Phoenix Rising

by Rebecca Harwell

  Is that why you came to me, why your arms are wrapped around me instead of the Stormspeaker?

  “And I could incinerate you. We are not good for one another.”

  Nadya pulled away to look up at her. “You are right.”

  “Always. But danger makes it exciting, yes?” Shay stole another kiss. She could have spent all night standing there together, sharing soft touches. The tension in Nadya’s shoulders had only eased slightly, and kissing would not rescue her beloved city.

  Save the city, get the girl. Simple enough, Shay thought with a knowing smile.

  “You needed my help,” she reminded Nadya, tracing the edge of her face with forge-callused fingers.

  “Right.” Nadya looked around, a bit dazed. “Right. We need to break into a Cressian stronghold and steal some compound.”

  “Just that? Surely you do not need my help, O Iron Phoenix,” Shay teased.

  Something flickered across Nadya’s face, but then she smiled. It did not break the worry lines that Wintercress had etched into her skin, but it softened them. “Perhaps I just wanted your company,” she returned, and a tingling warmth spread in Shay’s chest.

  “I am excellent company.” Stars, she had it bad, didn’t she? The banter, the kissing, it was just too easy with Nadya. All of Shay’s better instincts, the ones honed from years of traveling alongside rough soldiers and handsome youths fresh out of their towns, told her to cut it off. Nadya Gabori was everything she did not need: a Nomori tied to the city, already in love with someone she could not have.

  And that had been made abundantly clear this morning, with the Stormspeaker’s possessive glances and Nadya’s own calf-eyed looks. They were besotted, though walking on glass for some reason—two pints says it’s her nivasi nature—and had been for a long time. Kisses or not, Shay did not have a chance. Better to accept it now.

  Another time she would fall apart over such a realization, but not tonight. “I’ll just be a moment. I am assuming you want us both in costume.” She headed toward her bunk as Nadya muttered behind her, “It is not a costume.”

  “Not anymore. Your armor’s under the bench.”

  *

  “We have the damned blessing of the Duke. Why are you skulking about like a rat with a bit of dead fish?”

  Nadya grimaced at the image. She turned back, edging away from the corner of the alley she had been peering around. “Because, Shay, the Duke did not exactly announce that he was working with a known vigilante and suspected mass murderer. The Captain of the Guard cleared our way as much as possible. The rest is up to us.”

  Shay crossed her arms. “Your father could have at least gotten them a round of mead. Lighten ’em up a bit.”

  “My father is as likely to buy a round of mead for his men as he is to sprout wings and fly us across the sea.”

  “That’d certainly be quicker than what you’re doing.”

  Nadya made a face. She listened as the footsteps of two patrolling guardsmen passed them by. The Duke’s Guard, no less susceptible to the scouring sickness than any inhabitant of Storm’s Quarry, had pulled back on its presence within the lower tiers. The guardsmen’s retreat paved the way for more crime, at least among those who could still walk steadily on two legs, and it provided an easy passage for two nivasi to the main gate.

  Something Shay was quick to point out. “We are nearly there, Nadya. Do I need to remind you that we need to make it to the stronghold, our way through stars know what, and get back by dawn?”

  “No, but keeping your quips to yourself would be great.” She flashed Shay a quick smile, and Shay rolled her eyes. The dark face paint she wore highlighted every change of expression, giving her an almost theatrical appearance.

  Nadya wondered how much of her cloak Shay would set ablaze if she voiced that particular observation.

  Maybe none, considering it might ruin her mentor’s handiwork.

  Nadya ran a hand over her chest absentmindedly. Her fingers explored the sheer grooves of the breastplate. It was light, only a hair thicker than a woolen tunic, and it fit snuggly. At her waist, the plate was met by an equally light pair of breeches. Its color could not settle, but shifted between different shades of deep gray. On her shoulders, her cloak fastened onto the armor, sweeping around her to create a truly fearsome silhouette.

  Shay had whistled when Nadya finished putting the pieces on, and her pleased smile had not quite left her.

  “May I at least point out,” Shay said, “without quipping, that we are near the main gate. I say we run for it. They cannot stop us.”

  “And when we come back to the full strength of the Duke’s Guard barring our entrance to the city?” Nadya gauged the distance between the figures patrolling along the top of the great wall. The scaffolding that bridged the gaping hole in the wall creaked as two guardsmen tread across it. “Have you some great desire to swim the Kyanite and enter through the sewers?”

  “Stars, no. All right, Phoenix, do it your way. Just let me know when you need anything incinerated.” When Nadya threw her a look, Shay leaned against the alley wall. “Joking, of course. Unless that Councillor herself is up there. Then, I make no promises.”

  “Thought I told you about the quips,” Nadya said, turning back to watch the progress of the guardsmen. Close, now.

  “Maybe it wasn’t.”

  She did not wish to think of the implication of that.

  The patrols moved just out of sight, prompting her to swallow an apology and instead say, “Let’s go.”

  “Right behind you.”

  Her ears heated at that statement, for no particular reason Nadya could fathom except that she knew it to be true. She had shown up in the middle of the night, cloaked and ready for battle, and asked Shay to join her. Any sane person would have said no. And yet, here Shay was, following stealthily behind her as she made her way across the empty courtyard to the main gate. Guilt churned in her chest. Maybe she would not have to call upon that final card, the one that would make Shay regret ever trusting her.

  Locked from the inside with a collection of iron bars and gears that lifted and lowered them, the main gate of Storm’s Quarry was its fiercest defense from the Great Storms that plagued the island. Not even Nadya, with all her strength, could shove those doors open.

  She could, however, scurry up the gate’s hinges, swinging from one handhold to another, snapping the iron bars as she passed them. Those she could not reach, Shay melted with a concentrated beam of fire that lit up the area.

  Shouts echoed from the Guard posts on either side, but the two nivasi had already dashed through the narrow opening Nadya had made and out across the Kyanite Sea.

  No one would pursue them, not with the Guard stretched so thin. Hopefully, their exit was quiet enough not to warrant an army’s welcome upon their return.

  Halfway down the bridge, Shay staggered to a stop. Nadya glanced behind her to see her companion bent in two, hands on her calves, chest heaving.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She looked to the wall of Storm’s Quarry, distance giving them a bit of a buffer, but not much.

  “Stars, Nadya, not all of us have a steam pump for a heart.” Shay stumbled up beside her. “Just because you can outrun a horse does not mean it’s a general nivasi thing.”

  “Not sure I could.” Nadya paused. “Outrun a horse, I mean. But we do need to move quickly.” She frowned, looking Shay up and down. Taller than her, but she’d done it before…

  “No, oh no, no, no.” Shay crossed her arms. “You are not carrying me there. Just give me a moment to not be sprinting, and I can keep going.”

  Nadya glanced up at the sliver of the moon where it hung in the middle of sky. Dawn was hours away, and still they had much to do. “At least take my hand.”

  “Most girls would offer flowers first,” Shay said, grasping Nadya’s hand in her own.

  “I think we’ve moved beyond flowers. Besides, the Nomori thing to do would be to bring nut bread, not flowers.”


  The dark look that flashed across Shay’s painted features made her instantly regret her words. Her words had ruined the casual flirting, though Nadya could not help but think they pointed to something deeper, a wall between them that could turn out to be as insurmountable as the one built between her and Kesali.

  Not the time, Nadya. Save Storm’s Quarry, and then figure out this mess. Especially given what you might have to ask of her.

  Nadya swallowed. “Let me help you.”

  “I’m no child in need of being—” Shay’s voiced vanished as Nadya tightened her grip and took off, dragging her along.

  Slower than she was capable of, but much faster than Shay had ever run, she guessed, they sped across the remainder of the bridge. Her boots hit the soft marshland hard. Nadya did not stop. Shay, her other arm cartwheeling in an attempt at stability, huffed beside her. She did not resist, however, when Nadya turned them sharply toward the ominous tower that rose beyond some marsh trees in the distance.

  The Cressian stronghold of Eagle’s Reach, ostensibly a trade outpost, though as guarded as a military fort, was built of dark stone. This place was the dark shadow of Storm’s Quarry. Where her island city was all soft curves and pale stone, this stronghold rose in sharp angles, its studded granite bones sucking in the starlight rather than reflecting it. The highest tower, spiked with iron and hewn edges, rose sixty paces in the air at least. At the wider base of the stronghold, a wooden gate stood guarded by four soldiers in crisp white uniforms.

  “We don’t have to be quiet anymore, do we?” Shay asked between gasping breaths. “And do not think I’ve forgiven you for that. I will get you back.” A bit of mirth had returned to her voice, however, and Nadya’s heart lightened.

  “I look forward to your revenge. Dawn will come quickly. Let’s get the compound.” She pointed to the tower. “Up there. It’s the best location to keep something well-guarded. We just need to reach it.”

  “Got it. Get in, get the compound, and make as much noise as possible in the process.”

  The two nivasi looked at one another. Shay winked at her before charging the front gate and the soldiers stationed there with blades alight. Nadya shook her head. She did not hesitate to join Shay, however, letting out a whoop of her own in the face of the Cressian army.

  *

  “Well, this turned out to be easy enough,” Shay said, and Nadya had to agree with her. They cleared the first floor of the stronghold without a single causality nor alarm bell. Perhaps this one thing, in the midst of all that plagued Storm’s Quarry, would go well.

  There are secrets that Wintercress holds as dangerous as any nivasi.

  The echoes of Shadar’s caution came too late.

  On the third level, after passing through corridors and rooms with nothing guarding them but simple wooden beams and iron locks, Nadya arrived at an empty room with one door leading off of it. This was the way to the tower, she knew. Nothing else rose up this high. Behind her, Shay dealt with the final soldiers, melting the metal doorframe of the closet Nadya had thrown them in.

  “As few casualties as possible,” she had said. “These might be Cressians, but they are people first, enemies second.”

  Shay hadn’t argued at all. Instead, she said quietly, “You do not need to remind me not to be a killer, Nadya.”

  All the retorts Nadya had prepared fell back into her throat.

  Now, she stepped forward into the room and frowned. It smelled odd, like someone had hidden old eggs and fish under the floorboards. She wrinkled her nose, trying to place the scent when the first hissing began.

  Greenish yellow gas poured into the room as vents all around the top opened with a tiny creak.

  “Nadya, get out of there,” Shay yelled, but before she could reach the room, what had been an open threshold slammed down. A wall of stone slid into place with a click, and now Nadya was trapped.

  Outside, Shay’s shouts turned to curses then faded altogether.

  Nadya coughed. She pawed at the edges of her eyes, trying to rid them of the stinging sensation. The dim light of the room revealed little, only that it was bare of both furnishings and dust. The gas gave the stonework an eerie glow. She scratched at her throat.

  Get out, you fool! Break through the wall, her mind screamed, but her legs were already collapsing underneath her.

  Nadya tried to roll over, but a great weight settled on her chest. Her exposed skin burned as the gas burrowed into her pores, seeping into every crevice. She gasped but only gas entered her lungs.

  She lunged upward once, twice. Black dots spotted her vision. Her mouth spasmed as it tried to bite a clear breath out of the tainted air.

  Somewhere, up through the vents, a faint laughing reached her ears. Then, Nadya’s vision slipped, and she fell toward darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Last time, when darkness had slowly consumed Nadya’s vision, it tore into her, forcing itself through her chest, her limbs, remaking her into something that was less than human. She had struggled then, fighting against Gedeon’s will with everything she had, finally relying on prayer alone to break through.

  Now, pain scorching her chest numb, her eyes fluttered. She was tired, so tired. Dark splotches gained substance and girth, overwhelming the dim lanterns in the room and the slim figure that suddenly appeared above her.

  “Nadya, dammit, come back to me!” The words were faint, barely able to burrow through the thickness that enveloped Nadya’s mind.

  Let me sleep.

  The struggle for breath had become exhausting, draining her resolve away. She stopped. It was so easy to not breathe, to not resist the poison that seeped into the deep tissue of her lungs and made its home there.

  “You are stronger than this. Fight it!”

  Not even the frantic voice above her could anchor her to this room, with its spinning valves and deadly pumps. Any thoughts of Storm’s Quarry and Wintercress drifted back into the darkness of her consciousness, and she swam with them. To sleep and sleep, for a thousand years and more…

  “Forgive me, but this is going to hurt. You’ll thank me, though. Maybe. Either that, or tear my arms off.”

  So cool, so quiet…Nadya felt herself detach from the last bits of the stronghold tower. Just sleep…

  Fire erupted within her chest. Her eyes sprang open, and she tried to scream. Her voice was swallowed by the greedy flames that crawled up and down her throat. Smoke leaked out between her teeth. Nadya could not breathe, could not think. The cool darkness had snapped back, and now there was only pain, raw and hungry.

  Her hands scrabbled at empty air, clawing for an edge to grasp, to pull herself up.

  Red spurted along her vision. She arched her back up, mouth open in silent agony.

  Cool fingers clasped her wrist. “Nadya, Nadya, it’s me. Trust me, just let—”

  She grabbed the hand, pulling it down toward her. Her grip moved, searching, until she held whatever demon had attacked her by its throat.

  “Stars, Nadya, let me save you!”

  Shay’s voice.

  Nadya dropped back down, letting go. In that instant, as quickly as it had come, the pain faded to nearly nothing, leaving only a strong unscratchable itch deep in her throat. She opened her mouth. She could breathe.

  The air was sticky and hot, thick with the aftermath of the Cressian gas weapon. Scents of blood and burned hair and rotten eggs hung around them.

  Nadya had never tasted air so sweet.

  Shay was sprawled out a few paces from her, rubbing at her collarbone. “I suppose it could’ve been worse. You could have torn my head off.”

  “What…happened?” Her voice rasped and cracked, and Nadya winced.

  “Me saving your life. Nothing new.” Shay scooted toward her. Though her mouth had already settled into its customary smirk, she could not hide the concern in her eyes as she looked Nadya over. “You barged in here and triggered the smoke trap, remember?”

  “How did you survive it?” Nadya sat up, Shay�
��s hands guiding her.

  “Not everything is overcome with muscle alone.”

  “Yeah, I’m beginning to realize that.”

  Shay thumped her on the shoulder. “Good. I’m glad it only took nearly dying to make that lesson stick. I heard the main door seal shut behind you, so I looked for another way in—through the ductwork. The entire space was filled with fumes, like the room. I burned the poison from the air around me to keep from suffocating same as you. Found you on the floor, not breathing. That stuff was inside you, poisoning you. So I burned it out.”

  Nadya stared at her. “Burned it out. Of my lungs.”

  “I did warn you that it would hurt beforehand. I kept control, and you heal fast enough that whatever damage I had to do to get the poison out should be gone soon.” She reached up, hesitated, then pushed the stray locks that had escaped Nadya’s braid back behind her ear.

  Nadya leaned in to the touch. “You did it. Saved me, I mean.”

  “Surprised?”

  “Yes, I mean no, I just—you have so much control.” And so much power. To burn someone from within—it rivaled the most incredible feats of strength Nadya could call upon.

  “I guess we nivasi are capable of it.”

  An odd tingling rose in Nadya’s chest as she accepted Shay’s hand to help her stand. “I guess so.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Have to.” She stumbled over to the room’s singular door and wrenched it open, snapped its iron lock.

  “Glad to see poison and fire don’t get you down for too long.” Shay caught up with her, then pushed ahead. “Let me go first, though. I’m not charbroiled on the inside.”

  Nadya relented, falling in step with her. “Just be careful.”

  “We locked up the soldiers. You triggered the death trap. I think we’ll be okay.”

  The stairs wound up and around, dangerously steep and with limited sight lines. Shay’s step was cautious, and Nadya followed her. She kept her ears sharp for the slightest sound of vents clicking open. Her chest burned, and her throat felt like someone had taken a meat grinder to it.