Phoenix felt confused. “It is?”
“You didn’t know?” The Prince’s expression was pitying. “Of course not,” he murmured, as if to himself. “He didn’t want you to know. He was afraid you might leave and he wanted you all for himself… No wonder he didn’t look for your family.”
The statement clanged through her. “He didn’t?” she asked in a stunned whisper. Hurt, she looked down at her frozen Master. The concentration that it took to fight against Prince Hallan’s Power showed on Malcourt’s face. He was unable to Speak to her because of the shield around him.
The Prince’s hand moved from her shoulder to the back of her head. “He wanted to make you stay with him,” he continued, his fingers sifting gently through her hair. A soft tingling spread through her body from his touch. “I want you to stay with me, too, but I want you to choose to do so.”
“Stay with you?” Phoenix’s confusion increased. Her body ached. She was mentally and physically exhausted. It would be easier to stop fighting. The more Prince Hallan spoke, the more he began to make sense.
The Prince’s fingers grazed the spot where the chunk of her hair had been pulled out. Frowning, he withdrew his hand and pulled her to her feet.
“You’ve been through so much today,” he murmured, as if trying to soothe her. His concern was so touching that tears suddenly filled her eyes. “Why don’t you go and wait with your friends? I’ll take care of all of this unpleasantness. I’ll take care of you.” He brushed a curl back from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
She stared up at him. His emerald eyes sparkled down at her and she couldn’t help but smile shyly back up at him.
She felt strange and warm inside. Everything seemed so far away. So unimportant. Everything except the Prince, and how he was looking at her. No one had ever looked at Phoenix like that before.
He lifted a hand to her cheek.
A ring on his finger snagged her attention. It was elegant. The gemstone in the centre, surrounded by familiar symbols, caught the light as it moved.
It was a focus ring.
Phoenix frowned. He had never worn it before. Until now, she didn’t know that the Prince had Power. He had shown no sign of it during her time at Angor. She hadn’t thought about how he was keeping Malcourt captive, or how he’d divided the rooms with a barrier. But if he still wore a focus ring, that meant that he was in training. Or that his Power was too unpredictable for him to handle.
The symbols on his band were different. Phoenix didn’t understand what they meant, but she recognized one of them. Its twin adorned the dagger from the fallen soldier.
Her brain was sluggish. She was too distracted by the Prince to concentrate, but she forced her thoughts past the fog that trapped them. Why would the Prince wear a symbol that matched the dagger that she carried? And why was the symbol so familiar in the first place?
The red light flickered off of the dagger tantalizingly where it lay forgotten on the floor. It was the same light she had seen in the clearing on her way to Angor. When red powder had been used to break Master Malcourt’s protection circle during the ambush. When the captured man held a dagger identical to the one in her hand.
Her mind cleared instantly.
Master Malcourt was not the threat. It had been Prince Hallan all along. He poisoned the King. His Power had revealed them in the clearing. It was his men who had attacked them, it was his binding spell that controlled them, and his plan, now, that was being followed through. He was the one attacking the castle.
The warmth she held for him turned to revulsion in the pit of her stomach. She understood, now, what his Talent was. She could feel the waves of manipulation emanate from him in an attempt to tangle her senses.
With a jerk, Phoenix slapped his hand away before it could touch her face.
“No,” she said, firmly.
The Prince’s expression turned incredulous. “What?”
“No!” she repeated, loudly.
“No?” he demanded, his exhale turning the word into a hiss. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
A wave of anger washed over her. “It was you all along,” she replied, her voice getting louder with every word. She took a few steps back, grabbing the dagger and positioning it between them. “You’re the one behind everything.”
I am here, a voice said. Keep him busy.
Rorin must be nearby if he was able to Speak to her again. Phoenix glanced over to see that the barrier, the flickering red barricade that the Prince had so carefully erected along the doorframe and across the walls, hadn’t jumped across the window’s opening to meet itself.
Rorin had entered unseen through that window, and was slowly crawling along the ceiling to where King Benedict was being held.
“But why?” Phoenix asked, stalling; backing up so that her heel touched the light that cocooned around Malcourt. It flared, angry at the contact. “King Benedict is your family. Why would you do this to someone you love?”
Prince Hallan threw back his head and laughed. “Love?” he mocked. “Hardly. The only person I ever loved was my sister, Helena – and he took her away from me! He had to be punished. They both did.”
“Both?” Phoenix asked.
“She left me for him,” the Prince spat, and Phoenix fought the urge to shrink back from the wild look in his eyes. “She abandoned me for him - a stranger in a foreign land. She wouldn’t come home. She refused to leave because of their child, but she belonged with me!”
King Benedict thrashed. He elbowed the assassin in the stomach, managing to free himself momentarily as the man doubled over. “You?” he cried at the Prince. “You killed them?”
Prince Hallan’s face twisted. “It was supposed to be you,” he snarled. “Helena’s death was an accident. I never meant to hurt her. I wanted you gone - you and your heir - so that I could come here and comfort her. I would help her rule Angoria. We would never be apart again!”
With an outraged roar, King Benedict lurched forward.
Rorin gave a savage snarl and dropped onto the assassin. Oliver screamed and lost his balance as the gargoyle crashed into him.
“Guards!” Prince Hallan’s face grew red as he screamed. “Kill them! Kill them all!”
Kenneth and Jamie charged at the King. Phoenix whirled and dropped to her knees next to Malcourt. “Master,” she whispered. Her fingers edged past the vulgar symbol next to the barrier and touched his arm through it. Triumphant, Phoenix realized that she was able to enter this barrier as well.
“Get away from him,” Prince Hallan demanded.
Phoenix slammed her hands against the shield, pushing through the resistance that fought to block her. She grabbed at Master Malcourt’s hands and pulled. A soft glow appeared between their fingers, and Phoenix felt his hands squeeze her own. Bracing herself, Phoenix gave one final tug and pulled them free.
Malcourt’s Power flashed a brilliant yellow. With an audible crack, the wrapping around him shattered into shards of yellow light. The next instant, Phoenix was pushed to the floor as a blast of red blew past her to intersect with the shield that Malcourt had conjured. Malcourt rolled to his feet and threw himself at the Prince.
Across the room, the Prince’s personal guards had caught up with the King, who was doing his best to fight both at the same time. Next to him, Rorin was fully engaged in combat with the assassin.
Phoenix jumped up and darted around the Power battle. She ran to King Benedict, surprising the nearest guard by running into him at full speed. She ducked as he recovered and swung his spear at her.
The King held the assassin’s previously dropped sword and blocked the fatal blow from Kenneth’s spear before it hit him. While they were locked together, Phoenix ducked underneath the weapons and slashed the guard’s knee with her knife. He cried out and, grabbed his leg, dropping his weapon in the process. King Benedict used the hilt of his sword to bash the man’s head, and the man dropped to the floor.
There was a scream behind her that dropped into
silence. Phoenix glanced behind her to see that Rorin’s struggle with the assassin had led them to the window. The gargoyle was peering down over the ledge, frowning as the man disappeared from sight.
The other guard was coming up behind her. Rorin leapt over them and whipped his tail at the guard’s head. The man ducked, but the gargoyle grabbed his arm and pulled him backwards. The King swung around and Phoenix stabbed the man in his side. He grunted in pain, and Rorin took the opportunity to throw him back against the wall. He connected soundlessly and did not move.
The three turned their attention to the fight between Malcourt and Prince Hallan.
The two fighters didn’t notice them. They were too busy trying to stay alive. Malcourt was more powerful, but the Prince had syphoned off so much of his energy that they had become evenly matched. He had to rely solely on his training.
Rorin crouched down and the air around them grew heavy. He launched himself upwards and, with a flap of his great wings, dove towards the two. King Benedict paused only a moment before he and Phoenix ran after him.
Prince Hallan shot a bolt at Malcourt, who held out his hand in front of him to block it. A shield flickered into existence briefly before disappearing with the impact of absorbing the attack.
The Prince had moved forward during the shot, so when the shield disappeared he was the perfect distance to strike out. The metal bracer on the back of his fist collided solidly with Master Malcourt’s face. Phoenix heard the crunch of breaking bones, and Master Malcourt’s legs gave way under him.
“No!” she screamed.
Rorin pressed his wings to his back and dove at Prince Hallan. The Prince rolled away just in time and watched as the gargoyle swooped upward for another dive.
“Spear!” he shouted, raising his hand at the attacking creature. Light shot from his fingers and raked along the gargoyle’s open wing.
Rorin screamed – sounding like a wounded animal – and his wing drooped. He fell into a downward spiral and landed heavily on the stone floor.
Smirking, the Prince walked back to Malcourt and pointed at him with his sword. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”
King Benedict leapt forwards. “Defend yourself!” The King boomed, swinging his sword hastily at the Prince.
Prince Hallan did not need to. Lifting his weapon he stabbed at the King with his lightning reflexes.
The blade cut easily through King Benedict’s finery. There was a muted crunching sound as it pierced his chest. The King stood still, and Phoenix watched in horror as the Prince slowly pulled the sword from the King’s body, the wet noise from the drawn-out motion was the only sound in the room. He held the sword at his side and watched King Benedict calmly.
Everyone held their breath. All that could be heard was the blood that dripped from the Prince’s blade to collect in a pool on the floor.
Blood poured from King Benedict’s wound. The King, staring ahead in shock, pressed his hand to his chest in a distracted fashion. His sword clattered to the stone floor, forgotten, as he inspected his fingers. Slowly he closed his eyes.
Phoenix was sick with horror. She watched as blood seeped down the King’s finery, a red blossom that bloomed across his chest, soaking easily into the thin, ornate fabric.
He made no move to staunch the wound. Instead, he watched its growth with a curious expression.
Phoenix sucked in a ragged breath as tears streamed openly down her face.
King Benedict smiled sadly. “Helena,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. The blue of his eyes dimmed as his expression slackened. His legs crumpled beneath him, and Rorin stepped forward to catch his body before it hit the floor.
Malcourt dragged himself over to the two and pressed his fingers against the King’s neck. There was a pause, then Malcourt gently closed King Benedict’s eyes.
Prince Hallan threw his head back. “I’ve done it!” he crowed, his teeth flashing in the light. “I’ve finally done it! Angoria is mine!”
His voice crackled with a hysterical edge as it reverberated around the room. Each echo dripped with the hatred that he had hidden for so long - finally uncovered, it stretched and flexed in its newfound freedom.
Phoenix clenched her fists, using them to dash the tears from her eyes. It did nothing to halt the white-hot anger that blurred her vision. Unbidden, her Power leapt to her hands and licked along her fingers, warming her palms. Without thinking, blinded with rage, Phoenix pivoted backwards and threw the crooked dagger at Prince Hallan with all her strength.
The knife sliced through the air. The Prince jerked his head back, but not before the blade grazed his cheek. Stunned, he lifted his hand to the small trickle of blood that ran down his face.
“Ungrateful brat!” he snarled, his face contorting. “Net”, he spat, lifting his hand towards her.
Rorin dove towards her. “Watch out!”
Phoenix crossed her arms over her head in defense against the attack.
Red light spun from the Prince’s fingers. It coiled around itself, twisting together to complete the command before launching itself at her, but the net found no purchase. It passed through Phoenix like cobwebs on the breeze.
Instead, the net wrapped around Rorin, ensnaring the gargoyle where he stood behind her. He fell heavily, covered in the same draining energy that had trapped Master Malcourt.
“Must you ruin everything?” The Prince rounded on Phoenix, causing her to stumble back. “It would have gone so smoothly if you had only listened to me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then shrugged. “No help for it, I guess.”
The Prince raised his hand towards her. “Spear!” he commanded, releasing another bolt of light at her.
Phoenix froze. Master Malcourt had shielded himself against the same type of assault earlier. But his reflexes were much faster than hers. And his training…
Phoenix shifted into a defensive stance. Drills with Rolf were a help against a physical attack, but this was entirely different. She didn’t know how to make a shield. She couldn’t summon the light they had used, and her fire wasn’t strong enough to burn the spear…
Phoenix called to her Power. She dipped into the tired flames that flickered in her core. She coaxed them, pleading with them to expand. The air around her warmed in response before the heat sputtered into nothing. She was drained. She couldn’t protect herself.
Phoenix squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the blow.
Rorin screamed, his voice raw.
The flash of light was bright even through her closed eyes. She waited for the sensations to arrive: her energy to dissipate; the heat to erupt.
Nothing happened. There was a beat of silence, and Phoenix realized that she felt no pain. Opening her eyes, the remnants of her fire guttered into darkness, replaced by an icy terror that clawed at the inside of her chest. Phoenix’s breath caught in her throat.
Master Malcourt stood before her. He was hunched forward, his shoulders locked at odd angles. They rose shakily with his laboured breathing, his face becoming more ashen with each breath, but he managed to smile down at her when she opened her eyes.
“Master?” Phoenix’s voice was barely a whisper.
Master Malcourt opened his mouth to answer, but the sound died on his lips. He slumped forward and Phoenix caught him, gently helping him to the floor.
“Master…” She cradled his head in her lap, gripping his shoulders tightly, as if it would keep him with her. “Just hold on,” she whispered. “We’ll get Sylvia. She’ll fix everything. She’ll make everything better. Just hold on…”
Malcourt coughed and shook his head. Phoenix could feel the wound cavity on his back. The sickly red - a color reminiscent of blood - had spread to his chest from behind. “No.” The word came out as a rasp, his voice hoarse from the effort it took to fill his torn lungs with air. “Leave me here. Save yourself.”
“No! I won’t go without you!”
Malcourt chuckled weakly. “My dear – I am already gon
e.” He held a hand up against her cheek. “Dearest Phoenix…”
His eyes became unfocused. Malcourt’s gaze slid down her face, unseeing, and Phoenix pressed his hand against her cheek. She called out to him, begging him to come back to her.
For a brief moment his gaze settled on her pendant, uncovered since she had abandoned Sophie’s shawl during the fight to the King’s chambers.
His eyes widened and he reached out, laying his thumb against the teardrop gemstone in the center of her necklace. It glowed a brilliant blue, bathing his pale face with light as he looked at her in wonder.
He exhaled slowly and his hand dropped. Panicked, Phoenix grabbed at his clammy skin. “Master?”
Fumbling, Malcourt pressed his thumb against her palm. Phoenix winced as the touch burned. She held her hand up to see a glowing imprint against her skin before it faded from view.
Follow it… Malcourt’s body had stopped moving. Only his face showed any life as he looked up at her warmly. Go... find yourself.
He took a long laboured breath and his face went slack. Phoenix could see the light leaving his eyes, two brilliant blue gems dimming into stone as he stared up at her blankly.
“Master!” Phoenix screamed, clutching him tightly. Her chest felt as though it was going to explode. “Don’t go!”
Follow the trail. Survive...
His voice tapered off. The last word was an echo. Phoenix could hear it continue in her head, bouncing against the nothingness that remained. He was gone.
Master Malcourt was dead in her arms.
Pip screamed. The owl’s cry was so shrill that Phoenix felt chills along her skin.
Phoenix was numb. Everything around her seemed cold, and distant. This had to be a sleep-terror. She was going to wake up and everything would be back to normal. Once she had awoken to find the couch on fire, so all she had to do-
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