“And you did, didn’t you?” Mirela asked. Her soft brown eyes looked hard in the harsh sunlight that streamed through the house’s only window.
“Yes.” Nadya took a step toward her. “Yes, I did. No one else could.”
“So you killed him.”
Those words caught Nadya off balance. Her limbs froze. “What?”
“I heard that Gedeon the Chaos-maker died on the solstice. By the hand of the Iron Phoenix.”
“I had to. There was no choice.”
“There is always a choice. I thought we taught you that.”
Anger blossomed so suddenly in her chest that it burst through everything she tried to keep contained. “Taught me? You taught me to keep secrets, to fear what I am. You and Grandmother and all the Elders would have killed me, banished me, if I ever slipped up. You taught me to fear those I love.”
She sucked in a breath, but her lungs still screamed for air. “I did kill Gedeon. He could not be contained. He would have kept killing because he liked it. He wanted to see the city in flames, and no one else could have stopped him. So I did.”
“That was not your call to make.” Mirela, to her credit, did not flinch at Nadya’s outburst.
“Then whose? The Elders’? The Duke’s?” The tears came, angry tears that she did not bother to wipe away. “You weren’t there. You did not smell the blood or the ash. See the bodies that his war on Storm’s Quarry had already claimed. I stood in the middle of it, and there was one choice: his life for the future of the city.”
Her voice quieted as all her energy dissipated, leaving her exhausted. “I did not ask for this, Mama. I always wanted to just be a good daughter. I never wanted to be this. But I am, so I’ve done what I can for the city.”
Mirela looked at her, looked through her, and Nadya’s throat closed. Her mother didn’t know her; her eyes held nothing but the wariness of a stranger, the fear of one confronting a nivasi.
“I cannot agree.”
Those words shattered her. Nadya staggered back. Vomit rose in her throat as her stomach tried to rebel against the cold expression on Mirela’s face.
“I have kept this a secret. Your blood. The training sessions. Your father convinced me of that, though I am not sure it’s what is best for our people. But listen. You are no longer a Gabori. You no longer have a place in this house. I know what the nivasi are capable of, and I will not let madness foster itself in my home.”
Nadya could not breathe. “But Papa said…”
“Your father is not the head of this family. He does not understand the choices that come with that position.” The calm of her voice cracked at the last words, and Mirela turned away. “Leave.”
“Mama…Mama, please…” Nadya reached out. Tears poured out of her eyes; her chest shook.
“I said leave. Let your father know that what is between us has been settled.” Mirela poured tea and clutched the cup, fingers shaking.
Out of grief, or fear? Nadya wondered as she stared at the profile of the woman who was once her mother. Fear, most likely. I am nivasi, and I was a fool to think a Nomori could ignore it. She walked out of the house as if in a dream, barely feeling the connection her feet made with the ground. Her father had always been quick to throw away Nomori custom. Until today, she’d believed her mother was the same. She had, after all, thrown away the strict Nomori tradition of women marrying men when Nadya confessed her feelings for Kesali.
Nivasi blood was one step too far, it seemed.
Mama…Nadya stumbled. People dodged her flailing limbs. She blinked. She was standing in the middle of the second tier, no idea how she got there.
Her little shack was not far. Her Natsia, she thought, as tears gave way to a hollowness that no amount of sunlight would ever fill. The road of the nivasi led here, and only here. To isolation.
*
As night grew older and the winds blew across the roof, riffling loose shingles, Nadya closed her eyes and listened. The roof she perched on radiated coolness and smelled of mildew. She ignored the discomfort. Across the street, she watched the building that had once been her home and wiped at the trails of salt on her cheeks. Her tears had dried up with the moonrise. Now she sat and watched and tried to pretend that nothing had changed.
Something had drawn her back here once she had regained her mind, a desire to tear further at the new wound, no doubt. But in her little hovel on the second tier, Nadya felt only numb. Here, at least, she felt something, even if it was pain.
“Wow, that’s a nice place. Better than the shack you are living in.”
The loud whisper shattered the stillness. Nadya gasped and shot up, nearly losing her footing on the shingles.
Sitting on the edge of the rooftop, kicking her feet, Shay winced. “Careful. You all right?”
Nadya stared. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse.
“I followed you.” Shay shrugged. She wore her customary thin black armor and black eye paint.
“You’re…quiet,” Nadya said. Even though she had not been focused, she was impressed that Shay had managed to sneak onto the rooftop without alerting her at all.
“Yep.” Shay looked to the Gabori house. “I remember that place. We spent many afternoons there because your mother did not mind the shrieking girls running amok in her house.”
“But what are you doing here now?” Nadya wiped at her face again, hoping the night hid the puffiness of her eyes.
Shay rolled her eyes. “Relax. I’m here because we are going out.”
“Out.” Nadya frowned. “Out where? And since when is there a we? You tried to kill me the last time we fought.”
“Bygones.” Shay waved a hand. “Now, come on. You have your cloak, don’t you?”
She did. She had brought it here, some anchor to the life that was now hers. Now that Nadya Gabori was no more. “I don’t think going out tonight is a good idea.”
“Come on, you know you want to.” Shay’s voice lost its edge, and she put a hand on Nadya’s shoulder. Warmth radiated from her touch. “I understand. I’m probably the only one in the city who does. This will make you feel better, I promise. It works for me.”
Nadya looked at her. She was telling the truth, in that at least. This was a bad idea, and she knew she shouldn’t trust Shay. She did not know anything about the woman Shay had grown into, except that she was well-trained and dangerous.
Her limbs thrummed at the thought of tasting the night air. True, Kesali had not asked her to go out again, not since Nadya left so suddenly the previous night. But after what happened with her mother that afternoon, her body ached to push itself, to run and jump and work out everything that her mind could not.
Better to keep an eye on Shay, Nadya thought, and threw her cloak over her shoulders. Her father had warned her to be vigilant, after all. A good enough reason to go out, to fulfill her sudden need to take Shay’s offer.
Shay smiled. “See, you look better already. Come on.”
Nadya stood for a moment, just watching her. The wind whipped her short hair around her head, but instead of looking messy, it added an air of ferocity to her powerful figure. Shay was not beautiful, not in the way Kesali was, or the ladies of the fourth tier. But she was intense, powerful.
Shay gestured to the space between her house and the next. “After you. You are out of practice, after all.”
Nadya snorted, some of the weight dropping from her chest. “Like you could keep up if I went first. Give me a moment.”
She tied her cloak tighter, adjusting it around her throat. Floor length, hooded with a mask that stretched across her lower face. The gray color of new ashes, with a sheen of fireproofing. When Nadya, wearing the cloak, had rescued guardsmen from an explosion at their headquarters, onlookers said she looked like a phoenix rising out of the forge. Thus the Iron Phoenix was born.
She fastened the cloak around her neck, then brought the hood up and fastened on the mask.
When she turned around, s
he was not Nadya Gabori the Nomori. She was the Iron Phoenix, and her heart pounded with excitement. It had been too long since she was out in the city, and with Shadar’s cautions tucked away in the back of her mind, she was ready.
“Done dressing up?” Shay asked with a smirk.
Nadya glared at her playfully. “Go on. This is your idea, crazy as it is. Do you even know where—”
“Wherever the winds of justice take us,” Shay said, cutting her off with a smile.
“The winds of—That is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard.” Nadya crossed her arms. “If you do not have a plan, then I’m not about to—”
Shay leapt off the rooftop.
“Damn you.” Nadya peered over the side. “Shay?”
A black-clad figure shot up, swinging over the gutter of the adjoining building.
“Shouting my name across rooftops is a little too casual, isn’t it?” Shay called from the next rooftop. “Maybe I need a nickname too. Have I been here long enough to earn one? How long did it take you to get the whole city to start calling you the Iron Phoenix?”
Ignoring her, Nadya launched herself in the air. For a moment, the wind carried her and she forgot the events of the day. She crossed the gap easily in one leap, landing with a thump. Bits of loose debris shuddered. “How did you do that?”
“A lot quieter than you. It is not about how strong you are, but how you use your strength.” Shay shrugged. “Something my teacher used to say.”
“Yeah, mine too.” Nadya’s voice wavered, growing thick with unshed tears. How would Shadar react to her mother’s words? Would he still train her, now that she was no longer a Gabori?
“I won’t lie to you.” Shay took a deep breath. “It never stops hurting. But you learn to live with the pain.” Her expression suddenly changed, and she grinned. “Now we have a city to save. And I am serious about getting a name, Iron Phoenix,” she added, her voice dripping in fake esteem. She took off running.
Nadya swore. “I will give you a name, but you won’t like it.” She chased after Shay, spirits considerably lighter than before her old friend showed up.
Catching her new partner, as it would seem, was easy enough. Even with her skill, Shay had none of Nadya’s enhanced speed, a fact which she complained about several times on their way through the Nomori tier.
Nadya’s boots slammed into rooftops, knocking loose tiles and bricks. She flew across alleys. Here, control did not matter. The wind and the air and the stars could take anything she threw at the them. Cloak whipping around her, wind running through her braid, Nadya felt…
Alive.
Training with Shadar was important, yes, but until this moment, running through the city beside Shay, she had been as stagnant as the floodwaters. Now, she ran and leapt and lived.
Protectress, I’ve missed this.
Only once did Shay lose her carefree expression. It melted away so fast that Nadya was sure she’d spotted trouble. But as Nadya swept the area, she saw nothing. But Shay did. Her eyes went hard, her stance rigid. Emotions rippled across her face. At her side, her right hand clenched and unclenched, and bits of orange flame flickered on and off.
Nadya looked to where she stared. A Nomori house, no different from the ones on either way. It took a moment, but she remembered she had been there before. The last time was ten years ago when young Nadya knocked and a woman answered, denying the existence of a daughter named Shay.
Nadya did not know what to say. She imagined that she had worn that same expression only just beforehand. She tugged on Shay’s sleeve, using enough strength to force her to look away. Underneath her armor, she was shaking. “Come on. We should go.”
“Yeah.” Shay turned without another word. “Like I said, I understand.”
They looked at one another for a moment, the force between their gazes almost palatable. Something passed between them, something Nadya had no words for, except that she knew, whether or not she could trust Shay, she was not alone.
She needed that, today more than ever.
They continued their patrol, seeing nothing more than a few drunkards stumbling around, Erevans from the second tier who took a wrong turn and ended up down here. Nothing that brought the level of emotion to Shay’s face as seeing her childhood home. Her mask had returned. Now she was all smiles and quips, no doubt trying to lift Nadya’s spirits, but now Nadya knew her levity was a mask. She could not help but believe that whatever Shay’s purpose in coming to Storm’s Quarry, her family must play a role in it.
Shay whistled as Nadya took a twenty-pace gap between a storefront and its neighbor in one, clean leap. The rushing wind put all her worrying thoughts away. Shay had been right; she missed this. Once, not too long ago, she had taken to the rooftops of Storm’s Quarry nearly every night, never looking for trouble beyond the next physical challenge. Even without putting a couple of criminals in their place, she felt alive up here.
In contrast to Nadya’s smooth jump, Shay jumped, twisting. She hit the cobblestones, then let her momentum carry her across the street and up the wall to where Nadya waited. “You should teach me that leap.”
“Once you give me the recipe for indestructible blades.”
“Makes you wonder what all the others could do, the ones who didn’t make it. Call down lightning or heal with a touch, or something else.”
Nadya had never thought about it. “I guess. I came face to face with another nivasi more than once, and the experience was less than pleasant.”
“Ah, Gedeon. No wonder you’re so skittish around me. Afraid I’ll turn out to be just like him?”
Something like that. “Don’t know what you mean.”
Shay laughed. “For someone with such a secret, you are a terrible liar. Just to make things clear, I am not Gedeon. I don’t plan on going mad and setting a torch to this place. So are we good on that score?”
“Depends. Are you going to tell me why you’re really here?”
“Maybe.” She started toward the building’s edge, but Nadya grabbed her arm. “Everything okay, or have you decided to pitch me over the side and have it all over with?”
Nadya frowned. “No.” She let go and held up a hand. “Quiet.” Just on the edge of her hearing range, a crash. Multiple crashes. She could not make out any voices, but the commotion seemed to be coming from the western side of the tier. Where a Guard station stood. “We’ve got some action.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“I have a trick or two that you don’t know,” she said with a smile, then leapt off the building. Her blood pounded as her heart sped up in anticipation. Protectress, she needed this.
Behind her, Shay cursed in a language she’d never heard and followed.
Chapter Nine
Nadya hit the ground first, scattering the would-be looters. Her cloak whirled around her. The looters’ faces showed recognition, but they didn’t back off. They knew who she was, and if not for the strong scent of drink in the air, she doubted they would be standing their ground. Shay appeared by her side a moment later, landing a touch more gracefully.
“No killing,” Nadya said through her mask. She blocked a clumsy punch, knocking the breath out of the drunken man.
“I’ll do my best,” Shay called back as she swept her blades through the arm of the nearest man. His hand fell to the ground. He grasped what remained of his arm, staring at the perfectly cauterized wound as the blood drained from his face in shock.
“Not what I meant,” Nadya grumbled, but she didn’t say anything further. With what had transpired between them earlier, she knew she could trust Shay at her back, despite the warning bells that sounded in the more logical parts of her mind. Trusting her not to kill needlessly, that was a different story.
Nadya caught herself watching Shay, how effortlessly she moved, spun, and dumped her opponents on their backs. Her limbs carried a grace that even the best Nomori men, innately gifted with fighting ability as they were, could not match. It was not just her body, howe
ver, that enraptured Nadya. Her eyes. They glittered with life as she fought, the joy plain on her face.
She reminded herself that Shay was an unknown, a dangerous nivasi for all she knew.
Except…except that she was a dangerous nivasi. Just like Nadya was. That did not make her the enemy, and even as Nadya told herself to keep her distance, to remember that she knew next to nothing of this girl, she could not help but trust her. Something connected them, something beyond words, beyond the compassion Shay had shown her tonight. The only reference point she had for this connection was the way she was drawn to Kesali.
But that comparison was too ridiculous for words. Kesali, though blinded by duty as often as inspired by it, always found the strength and compassion to rise above the world’s darkness, and Nadya loved her for it. Even in the midst of the fighting on the Blood Sun Solstice, Kesali had somehow remained above the carnage, untouched by the death that surrounded her. Shay, on the other hand, might be able to conquer fire from within, but she was a creature of the shadows. The two women existed an ocean apart, and yet Nadya could not shake the unwanted feelings that watching Shay stirred within her.
They easily dispatched the seven men and three women, Shay’s fire illuminating the sweat that dripped off their brows. The heat soothed Nadya’s muscles as she blocked a club, delivering a quick blow in return. She twisted around. Her nose stopped a hairsbreadth from Shay’s as Shay pushed an unconscious looter aside. Nadya swallowed, watching the ethereal flames that flickered against her neck. Her fingers scratched at her own throat, smearing blood along her collarbone. The air of the Nomori tier grew thicker as she struggled momentarily to breathe.
Then Shay winked and turned, driving her elbow into the stomach of another looter. It broke the spell. Nadya shook herself, lightheaded, and rejoined the fight. Mere moments later, their opponents slumped on the ground unconscious, with one lost hand, a few broken ribs, and several stab wounds between them. When they did awaken, it would be with mighty headaches, from the fight and the drink. Nadya frowned as she looked over their adversaries, stretched unconscious in heaps on the road.
Phoenix Rising Page 10
