only Osara for company. She didn’t think she’d make the journey back to Djira. “The Shadows told me, only the fire mother can rekindle the sun. Am I the fire mother?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I don’t want to be someone capable of so much destruction.” It was the truth.

  “So don’t destroy then. The choice is yours and yours alone.” Enne folded his arms across his chest, and it dawned on Fia that he wasn’t in his snow leopard form.

  “Why are you human here?”

  He laughed. “I can be anything I want now. I just chose to be human for you, for this meeting.”

  “Maab misses you, you know. We all do.”

  Enne was quiet for a moment, and she was close enough to see his eyes turn glassy, even though his eyes weren’t really there at all. “Please tell him I miss him very much, with all my heart. But I am here with him every day. He knows how much I love him.”

  Fia nodded. She thought if she said anything she might cry again, and besides, she was the one who’d survived. Her mind was racing, her thoughts were too muddled to make any sense of them. There was so much she needed to ask. She cleared her throat as she looked at her hands. “What can you tell me about magic?”

  “Only what you already know. I can tell you no more. The rest you have to learn for yourself.” He smiled gently at her, in that way he always used to. “I’m sorry, Fia, I can’t stay. You are a good person. And you will make a difference to many lives. You already have. You must put aside your worries. Ohinyan needs the fire mother.”

  Fia didn’t get a chance to reply. The ribbons of colour shimmered and disappeared—Enne along with them. She wiped at more tears as they fell freely down her cheeks. There were so many things she hadn’t asked him. About Alexander. About who had betrayed her. About Erebus. What a wasted opportunity. She felt her cheeks flush with shame as she realised Osara had witnessed it all—including her inability to ask anything of worth.

  The white bird circled her but said nothing, and Fia was grateful for it. There was nothing to be done but head back to Djira and the others.

  Ohinyan needs the fire mother. Enne’s words played on repeat as she made the journey back south.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Alexander

  A lexander put himself between Lorn and the fight behind him. He brought his hands up, bringing with them all the dust and debris from the basement floor. The wind surged past him and swirled as the debris spiralled in the air around him, creating a shield between them.

  “What’s this? The descendant of Gabriel finally found his magic?” She retaliated with a single fireball and flung it towards his feet, and with a swipe of his hand, he threw it back at her. His magic fuelled her inferno and sent the flames back in a whooshing roar. The flames engulfed her, and with a practiced move she wrapped the flames around her wrist as if they were a whip ready to strike.

  But deflecting her attacks wouldn’t be enough, he’d need to find a way to bring her to a standstill. Alexander used his magic to surge himself towards her, slamming her into one of the wooden beams with a sickening crack. He didn’t want to take her life, but he would if he had to.

  A pained sound escaped from her and her eyes blazed red. “Where has this Alexander been hiding? You’ve suddenly become interesting.”

  She was playing with him, he knew it. But he didn’t dare use the chance to look behind him, to see if his friends were succeeding against the witches. Alexander hadn’t seen the witches fight and hoped they were sloppy—from what he knew they needed time to prepare their magic, sacrifices and objects to draw it from. The sounds from behind him indicated that they’d been taken completely off guard, just as he’d hoped. The spirits had made sure of that. “Halvar, report.” Barely a few seconds had passed, and Lorn was still catching her breath, one hand braced against her side where she’d likely cracked a rib or two.

  She raised her free hand and Alexander sent a gust of wind to pin it back against the beam above her.

  “Only a few remain, sire,” Halvar called out.

  “Hurry up, Alex, we need to get the hell out of here.” Jo. Alexander chanced a look over his shoulder to check on his friends, his focus shifting for a moment, but a flash of orange caught his eye and he turned back just in time to deflect a fireball hurtling towards him.

  “Alexander, we will need to leave the moment all of the witches are immobilised. You must hurry,” Hazel called out between breaths.

  He focused on Lorn. She’d stopped toying with him and was trying to use the full force of her flames, a hand still pressed against her side. “We could have been good together, you know. With our lineage. It would have been an impressive union—given that you’ve been holding out on me. On Ohinyan.” Flames erupted from her fingertips in a jet of orange and gold, and even with his air shield thrown up between them, Alexander could feel the heat.

  If she stepped away from the beam, he’d have an opening. “I don’t want to hurt you, Lorn, but I will if I have to.” A few of the spirits had flung themselves at her, but Lorn didn’t flinch.

  She threw her head back and laughed, both hands facing him. “I should have killed you long before Erebus could get his hands on you. All this dragging it out, these pathetic theatrics. I know you want to avenge your father’s death. So why don’t you go ahead and try?”

  The memory of his father dying at Lorn’s hands flashed before his eyes, and in that moment, he didn’t care if she lived or died. He drew his sword and used his magic to power his attack, driving him forwards, his free hand outstretched to swipe aside any of her flames.

  “Now, sire, we need to leave,” Halvar called out over the noise of the flames and the wind. The basement room was in chaos, detritus and dust and spirits spinning around them, but Alexander didn’t care, his attention was homed in on Lorn’s torso, on the spot where he was going to drive his sword right through her.

  At least, that’s what he wanted her to think. As he surged forwards and launched his attack, she stepped away from the beam to focus on disarming him. His sword glowed cherry red and he flung it away from him as she cackled. But it didn’t matter, because it had given him the few seconds he needed to get her into p
osition. He threw his hands up, calling the air to him in a spiral and slamming her back through column after column until the balcony above crashed down on her with a deafening sound and a bellow of dust and dirt.

  No one could have survived that. Only then did he turn his back on her, taking in the sight of the dead bodies strewn across the floor. None were angels. “Halvar, lead the angels and spirits to the heath near the cemetery—Jo, Hazel, I’ll escort you. Go.”

  Alexander instinctively threw up a wall of air to shield them from any attacks from behind, but already he could feel his magic faltering. Exhaustion rippled through his limbs and he knew it would take time to recover.

  He followed Jo and Hazel into the alley as one by one the angels and spirits leapt into the air. He caught a look between Halvar and Jo before his friend pushed off to lead them to the heath.

  Hazel was limping, he realised, and Jo had one arm around the witch to steady her. Jo didn’t look so good either.

  “Let me help you, at least until you get to some transport. Is your vehicle nearby?” He directed his question to Jo as he balanced Hazel’s weight against him.

  “My vehicle?” Jo scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cos the first thing I thought when those bloody witches kidnapped us was, oh yeah, better make sure I’ve parked my car somewhere useful.”

  “A no would have been sufficient.”

  “We’ll take the bus. Here. You fly on ahead.” Jo steered them towards a metal pole beside the road with a white sign attached to it as one of the red buses approached.

  “Halvar would never forgive me. I’ll be on the roof.” Alexander didn’t wait for a response; he didn’t think he could. He flew, or more fell onto the roof, steadying himself as best as he could as it pulled away.

  He looked back to check they hadn’t been followed and silently chastised himself for letting his exhaustion get the better of his leadership. He’d seen no dead angels—but there hadn’t been time for a headcount, or time to see if he recognised any of the faces. Who knew what torture they’d been subjected to in his absence. In your absence when you fled without them and left them to die. At least Erebus hadn’t returned. At least that part had gone to plan—and still, Alexander felt guilty for the thought, because if Erebus wasn’t here, on Earth, he was in Ohinyan, with Fia. How would she protect herself against his powers?