But Rhen refused to give up hope.
The compromise.
The spirit had promised she was going to save them, that she and the shadow had made a deal, that the fight would end. If he could just hold out a little bit longer, peace was coming. The spirit promised peace would be here.
What if she lied?
The thought came quick. And once there, no matter how hard Rhen tried to push it to the back of his mind, the doubt wouldn't disappear.
What if the spirit had abandoned them? What if there never was a deal with the shadow? What if she wanted to let the world crumble?
What if everything she had said was a lie?
Jin.
Rhen stopped.
What if she had lied about Jinji? What if the woman he loved was in danger? What if Rhen was responsible for putting her at death's door?
His mouth went dry.
His heart stopped.
His eyes grew wide.
Rhen reached into the back of his mind, searching for her presence. He felt Leena and Tempest. He felt Bran and the earth dragon. He felt Jasper and the air dragon. All of them were fighting, distracted, at war.
But the spirit was nowhere.
There was a void where her presence used to be.
Pure fear struck his heart.
"Firestorm!" Rhen shouted then swung his sword as bleeding hands grabbed for his neck. The blade sliced deep into the man's already gashed stomach. He pushed with his foot, jerking his sword free, spinning quickly to ward off another foe. His eyes found Whyllem's red hair in the crowd, relief flooding his veins when he saw that his brother still wielded his weapon deftly, still fought with the vigor of life.
Their eyes met through the chaos.
Distracted, Rhen failed to notice a hand reach for his shirt, jerking him back. He fell, landing hard on his backside while he whipped the blade around, catching his attacker in the leg. The man didn’t even register the pain. He fell on top of Rhen, clasping his fingers around Rhen's throat, trying to steal the life from his body. Eyes bulging as his air ran thin, Rhen noticed a silver glint at the man's back. The hilt of a knife driven deep into his body, evidence of a previous kill. Rhen dropped his cumbersome sword, unable to use it from the ground. He reached up with his free hand, pulled the knife free, and drove it into the undead man's gut. Blood gushed from the wound. The hands around his neck released, and Rhen shoved the man away, not turning around to wait for unnatural life to flood his gaze once more.
"Rhen," Whyllem called, closing in. "I saw you go down."
They had a momentary reprieve from the fight, a second to breathe and find relief that they were both alive. Then Rhen grabbed his sword from the ground and turned to the sky. Firestorm circled, waiting for his rider's signal.
"I must go," Rhen told Whyllem, turning back to his brother. "Something is wrong. I can sense it. Jinji needs me. The plan is falling apart around us."
"Go." Whyllem nodded.
Rhen grabbed his brother's arm. "Stay safe, Whyllem. Don't let the mist touch you. Not even for a second. If it comes to it, use the tunnels beneath the castle to escape with our family. Don't be ashamed to run away, there is nothing that will stop these phantoms, not if the plan has failed."
And then a new undead enemy attacked, coming between them. Whyllem twisted his sword, cutting into the man's thigh. And Rhen slipped away, running through the madness, searching for an open spot where Firestorm could retrieve him. As soon as he reached an empty street, his dragon was already landing on the cobblestones. In less than a second, Rhen had leaped onto his back and they were flying.
"Do you sense her?" Rhen asked.
But Firestorm didn't answer.
He was afraid to.
Rhen leaned against his blazing neck, breathing in the flames, calming himself in the warmth of those charcoal scales.
"Where is she?"
But Firestorm was just as lost as Rhen, just as in pain. Both of them wandered without a tether to bring them home, searching for a connection that was impossible to find.
"Go to the Gates," Rhen whispered, throat tight. It was the only place he could think of, the only hope he had left.
Jinji was okay.
She had to be.
Otherwise, Rhen wouldn't survive. He couldn’t. Not without her.
Trying to shake his fear, Rhen reached out through the spirit connection, searching for Jinji within the magic. He sensed the other three riders, sensed a desperation and exhaustion that matched his own. But he couldn't sense Jinji. He couldn't sense the spirit either.
I'm worrying over nothing, he tried to reason, tried to control his surging horror. Maybe the spirit had closed the connection so she could speak to the shadow in private. Maybe the compromise was just finishing. Maybe the phantoms were disappearing at this very moment, already gone from the city he had left behind.
But they weren't.
In his gut, Rhen knew.
The dread mounting beneath his skin couldn't be denied.
As they approached the Gates, it only strengthened.
When they soared over those towering ivory peaks, catching their first glimpse of the scene below, his heart shuddered to an immediate halt.
Firestorm landed softly.
Rhen slid from the dragon's back, lifeless, and stopped dead in his tracks. Surrounded by the flames billowing from his dragon's skin, Rhen was frozen. His veins were ice. His skin was cold. A frost filled his chest, burying his soul in snow.
His strength gave out.
He fell to his knees, landing in the pool of brilliant red blood surrounding Jinji and Janu's ashen bodies.
Rhen screamed, a guttural noise that ripped free of his throat, tearing his entire torso down the middle as the sound broke its way free. Firestorm roared his rage. The sound echoed, surrounding them both, and then silence. Deafening.
Heat flooded Rhen.
"No! No! No!" he repeated over and over.
Tearing the knife free from Jinji's chest, he held his hands over the wound. His fingers stained red quicker than he believed possible as the blood continued to flow. Unsure what to do, he caressed her beautiful face, shaking as her golden tanned skin grew more and more gray. The blood on his hands stained her cheeks, making her deathly pallor even starker.
"Jin," he cried, pressing his lips to hers, shuddering against her ice-cold mouth. "I love you," he said, as though the words themselves could bring her back to life. "You can't leave me."
His tears landed on her face, washing the blood away, drawing lines across her skin. Rhen wrapped Jinji in his arms, gathering her limp limbs, uncaring as his red robes of Whylkin turned gruesomely maroon. He hugged her close, leaning over her, unable to find the strength to let her go. They shook together as sobs racked his frame, each one stronger than the last.
Rhen was a broken man.
His will to live died with her.
And as his soul shattered into pieces, a confession he couldn't deny burned the back of his throat.
"I did this," Rhen whispered, gasping for breath, unable to find it. The last shred of his strength unraveled. "I did this."
21
JINJI
~ THE SHADOW REALM ~
Jinji blinked in the soft light of the morning sun, opening her eyes slowly. A dream tugged at the far end of her mind, luring her back to sleep, urging she remain in bed a little while longer. But the images that had seemed so vivid moments ago began to dissipate at the first glance of day. Night was gone. The time for dreaming had passed.
The tan hides of the hut around her billowed softly in the breeze. Green leaves and blue sky were visible through the smoke hole at the top of the hut. Her eyes searched, and for some reason, her heart filled with so much love it nearly burst as her gaze landed on her parents. The same as every other day, yet this day it felt so incredibly different. Overwhelming. And she had no idea why.
"Are you awake?" Janu whispered.
Jinji spun upon hearing his voice, turning to her twin who
rested on the other side of their shared pallet. She nodded, signaling for quiet.
"It's the morning of my joining." Janu shrugged, voice growing louder as a hint of mischief filled his eyes. Then he breathed deeply, screaming, "I can be as loud as I want!"
"Aye!" Their father shot up, eyes wide. Then he turned on his son, glaring disapproval. Jinji giggled, covering her mouth. Janu smiled too innocently. "You are turning into a man today, becoming the future leader of this tribe. It is time to start acting responsibly."
"Shh," their mother hushed, reaching up blindly to find their father's shoulder and pat it gently. "Take your son on his hunt. Find him a good offering that will bring good fortune to his joining. The lessons can wait for tomorrow."
Jinji grinned, amazed at the way their mother always took control of any situation—especially now, having not even opened her eyes to peek at the light of day. Already their father hunched his shoulders, softening his stance, and nodded gently toward Janu.
"Son?"
Janu jumped from the pallet, eagerly reaching for his bow and the set of arrows Jinji had prepared for him these past few weeks, a present for her dear brother on the joyous day of his joining. Within minutes, the men had disappeared.
"Are they gone?" her mother whispered, sounding far more awake.
Jinji giggled, shaking her head. "Yes."
Her mother shot up, eyes twinkling, reminding Jinji so much of her brother. "Then we have no time to waste."
Now it was Jinji's turn to jump from the pallet and join her mother. Together, they lifted the wooden frame. Resting underneath her bed, loosely wrapped in tan hides, was the dress her dear friend would wear on the day of her joining to Janu. Jinji and her mother had been working on it for weeks, making sure the hides bleached to perfect white, stringing dried berries of every color into the fringe lining the edges, sewing red and green and yellow patterns around every inch of the garment. The ancient symbols were a sign of good luck and good fortune, a promise that the newly joined couple would lead the tribe into a better future.
"I found these just yesterday," Jinji whispered, reaching into the satchel hanging next to her bed.
Her mother gasped.
They were deep brown hawk feathers, and when they caught the sun, they shimmered like the surface of the river on a hot day, reflecting rainbows. Together, she and her mother stitched them into loose sleeves, the perfect finishing touch for the most important dress her best friend would ever wear.
"I think we're done," her mother said, brown eyes shining proudly at her daughter.
Jinji gripped her mother's fingers and squeezed them tightly, unsure why tears were brimming in her eyes. The beat of her heart raced, and her throat dried. This was not the first time her mother had been proud of her, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but for some reason, Jinji was overcome by the words, undone by them, as though she had been waiting a lifetime for such affection.
"No time for that," her mother whispered, reaching out to wipe away the tears. "Everyone will be waiting."
Jinji nodded, knowing they were late. And together, she and her mother left their home, walking the short distance to the hut the rest of the tribe shared. The elders were already circling her friend, pulling at her hair and pressing scented waters to the bare skin of her arms.
"Jinji!" a voice called from the center of the group.
She smiled, excitement building beneath her skin, and shouted back, "Leoa!"
Her best friend broke free of the nagging tribeswomen, leaving the elders behind as she threw herself into Jinji's arms. And even though Jinji was the smaller of the two, she caught Leoa, hugging her tight.
A sob rose up her throat, surprising her.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Tremors shook her limbs—tremors of relief, of something she couldn't quite identify.
"Jinji?" Leoa asked, leaning back with a teasing smile on her lips. "Are you all right?"
"I don't know," Jinji said, laughing at herself as she wiped the water from her cheeks and shook her head. "I'm just so happy for you I guess. We're going to be sisters!"
"We always have been," Leoa said, reaching for her hands.
But Jinji shook her head, signaling behind to where her mother stood, holding out the dress. Before she even had a chance to explain the gift, Leoa was shrieking.
"It's so beautiful!" she cried, grabbing Jinji's hands. They twirled around for a moment, and then Leoa released Jinji's hands, jumping up and down on her own, flitting her way to the dress. She held it at arm's length, marveling at all of the detail, then hugged it tightly against her chest with a sigh, before holding it out for everyone else to see. The elders gushed, congratulating Jinji and her mother on their work, running their fingers over the stitching and admiring the feathers.
Jinji nodded silently, biting her lip, embarrassed with the compliments. But the quieter Jinji became, the louder Leoa did, bringing the attention back to her. Jinji grinned at her friend in thanks, always the more silent of the two. But it worked for them—Leoa was the loud and crazy one, Jinji was the soft and strong one.
While everyone watched, Leoa slipped into the dress, bringing more nods of approval. And then everyone sat around her in a circle, joining hands, humming silent prayers for the spirits. Leoa's mother stood behind her daughter, gently running her fingers through her long ebony hair. And Jinji sat in front, holding both of her friend's hands, grinning from ear to ear.
It was time to get her braid.
Leoa's fingers shook nervously, and Jinji gripped them tightly. They giggled together, still sounding like young girls, not the women they were becoming. But her friend grew silent as her hair was divided into three strong and sturdy strands. Leoa licked her lips. Jinji had never seen her so afraid.
"Janu is going to stop breathing when he sees you," she whispered low enough that no one else could hear.
Leoa looked at her gratefully, cheeks blushing pink. "Do you really think so?"
Jinji smiled. "I do."
"Taikeno," Leoa's mother said loudly, holding out one third of her daughter's hair and showing it to the group.
"For your joined," everyone replied in unison.
Leoa breathed deeply. Jinji watched her eyes fill up with joy. She had never seen her friend look so happy.
"Ka'shasten," Leoa's mother announced, holding out the middle section.
"For your children," everyone answered.
"Arpapajona," she said next, displaying the final grouping.
"For your people," they all whispered.
Jinji held Leoa's hands tightly as the elders began repeating those three words, a chant to the spirits to keep Leoa safe, to bless her joining, to grant her healthy children, and to help her watch over the tribe when it became her turn to lead. Leoa's mother continued the braid, weaving her daughter's ebony locks into a strong hold that signified so much more than just a hairstyle.
Taikeno.
Ka'shasten.
Arpapajona.
As Jinji said the words over and over again, a heavy feeling settled in her chest. Was she jealous? Was she sad? An odd torrent of emotions washed over her as the ancient words filled the air, raining down upon her. Her own hair was long, tumbling freely down her back. But for a second, the ghost of a breeze swept across her neck, making her shiver, as though all her beautiful curls had been cut free, as though she were in desperate mourning.
Taikeno.
The word made her wince.
My love. My life.
Why did it feel as though she had said those words before? As though she had meant them?
Taikeno.
Ka'shasten.
Arpapajona.
Jinji closed her eyes, shaking just slightly, trying to dispel her darkening thoughts. And then she opened, jerking away as her gaze met Leoa's, and a vision crossed over her eyes—a memory that never was. For a moment, she saw her best friend splayed out below her, blood seeping from an open wound as an arrow protruded from her chest. For a m
oment, she saw her best friend's honey irises closing with a vacant expression. For a moment, she saw her best friend dead.
Jinji screamed.
Everyone stopped.
Leoa watched her worriedly.
Jinji closed her eyes, but in the darkness, all she saw was the image of these walls splashed in blood and countless throats slashed in sleep, countless bodies leaking life and dying.
Her eyes shot open.
Jinji ran.
Air. She needed fresh air. Nightmares were washing over her. She couldn't breathe. She ran from the hut, shaking violently as a chill shot down her limbs, so cold even the sun provided no warmth.
"Jinji?" a voice called.
She spun. "Maniuk!" She sighed.
He walked over, grabbing her by the upper arms, watching closely, affection evident in his gaze. "What's going on? Is everyone okay? We heard you scream."
"Yes," she admitted, feeling insane now that she was out beneath the open, cloudless sky. What could be wrong about a day that was so beautiful? Jinji looked up, preparing herself to meet the warm brown eyes of her betrothed.
She gasped.
His eyes were green. They were on fire. They blazed with the heat of the sun, watching her with more love than she had ever felt in her entire life. They were alive with a burning desire she had never seen before.
Maniuk blinked.
The image vanished.
Jinji released a hot breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Are you sure?" Maniuk whispered.
Jinji nodded. But when she looked away, a new vision took hold—one of Maniuk with a knife to his throat. Of him watching her with malicious ivory eyes.
"Jinji," he said again.
She jerked free of his arms, backing away.
"Jinji?" Janu's voice called.
She spun, but the brother she saw before her was not the one she remembered. He was thin and frail. His eyes were haunted and hooded. The life had disappeared from his soul. The will to discover what the future held had vanished.
"Jinji," he said again, soothingly. But this time it was not his voice that spoke, it was someone else, someone who sounded familiar, someone whom she had somehow been expecting.
The Phoenix Born (A Dance of Dragons #3) Page 24
