"She will forgive us in time. She will see there was no other way."
"And if she doesn't? I might be new to this whole dragon thing, but if today was any indication, I'm not so sure I want to face those ghosts without Jinji's magic there to help us."
"I'm not so sure I want to watch the world fall apart, watch hundreds die, watch the few loved ones I have left perish, knowing I didn't do everything in my power to stop it," Leena replied, calm demeanor rapidly deteriorating.
"What exactly is it that you're going to do? Try to force the most powerful person on earth to murder someone? What are you going to do, launch icicles at her until she gives in?" Jasper mocked, tone bubbling over with disbelief. He snorted. "Good luck."
"I…" Leena trailed off, shutting her mouth and gritting her teeth. Rhen could just read the frustration in the princess's eyes—it mirrored his own. But Jasper wasn't what had him frustrated—it was the fact that the points they both made were true, no matter how opposite.
"I have a little sister," Bran murmured, chest concave as he gazed down at his feet. "I would kill anyone who tried to hurt her."
Leena released a sigh, falling back. "I have a little brother who means the world to me. But that is not the point. Your sister, Bran?" She paused, voice growing distant, passionate, but ominous as well. "What if the phantoms turn on Fayfall next? Would you let them destroy your home and your family all the while knowing you could stop it? Would you defend your sister like you just said you would? Or you, Rhen? What if the shadow turns his eye to Rayfort? Would you rather let Jinji's brother live or save your family and your kingdom from destruction?"
He couldn't help but notice that her hand had come to rest on her stomach, cradling it protectively. Her fingers caressed the fabric, gently, lovingly—maternally. Rhen widened his gaze, searching the princess's face. But her eyes were focused somewhere else, not on him, not on the others. They were glassy and vacant. "Think of all the innocent children, whose futures will be stripped away before they even get the chance to live…" She trailed off, blinking. Her gaze refocused, meeting each one of their eyes, hard and unrelenting. "Our fate is not to make the impossible choice between duty and family. Our fate is to help someone we all care about understand that her impossible choice only has one possible answer."
They all paused, letting the princess's words sink in.
Rhen had thought much the same. But he didn't consider it their fate—he considered it his and his alone. Of all the riders, Jinji loved him most, listened to him most, depended on him most. And so of all the riders, he was the only one who could possibly get through to her, could make her see what had to be done no matter how horrifying it was.
If he could just rewind time.
If he could undo his failure.
If he could have yelled her name a little bit faster, reached out his hand a little bit quicker. If he could have gotten to her in time, maybe things would be different. Maybe she wouldn't have disappeared. Maybe her eyes wouldn't have looked quite so abandoned. Maybe he wouldn't feel quite so lost.
But that was just a dream.
Even if Jinji had stayed, Rhen would be faced with the same choice. Choose the woman he loved and watch the world perish. Or choose the world, choose betrayal, and watch her love turn to loathing.
He had made a promise to himself after burning the rebellion against Whylkin to the ground, after saving the city of Rayfort from certain destruction and using Firestorm to murder so many innocents—never again. He had told himself that even love wasn't strong enough to justify the killing of innocents. But at the time, he had been thinking only of his family. Of Whyllem. Of the baby. Of his mother. Human wars were not his to choose sides in anymore. He had to protect everyone, every man and woman, no matter what kingdom they were loyal to.
But this was different.
This was Jinji.
And the possibility of losing her had never once crossed his mind.
Loving her was as certain as breathing.
He wasn't sure he could live without it.
Rhen!
He looked up, glancing around, but no one was looking at him. All four riders were deep in their own thoughts, not paying attention to the world or anyone around them. Had he imagined it? The word was faint and far away, perhaps drummed up by his own feeble hope.
Rhen!
The word was far off again, barely audible. But a moment later, panic surged over his limbs, suffocating in its intensity. All of his muscles tensed as the foreign sensation rolled over him. His heart raced. He stood, scanning the empty fields surrounding them.
Rhen!
He recognized her voice. He always would, no matter how distant the sound.
And he recognized the terror and desperation in her call.
"Jin?" he asked. But there was no response. Where was she?
Leena glanced at him, brows knotted, and stood. "I feel it too," she murmured, rolling her shoulders as though uncomfortable. Bran and Jasper eased to their feet, eyes focused on the horizon.
Rhen!
Louder this time.
"Jin!" he shouted. He didn't wait for a response. Already Firestorm was soaring toward him, a ball of flames growing larger by the second, and Rhen dove onto his back without hesitation. "Find her," was all he said. But the dragon needed no instruction. He flew with purpose, with a destination already in mind.
Jin!
Rhen shouted through the connection, feeling her presence even more now that he was sitting on Firestorm's back, racing through the air, as close to the spirits as he could possibly get.
Jin! I'm coming! Hold on!
And he kept sending his voice through the dragon's bond, through the connection that tied all of the riders and all of the dragons to their core, to the spirit magic and to her. Leena and the others shouted too, trying their best to lend Jinji strength. But there was only one word coming through her end of the bond. His name. Over and over and over again.
"Faster," he muttered into the blazing scales of Firestorm's back. "Faster."
But Rhen knew the dragon was moving as fast as he possibly could. Jasper shot ahead, as quick as the wind. Leena raced by Rhen's side. Their eyes met through fire and ice, fear and worry bright in both of their gazes. The same thought was certainly on both of their minds—the shadow, Janu, and what he could have possibly done. Or more specifically, what they in their inaction had allowed him to do.
But when the riders found Jinji, she was alone.
Jasper landed first. He was already kneeling over her by the time Rhen jumped from Firestorm's back, racing to place his ear to her chest, to hear her heartbeat. It did. But the rest of her was impossibly still. Only her eyes, hidden behind closed lids, ticked back and forth, showing a sign of life.
"Jin," Rhen whispered, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Jin," he murmured again, cupping her cold hand in his, bringing it to his lips. He kissed her gently, hoping the warmth from his touch would wake her.
"Is she alive?" Leena asked.
Rhen nodded, not looking away.
"What happened?" Jasper questioned, standing and backing away, taking a spot by Leena's side, giving Rhen and Jinji space. Bran landed with a thud behind them, rattling the earth but saying nothing as he took the spot by Leena's other side, watching with concern, eyes full of tenderness.
Rhen, Jinji called out to him again, but this time it was calmer, as though she knew that he was there, that he was with her.
And then her eyes fluttered.
Her fingers twitched.
A smile spread across her face, as bright as the sun.
"Rhen." Her arms came around him, holding him close as she shook with relief. "You came."
He ran his fingers through her short ebony hairs, kissing her forehead. "Of course I came."
And then she shifted, moving so she looked over his shoulder. "You all came."
"Are you all right?" Leena asked, tone deep and caring. And in her voice, Rhen recognized a glimmer of love.
Despite her harsh words from before—words Rhen knew came from a place of duty and honor—the princess cared for Jinji. She didn't want to see her harmed. She didn't want to be the one who had to harm her.
Jinji sat back, taking a deep breath as she met Rhen's eyes, looking at him as though he were the most important thing in the world. As though he were the world.
"Can you ever forgive me?" she asked. Her attention was focused on him and him alone.
Rhen had no answer but to repeat the question back. "Can you ever forgive me?"
"I'm sorry for lying," she blurted, biting her lip and curling her legs into her chest.
"I'm sorry for not listening," he said, not letting her go.
"I'm sorry for restraining you." Jinji squeezed her eyes shut, cringing.
"I'm sorry for making you."
"I'm sorry for not being strong enough."
"I'm sorry for asking you to be."
"I'm—"
But Rhen interrupted by placing his finger over her lips, shaking his head. There would be so many more apologies in the future—he knew there would be. Because he was sorry for asking her to be strong enough to kill the shadow, he hated that he had to, but that wouldn't stop him from asking it again and again until she found the strength. Begging forgiveness would soon become his fate, apologies would become his future, he wouldn't be able to escape them. But he could delay them for a little while.
"What happened?" he asked instead. "Was it…?" But he couldn't finish. Her eyes darkened just a shade. She knew what he was going to ask. Was it Janu?
Jinji stood, stretching her arms high above her. And then she straightened her shoulders, face returning to its normal focused expression. "No, it wasn't the shadow. Not this time." The softness was gone from her voice, replaced with determination. "I lost myself for a moment. It won't happen again."
Rhen couldn't fight the feeling that she wasn't addressing them—that she was speaking to someone else. Something else. Before Rhen could open his mouth to question her, Jinji said something that stilled them.
"My brother wishes to die."
For a moment, Rhen was afraid to breathe. They all were—worried that even the slightest hint of an exhale might stop her from continuing.
But that was it. Jinji kept her eyes glued to the ground, repeating in a softer, sadder voice, "My brother wishes to die."
And none of them knew what to say next.
Rhen glanced up, meeting Leena's eyes. Then Jasper's. Then Bran's. After hours of trying to convince themselves that killing Janu was the only way, not a single one of the riders could find his or her voice to speak. No one urged Jinji to give into her brother's wishes. No one reminded her that it was the only way to save the world. No one told her that it was the right thing to do.
Rhen tried.
But every time the words came to his tongue, he swallowed them back down.
What could he possibly say?
Jinji filled the silence, staring at the grass crunched below her feet, watching as it shifted in the wind. "His life has been torture." She shook her head, clenching her fists. "The shadow controls his body. Janu disappears for days at a time, never knowing when or where he will wake. And even when he is in his own body, aware of the world, he is tormented with questions—where has the shadow gone now? Whom will he kill? What horrific visions will fill my hours when he returns? That's not life. That's not living."
She sighed, gripping her head in her hands, closing her eyes, speaking more for herself. "He asked me to help him. To help end it. I don’t want him to suffer. I don't want him to live in pain. But—" Her voice cracked, cutting her off. She swallowed, trembling. "But how can I do this? I can't."
Rhen took a deep breath, focusing on the muscles clenched at Jinji's neck, focusing on how rigid and pained her body looked, focusing on how much this decision was ripping her apart. And then he murmured, "Let me do it for you."
She opened her eyes. The golden flecks were gone, snuffed out. "I can't."
"Let me take this burden from you," he said, voice stronger this time. "Let me make the decision for you."
Jinji shook her head sadly. "Whether it is your hands or mine doesn't matter. The choice will always rest on my shoulders."
"Jinji," Leena said, stepping forward.
But Jinji held up her hand. "No."
Rhen shifted his feet, unsure which side he should take. But without consciously deciding, he moved toward Jinji, to comfort her, to support her.
"I need more time," she whispered. "I can try to talk to the shadow again. He might reason with me, he might compromise. I can still find another way. We haven't run out of options yet. I love Janu. I can't let him go, not until I know for certain."
Rhen looked at Leena. They spoke without words, her mysterious umber eyes no longer so mysterious for once. For now, they would give Jinji her time. They would give her what she needed. No one wanted to lose her trust, her companionship. Rhen didn't want to lose her love. But there was something else shared in that momentary glance. An agreement. Rhen and Leena both knew there would be no other way. They would give Jinji time, whatever time they could, but if the phantoms returned, if another city was slated for desolation, that time would run out.
"If there is nothing else that can be done," Jinji continued, unaware of the glance Rhen and Leena shared, "I will find the strength somehow. I promise."
But Rhen heard the weakness in those words even if Jinji could not.
He knew the truth. And he didn't blame her for it. If he were in her position, his choice would be the same. Anyone's would be. She would never find that strength.
So Rhen would have to find it for her.
All he could do was pray that someday she would understand.
"Can I ask a somewhat obvious question?" Jasper drawled, interrupting Rhen's thoughts. He turned to the air rider. The boy had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders shrugged. His brows were raised high as he glanced around the group. "We're going on and on about this shadow, deciding his fate, but does anyone know where he is?"
Jinji gasped, spinning on her heels.
"Janu?" she called. But there was no one in sight. She turned back to the group, eyes wide with fear. "He left me. He walked away. I don't, I don't know where he went."
"We have to find him," Rhen said, choosing his words carefully, keeping his voice even. Jinji's tone was full of concern. Clearly, she worried for her brother's life, but Rhen had other worries—keeping his enemy close, just in case.
Leena felt the same. But the princess was not so careful with her words. The harshness of Ourthuri culture seeped in, whether she realized it or not. "We can't let him get away."
Jinji glared at the princess. But Rhen took her hand, leading her toward Firestorm. "Can you sense him anywhere?" Rhen asked her.
Jinji shook her head.
"Can you?" he muttered to Firestorm, running his fingers through the small flames slipping out from between the black scales as the dragon moved his neck, dipping lower to let them on. But Firestorm grunted dishearteningly, letting Rhen know he could not.
They took off slowly, searching the ground. The city of Roninhythe was barely visible on the horizon, far away on the left side of Rhen's sight. Ahead, a sliver of blue stretched across his entire field of vision, starting at the city and spreading all the way to his right. And that's when he remembered something that made his heart stop—in fear or elation, he wasn't sure. When Jinji had run from him after the battle, she had run toward something she didn't even realize was there.
A ravine.
But maybe Janu did. Or maybe it was just fate acting again.
Rhen shifted Firestorm, surging forward, blasting off like a bolt of lightning streaking across the sky.
"Do you see something?" Jinji shouted over the crackle of the fire.
Rhen shook his head. "Maybe. I'm not sure."
But he was. Deep in the pit of his stomach he was.
Cal and he used to ride to the ravine as boys. Cal
, of course, had been terrified of the place, leaving Rhen to climb down the rock wall by himself while his friend watched from above commenting the entire time about how they shouldn't be doing this.
The memory brought an image of the ravine sharply back to his mind. It was so unnatural, so wrong. The land was utterly flat for miles, but suddenly it dropped out into a crevice no wider than two men. It was a crack in the land, a sudden fissure, as though the world was breaking apart, but it only stretched on for a hundred yards. There used to be so many stories about how it got there—that a giant died ages ago, and the ground broke apart under the weight of his fall; that a witch cursed the land and used it for sacrifices; that the gods had made the earth shake in their anger and split it apart; that it used to be a secret entrance to the world of the dead. Rhen realized now that the earth dragon likely created the ravine during a long ago battle.
The landscape grew more familiar as they flew closer.
Right where he expected it, the ground split open.
Jinji cried out behind him.
They both saw the body at the same time. Crushed. Arms and legs splayed out at unnatural angles. Immobile.
Rhen gripped the scales beneath his fingers. Firestorm waited for the next command. But he didn't know what to say. Rhen was torn. Dive down in rescue? Or breathe fire and end everything right now?
Rhen saw the flames in his mind, saw Janu's body burned to ash, saw the shadow gone from the world, saw peace restored. He could do it. Here. In this very moment.
Jinji's arms loosened around his waist. "Rhen?"
He hesitated. She stiffened behind him.
Then she was gone.
15
JINJI
~ RONINHYTHE ~
Jinji didn't have to see Rhen's eyes to read his thoughts. The coil of his muscles, the way his biceps tensed beneath her hands, the way his back straightened. He was stuck. He was torn, hanging over a line he wasn't sure he was ready to cross. And she knew exactly what that line was.
He wouldn't cross it.
Not today.
The Phoenix Born (A Dance of Dragons #3) Page 17
