The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One)

by Victoria J. Price

  “Fia, you’re pale. Is everything okay?” Alexander was beside her, a bowl of steaming stew in one hand, the other cupped gently on her cheek. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Fia cleared her throat. I want to share everything with you, too. But not this. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Erebus tonight.

  Chapter Twenty–Nine

  Fia

  “Let us hope the sky spirits bring us fresh snow,” Altair said, preparing the huskies for departure.

  Fia looked up, the last of the fog had lifted, and Mizune had awoken to a clear, blue sky stretching as far as the eye could see. This was not the weather they’d wished for. “Are there enough sleds for everyone?” She’d skipped breakfast to help in any way she could. She couldn’t eat. Not on a morning like this. Not after Erebus’ threat.

  Altair shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Many left under moonlight to make the journey south on foot.”

  Fia said nothing. It was a long way to walk in this climate, and worse, to the possibility of imminent death. She pushed back at the thoughts telling her she had led the Makya here. That this was her doing. They crept up her spine and whispered in her ears.

  The group travelled a few hours south of Mizune, close to the witches’ forest. The location had been chosen based on several factors: the forest that lined off one side of the snowy tundra, a glacial lake sitting to the east, and the beginning of the rock formation that went down into the valley beyond the witches’ forest lining the west. Behind them to the north, although sparser, the land was not suitable for a ship and was more difficult to navigate on foot, so this was the only place the Makya would be able to land. Fia sucked in the cold air as steadily as she could and then concentrated on the clouds of breath as she exhaled.

  She watched the soldiers as she approached, chatting quietly in groups or smoking crumbling leaf from pipes. Mizunese and Navarii alike, they huddled around fires telling each other stories. For a moment, she felt the urge to run, like she was back in Highgate cemetery with the sound of footsteps pursuing her. Instead, she sucked in more of the cool air as she surveyed the soldiers.

  The Mizunese wore quilted vests with inky blue sleeves beneath them and thick, heavy gloves—a uniform of sorts. The Navarii had no sense of similarity to their attire; some sat beside shields carved with symbols, whereas others wore crude metal helmets and sharpened the blades of their long swords.

  Panic rooted Fia to the spot; she could see hundreds, but certainly not thousands, of soldiers. How could they win this? Alexander landed beside her, following her gaze along the line of men and women. He was covered in armour, but she’d recognise his lips, the contours of his chest, his strong arms, no matter what he wore. A golden helmet covered the top half of his face, with a matching chest plate, gauntlets, greaves, and boots that glistened as the light caught them, polished to their best. He wasn’t entirely covered, but few exposed spots remained—his wings amongst them. Across his back were two long swords and his bow and quiver full of arrows.

  Fia allowed herself to feel a shred of relief. “I thought there might be more of us than this.”

  “We don’t need numbers. We have strategy on our side,” he replied, calm and composed. His eyes sparkled from within his helmet. Their numbers were doubled by the angels in the sky above them who were skilled archers, armoured, ready, and waiting to launch an airborne attack. “It’s not too late for Arion to take you back to Mizune,” he said.

  “I want to fight. You know I do. And we’ve discussed this. If I’m here, they’ll be looking for me, and that means Mizune will be safe.”

  Alexander nodded and held her face gently in his hands. “Be careful, don’t leave Arion’s side.” He brushed a thumb gently over her lips.

  Fia nodded, she was too nervous to speak. Please be okay.

  Alexander kissed her swiftly and flew in line with the other archers to prepare, their glittering armoured bodies hovering above her.

  An angel flew in beside Alexander, his helmet tucked under his arm as he greeted his leader. Golden eyes met hers for a moment as the angel turned to look at her. Fia was too far away to hear their exchange, but she knew from Alexander’s description that it was Jarl, his General.

  Jarl gave a bellowing instruction to the soldiers to put out their fires and their pipes and called them to formation. He stood in line beside Alexander as the hum of engines carried to them on the breeze, and Fia recognised the sound at once. A large airship flanked by three smaller ones advanced from the east, just visible over the horizon of the lake. The soldiers cried out, rallying each other as the enemy approached. Fia leapt up onto Arion’s back, her fingers burying into fistfuls of mane. She was making him a target, too.

  A fierce wind picked up across the tundra, forcing snow off the trees in drifts.

  “Gymir,” Fia said under her breath.

  The airships advanced over the horizon. Each of the flying beasts had a multitude of metal and wooden wings protruding from the underside in a disordered manner, surrounding what looked unmistakably like large metal canons. Shit.

  The soldiers moved in sequence; a line of Mizunese footmen dotted amongst the rest of the allies. They created a shield of ice large enough to encompass the entire army and launched it upwards into the sky. Like a glass dome, it protected the angels above them, too.

  Fia sat astride Arion’s back, bow drawn, waiting for the mark. She’d been practicing with Runa and she was ready. If she was to be a target, she could at least put up a fight.

  Maab and Enne flanked Arion’s sides, joined by the other Nords that could attack more fiercely in animal form. Those that remained stood as men, wielding swords and spears. The angels and the Navarii archers raised their bows ready for attack. The air was so tense Fia was sure the ice shield was creaking from the weight of it.

  “Hold!” Alexander cried out from somewhere down the battle line. Their makeshift army was several rows of soldiers deep, split off into organised rectangles of men and women, each with their own group of Mizunese to protect their unit.

  The ice giant’s wind became fiercer as the airships flew closer; a violent gust of air dug into the trees around the lake, snapping them in two. The scent of pine and fresh snow drifted across the expanse.

  “Hold,” Alexander commanded again over the wind and the drumming of the airships’ engines. The ships attempted to fly in low, but the Jǫtnars’ wind blew the Makya off course, sending them rocking and swaying in the air dangerously close to each other.

  The Makya regained formation, launching an airborne attack during their descent. Fireballs zoomed like meteorites through the sky towards Fia and the others. Still, Alexander cried, “Hold your positions, wait for my order!”

  Fia fought back a tremor as she held back the draw on her bow. Fireballs struck the ice shield one after another as the Mizunese worked together, transforming shards of ice into droplets of water. The Jǫtnar increased their attack, and the airships were blown across the lake to the bare tundra, but now they were low enough that men were jumping down to the ground from ropes.

  Gymir and his companions cried out as they sent one final commanding wind, spiralling like a cyclone towards one of the smaller airships and engulfing it in seconds. The cyclone dispersed, and pieces of the airship fell as it eddied into the snow below. The ship crashed hard into the tundra in an explosion of metal and wood, breaking up into small pieces and dragging chunks of earth and snow with it as the wreckage came to a halt in a contorted mass beside the lake. Go Gymir! Fia’s stomach was doing somersaults.

  As the airship crashed, a fireball struck the ice shield above the angels and it shattered, sending shards of ice as sharp as glass across the soldiers. Fia sat tall. She would not show weakness amongst so much courage. Instead, she held her bow steady as the Mizunese replenished the shield.

  “Keep an eye on those men,” Alexander cried as the three remaining airships lurched in the wind back towards them. Little pods fell from the ships, o
ne after another, bobbing in the wind towards the front line. The three remaining ships touched down, and an outpouring of black dots covered the snow: Aurelli and Senkahs.

  The wind dropped, and the ice shield was down. The enemy was in range.

  “Fire,” Alexander called, and a curtain of arrows whistled high through the air towards the creatures. Several of the wild things dropped to the ground, but the rest raced on through the snow.

  The Nords didn’t wait for a second command. Those in animal form broke formation and ran across the snow, eyes only for the Senkahs. The Nordic foot soldiers remained, filling the gap their animal counterparts had left. Their matching metal armour was strong and light, and they brandished a multitude of weapons. Steel battle axes and swords, carved wooden spears, and mace-like staffs swung about them as they sang battle cries and launched into the approaching Aurelli, who bounded towards them on all fours. Fia released her arrow, striking a Senkah in the flank, just as it leapt towards a Nordic wolf, buying enough time for him to clasp his jaws around the beast.

  The Makya launched themselves into the front line. One by one, they came from the ships as fireballs, before turning back into people. Arion dodged fireball after fireball, and Fia pressed her body low to his mane, squeezing her legs against his flanks to hold on.

  A Navarii soldier cried out in pain, rolled out in the snow by a Nord footman, as the snow hissed around him from the flames. But the Makya were slow, as Alexander had said they would be. Once they’d landed amongst the soldiers, it took too long for them to get their wits about them and as they hesitated, it gave enough time for an opposing attack—another barrage of arrows from the angels.

  The Mizunese countered as much of the fire with water and ice as they could, graceful with their movements, even in the height of battle, wielding the ice like a blade. The Navarii attacked the Aurelli with swords, who fought back with spears and shields and swift, frenzied movements. Fia and Arion flew low over the frenzy, keeping watch over their friends as Fia fired steady arrows that hit their targets. She aimed to harm, not to kill. She didn’t know if she could bring herself to do that, not yet.

  “The mercenaries are trying to break off the east flank!” Yahto called out beside Altair as he tackled a Senkah. It writhed and disappeared in a ball of black smoke. One of Fia’s arrows dropped to the snow in its place as Arion touched down beside Yahto, and she leapt onto the ground.

  “Something isn’t right,” Altair replied. “There should be more of them. It is as Alexander suspected. This cannot be the council’s doing.” He brushed snow from his arms. He must have fallen, but he showed no signs of injury. An Aurelli ran at him, and with one smooth blow of his battle staff, Altair sent it sliding through the snow, unconscious. “There are as many creatures as Makya and those mercenaries, Par would never lower herself to work with such a breed.”

  Yahto snorted in agreement as he dodged a fireball, trapping a Makya soldier in a block of ice up to her waist. Fia took great pleasure in landing a kick in the centre of the Makya’s chest.

  Alexander joined them, flying in low to scoop up a group of Aurelli and hurl them into an approaching Senkah. “We need to deal with the mercenaries,” he called out, rallying soldiers from the eastern side of the frontline to advance their attack on the men. Mercenaries? Fia swung around, surveying the men running from the direction of the airship, and she knew at once who they were. She grabbed a fist full of mane and leapt up onto Arion’s back.

  The mercenaries fought wildly: they bit at skin, and they pulled hair, and they swung maces made of nails and double headed axes that sliced through whoever approached them.

  Arion took to the air once more and Fia could see Maab and Enne ahead. They were fast and light-footed despite their size, and they worked together to tear through the mercenaries in a mass of blood and flesh, their white fur already stained pink. Maab was amongst the men, a deep, rumbling growl emanating from him and revealing a bloodied mouth of sharp teeth. Enne flanked his side, launching himself at the enemy with razor sharp claws. He crushed arms and legs between his teeth, as if they were nothing more than powdered snow.

  Adrenaline thundered in her chest as Fia fired an arrow at one of the mercenaries. It struck him moments later. He ripped it from his leg, looking up at her as a great black bear slammed into him and shook him from side to side like a rag doll. Good.

  Arion swooped low again, close enough to the ground for his wings to knock several Aurelli off their feet. Altair and Alexander joined them. Alexander held a long blade in each hand and cut his way through the first of two mercenaries that approached. Fia held her breath, but his attack was fluid and strong, with no hint of hesitation.

  A third mercenary spat on the floor in front of Alexander. “I’m going to enjoy cutting those wings off your back.”

  Arion pulled up as Fia drew an arrow, ready to fire.

  The mercenaries were wild, but they moved carelessly with attack after attack in slow, clumsy motions. Alexander was graceful, circling each of the men, blades crossed, considering each move until he saw an opening. His blades silently sliced through flesh and bone. The mercenaries didn’t stand a chance. Fia let out a whistle, her lips numb against the cold.

  Arion flew higher, far from the reach of the Makya fireballs. Below them, Jarl fought with a Senkah as Fia fired arrows strategically and carefully down to the ground. Arrows from above whizzed past her, extinguishing balls of fire into screaming, writhing bodies of wounded Makya below. “Thank you,” she called out to an angel as he flew on to the next target, bow drawn. She sucked in a cold lungful of air, searching for her friends below.

  “We’re driving them back,” Arion shouted through the wind.

  “The ships are taking off,” Fia cried out in reply. “We have to stop them before they escape.”

  Arion grunted his reply, flying high over the battlefield towards the two smaller airships. As they approached, a horned beast, equal in size to Behrog, erupted from the hold of the last ship still sitting in the snow. Enraged and frenzied, it tore through any soldiers in its path: Makya, Mizunese, Navarii, Senkahs, it seemed to make no difference to the creature. Its legs and torso were wrapped in chains, and on its back, thrashing the tethers wildly, sat two Makya: a man and a woman dressed in leathers.

  “Lorn and her brother, Jerum,” Arion called out.

  Stay focused.

  “The last ship is taking off,” Fia replied, “We have to hurry.”

  Arion pressed onwards towards the ship, as Fia continued her onslaught of arrows. An idea struck her. “Arion, get us in underneath. We need those ropes.”

  Hanging beneath the ship as it ascended were the ropes the mercenaries had dropped down from, swaying wildly in the wind.

  Swiftly, Arion descended beneath the largest ship and Fia reached out, grabbing the three ropes closest to her. “Take us up to one of the smaller ships,” she cried.

  Arion beat his wings, rising up to the underside of the closest ship. Much smaller in size, it still had rotary blades above and many smaller wings jutting out at various angles underneath.

  “We need to attach these to the wings, quickly,” Fia said. “Once more!” she shouted through the wind, as Arion flew up and over the ship, releasing the ropes so they fastened the two ships together.

  The snow had finally come, but it was light and blustery. The larger airship groaned beside them. “What was that?” she shouted.

  Arion ascended high above the smaller ships just as an explosion shook the largest one, setting fire to the front set of rotary blades. The ship swung wildly around one hundred and eighty degrees, pulling one of the smaller airships by its tethers and billowing smoke from the open hold.

  “The ropes are holding—it’s working,” Fia cried, and her chest fluttered with adrenaline and satisfaction. A tall, dark figure appeared in the doorway of the hold, swinging violently on one of the ropes. “Noor! Arion, we have to help her.”

  Arion dived low beneath the ships; the larger one
had set the smaller ship on fire, and they were now grinding and falling together in a mass of metal and flames. Arion swooped low under the loading bay. Fia reached out for Noor, pulling her onto Arion’s back just as the rear blades shattered and both ships fell, spiralling and tumbling in a mass of smoke and flames into the glacial lake.

  “Did you have anything to do with that explosion?” Fia called out to Noor.

  Noor laughed. “Very nice touch with the ropes. I’m impressed Fia.”

  They swooped down to dodge a Makya firing at them from a seed pod. Through the snow and the smoke below, Fia spotted Lorn, revelling in sheer delight as fire flooded from her fingertips with as much speed and strength as the Mizunese controlled water.

  “Lorn,” Noor cried over the wind as Arion flew lower.

  Lorn stood alone in the snow, surrounded by charred bodies, frantically shooting flames at her assailants, as the two airships crashed into the tundra. Two bears charged at her from the masses, flanked by men brandishing spears.

  “Do your worst,” Lorn called out, laughing and shooting streams of fire towards them. Three Mizunese soldiers accompanied the Nords and sent shards of ice to meet her flames, hissing into steam as they collided. A group of angels joined Fia, firing arrows as Lorn attacked.

  “You’ll never defeat the great Fire Mother!” Lorn spun around, flames shooting outwards from her palms.

  Arion took them away from the commotion, and Fia lost sight of Lorn.

  “Wait, I need to go lower,” Noor shouted through the wind.

  Fia opened her mouth to respond just as a fireball flew past them. One of the little seed pods chased them again.

  “It’s Lorn,” Noor said. “She’s coming for you. We have to move,” she yelled through the snow and the smoke.

  Fia gritted her teeth. She was ready.

  Fireballs shot past their heads through the blizzard. “Arion, we need to set down. It isn’t safe for you up here,” Fia said. Arion descended, but a few metres from the ground fire clipped his wing, and he spiralled downwards, throwing Noor and Fia into the snow.