The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One)

by Victoria J. Price

  The streets were empty; all Makya old enough to fight would be in training, and the youngest would be at school. Noor had spent enough time in the city on her mission with Silla to learn the Makya’s routines and hear the gossip about Lorn.

  There were no vendors, no food stalls, and no signs of life. They approached the council building, an oddity even amongst the rest. It was round with a flat, level roof, several stories high, with more of the elaborate emerald shards stretching skywards. Shiny black pillars circled the boundary of the lower levels, intricately carved with all manner of creatures.

  Two guards stood on either side of the entranceway, metal staffs held firmly to their sides. “Your name, please,” one of them said as Lorn and her unit approached. Lorn flicked her red hair away from her face. The other guard cleared his throat. If he knew of his comrade’s mistake, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  A fool’s blunder.

  Lorn was silent, her smile sweet as she advanced. She was a scorpion waiting to strike. She touched her fingertips to the tip of the guard’s staff, circling him slowly. “My name?” she said. “You wish to know my name?”

  Noor braced herself, scanning her eyes left to right and searching for anywhere she could take cover without causing a scene.

  “Pardon me, ma’am, the council are expecting you,” the other guard began nervously.

  “How kind of them,” Lorn replied, tightening her grip around the staff.

  She laughed as she pressed on into the building, clenching her fists in tight balls at her sides. They smouldered into little puffs of smoke, and Noor readied herself for what was coming. She hung back behind the group as they entered the council chamber, putting as much distance between herself and Lorn as she could manage.

  The members of the Makya council stretched out around the perimeter of the room, ascending higher with each rank. Three empty seats remained where Lorn and her brothers had once sat. The floor of the room was sunken and low, swirling with bubbling lava. Lorn walked further into the chamber, stepping onto stones that stretched out into the centre of the magma, surrounded by the council members. From the central stone, she was slightly higher than the lowest ranked council member, but not as tall as the highest. Noor wondered if Lorn still longed to sit amongst them, to be a part of something so great.

  It was Lorn who spoke first. “Brothers and sisters of the council.” She turned to face each of them for the briefest of moments before continuing. Her voice bristled with mischief. “The time is almost upon us for the Makya to take our rightful place at the head of Ohinyan. I grow stronger with every sunset, and with the coming of the new sun, I will be reborn as the Fire Mother, as you have raised me. None will stand in our way.”

  “Lorn, my dear sister.” It was Par, the head of the council. She was as fierce as she was old. Noor had seen her wield her flames, disciplining twelve guards at once, and it was a terrifying sight to behold. But Par was level-headed, too, and well known throughout Ohinyan for her ability to negotiate—a concept which most Makya did not seem to grasp. News of how she had tried to protect Alexander and his father from Lorn’s outburst at the palace had spread quickly. “We still do not know these things for certain, and—”

  “If certainty is all you need, dear sister,” Lorn replied, throwing her arms above her head. The swirling lava rose around them, suspended perfectly in the air under Lorn’s control. She spiralled it with breath-taking accuracy around the council members, as if it were her own galaxy. It hung mere centimetres away from each council member, stunned to silence in their chairs.

  “As I said, we do not know these things for certain,” Par added, ignoring Lorn’s display.

  Lorn lost control of her demonstration, throwing lava around the council chamber in small eruptions and clumsy explosions.

  “The priorities of the Makya have changed over the years. You and your brothers have been disruptive for long enough.” Par glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the palace remains. “This is a time of great change in Ohinyan. You have damaged our coalition with the angels to the point where all communication has broken down entirely, and we must work to rebuild the relationships that were beginning to form. The time has come for us to unite.”

  Noor felt a flutter in her chest, like a butterfly trying to emerge from its chrysalis. Par’s words were a beacon of hope amongst so much darkness. The old woman knew what mattered.

  Lorn returned the lava, and it sloshed back into its resting place. “Unite? Do you not wish for the Makya to govern all of Ohinyan?”

  Par sighed. “A great darkness is escaping from Ohinyan. One that is taking advantage of our dying sun. Some say they have even heard its whispers. It is destroying all that it touches. If it is left to fester and spread, there will be nothing left of Ohinyan for us to govern.” Noor studied Par’s expression for any sign that Erebus had whispered to her, too.

  “Good,” Lorn replied, as another eruption of lava swirled around the council members. “Let it crash and burn. We only need Alythia. From there, we can govern all of Ohinyan.”

  “No!” Par’s voice resonated throughout the chamber, and as she spoke, she rose to her feet, embers and sparks trembling from her small frame. Her eyes grew brighter, and a small flicker of flames escaped from her fingertips. “We have tolerated your behaviour long enough. It is time for us to reconcile our differences, young Fire Mother, time for us to settle our wrong doings with the inhabitants of this world. We should have imprisoned you for destroying the palace, for the death of Zuriel—your punishment was too mild. We wrongly looked the other way when you launched your attacks, but now we ask this of you, so that you and your brothers might join the council once more. Reconcile with the angels, and together, remove this poison from Ohinyan.”

  Par sat down, her eyes returning to pools of black obsidian, and she was as fawn-like and tiny as she had been before.

  “Very well,” Lorn said, playing coolly with the lava, and emphasising each word with a flicker of flames. “I will meet with Alexander and reconcile with the angels as you wish. We will destroy the darkness together and ensure Ohinyan’s safety.” Lorn bowed for added effect.

  Surely, they don’t believe this? Par merely nodded in response, and Noor could feel her eyes following them as they left the chamber.

  Lorn took her time returning to the airship, and as they each readied a seed pod, she hissed at Noor and the other three guards. “Repeat a word of what you have witnessed, and I will eject you from the ship in a ball of molten lava. Understood?”

  Noor nodded. What game are you playing now? The pods spluttered to life, and the buildings of Nadar fell away from them. As the ship’s loading bay opened, the thought of sending the pod back to solid ground crossed her mind, but there was still too much to be done.

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” Lorn shouted at Noor. “Get the pod secure!”

  Noor anchored the little pod to the loading bay moments after they landed.

  “You, with me,” Lorn demanded.

  Jerum and Raiaan could be heard not far from the loading bay, disciplining some of the Aurelli.

  “Sister,” Jerum exclaimed, subduing the flames circling the terrified Aurelli. They fled as soon as Jerum’s head was turned. “Tell us of your visit to the council, dear sister.” His eyes flared to a deep red.

  Noor dutifully followed as they made their way to the great chamber. Lorn gave details of a successful visit to the council, and her brothers beamed in response. “We are to continue south, with the full support of the council.”

  Noor coughed back a laugh. You deceitful creature…

  “Well done, Lorn,” Jerum replied. “With the council behind us, it won’t be long before we have access to Alythia, and things will start to change for us, for the better.” He turned to leave the antechamber and Raiaan followed.

  “Enough.” Lorn threw her arms into the air followed by a burst of flames. “What are you looking at?” she barked at Noor. “Follow me to my chambers.” />
  Noor hid a smile as she followed Lorn through the cold, metal corridors of the ship. She had enjoyed watching Lorn become more distraught. It seemed a fair justice for the destruction she and her brothers had caused below them on Ohinyan.

  “Take these to the armoury.” Lorn scowled, handing Noor her dirty boots. Noor barely had a chance to nod before the door slammed shut in her face. As she walked away, she heard the unmistakeable sounds of Lorn shouting and throwing things around her room, talking to herself…to him.

  Dumping the boots with the first available guard, Noor made her way to the cell she had been held in days before to meet with the little group of Aurelli who had been carrying her messages off the ship. They had brought bread and water for her, as always, and she accepted it gratefully, for it gave her time to rest without her illusion. She had begun to learn the subtle differences in their feline expressions and to see mannerisms in their swift movements that she had not noticed before. One closed its eyes at her, pressing its lids together for a moment, and Noor knew it was a smile. They were an exquisite race and cared for each other and the welfare of Ohinyan immensely, going as far as to look after everything on the ship, even if it belonged to the Makya.

  Noor relayed what she had learned to the Aurelli and threw in some examples of the tormented Lorn for good measure. She handed over three hastily scribbled notes. The Aurellis’ eyes glistened as they watched with intent, and Noor hoped with every fibre of her being that they passed her messages on to the Shadows successfully.

  Whispers hissed in the corridor beyond the cell, and she heard Raiaan’s voice. “And tell me, what did you see?” He asked, his voice louder than before.

  Noor quickly changed back into a guard, dismissing the little creatures at once. With a nod of understanding, they were away through the ship.

  “Well, sir, just like before, it’s like she’s possessed,” the guard accompanying Raiaan replied.

  “And you are with her the most?”

  “Myself and one other guard, but I…well, I can’t think of her name.”

  “Very well. Thank you, that is all for today,” Raiaan replied, and the sound of his footsteps faded down the corridor.

  Noor smiled. As she walked back to her hiding place in the loading bay, she dared not let herself believe that all the threads of her plan were coming together.

  Chapter Twenty–One

  Fia

  “Mizunese,” Altair said quietly. Fia hadn’t noticed him walk up beside her and Alexander. “My wife’s people.”

  The guardsmen gave the tiniest of nods as the ships sailed through the archway of ice. Stretching out on either side ahead of the ships was a large harbour and beyond it land bustling with life.

  Mizune was a strange place. The sky flickered on the horizon in a display of vivid lilac and green ribbons, casting a glow on the snow and ice. Fia watched as the ships came into dock, her eyes darting over the land. The buildings hugged the semi-circle of the harbour, each on tiered rows of wooden stilts, stretching out on either side. The furthest tiered row was several levels up, encompassing hundreds of buildings reaching down to the shore.

  The wooden houses were disorderly. Some had one storey and some two or three in different shapes and sizes. Many had large ice structures protruding from one part or another, a tower here or an odd side extension there.

  On each of the tiered levels were interlacing bridges of ice criss-crossing between them, with people scurrying from one tier to another. In every gap, every structure, every bridge, there was movement from people, animals, carts, and stalls.

  The bridges each contained a market, and all along the shore people worked in fur-lined, hooded coats and thick boots laced snugly around their legs. Fia watched them as silver coins were handed over for fabrics, pelts, and containers.

  “Yahto.” Altair walked down the jetty towards the Mizunese men that approached him.

  “Altair,” the man at the head of the group replied. They clasped each other’s forearm in a firm hold, pausing to lock eyes, until Yahto broke into great, bellowing laughter and hugged Altair. “It is good to see you, Father,” he said cheerfully, before leading Altair off the jetty.

  Alexander motioned to Fia, and together they followed Altair and his son onto the shore. Alexander’s kiss had played over and over in her head. The feeling of his lips pressed against hers, the warmth of his mouth, but they hadn’t been alone again since. It was strange to be off the ship, and her legs were slow to adjust to the steadiness of land.

  The Nords delighted in the freedom, dispersing into the dock in one animal form or another. All except for Maab and Enne, who walked silently beside her and Alexander.

  “Won’t you go with them?” Fia asked.

  “Later, perhaps,” Maab replied, his gaze fixed firmly on the Mizunese men surrounding Altair. Yahto’s sapphire blue eyes shone brightly as he talked with his father.

  Fia followed the group through bustling crowds, over bridges of ice, and past fragrant market stalls. They reached a large building, grander than those surrounding it, with large columns of twisting wood supporting a balcony of ice on the upper level.

  Inside, a great corridor of wooden pillars manned by Mizunese guards led them to a set of doors reaching to the ceiling. Fia inspected the door carvings as they passed through: people, animals, the ocean, and an abundance of rivers, rain, and lakes.

  Yahto led them into a chamber filled with a soft blue light from above. They joined a small group of men and women sitting on floor cushions, legs crossed neatly under them.

  “Please sit, Father,” Yahto began, “you and your friends shall join us and tell us what brings you back to Mizune.” He took his place at the head of the circle making swift introductions, but the discussion that followed was long and intense. Fia could see that Yahto was every bit his father’s son in the way his people spoke to him and approached him with questions with every moment that passed.

  She listened intently as Yahto spoke.

  “These are dark times. Safety should be the priority for everyone. The Navarii and your friends are welcome to stay here for as long as they wish. A home rests the soul, Father,” he said, before clapping his hands abruptly. “Now. Let us break—eat, drink, and enjoy some entertainment for our guests.”

  Platters of fish, along with bowls of rice and stew, were laid out before them. Spices saturated the air, and before long a steady hum of chatter filled the chamber as they ate.

  Fia chewed gratefully on a mouthful of meat from a bowl of steaming stew. Food had been in short supply on the ship, especially after the storm.

  Yahto clapped his hands again, on his feet at once. “We begin.” He was joined by some of the men and women who had sat beside them. Yahto stepped back across a small trench in the ground, reflections of the light revealing a shallow channel of water reaching around the perimeter of the chamber.

  “For many years, as far back as our history tells us, the Mizunese have had a connection with water. Water is the very essence of life—man, creatures, plants, none can live without it.” Yahto moved his hands in smooth, wide strokes, matching his words. As he spoke, Fia watched the group pulling the water from the little trench towards them, like they were two magnets tugging at each other’s edges. Instead of splashing in a puddle on the floor, the water flowed seamlessly towards them, cylindrical and shiny, as if encased in glass.

  She felt Alexander’s gaze on her as she watched the display, mesmerised, but he glanced away when she turned to face him.

  “Every living thing comes from water, and we return to it when we die,” Yahto continued, joining the group in manipulating the flow of the water through the air. Fia sat, fascinated, observing Yahto and the group as they worked with the water. Their bodies moved gracefully around the swirling streams, as if it were an extension of themselves. In the same way the Makya were one with fire, the Mizunese were one with water. With one fluid movement, they diverted the flow upwards to the ceiling, the blue glow deepening as the l
ast of the ice was frozen into place. Fia imagined they used the same method to hunt the fish they were eating, lancing their catch with a spear made of ice.

  “The properties of water are used for many things. Healing, cleansing, purification. Tied to the ebb and flow of the oceans’ tides, it is said that each night the moons return to strengthen our bond with water.”

  Yahto reached his hands towards the ice, and a large chunk of it broke away, falling at speed towards the spot where he stood below. Before it reached him, he waved his palms together in a circular motion, and the chunk of ice rotated around and around into a perfect sphere, like a little moon hovering above the chamber.

  “Just as the water and the moons are tied to each other, so are the sun and the moons. The moons cannot shine without the sun, without the sun our days and nights would be in darkness, and our tides would lose their ebb and flow. The natural sequence of Ohinyan will be disrupted, until the third sun blesses us with its presence.” Yahto dropped his hands, the little moon melting back into the trench, and sat back down in his place at the head of the group.

  “And do you grow weaker with each sunset?” Maab asked.

  It was Altair who replied. “Yes, they will grow weaker, but not yet.”

  “And perhaps, not at all,” Yahto said. “Only time will tell.”

  Maab nodded.

  “So then, my son, will the Mizunese help us? Will you stand with us and fight the Makya? Our chances of defeating them are far greater if we have the Mizunese warriors at our side.”

  Fia felt uncomfortable at the onslaught of Altair’s stare. He was a gentle soul, but she sensed a quiet thunder beneath him, as if the swathes of his great cloak kept it contained.

  “How can you ask this of me, Father?” Yahto shook his head, breaking away from his father’s gaze. “Mizune could become the target for the next Makya attack. We cannot draw attention to ourselves.” He thrust himself to his feet, pacing. “Our numbers are dwindling—you know this all too well. I have a duty to protect my people. Our last encounter with the Makya did not end well. We cannot fight. It is too risky.”