The First Dawn (Daughter of the Phoenix Book Three)

by Victoria J. Price

  The woman’s expression remained the same. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face as if the news was completely irrelevant to her. Alexander suspected it wasn’t news at all. “This is your last warning. Go back through the gate,” she said, raising her chin.

  Alexander sighed through his nose. The men surrounding the Tahjiik looked like poorly trained soldiers. A few wore bracers and greaves, but most wore no kind of armour at all. Some were young, too young for what was about to happen.

  This would only end in bloodshed. “We don’t want to fight. We ask for peaceful passage through these lands whilst we carry out our search.” Maab had already shifted beside him, a throaty rumble emanating from him as he swiped his armour to one side with a great paw.

  “It is as Ona said,” the Nordic-looking male called out. “Angels are not welcome here. They serve a foreign king who took the throne unlawfully.”

  If it hadn’t been for his presence on Earth and Ohinyan, Alexander would have suspected Erebus was their new king. The Tahjiik were choosing their words though, Alexander knew.

  Noor stepped up beside him and gave an almost imperceptible nod. She knew what was coming. They all did. “We’re passing through whether you permit it or not,” the witch said, drawing a blade.

  “So be it,” Ona answered. Her eyes turned to molten amber, the two males beside her following suit as their stances changed, ready to fight, white sparks crackling at their fingertips. More of the Nords shifted, their armour falling away from them.

  Alexander drew a blade of his own, casting aside his exhaustion and hoping he could conjure even a small amount of his magic for whatever came next. The soldiers charged; their first mistake.

  Metal clashed with metal, and teeth and claws sank into flesh. But Alexander kept his eyes on the three Tahjiik, assessing them before he made his move. The Tahjiik’s attention was on the Nords, sending those sparks at a great black bear as it ripped through one of the soldiers. Alexander surged towards them ready to intervene, but Ona sent those sparks in his direction and he dove out of the way.

  A soldier charged at him, an axe held high above the young man’s head as he yelled in another language. With one swipe of Alexander’s blade, the soldier fell, and he turned his attention back to the Tahjiik. Ona had Osara pinned in the air, that crackling current of energy wrapped around her throat sending Osara’s body into a fit. No.

  Alexander reached out a hand and called on his magic, pulled and pulled from whatever part of him he thought had been emptied opening the gate. Osara shook violently, and blood began to trickle from her mouth. Alexander surged forwards on a gust of air, and the Tahjiik woman began to choke. She released Osara and clutched her hands to her own throat. Her eyes were wide as she turned to Alexander, gasping for air—air that he was pulling from her lungs.

  “Ona!” one of the male Tahjiik called out. But it was too late. Alexander didn’t stop pulling until Ona fell to her knees and sank into the dirt, motionless.

  The two male Tahjiik turned on Alexander, sparks flying like they’d conjured lightning from the sky. “What have you done?” one of the males roared.

  Alexander didn’t wait for them to attack first. He pulled harder, and the two Tahjiik clutched at their throats for barely a second before they fell beside the first in the dirt. He didn’t have time to think about it as two more soldiers charged at him, both wielding swords. He swiped at the first soldier’s chest with his blade, not stopping to look as the soldier stared down in shock.

  This was no fight. It was a slaughter. But the second soldier still charged at him. Alexander disarmed him with ease and knocked the soldier from his feet. “Yield!” he commanded, his sword pointing at the soldier’s throat. But the soldier crawled for his weapon, and just as he reached it, a great black and white tiger loomed over him, teeth bared. Maab. The soldier baulked for only a moment, then continued to shuffle towards his sword. Maab didn’t offer a second chance. As his teeth sank into flesh, Alexander looked away to take stock of the scene around him.

  Only three of the soldiers remained. Four, if he counted the one whose arm was currently hanging from Maab’s bloodied mouth. Alexander pushed himself into the air, wings outstretched as he hovered over them all. “Enough!” he called out. The Nords stopped, but the soldiers didn’t. Whether they spoke another language or not, they’d have understood the gesture. And yet still, they attacked. The Nords defended themselves, but Alexander would not have their injuries be his doing. He pulled one last time, and the last three fighting soldiers fell to the dirt.

  Maab’s victim already lay still as Alexander let himself fall back to solid ground. His head was pounding, adrenaline surging through his veins. “Help the injured,” he called out. “Theirs too. We need whatever information we can get. And be prepared for more to come. We’ll move out as quickly as we can.”

  He took stock of their surroundings. The trees were thick, at least they could move out under the cover of the canopy. He sighed. This was not how he’d hoped this would go. Killing the soldiers was one thing, but the Tahjiik? They were revered amongst many in Ohinyan’s myths. Why would they attack? And what of this king and the angels who served him? Alexander turned over soldiers until he found one breathing. “Noor,” he called out.

  The soldier was the first who had charged him. The young man clutched at the wound across his chest as Noor knelt beside him. “He doesn’t have long,” she said quietly, assessing his wounds.

  “Osara?” Alexander asked. Noor merely nodded; the Nord would survive. Beyond them, Maab had changed back into a man, but a few of the Nords remained in their animal forms, anticipating another wave, Alexander presumed.

  Alexander looked to the soldier as he knelt beside Noor, careful to keep his wings out of the dirt and the blood. “Do you understand me?”

  The young soldier nodded. His brown eyes were wide, his pupils dilated as he stared up at the sky above the clearing. “Can you do anything for him?” Alexander asked Noor. Blood smeared her arms, but Alexander knew it was unlikely to be her own.

  The witch smiled tightly. “I can try.” She placed her hands over the soldier’s and closed her eyes.

  Alexander continued with his questioning. If they stood a chance of finding Fia, the soldier might have important information. “The other angels, where are they?”

  “In the camps,” the soldier whispered. Beneath Noor’s hands glowed a dim light, trickling into the man’s chest.

  “And if not the king, then to whom are you loyal?” Alexander glanced around them, at the Nords dragging bodies away from the gate, at the blood that had congealed into sludge.

  The soldier sighed as Noor’s magic reached him. “Our queen.”

  Alexander fought the urge to walk away, to let him die with dignity. “Where might I find the queen?”

  “She’s gone missing.” The soldier choked as Noor’s light receded. “Since the wards fell in the Wastes.” He reached for his chest, clasping at his tattered tunic. A tunic, of all things. Not even a hint of armour.

  “The Wastes?” Alexander asked as the soldier’s eyes began to flutter. He muttered something in another language. A prayer, perhaps.

  A strong wind blew through the trees surrounding them, and the soldier’s eyes flicked wide once more. “Where the ancient darkness was held captive.”

  Noor shot Alexander a look. Erebus. His prison. But Alexander didn’t let that seed of hope grow, not yet. “Where are the Wastes?”

  A broken gasp escaped from the soldier and Noor withdrew her hands as his chest rose but didn’t fall again.

  “Where are the Wastes?” Alexander repeated.

  But he knew it was too late, the soldier was gone. Alexander felt no pull like he would on Earth, and he wondered where the dying went here, wherever here was. Okwata had given them no name for this world, and now they had likely made themselves a target.

  “Gather the others,” he said quietly to Noor. “We’ll need to put as much distance between us and the gate befor
e nightfall.” He didn’t wait for a response, pushing off into the air to breach the canopy. He took in the clearing surrounding the gate, the forest beyond not unlike the one they had left on Ornax. At the forest’s edge sat a mountain range, and some signs of life, small plumes of smoke that might be from chimneys or small fires.

  Maab and Osara approached below, and Alexander dropped back down to the earth. Osara’s throat was bruised, and dried blood smeared from her mouth across her chin, but she seemed fine. Maab looked completely unscathed, his silver hair just as wild as it had been before he shifted. “Maab, we need scouts,” Alexander said, willing himself to fight against his exhaustion.

  “I’ll go,” Osara replied. “I’d like to stretch my wings.” She toyed with one of the metal adornments in her hair as she said it, as if she were bored.

  Alexander eyed the bruises on her neck. “You almost died.”

  The Nord shrugged. “You saved me, it’s the least I can do. You’ll be too great a target if you go. Besides, Noor made sure nothing was broken.”

  Maab nodded in agreement.

  “We need to reach somewhere before dark. Make sure there’s enough time for us to travel before the light fades,” Alexander said, looking at the sky. “We’ll head for the mountains.” He pointed towards the range, and Osara nodded.

  In a heartbeat, she was a bird, her armour rattling beside them as she flew up and out of the canopy. “Osara is fast,” Maab said quietly. “We’ll have a safe space to rest for the night.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Alexander said. His head was still pounding, and he needed to rest, soon. He grabbed a bag from one of the Nords who was injured and led the way into the forest towards the mountains, his thoughts drowning out the exhaustion.

  He had stolen the air right from the Tahjiik’s lungs. He’d felt it, felt it like a source within them and simply tugged at it. He couldn’t look at his hands. Their deaths were necessary. He knew, as a leader, he would have to make difficult decisions. That didn’t mean taking a life was without consequences. Without remorse.

  He reached for the copper ball as he led the way through the dense trees, putting distance between himself and the others so that he might listen to Fia’s latest message in private, pushing aside the thoughts that said they could all be too late. That Ohinyan’s sun could have already died. That Erebus could have already found Fia. Dried leaves crunched underfoot as he widened the space between himself and the rest of the group.

  Fia sounded upset as her quiet words fell from the device, and his heart felt as if a hand had clasped around it at the sound of her voice and the pain in it. “I love you. No matter what happens.” She mentioned a gate, and the message cut short.

  Something told Alexander there were going to be more difficult decisions to come.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fia

  F ia wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Enough time for her to feel her strength return. Enough time for her to see those deaths play over and over a hundred times. Enough time for her to question why she’d seen Erebus so many times and how it was possible he could do such a thing even from here. And when that thought had settled like a stone inside her, Fia realised just how likely it was that he was already here, in this world.

  Evina entered the tent holding a wooden tray, Lorn hot on her heels.

  “Just like old times,” Lorn said with a bored expression, eyeing the tray Evina placed before Fia.

  Lorn somehow looked more dishevelled than she had before. “Thank you,” Fia said to Evina, patting the rug beside her for Evina to sit. The young woman dropped her hood and lowered herself with grace. Her movements were fluid and, as her eyes met Fia’s, Fia once again thought of ocean waves tumbling over each other.

  “You need to practise before we leave,” Lorn said as Fia took a bite of the stale bread Evina had given her. “We’ve already wasted a day waiting for you to recover.”

  Fia watched the Makya as she chewed. “We need to finish our previous conversation. And I want to know where we are.” She gestured to the bare tent around them.

  “So demanding today.” Lorn inspected a hole in her jumpsuit. She wouldn’t sit. Fia had barely seen her rest. “We are in another of the angels’ military camps.”

  “And they left you unattended?”

  Lorn raised an eyebrow. “Aura is standing guard outside. We are their prisoners here, for appearances’ sake.”

  Fia swallowed a mouthful of water and closed her eyes, testing for any sign of Aura’s shield. The moment she opened her senses to it she could feel it. She could almost see it, shimmering in the air. “Why do you want to destroy Ohinyan?” No point being polite about it.

  Lorn sighed. “I want what was promised to me.” She paced as she had before, ever a firecracker ready to go off.

  “And what was that, exactly?”

  “Everything.”

  Fia waited for her to continue.

  Lorn turned to face her, arms outstretched like she was a prize. “I was raised to be the fire mother. My entire life has been about nothing but this. As much as you might call Ohinyan your home, you do not know our history. The Makya were not always as agreeable as they are now. Par was a formidable leader once.”

  Fia thought Par an even more formidable leader for conceding that survival was a better way forward for her people. “But even she acknowledges that destroying your home will leave you with no future.”

  “Par is wrong. Ohinyan needs… to be cleansed. To be delivered from its current state into a new era.” Lorn’s eyes flared as she said the words, and Fia didn’t doubt for one moment that Lorn would attempt everything she’d confessed to and more.

  “And you are the one to do all of that? The cleansing and the delivering?”

  “Do not mock me, girl.”

  Fia dusted crumbs off her lap. A faint frown traced Evina’s brow, but she made no move to reach for Fia. “You’re barely older than I am,” Fia finally said to Lorn.

  “Regardless. It’s bad manners to speak disrespectfully to your tutor.” Lorn cocked her head to one side as if in invitation.

  “Tutor?” I just can’t figure you out, Lorn.

  “Yes. Get up. We aren’t leaving again until we practise. We can’t keep wasting time just because you can’t get a grip on your power.”

  “Why?”

  Lorn folded her arms across her chest. “Why what?”

  “Why train me? The wasting time part is irrelevant. Why do you want to train me? It’s because you want to know, isn’t it? You want to know which one of us is the fire mother.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I want to help Ohinyan, and that’s the only reason I’m going along with this crappy excuse of yours.” Fia pushed herself to her feet, and Evina followed suit.

  Fia blinked at the daylight, shielding her eyes with her arm. It made sense, it would be foolish to practise at night.

  “The prisoners are stretching their legs,” Lorn said, touching Aura’s elbow as she passed.

  The angel didn’t comment on the gesture, only smiled back as she said, “Is that so?”

  “Do we need to sign out or something?” Fia asked.

  Aura looked from her to Lorn. “I don’t understand, why would I need your signature?”

  “She’s still not fully recovered,” Lorn said flatly.

  Fia felt a flicker of embarrassment, but then the angel said, “Oh, it was a joke. Very funny, Fia.” Aura nudged Fia’s elbow with her own, and Fia didn’t miss the way Lorn frowned at the gesture.

  A group of angels walked past, two carrying a wounded one between them, and Fia averted her gaze. There was no forgetting that this was a war camp.

  “Follow me, we’ll pick up the others on the way.” Aura began to turn away but snapped back. “Do try to act like you’re prisoners. Heads down, look a bit sad, that kind of thing.” She looked directly at Lorn as she spoke, her expression stern but her eyes glinting with mischief. Fia was starting to like her.

  Lorn
flashed Fia a grin, and Fia knew the Makya had absolutely no intention of acting like a prisoner.

  Evina had already raised her hood before she left the tent, her gaze fixed on the floor as they followed Aura. Fia followed suit. The more attention they drew to themselves, the longer it would take them to reach the gate. Feathers and wings passed by as they followed Aura. Fia wanted to look up, to study the soldiers and their camp and to take in the details, but instead focused on the white tips of Aura’s wings, held just above the ground so they didn’t drag in the dirt.

  The air was cold here, not enough for breath to cloud in the air, but enough for Fia to wish she had another layer. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of burning meat—nothing appetising, and Fia suspected soldiers’ rations never were.

  “Where are you going?” Fia looked up to see Rainn and Jax approaching, Rainn’s voice lined with irritation. “They shouldn’t be out here.”

  “She needs to practise before it gets dark. We’re not leaving unprepared again. If she burns out like she did before, she’s nothing more than a liability. Wouldn’t you agree?” Lorn held Rainn’s death stare, and Fia bit back any argument she might have had. It was true, and they couldn’t travel until nightfall anyway. It made sense to waste away the hours practising, didn’t it?

  Rainn eyed them all for a moment, his mouth a tight line. “Very well. Jax, at the rear. Aura, shield up.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he turned to walk away.

  “Always,” Aura muttered. The angel’s shield hadn’t wavered once since they left the tent, and for all Aura’s cheerfulness a few moments before, Fia didn’t blame the angel for thinking she might break through it.

  They followed the angels out of the camp until tents gave way to trees. More forest. Tall trees, with leaves so dark they were almost black. A little wave of disappointment washed over Fia as she realised she’d have loved to explore this new world if there had been time. Surely there were cities here too? Her sister Sophie would have loved it. She’d never have believed it all.