Fia closed her eyes and felt the air rush over her as if she were falling from the little seed pod. “I should be dead.”
Malachai explained how they’d heard the airship and arrived just as she fell. Fia was only half listening. You almost died…again. She watched Malachai, waving his hands about as he spoke. He was shorter than Alexander, but not by much. He wore the same loose, hemp-like trousers, but his were tied with a finely knotted rope of blues and greens.
He had golden skin and long, blonde hair that bounced as he moved. His soft brown eyes were edged with laughter lines, but he seemed young—they both looked barely older than she was. On his wrist, he wore a wide, gold cuff that reflected the light of the fire as he moved his hands about him. It was engraved with letters and moulded itself neatly to the shape of his arm.
“We need to know what you saw, who you saw, if you heard anything, as much information as you can tell us.” Malachai unrolled a length of fabric beside him and laid wooden items and a leather container similar to Noor’s on top of it. “But first, you need to eat.” He handed her a cup, neatly carved and smoothed, full to the brim with water.
Fia drank it quickly and handed the cup back for more. He refilled it, and passed her a leaf wrapped around strips of cooked meat.
“I’m going to get more firewood. Eat, and then we can discuss what happened on the airship,” Alexander spoke softly, the fire illuminating his wings as he stood. A wave of tiredness washed over Fia as the food hit her stomach, and she focused on the white of Alexander’s wings until he disappeared into the shadows.
“Why do you call him ‘Sire?’” she asked between mouthfuls of food.
“We are all related to Gabriel, in one way or another, but Alexander is a direct descendant. He is our leader. It is his birthright,” Malachai replied, the cuff on his wrist glittering. He followed her gaze. “From my wife,” he said, touching the cuff. “It is a tradition for us. We give them to our partners as a symbol of our commitment to each other.” He smiled as he wrapped his other hand around the golden cuff, gazing into the fire.
Commitment. She’d stayed with Henry because she had no one else. And then he’d cheated. But she’d used him, too, in her own way. She’d known it for a while. “That’s…that’s really lovely,” Fia said. “How long have you been together?”
“We were recently married.” Malachai beamed. “Last year. It caused quite the commotion, actually. We’re young to be married, even amongst angels. My parents were in their seventies when they chose to start a family.”
Fia coughed on a piece of dry meat. “Oh, that’s um…How nice,” she managed, patting her chest as the food eased its way down.
Malachai laughed. “Angels are a little different to humans.” He flexed his wings. “We don’t age as fast as you do. Our kind can live for hundreds of years if they are fortunate. I am very blessed to have found a partner. Many angels live their life alone.”
“Hundreds of years is a long time to be alone,” Fia replied. But time seemed different here, somehow. A sun dying. Shouldn’t that take a long time? “How old is your world?” She tried to work out the numbers. If Altair’s people had been driven out by the coming of the second sun, and the third sun was coming. Older than Earth, surely?
“We don’t know for certain. Our evolution has been different from yours. There was life during much of the duration of the first sun, but man and creatures that can communicate had only been around a few hundred years before the first sun died. We have no record before that, which is why we refer to it as the first sun—when in reality, there have probably been many.” Malachai passed more food to Fia as he spoke. She pieced together what he’d said with what Altair and Noor had told her.
“Why are you helping me? Why are any of you helping me?” She ate the last mouthful of food. None of it made sense. She rubbed her palms against her jeans and did her best to ignore the tightening of her chest, the way each breath was harder and harder to pull in.
“Angels have always been protectors,” Malachai replied. “As for the others, they are friends of Alexander’s, so you can be certain they are good people. Would you stand by and let a stranger die, or would you help, if you could?”
“I’d want to help,” she said, as Malachai packed away his things. “And I’m not dead or dreaming?”
“No, you’re very much alive.”
What she’d seen so far of this world was puzzling. There had been no real signs of civilisation other than the airship, which must have meant there was a dockyard or construction yard somewhere. The angels were like nothing she’d ever seen, nothing like the robed angels of children’s stories or on church windows. Here, they walked amongst mankind as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“Now, tell me everything you saw and heard on the airship,” Malachai said.
Fia recalled their capture by the Aurelli and Noor’s plan for her to escape. She told him in detail about the illusion Noor had created for her, right up until she’d been caught by the Shadow as she fell from the pod, omitting only the part where Noor told her she could hear creatures. She still wasn’t certain she could, or if she’d just been imagining things.
Malachai gave a thoughtful nod. “Did you only see Aurelli on board the airship?”
“Actually, when I was running, Noor’s illusion had just faded, and I heard two men talking. I only caught a glimpse of them, one referred to the other as brother.” She paused to readjust her bandaged arm. “They were talking about the angels and finding that word you used earlier…Alythia? Destroying it even, and they were going to use Noor to tell them.”
Malachai held his chin between finger and thumb for a moment. “Thank you for telling me.”
“But we need to stop them—they can’t—” Fia objected, but Malachai raised a hand to silence her, a warm smile breaking across his face.
“Rest. We’ll talk more after you’ve rested,” he said.
The first thin rays of sunlight were escaping over the horizon, turning the sky into a dim grey. The air felt still, the first few moments before dawn brought everything to life. Fia yawned and lay down, her thoughts hazy, but she was too restless to sleep, so she remained still until she no longer felt like she was falling.
Feet crunched against leaves. Her eyes flicked open to Alexander returning with firewood. His feathers were clean, and there was no trace of the blood that had dried to his arms and chest. That chest…
A few small birds chirped their morning melody. “So, what now?” Fia asked, patting at her bandage as she sat up.
“We find the nearest witch coven and ask them how we get you home.” It was Alexander who replied, but he didn’t look at her as he spoke.
“How many of these windows are there?” Fia pushed herself to her feet, testing the strength of her arms and legs.
“We don’t know.” Alexander tidied the camp, still avoiding her gaze. “Angels have always used the windows to travel to Earth. In all my years, I’ve never known of any other passing through to Earth. Only of those who fall into Ohinyan. Few survive.” He threw dirt over the fire, busying himself as he spoke. “The airship took you far off the course of the coven Noor was leading you to, but there is a city, Turaunt, a few days’ travel from here, where we should be able to find out where the nearest coven is.”
A city. Water glistened through the bushes in the morning light, and Fia felt as if all the dirt and grime of the past few days was embedded in her skin.
“I need a minute,” she said and strode off towards the water without waiting for a response. She kicked off her shoes and tested the strength in her arm by picking them up. Malachai was right; the pain had eased, although her shoulder ached a little. She took off her clothes and the little pouch that Noor had given her, looking around her once or twice as she did so, and submerged herself in the stream. It was deeper than it looked but perfectly clear and cool, and she clenched her teeth together as she sunk into the cold. She soaked her matted hair, pulling the bandage from
her head that Altair had wrapped around it a few days before. Then she scrubbed at the dried blood on her arms and hands, turning the water around her a rusty red. Satisfied, she floated on her back, looking at the sky.
At the edges of her vision, she could see both banks of the stream, lined with trees, and the small opening she had come through to enter the water. The sky was light, but soft, wispy clouds filled the space above her with a fluffy patchwork of white. Is it spring here? Do they even have seasons like Earth?
So much had happened, and she wished for nothing more than to talk to Sophie about it. Her name sent that familiar ball of pain twisting and throbbing in her stomach. What is wrong with you? Just ask why you’re here.
She thought of the way Alexander’s muscles disappeared below the waist of his loose trousers, of how he’d brushed the hair away from her face, of his hands on her skin, and she bit down on her lip at the memory of it. You really hit your head, didn’t you?
“Fia…” a voice called to her. One that she was certain she’d heard before back in Altair’s tent. The voice was far, far away, and suddenly the thought of her feet not touching solid ground filled her with dread.
Then she heard a woman’s voice followed by a man’s, quarrelling, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She left the stream, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. She dressed in a hurry, carefully tucking Noor’s pouch back inside her top. That voice…She wrung out her dripping hair, combed her fingers through it a few times, and carried her shoes and socks with her back to where she’d left Alexander and Malachai. She’d almost counted to one hundred by the time she’d made her way back to them, her breaths still catching in her throat.
“Better?” Malachai asked as Fia approached. He was alone, sitting by the remains of the fire. Everything had been cleared away, and Alexander was nowhere to be seen. Of course he left, why would he stay? He’s got bigger responsibilities than this.
“Much,” Fia replied, as she twisted her wet hair around her fingers. Malachai threw her a cloth. She leant forwards, wrapped the towel around her hair, and tossed her hair over her head to dry it. When she looked up, Alexander had returned. She felt her cheeks flush as their eyes met, and she quickly looked away.
“Time to go,” he said.
“Wait, I heard people arguing, down by the stream, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. A man and a woman,” Fia was rushing her words. It had been strange, and she’d left the stream in a hurry for fear of being seen.
“That’s impossible,” replied Malachai, “we’ve searched the entire area several times, and there’s no one here. No one has passed by here for days.”
“We better check it out. We stay together,” Alexander said.
But even as they made their way down to the water, it was clear there was no one around.
Fia said nothing. You’re not here by chance. Noor’s words echoed in her head.
“When are you going to tell me why I’m here?” she asked.
Alexander dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s for the coven to tell you.” He avoided her gaze as he led the way towards Turaunt.
Chapter Nine
Fia
They’d been walking all day. The sun was already beginning to disappear beyond the horizon, and three small moons were visible in the sky. Two small and one large, they glowed softly against a strawberry pink background. Fia lost her footing, mesmerised at the sight.
“Fia, are you okay?” Alexander reached out, but pulled his arm back as Malachai steadied her.
“Fine, I just…need to sit for a while,” she replied, her voice shaky. A shiver travelled down her spine and shook her even in the pit of her stomach. “Wouldn’t it be quicker to fly to Turaunt?”
“It’s too dangerous.” Alexander waited beside her as she pressed her hands to her knees and breathed in deeply through her nose. “We’d be too exposed and vulnerable to an attack if we carried you.” He dragged a hand through his hair as he spoke.
Fia opened her mouth to speak but thought better of it. Alexander looked away. She’d told Alexander everything as they’d walked, from seeking out the coven with the Lady Noor to the moment the Shadow had caught her, tumbling from the seed pod. As soon as Malachai leaves, I’ll get some answers from Alexander.
Alexander had listened carefully to her explanation. Why is he so hard to read? Yesterday he’s stroking my hair, and today he’s…sulking? Fia felt her cheeks redden as she tried to untangle her thoughts. He was a leader of angels, in the middle of a war, his responsibilities were greater than she could imagine. But she’d felt something, a connection. Had he felt it, too?
He'd stayed—that’s what Noor had said. He’d stayed after Sophie died. Why? Fia stole a glance at his face, but it gave nothing away. He appeared deep in thought, his lips pressed into a firm line, strands of hair billowing around his face.
“There’s a cave ahead, Sire, it opens out into a grotto with fresh water. A good place to stop for the night,” Malachai said. Fia had been so engrossed in her thoughts she hadn’t even noticed he’d left.
“Very well,” Alexander replied.
Does he ever wear a shirt? Fia exhaled a deep breath. Just be normal, Fia. You’ve known him for what, two, three days? She’d already lost count of how long she’d been in Ohinyan. But it hadn’t just been two or three days—it had been him all along on Earth, since Sophie—she just hadn’t known he was real.
By the time they reached the cave, her legs ached as if she’d been in one of her training sessions with Jo. Her head didn’t throb, and her arm was sore, but it was bearable. The narrow entrance gave way to a long, winding passage of stone opening out into a large chamber. Stretched out before them in the expanse of the grotto was a cluster of trees across a bed of green moss, beside which a small brook bubbled and swirled. From high above them in the cave, a narrow shaft of light shone directly onto the trees like a golden spotlight.
Fia made her way to the edge of the mossy area by the brook, slumping beneath the nearest tree. Her fingers pressed down into soft, dry moss. She focused on the texture. Why couldn’t anyone give a straight answer? Why am I here…what aren’t they telling me? Did it have something to do with Sophie?
Malachai and Alexander prepared the area for them to sleep and built a fire. They showed no signs of exhaustion; she didn’t think either of them had slept the night before. They laughed as they worked, care-free conversation passing between them.
Fia turned away, disguising Noor’s pouch as she removed it from her neck and emptied its contents onto the moss at her feet. She didn’t know why, but she felt like the contents were for her eyes only. She’d studied it earlier, but only briefly, when they’d stopped for water. It was a small, black flower, carved of stone, no bigger than her thumbnail with a smooth, shiny surface and cold to the touch, even though it had been close to her body all day. The detail was incredible. It should have been fragile with such fine, dainty leaves, but they were hard and strong with no signs of wear. It was like a rose or a dahlia when held one way, or a narcissus or tulip when held another. It could be almost any flower at all, Fia realised, depending on which way she held it.
“Fia,” Alexander called to her as he approached, and she stuffed the little flower back into its pouch and concealed it in her sleeve before he was beside her. “How are you feeling?” he asked. He crouched low but kept his distance.
Fia flexed her arm where Malachai had sealed her wound. “Not bad, he did a good job,” she said, flicking her chin in Malachai’s direction.
Alexander looked to his friend and huffed a quiet laugh. “I couldn’t have asked for a better right hand.”
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but aren’t you a little young to be a leader? You can’t be much older than me.”
Alexander laughed again, but the sound was choked, like all the times she had to go along with an awful joke a customer had told her at the coffee shop. He rubbed at his neck and seemed to consider his words. “I’m twenty-one. I
took the role for—for someone else.” He smiled, but it was a tight, polite smile. “Our meal will be ready soon.” He was already on his feet, striding back towards Malachai.
He took the role for someone else. What did that mean? The responsibility seemed to weigh heavily on him. The way he considered every response, in every command he gave to Malachai. The lack of answers was beginning to grow old, and Fia clenched her jaw tight instead of slamming a fist into the tree beside her.
Dinner was brief, the same meat they’d had the night before, likely more rabbit. She watched as Alexander and Malachai busied themselves with various tasks. “Let me help with something.” She was restless, and it had been nothing like camping with Sophie.
Malachai smiled. “Thank you, but I enjoy preparing food.” He topped up the fire and prepared another rabbit he’d caught earlier. No doubt they’d be eating the meat for breakfast.
Alexander attended to his weapons, checking each arrow and testing the strings of his bow as he looked for signs of damage. Archery had always been on Fia’s bucket list, ever since she’d been given a plastic bow and arrow as a child. She and Sophie had spent hours chasing each other around the park pretending to be fairies. That was a lifetime ago.
From the ground up, Alexander’s bow reached higher than Fia’s waist and was like frosted glass. It had a milky, cloudy quality to it, so it wouldn’t reflect the light and give away their position. The ends of the arrows had the distinguishable white feathers of his wings. When he seemed satisfied, Alexander left the bow behind to speak with Malachai.
Fia leapt up, grabbing the weapon and pulling back on the string. Without an arrow, she looked ahead at an invisible target. It was much heavier than she expected, but she was strong and held it high.
“This bow has been made for me, considering my height, weight and, strength.” Alexander was beside her. She hadn’t heard him approach. “But I can show you how to use it until we can get you a bow more suited to you.” His strong arms and broad shoulders had made it look easy.
The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One) Page 7
