She shook her hands at us, and we scattered to obey.
My heart was heavy as a rock in my chest as I stumbled into the kitchen, nearly bumping into Mally.
“Don’t look so sad, Sersha,” she said but even as she teased me, her mouth twisted bitterly, and she wrung her hands as she looked at the ruined kitchen. “Your patient’s pretty, but not pretty enough to die for.”
My mouth fell open.
And not because of her callous jest.
I hadn’t realized it until just this moment, but now it was pretty clear why that constellation on the back of the medallion had looked so familiar. It was the exact same shape as the birthmarks on Mally’s cheek – like a triangle with a curving tail.
I knew what the Ai’sletta really was ... or rather who.
She was my cousin.
Chapter Eleven
I was still gasping like a fish pulled from the deep as I made the feverfew tea, nearly slamming into Mally as I took it off the hearth.
“Watch it, Sersha!” she said, teeth gritted in annoyance. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.
I gaped at her. I’d nearly burned the Ai’sletta, whatever that was.
I shut my mouth with a click and hurried past her to our room where Judicus had been set back on Mally’s bed.
He moaned, his body twitching as he did. I hurried over to check him. He was feverish, and he’d been that way for far too long and whatever strength he’d used to fight for our town had taken its toll. He needed this fever to break.
Carefully, I eased his head up and his eyes flickered open a little. This was a time when it would be nice to speak, to tell him that he needed to sit up and drink. Instead, I tested the tea, being sure it wasn’t too hot, and then brought it to his lips, tipping it into his mouth as he spluttered and coughed between swallows.
It took a while to get enough down to help him and I wasn’t even sure if he was conscious until I laid his head on the pillow and he began to mutter.
“Comes to a close. It all ends. All, all, all.”
He wasn’t wrong. On the other side of the wall, the townspeople were planning his betrayal.
My mouth formed a firm line. There had to be another way. There just had to be.
I refused to give up on that yet.
I checked his wound as he kept muttering incoherently. The swelling had gone down, and it smelled fine. I frowned. What was his fever from if not the wound?
I changed the dressing, and his words formed a sentence again.
“Find the Ai’sletta. She’s our only hope. Save us all.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. The only hope to save us all? My flirtatious cousin Mally?
That seemed ... unlikely. Maybe I’d read her birthmark wrong.
I fished out the silver disk and the scrap of parchment, looking at the symbol drawn on the smeared surface and then I compared it to the medallion. They were exactly like her cluster of birthmarks. Exactly.
I swallowed and looked again at the mirror. And this time, with no one dying beside me, I ignored Mynta’s advice and really looked.
I’d never seen my own face before. I looked quite grim. But that was mostly because I wasn’t sure we’d live through the night.
My eyes were startlingly bright and large. The rest of my face was plain enough – my nose was straight without the saucy upturn of Mally’s. In fact, my face actually didn’t look much like my cousin’s. There was a ghost of resemblance to Aunt Danna in the determined set of my mouth, but that was all. Mynta was right. There was no blessing to a woman in knowing what she looked like. I was wasting time looking at my own face.
I put the mirror away. It was as useless as the note. Even if I – and I alone – knew what Mally was, who did it benefit? We would not give her to the raiders. Not even in return for sparing the rest of the town. It might save Judicus from being traded to them – but I doubted that. My aunt was the one pushing to have us trade his life four ours, and she would only be more determined if she thought it would save Mally from a similar fate.
It wasn’t hard for someone like me not to utter a word – and that was exactly what I’d do about this.
But as I drew the blanket up over Judicus’ chest, I realized I didn’t want him to die, either. I didn’t know much about him except that he was willing to fight for the sake of strangers. He hadn’t ordered me to help him out of the inn so he could flee. And he hadn’t used what magic he had to get away. He’d used it to fight for us. A man like that didn’t deserve to be handed to his enemies.
And he was barely older than me, his smooth cheeks nearly beardless. Did he have a mother like Aunt Danna out there somewhere worried about him?
His eyes popped open and he grabbed my collar.
I gasped at the intensity in his eyes.
“Where am I?” His hand shook.
I shook my head. This part was always the hardest. When people didn’t know. When they made wrong guesses about why I wouldn’t talk to them.
“Answer me!”
I lifted my hands in a pacifying gesture and pointed to his wound.
“A Calicarn sword,” he muttered. “Where is ... the elf I was traveling with. Is she here?”
I shook my head.
He collapsed back onto the bed, releasing my collar.
“I can’t die yet. Can’t die yet.” His eyes found mine and there was so much vulnerability in their depths that I took a step forward, hardly thinking about it. “I need your help. Please, help me.”
I nodded my agreement. I was trying to help. I just didn’t know how to do it.
I opened my mouth, but I knew no sound would come out. Instead, tears of frustration leaked from the sides of my eyes. The world was not made for people who listened more than they spoke.
“Voiceless,” he gasped, understanding dawning on his face. “A secret keeper. If we live through this and you help me, you can be my secret keeper.”
What was a secret keeper? I bathed his head with cool water, and he sunk back into sleep seeming content with that. But my stomach was roiling with nerves.
There had to be a way to save everyone – him and the town. I’d failed the woman with him, and I’d failed the phoenix. I didn’t want to fail anyone else.
If only I’d had the ashes tonight instead of last night, maybe the phoenix could have helped. But he had died with the dawn.
My heart lurched in bitter pain at the thought. If something as magnificent as that fiery bird could die so easily, what did that mean for someone plain and ordinary like me?
I reached a hand into my pocket, stroking the remnants of ash in my pocket as if they were the feathers of the glorious bird who had lived only hours ago.
Opening the shutter, I looked out into the last rays of the sunset and thought about how sad it was that I’d only met Kazmerev hours before he was gone. And now, I would likely die tonight. Neither of us would make much of a mark with our passing.
The last light of the sun faded as darkness descended and with it fear. The raiders would come. And we weren’t ready for them – not to fight, not to run, and I was not ready to offer up an innocent man to keep us safe.
Little Hawk?
I gasped at the voice in my heart. But he was dead. I had watched him die. There was muffled laughter in my mind.
Do you not know how phoenixes work, little hawk? We die each dawn, and then as dark descends, we rise. Up from the ashes. Up from the depths! Up from despair, we rise!
But there was no sign of him in my hands. No small bird. No egg.
I’m far too large for that now. Look up.
I craned my head out the window and looked up, gasping at what I saw. Kazmerev drifted down from the roof of the inn and landed in front of me in the stable yard. His feathers – flame-lined and brilliant – burned into my sight. I’d never seen something so gloriously beautiful before. He was like the sunset itself.
Only the sunset? I was certain I was prettier than that.
Like the dawn, to
o.
Oh. That’s disappointing. I’d hoped I put them both to shame.
He put them both to shame.
Now, that’s better.
I couldn’t help the smile turning the corners of my lips up. I’d thought the world was darkness. I hadn’t realized that light might appear.
There was still a hint of sadness to his mental voice, and yet there was also a feeling of tentative reaching, as if he were trying to coax me out.
Do not doubt, little hawk. We shall soar together – someday. Only give me a little time as I try to patch up my broken heart.
I would help him with that – if I could. I’d never lost anyone I’d known for a hundred years. But I had lost my parents and today I had lost a cousin. I knew that grief could strike at any time and leave you breathless all over again.
Perhaps a quick flight over the sea would help me breathe.
It would be hard to do with raiders outside our village perched on the edge of the sea.
Come out and join me, little hawk. My heart aches with mourning.
That was all he needed to say because my heart was aching, too.
Chapter Twelve
Come out of that stone building. It’s impossible to speak to you through rock and stone.
The frustration in his voice was endearing. Carefully, I slipped out of Judicus’ room and through the kitchen where Mally was finishing up the soup.
The darkness outside enveloped me, leaving me shivering as the cold air sucked the warmth from my body and the ground around me. I needed to be careful of raiders. They were here somewhere. They could be just steps away – and yet Kazmerev needed me. I could feel the ache of his heart. It was like a wound that needed binding up and the part of me that helped to heal couldn’t leave it alone to fester.
You ease the pain just by existing.
I felt a little shiver at that thought. I’d never meant that much to anyone before.
You hold my heart in yours, Flame Rider. A Phoenix cannot rise out of the ash unless he is connected to someone’s heart. Your tender heart raises me from the ashes.
I stepped through the stable yard and out to the back of the inn, and there he was in front of me in all his fiery glory. He was the size of a small horse. I bit my lip. Someone was going to see him.
Phoenixes are meant to be noticed.
And that would terrify the town folk.
Why? You are not terrified.
That’s because I’d seen him born. I’d seen him hatch from the egg and glow in front of my eyes. I’d felt him in my heart. I felt who he was, not just what he was – that he was aching with hurt but under that he was something genuine and good.
I felt you too, before I returned as your phoenix, I felt you.
Wait. My phoenix?
I told you – we can only rise from the heart of another.
Did he mean ... but no. I could feel the wash of sadness rushing over him like a wave. He did not mean that he would stay with me.
Not in the way that you mean.
My heart wasn’t sinking. Because that wouldn’t be fair.
I led him quietly through the stable yard to the darkness beyond. I’d never seen Landsfall so still before. Not a single candle glow marred the darkened street. Not a light burned beyond the flicker dancing in the windows of the Hog’s Head Inn. I saw that someone sat up in the thatch of the inn with a bow and a lantern, but he was facing the opposite way and didn’t seem to notice us slinking away into the night.
Which didn’t say much for the watch the town was keeping. I was leading a massive fiery bird, after all. It was hard to hide someone like that.
Perhaps now would be a good time to mention that only you can see me.
What?
I spun to look at him. He was following me, looking a little sheepish and a little like a songbird hopping along the ground in search of seeds.
It’s hard enough to be a fiery bird – bright and beautiful - but it’s even harder to be so reliant on someone else.
What did he mean? He hopped past me, past the bakery at the end of the street, and then fluttered to perch on the peak of the bakery’s roof.
I stood where I could see him up there. The thatch didn’t even sag. Was he ... not real? Was he a dream of mine?
He lifted his glorious flaming head, little ripples of fire dancing down his dark feathers, and then a song ripped from his mouth, keening sad and sweet.
He was mourning Veela again.
I wrapped my arms around my chest.
I could understand that. There was no limit on grief. There was no time that one must stop or move on.
But I was vulnerable here, out where anyone might attack at any time.
I was at risk and my whole town was at risk the longer I stayed out here because they would notice I was missing, and someone would grow worried and try to find me. If that happened, they would leave the safety of the stone-walled inn and be vulnerable.
I bit my lip.
I should go. Now.
But he was aching and hurting.
I couldn’t force him to mourn alone.
I let out a huff of anxiety and then steeled my nerve. I was his only friend still living. He needed me.
I strode to the wall of the bakery and grasped the window frame with care. It had been a long time since I’d climbed up onto the thatch anywhere. Not since I was a child helping to rethatch roofs in the spring.
I shook my head as my hands found their clumsy purchase and I scrambled up onto the roof, trying not to think about looking down, trying not to think about what the guards in the inn’s thatch would do if they saw me – would they shoot? – trying not to think about falling.
I shuffled carefully across the thatch until I was crouched beside him. And as he keened again, I reached out and stroked his fiery wing. I should have known he wasn’t real when the thatch didn’t light on fire.
I’m real.
I should have known he couldn’t stay when he vanished with the dawn.
I will not stay in this town – but neither will you. You see, it’s not that I will stay with you, Flame Rider, but rather that you will stay with me.
Wasn’t that the same thing?
Of course not. You are my anchor to this world. I am your wings. I will fly you into the unknown and you will keep me from going straight on up to join the stars in their cold dance.
I kept stroking him. He was grief-stricken. He didn’t know what he was saying. He’d already said he couldn’t stay.
I can’t. Phoenixes can’t stay in one place. It’s against our nature. But being one with our person in oath and life – that we can do. You will come with me when I leave this place, Sersha. You will stay with me.
With what money? With what clothing or food? The idea – while charming – was utterly impossible.
Nothing is impossible with me.
He was still singing his mourning song, but his thoughts were buoyant with hope. It felt almost addictive.
It has always been so for the Flame Rider. There are stashes. Places with supplies. Your needs will be met.
And what did I bring to this uneven partnership?
Everything. You make everything possible with the breath of your lungs and beating of your heart – until, someday – when you give my ash to another.
I felt in my pocket, not stopping the gentle stroking of his wing as I checked for his ash. A little burst of panic rose in my chest. It was gone.
Of course it is gone. I am living before you. It will return when I die with the dawn.
What if I lost it? I felt a sudden panic.
It doesn’t work that way. You can’t lose me now.
I swallowed uncomfortably. Did it hurt to die?
Every single time.
There was a long pause.
But you wouldn’t believe how it feels to be raised.
Something shuffled below us on the cobbles. I held my breath, trying to hear past the phoenix’s keening song.
A flash of metal
met my gaze. A weapon. I followed it with my eyes and found the raider – streaked in black ash – who clutched that weapon. He slipped down the street like a shadow, and at his back were a dozen others.
Chapter Thirteen
There was a scuffling sound from another street over.
More of them.
My heart was in my throat. I couldn’t scream a warning, and if I moved at all, they would see me and kill me. Some of them held short bows. It would be easy enough to shoot me out of the thatch. I turned worried eyes toward where the guard on the Hog’s Head Inn was waiting in the thatch. Another man had joined him, passing him a mug. In the light of their lantern, I could see that neither of them was looking this way.
My face went cold as the blood drained away from it. They weren’t going to see this raider attack. It was going to be too late.
I spun to look at Kazmerev. Would he help? Could he?
He tilted his head to one side.
How do you want me to help?
His keening came to a stop as he regarded me.
He was a phoenix, a fiery bird of legend, surely, he could help somehow.
How?
My eyes went wide. I hadn’t expected that response. Well, he could swoop at them and blind them, perhaps.
No one can see me but you, remember?
He could set them on fire.
Look at the thatch.
It was untouched. But he must be able to do something! What did other Flame Riders do when they were attacked?
Ah! That! Well, you can throw balls of fire from your hands and with practice, you can get quite good at aiming them. You can shoot sparks from your fingers. You can dance in the flames untouched and ride on my back into the sky.
No, I couldn’t do that. Veela might have, but I could not – except maybe the riding thing.
Phoenix Heart: Episode 1: Ashes Page 5
