The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One)

by Victoria J. Price

  “What can you see?”

  “I don’t know. It looks like a large wild cat or a shadow of one,” Fia whispered. The rumbling they’d heard moments before emanated from the creature, now a low, threatening growl. “It doesn’t seem very friendly.”

  Alexander followed her gaze. “It’s a Senkah, a dark, twisted thing. They hunt the great Shadows that fly across Ohinyan—like the one that saved you from the airship. We need to keep moving, there will be more.” He ushered her onwards across the bridge. “We need to stay on higher ground.”

  Fia nodded. Towards the end of the bridge, the side wall crossed with another, reaching up into the clouds. She leapt onto the edge, avoiding the loose crumbling stones, and pulled herself up onto the next bridge. They made it halfway across in the darkness before more growls resonated from behind them. Fia spun around and out of the fog stepped a group of Senkahs, heads low to the ground and baring large, white teeth. A guttural growl sounded from their throats.

  “Fia, run,” Alexander shouted, shooting an arrow at the first Senkah. The creature dispersed into a thick, black cloud of air, before reforming into its full, feline shape, the arrow splashing into the water beyond it. Fia didn’t wait for the next arrow—she ran, clambering up across heavy stones as fast as her feet could carry her, until she heard another splash and stopped to scan the fog for Alexander.

  “Alexander!” She couldn’t see him or hear him, and panic caught in her throat. She climbed back down the bridge, but there was no sign of him or the Senkahs. Her bow drawn, Fia made her way back down to ground level, adjusting her eyes to the heavy fog. She stepped with caution through the inky water, calling Alexander’s name in the darkness.

  She heard a splash, and then she saw him, wrestling in the water with four Senkahs, striking out at them with the end of his bow. They became one black shadow as they dragged him, thrashing and kicking through the shallow water.

  Fia shot an arrow into the mass of shadows. Then she shot another and another until one hit a solid form, and the creatures released him.

  She shot her last arrow and ran, back to the safety of the bridge, but they were too fast—a Senkah had crept up behind her. It caught her by the leg of her jeans with its teeth, dragging her face down into the shallows of the dark water. She twisted and kicked out as hard she could, reaching for an arrow, but there were none left, and she thrust the end of her bow into its eye. It screamed with pain, releasing her, and then she was alone again in the filthy water.

  “Alexander!” Soaking and shaking, she spun around looking for him. She ran back to the nearest bridge as Alexander’s body slammed into the stone bricks beside her in a tangle of black smoke and teeth. The bridge began to shake and within seconds, Alexander was on his feet, his wings flexed to their fullest, the force of them scattering the Senkahs away from him. He leapt into the air, pulling Fia into his arms, just as the Senkahs lunged towards them.

  “Hold on,” he shouted against the wind, and Fia pressed her face against him. His wings beat as they flew fast into the heavy fog. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, or was it Alexander’s?

  Wind whipped against her face and her eyes streamed. She gazed up at Alexander’s face, spotting the unmistakeable glisten of blood. “You’re bleeding!”

  “It will heal,” he replied, pushing on into the grey.

  When the fog cleared, Alexander landed on solid ground. They were high above Bridgevale, beneath a dark sky of glittering stars, looking back down into the dense fog. Fia was stiff and dizzy as Alexander gently sat her against a rock.

  “Are you well?” he asked, his eyes full of concern. A hand brushed her cheek.

  She shivered, her wet clothes sticking to her.

  “Come on,” Alexander said, “we can’t stop here. The Senkahs are strong climbers.” He held her again, flying fast into the cold night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fia

  It was dawn when they arrived in Ikothea.

  “Fia, we’re here,” Alexander said, landing with a few soft steps at the outskirts of the city.

  She put her feet on the ground, her cheeks flushing at the realisation that she’d fallen asleep in his arms. How long had she been asleep? She stretched her arms out, shaking her feet one after the other, as she looked around, smoothing down her nest of hair. There were buildings—skyscrapers even—enormous structures that rose all around them. They were made of metal and glass with the familiar large bolts and panels she’d seen on the airship and back in Turaunt.

  “You flew all night?” She turned to examine him, searching for damage caused by the Senkahs—the cut on his face had healed. He was right; he did heal fast.

  “I’m fine.” He smiled, but it seemed strained. Morning sunlight shone brightly between gaps in the buildings, illuminating his wings as he folded them behind him. “Let’s go and find some breakfast.”

  The air was thick. Fia’s hair pressed against her neck and she scooped it up into a bun. There were people and creatures and things everywhere. The buildings were denser here, with wild, climbing skyscrapers right next to tiny little buildings as small as shacks. Some were modular and twisting. Some were fluid, like waves ascending into the sky. Fia’s gaze darted everywhere, taking it all in. Skyscrapers disappeared into blue-green water, with walkways and bridges intersecting at different levels.

  People pushed past them as they walked, rushing about their morning business. A woman with dark, leathery skin like an old chestnut stood behind a herd of creatures, urging them onwards. They were larger than cows and docile, with long, shaggy hair like a buffalo. But there weren’t just people in all shapes, sizes, and colours. There were creatures, too, walking around, clothed and on two feet, talking to each other, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, just like in Turaunt.

  Fia caught Alexander watching her, a wide grin across his face, and she laughed at him.

  A man with scales for skin lifted a tattered bag over his shoulder. He threw his hands up in frustration at a child rushing past him, flicking his tongue out between a tightly closed mouth. A whiskered woman laughed and joked with a food vendor, swishing her long, furry tail out the back of her coat and trembling with laughter.

  Snippets of conversation carried to them across the noise—some words Fia could make out, to her surprise, but others were just gibberish.

  Enormous metal tricycles taller than a house cycled through the busy pathways, with two riders atop of each, and a great cargo of cartons and sacks piled high behind them. As soon as they passed through the streets, a swarm of people filled the empty space behind them.

  There were street vendors everywhere—men with coats full of metal contraptions, all ticking and winding, and women pulling little wagons of food behind them, shouting at people to get out of the way. Giggling children brushed by Fia and Alexander, their arms full to bursting with colourful fruit.

  Green birds flew in the sky above them, scavenging for scraps of food in the busy streets and diving down to grab a piece of fruit from the children’s hands, before flying away into a flurry of other birds fighting for their find.

  “It’s so hot here,” Fia said, tying the wrap around her waist as Alexander stopped beside a cart. She’d been wearing a khaki top she’d found back in Jonas’s place. Together with the boots and the hunting pack, she blended in a little better, even if her tattered jeans stood out.

  “It’s the buildings.” Alexander pointed to one as it turned slowly. “The internal mechanics create a lot of heat.”

  Fia watched in awe as the building continued to twist, its entire silhouette changing shape in front of them, from the base to the top. “What’s powering them? What’s powering the whole city?” Ikothea was nothing like London. It was unlike any city she had ever visited.

  Alexander handed over a few coins to the old woman beside the cart with a smile. “The skyscrapers have wind turbines between each of the floors and as they change shape, they catch a lot of wind. The glass is like your solar panels
, using the energy from the sun. Each building powers several blocks around it. There has never been a power shortage. Here.” He handed her a small, steaming parcel.

  “Incredible.” Fia took the warm parcel from Alexander’s hands and unwrapped the tea-coloured paper. Inside it was a sweet bread, freshly baked, the smell mouth-watering. She ate it in large mouthfuls, the soft, buttery dough tasted of cinnamon, orange, and chocolate.

  Alexander ate his own as they walked, stopping at another street vendor, identical to the last. To this one, he handed over a few more dirty, copper coins, and passed Fia a brick-red cylinder, steam escaping from the top.

  “Try this.”

  It was like hot chocolate, but creamier and thicker. Alexander finished his quickly, and threw the red cylinder into a gutter, shattering it into hundreds of tiny pieces.

  “It’s clay, and the birds will take it for their nests,” he said, following Fia’s gaze to the red shards. She finished her drink before throwing her own little cup into the gutter. Just as Alexander had said, green birds flew down, and within seconds all the clay fragments were gone.

  Everything really did have a cycle here. They pressed on through the bustling streets, and Fia soaked it all in. The glass on the buildings reflected the morning light, and the streets felt bright and brilliant, despite all the chaos. More tricycles passed, but this time instead of a cargo load, they carried passengers. Hundreds of people sat in the back as it wheeled through the crowds.

  Fia and Alexander stepped up onto one of the walkways. All kinds of animals were being sold in cages: birds, rabbits, reptiles, and a number of furry things Fia couldn’t name. Every now and again, she thought she heard a cry for help, but she couldn’t tell which cages the cries came from. What could she do? She had no money, no way of knowing they wouldn’t just be captured again. Up ahead, a crowd gathered around a man standing on the edge of the walkway. He was poised and ready to jump off, but as they approached, they could hear his voice over the noise of the city.

  “The end is coming! Repent your sins! When the sun dies, we die, and all Ohinyan with it. The great cycle will end!” the man shouted, thrusting his hands into the air as he spoke, waving them wildly at the sun. The people below him mumbled and muttered to each other, and eventually the crowd began to disperse back into the flow of the city.

  “What was that about?” Fia asked, as they walked past the man and the dissolving crowd.

  “He’s a vendor,” Alexander replied.

  Fia turned back to see the man darting through his disappearing crowd, selling mechanical paraphernalia, bottles of dark liquids, fruits, and cages full of birds.

  “So, you think Altair is still here?” Fia stepped around a group of children rushing by with loose rope sacks full of fruit.

  “Altair, and some friends.” Alexander looked as if he might have said more, but he smiled instead. It was a comfortable smile, and Fia sunk into the easiness that had fallen between them.

  The walkway widened into a large open space, with more of the strange buildings lining one side, and on the other, a fleet of ships. They’d reached what looked like a dockyard. The area in front of them was the busiest in the city, piled high with hundreds of crates and sacks that Fia had seen the tricycles carrying. Here the passengers dismounted the tricycles, making their way up winding wooden walkways onto the ships and handing over a paper ticket to a guardsman before stepping on board.

  People scurried beneath the tricycles as they crossed the bustling expanse. Women shouted at their animals as they heaved them onto the vessels. A young boy wheezed as he tried to push a black bear twice his size onto one of the ships, but the bear sat steadfast on the ramp, crying out at the little boy.

  The ships had copper coloured hulls, with the familiar panels Fia now recognised as an integral part of the structures here, and torn white sails that men scrambled across to repair whilst they were anchored.

  The heat, the noise, the scent of the ocean mixed with the smell of the mechanical buildings, the street vendors and the animals—it was like nothing she’d ever seen.

  “Alexander!” a voice shouted out over the crowds. It was Malachai. Two other angels stood beside him, a male and a female. Alexander led her beneath the great metal wheels of a tricycle, crossing the busy expanse to greet the others.

  “Malachai,” he said, grasping his friend’s arm in his.

  Malachai flashed a bright smile at Fia.

  “Sire,” said the male beside Malachai, bowing his head as Malachai had done. He didn’t even cast his eyes in Fia’s direction. The woman beamed at them both.

  “Fia, this is Runa, Malachai’s wife, and Oren, her nephew,” Alexander said.

  Fia nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  Runa smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Fia.” She held Fia lightly by the shoulders as she spoke. Runa was a whole head in height above Fia, with a gentleness that matched Malachai’s.

  The angels talked. They were grander, more magnificent, brighter, somehow, than their surroundings. Runa had darker skin than the others, with an ochre, reddish hue that seemed to radiate pearlescent light. Her long, dark hair fell in thick waves around her small face, too small for her bright green eyes. Her clothes were of the same hemp as the others, but she wore a wrap and a sleeveless top that laced up at the front like Fia’s. Runa was barefoot, too. Her only adornment was the wide, gold cuff she wore around her wrist, a perfect match to Malachai’s.

  Oren was nothing like his aunt. Fia caught him once or twice glancing at her before looking away. He contributed to the conversation now and then, but only looked at Runa as he spoke, as if the rest of them weren’t there. His emerald green eyes seemed to be the only feature he shared with her. He looked about the same age as her, too, early twenties, if Fia had to guess.

  Malachai reported Makya sightings, updates from patrol posts, and information passed on from individual witches. “There hasn’t been a big attack since Turaunt, Sire. But we’ve heard rumours that Lorn and her brothers have left the council.”

  Alexander’s brow furrowed deeply but he said nothing, a silent nod his only response to Malachai’s report.

  Runa took Fia gently by the arm. “Alexander, can I borrow Fia to get some provisions? We’ll return shortly.”

  “Thank you, that would help a great deal,” Alexander replied.

  Fia glanced shyly at the others as Runa pulled her away into the crowds.

  “Why do I get the feeling I don’t want to hear about Lorn?” Fia asked.

  Runa led the way past another of the tricycles unloading dozens of passengers. “I hope you don’t mind heights.” She ushered Fia into a glass room at the entrance to one of the buildings. She tucked her wings tightly behind herself and pushed a button, launching them upwards. At first they were on the outer wall, and Fia could still make out the figures of Alexander and the others below, but as the building twisted, the lift turned to face the centre of the structure, exposing great metal cogs and huge wind turbines of shiny copper metal. Runa pressed another button and the lift stopped, facing them towards a dark corridor between two sections of the winding skyscraper. The glass doors slid open, and Runa grabbed Fia’s hand as she stepped out. London was beginning to feel like a distant memory.

  “Lorn, along with her two brothers, is a member of the Makya council. The council comprises of twelve members, and they all believe that Lorn is the great Fire Mother, descendant of Terah, the first Makya. Many believe that Terah could hold the power of the sun in her hands, giving and taking life as she wished. Lorn believes that she will have that power when our sun dies.”

  “That’s terrifying.” Fia said, as they walked down a dark corridor lit in a few places with flickering lamps. Dark patterned fabric draped across the ceilings and walls. Every so often, they passed a doorway, swathed heavily in more fabric, voices coming from within. “But there’s more, right?”

  “The angels attempted to set up an alliance with the Makya, in anticipation of our dying sun and th
e atmospheric changes it would bring. Alexander and his father were involved in the talks with the council, and Lorn…favoured Alexander. She felt that as he was the descendant of the first angel, and she was the descendant of the first Makya, that they were somehow meant for each other. She let her emotions get the better of her and began to convince the council that the alliance was a good idea.”

  Alexander and a Makya woman. The smoke from Turaunt still clung to Fia’s clothes, and the thought of them together turned her stomach. “An alliance, that’s a good thing, right?”

  “Right,” Runa replied. “Except that when Lorn tried to discuss matters of a more…personal nature with Alexander, he refused her. Lorn was furious, and, well, things didn’t end well.”

  The heavy scent of incense filled the corridor, carried towards them by the turbines. “Why did he refuse her?” Because it was too dangerous, or because he wasn’t attracted to Lorn? Fia’s cheeks flushed with shame at the thought. Who he’d been attracted to in the past was none of her business. Who he’s attracted to now is none of your business, either.

  “Lorn is a very dark individual. Alexander knows better than anyone that we each have the capacity for darkness within us. But Lorn, over the years, has let it overcome her. Erebus may have been whispering to her for a long time, who can say.”

  Fia’s palms turned clammy, fear crept up her legs, and she willed them to stay strong. Telling them all that you can hear Erebus will come to no good. You’re leaving soon anyway, so why trouble them with it?

  “Here.” Runa drew back on a fabric-draped doorway, identical to the last, and ushered Fia into the room.

  It was a shop—only slightly brighter than the corridor outside, with a few more oil lamps dotted around. From floor to ceiling, there were shelves piled high with items: metal instruments, clothing, packs, weapons, and small animals in cages. Everything from the city outside and more was stacked high around them.