Altair joined them. “We owe you our thanks, Fia, Hani is well. He’s resting with his mother.” He clasped Fia’s hands and gave her a warm smile. “Let us be grateful that we are all safe,” he said, his face solemn. Silence fell over them for a moment, as they sat listening to the sounds of the storm dying down outside.
“The Sorren are not immune to Erebus’s whispers,” Altair said. “We must expect stranger things to come. Times are changing, and there will not be one person, animal or creature in Ohinyan, that will not feel it. We must be ready when the sun dies, for whatever Erebus has planned for us.”
“Alexander, why don’t you help Fia back to her cabin? She ought to change out of those wet clothes.” Runa’s eyes sparkled with mischief, but Altair’s words echoed in Fia’s ears.
She counted her breaths as Alexander led her through the ship. He didn’t touch her, but he stayed close. The corridors blurred into one, and Fia pushed her damp hair from her face.
How long would it be until Erebus could affect her like he had the Makya? The idea that she could help—could make a difference here—could she, really? One, two, three. Alexander opened the door to her cabin and stood to one side to let her in. She threw the blanket on the bed. One, two, three. She peeled off the woollen wrap, and it fell to the floor with a wet smack. She sat on the bed, lay back, and looked up at the wooden ceiling, pressing at the corners of her eyes as she let out a breath.
The bed dipped as Alexander sat down beside her.
Strands of wet, earth-coloured hair fell across his face, and she resisted the urge to brush it away from his eyes.
“I’m sorry for bringing you in to all of this,” he said. His wings arched up behind his shoulders, swooping low around him as he sat. It was fascinating how malleable they were.
She wanted to run her hand down his feathers, but instead she pushed herself up, catching the scent of the forest mixing with seawater. He was much closer than she’d realised.
“It doesn’t matter how I got here.” She took his hand in hers. “I’m here.”
Their faces were inches apart, and Fia was certain the sound of her heartbeat was so loud he could hear it, too. He brushed a strand of wet hair from her eyes, and she leaned into his touch as his hand lingered. And then his lips were on hers, a soft, open-mouthed kiss, and for a moment, Fia forgot about Erebus and getting back to London. She twisted her hands through Alexander’s hair as heat flushed in her chest.
Alexander pulled back, and she held his gaze, and then his eyes dropped to look down at her mouth. “You should get some rest,” he murmured, already on his feet. “Goodnight.”
The door clicked shut behind him, and Fia was alone in her tiny cabin, nothing but the sound of her heart beating in her ears.
Going back to London meant saying goodbye. It meant leaving him behind, too.
Chapter Seventeen
Noor
High above Ohinyan, somewhere in the skies not far from Ikothea, travelled the Makya airship. Suspended above the loading bay, in one of the tiny wooden seed pods, lay the Lady Noor, listening to the sounds of Makya and Aurelli below her.
Several nights had passed since her escape from the cell, and she was almost fully recovered, physically and mentally. The pod was small and cramped, but lying there had given her time to heal her wounds and understand what the Makya were doing. Only the padded footsteps and the clicking and scuffing of objects dragging across the loading bay floor indicated the Aurelli’s presence.
Her thoughts wandered to Silla, of his stormy blues eyes, speckled with amber, staring back at hers. Eyes she would never gaze into again. That the witches might take her back was of little importance, but if it meant that she could clear her name and clear Silla’s name…It was a glimmer of light in the coming darkness. One she held tightly to her chest as she listened to the Makya below her.
A voice she recognised only too well entered the loading bay, arguing with another. Perhaps an opportunity had arisen, finally.
“I expect you to be by my side for the duration of your shift. Is that so much to ask?” Lorn demanded.
“No, great Fire Mother, of course not,” a guard replied.
Lorn ignited. “Don’t placate me,” she cried. The heat of her outburst flickered at the sides of Noor’s pod. “My brothers will be back soon. Get out of my sight and send a replacement.”
Noor couldn’t miss the opportunity to follow Lorn, so she slid quietly out of the pod into the loading bay, projecting the illusion of herself as a Makya guard, just as the one Lorn had been talking to made her way behind the pods and out of sight.
“What?” Lorn spat, as Noor caught up with her in the corridor.
Noor opened her mouth to speak.
“Never mind. As you were,” Lorn said, seething, as she led them through the ship.
Noor followed and let out a breath. She’d gotten away with it, for now. The familiar smells of the ship carried through the corridors as they walked; oil, ash, hints of the forest, and the sweat and stench of soldiers. Noor was sick of it and longed to be on a glider, breathing in the fresh Ohinyan air.
Lorn returned to the great chamber. The enormous flags bearing the Makya emblem seemed much newer than the ones Noor had seen previously. Aside from a few charred marks here and there, the room showed few traces of Lorn’s outburst from a few days before.
Lorn stared once more into the flames of the metal urn. They flickered and twisted, turning into the writhing bodies of Fia and Alexander in a passionate embrace, just as they had days before. Lorn raised her arms, and Noor prepared to run or to dive behind the safety of the urn.
“Sister dear,” Jerum called from the doorway.
Noor willed her heartbeat to calm. If he’d been even a second later…
Raiaan followed closely behind his brother, and behind him was…an angel.
Noor didn’t recognise the angel. His emerald green eyes were striking, but his lips pressed together firmly, and his face had drained of colour. What part did an angel have here, with the Makya? It was without Alexander’s knowing, surely.
“Brothers, tell me of your victory.” Lorn sat leisurely in one of the enormous thrones at the back of the chamber. Her fists clenched as the angel approached.
“A half victory, sister,” Raiaan muttered.
“You.” Lorn was on her feet at once, circling the angel. “Dearest Oren, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“We were not aware of Ikothea’s defences,” Oren began, as Lorn rested a hand lightly on one of his crisp, white wings. He recoiled but Lorn’s hand remained.
“Not aware?” she whispered. Her eyes flickered. “Awareness is what you were there for.” She sent fire from her palm directly onto Oren’s wing. The angel frantically patted at his smouldering feathers, crying out in pain.
“Lorn, please.” Raiaan stepped forwards, placing himself between his sister and the angel. “We have learned much of use.” He updated his sister on all that had transpired on the docks of Ikothea.
So Fia didn’t find a coven. Where had all the witches gone? Noor thought of all the places Fia must have been to get to Ikothea. There were at least two covens she knew of in those areas, or at least there were.
“Why is Alexander heading south?” Lorn approached Oren again, as he clasped his burnt wing.
“I don’t know…to find more witches, I think. He isn’t really focused. His main concern is getting the girl back home to Earth,” Oren replied, avoiding eye contact.
The girl. Not just any girl. It was imperative that Lorn did not find out just how important Fia was.
Lorn’s eyes blazed, sparks of rage visible from Noor’s post at the door.
“Very well.” Lorn clenched her fists into tight balls behind her back. “We have been looking for Alythia, and we need you to take us there.” She faced Oren again as he paled further.
“I…I can’t,” Oren said. “It isn’t possible.”
Lorn stood before him, hands at her sides with her palm
s facing upwards, flames towering out of them, ready to be thrown about the room.
“Please, it isn’t possible for me to take you—only angels can enter Alythia.”
“Liar.” Lorn threw her arms in the air, jets of fire blazing from her palms, scorching the ceiling. “I will give you only one more opportunity to tell me. Where. Is. It?”
Oren shook his head, green eyes gazing at the floor. “I’m sorry, it just isn’t possible.”
Lorn let out a piercing screech as she projected every last inch of fire emanating from her hands towards the angel. Oren fell to the floor, writhing in pain as he burned. Noor didn’t dare flinch.
“Lorn,” Raiaan said, shoving her hand away. “We needed him.”
“We don’t need anyone,” Lorn replied. “We will lead our people. As the sun dies, the days are getting shorter. I grow stronger, and we will control more than we ever dreamed possible. All of Ohinyan will answer to us.”
“Lorn, we have discussed this. Only when Ohinyan is in total darkness will we be ready to strike, before the birth of the third sun, only then will we be at our strongest,” Jerum reasoned with his sister, as the angel lay dying on the floor beside them. He made choked sounds and turned his face away from them. Noor could do nothing but look on from her post as Oren grasped at the last few moments of his life. She could not interfere, not yet.
“Total darkness will be months from now. We need to strike now. I am the strongest I have ever been.” Lorn threw her palms to the ceiling once more, covering the walls above them in a blanket of fire. Noor ignored the deafening voice in her head urging her to run, far away.
“Perhaps we should continue this debate later, sister, when you are a little calmer?” Raiaan interjected.
Lorn ceased her inferno, opening her mouth to speak, before closing it, and storming out of the great chamber. Jerum and Raiaan exchanged a look before following in silence without so much as a glance back to where Oren lay.
Once she was certain everyone had left, Noor walked quietly towards the burnt body of the angel.
“Please, no more. I can take no more,” he coughed out the words as she approached.
It was an unpleasant sight, but Noor had seen many unpleasant things. His wings had no feathers left, exposing sinewy muscle and bone that blistered in the aftermath. She did not step down to comfort him—it was a witch’s nature to despise disloyalty, and there was no time for him to make amends. Why would he betray his brothers and sisters?
“I am not as I appear,” she murmured. “I will torture you no further.”
“No more, I beg of you,” Oren spluttered. His face was not as badly burnt as the rest of him, but the effort of talking had him clutching at his chest, struggling for air.
“There is nothing I can do for you now.” It was true. Noor could create a peaceful illusion for him, but she couldn’t heal the severity of his wounds. It was too late. “Why did you betray your fellow angels?”
Oren’s eyes flickered as he fought to keep them open. The beginning of a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth but didn’t quite make it to the other side. “I wanted more.” He fell onto his side, coughing up a mouthful of blood. “I was tired of taking orders. Everyone looks up to Alexander, as if he has all the answers. And for what? Because it is his birthright? I wanted to prove that he didn’t, and that the Makya were the way forward with the coming of the new sun. That I could be a leader.” He coughed again, wiping at the blood from his mouth.
“A true leader stands amongst his people, always. Never ahead of them. That is why people look up to Alexander.” Noor passed Oren a rag to wipe at his mouth. “Jealousy can turn the best of us into monsters.” She knelt beside him, taking in his mutilated form.
Burns covered most of his body, far too much to heal without assistance. It was no way to die. The dark room around them transformed into a brilliant blue sky, and Oren was no longer lying face down on the metal floor but on a soft, white cloud. His wings and hands were not burnt, and all traces of blood were gone. Noor was no longer disguised as a Makya guard but appeared before him as herself.
“You’re a…you’re a witch.” It was a statement. “Thank you,” he whispered. She knew he meant it. “I didn’t know about the attack in Ikothea. I didn’t think they were going to act so quickly—but now, now it’s too late. I cannot take back what I have done.” He looked at his hands, searching for the burns concealed by Noor’s illusion.
“You kept the location of Alythia unknown to them, and that is something to be proud of.” Had all of this only ever been about finding Alythia? But why? Had Erebus commanded it?
Oren forced a weak smile, and as his eyes closed, she watched his spirit drift away from him and sink, down through the clouds with the weight of what he had done. As his spirit fell away from his body, the clouds disappeared, and they were surrounded once more by the gleaming metal of the great chamber. The stench of burning flesh filled Noor’s nostrils and she swallowed hard. She’d seen many deaths, but none deserved to die this way.
Noor rose, and without looking back at the dead angel, projected the illusion of herself as a Makya guard as she walked away to find the Aurelli. She had to act quickly. It was a risk to trust the Aurelli so soon, but after they had revealed their fears to her and helped her to escape, she had to try.
Is the council backing all of this?
Lorn and her brothers were behaving as if they were acting of their own accord, but even if they were, Erebus would be watching and waiting. Noor shuddered at the memory of his voice, whispering to Lorn in all her moments of weakness. How long would it be before he whispered to Noor, too?
She made her way to the loading bay and found the two Aurelli who controlled the doors. She showed them a sequence of illusions, asking them whether they would carry a message off the ship. They nodded as Noor’s illusion turned the loading bay into their beloved forest. It was so convincing Noor could smell the jasmine and fresh rain in the air. One began to purr, the other brushed up against its companion, and Noor knew at once they would do whatever it took to get back there.
Once she was satisfied the Aurelli understood her message, Noor resumed her patrol of the ship, her route taking her past Lorn’s chambers where she relieved the current guard of their duty.
“I’d stay out of her sight, if I was you,” the guard said before he scurried away down the corridor.
The door to Lorn’s chambers swung open. “You. In here, now.”
The bedframe was charred across one side, a rug on the floor beside it nothing but ash beneath Noor’s feet. But she held her composure, kept her eyes forward, and did not give any hint of a reaction to the mess Lorn had made around her.
Lorn paced her room, mumbling to herself. “A girl from Earth. Earth! And yet the Fire Mother and the descendant of Gabriel are destined for each other…Mother always told me it was so.” Her hands balled into fists at her sides, plumes of smoke drifting up from them as she paced.
“Tell me,” she said, looking Noor in the eye. “What could this Fia possibly offer Alexander that I cannot?”
Noor took in the shadows beneath Lorn’s eyes, the paleness of her skin. “Nothing, great Fire Mother.” She held her breath, bracing herself for Lorn to lose control.
“Then why not me?” Lorn spun to face a full-length mirror. “Am I not attractive? Am I not a pillar of strength?”
Lorn knew full well she was attractive. Even with smudges beneath her eyes and her lack of sleep, she was striking. She was twisted and tormented on the inside, but Noor could still admire the way her jumpsuit clung to her waist and her curves. Before Silla, there had been men and women. Amongst witches, it was not unusual. But appreciating beauty was one thing, being attracted to Lorn was entirely another.
“You are, great Fire Mother,” Noor replied, her eyes locked with Lorn’s in the mirror. She didn’t dare look away, if any action was seen as an insult, there would be no time to escape Lorn’s flames.
But Lorn spun around and steppe
d towards her, running her hand across the braid Noor had not concealed with her illusion. The gesture was gentle, and Lorn’s eyes flicked down for a moment before catching her gaze again, so close they could share a breath between them.
A knock sounded on the door and Lorn stepped back.
“Sister,” Jerum’s voice called from outside.
“Enter,” Lorn replied, spinning back to look at herself in the mirror. “You are dismissed,” she said to Noor, without so much as a glance in her direction.
Noor nodded as Jerum entered, and she left in silence, but she remained outside beside the door, listening in on the news the brother delivered. Her heartbeat drummed in her chest. Lorn was about to kiss her; she’d seen that look in someone’s eyes enough times to know it. Was Lorn so lonely that she’d lower herself to a guard? One kiss from her would be certain death—the Makya were well known for being uncontrollably…passionate.
“I’ve given instructions to follow Alexander and his party south to increase our chances of pursuing him to Alythia. If Alexander is so attached to this girl, perhaps we could use her to our advantage?” Jerum’s voice carried through the wall.
Hands clapped together inside the bedchambers. “Excellent. Yes, a wonderful idea. Why not take the girl and lure him out?” Lorn replied.
“I thought you might be pleased, sister. Will you be joining us for dinner?”
“Yes, of course, brother, I’ll be along shortly.” The door swung open, and Noor stood tall, her back to the wall, and her gaze fixed firmly ahead of her.
“I said you were dismissed,” Lorn hissed in her direction, as Jerum stepped out into the corridor.
Noor didn’t give Lorn a chance to engage in further conversation, and with a polite nod, she made her way in the opposite direction Jerum headed. The roar of flames echoed behind her, and she quickened her steps as she walked. Lorn was losing control of her powers, and there was no doubting her brothers were starting to notice it, too.
What good would any of her observations come to if she couldn’t manage to get a message off the ship? She poked her head into open doorways until she found a room occupied by two guards and a desk.
The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One) Page 15
