Their quiet bubble was interrupted by a Nord. “More are coming.” It was Olmar, breathless and covered in blood, but none seemed to be his. Alexander took stock of the scene around him. Randin’s angels had lost. He pushed off through the canopy until he could see signs of movement in the trees. Sure enough, more were coming. It was time to leave.
“Rainn, Jax, Aura, I need your help to open the gate,” Alexander called out as his feet touched the mud. “The rest of you, help the wounded, we’re leaving.”
Maab was already clipping his armour back on, having changed back into a man moments before. Alexander didn’t get a chance to say anything before Maab saw Osara’s body beside Noor.
“What happened?” the Nord asked.
“She was a spy for Randin,” Noor said, pushing herself to her feet and dusting off her knees as if her lover hadn’t just died in her arms. She rarely let her emotions show.
Something flickered across Maab’s face, but he squared his jaw and said nothing of the matter. “Olmar,” he said, looking to the other Nord. “Headcount?”
“All accounted for, except her.” Olmar flicked his chin in Osara’s direction. If they mourned her death, none of them showed it. Alexander spotted Henric helping Milena hobble towards the gate and felt a small flicker of relief that at least the rest of them had made it in one piece.
Alexander didn’t wait to listen to the rest of Maab and Noor’s exchange. He flew up to the stone gate where the other angels stood waiting. “This won’t be pleasant,” he said. “Don’t let go until I say.”
“We cannot leave the queen.” Rainn stood defensively beside Evina, and Alexander knew the angel would give his life for her if it came to it, that all three of them would.
“She will not leave my side,” Noor said, looping her arm through Evina’s and giving the queen a reassuring nod. They looked completely at odds beside each other; Noor was so tall and lean and Evina so tiny, but the queen held her head high and nodded her approval.
“Quickly,” Alexander said, pressing his hands to the side of the gate. It seemed to buzz at his touch almost immediately. The other angels did the same, and he felt their power passing through the gate as their fingers brushed the stone. “Let it all go,” Alexander called out as the gate began to roar beneath their touch.
It was easier this time, with all of them. The gate sparked, and the shimmering mist appeared within moments. “Go!” Alexander called out to Noor and the others.
Dust and pieces of rock fell from the gate as it shook with the force of their magic, Maab passing through after the last of the Nords. “And you three,” Alexander called to the other angels. They didn’t hesitate, they dove through the mist after their queen, and Alexander felt the pull on his power the moment their hands left the gate.
He didn’t know if he could let go and still hold it open. Didn’t know if they were going back to anything at all in Ohinyan, didn’t know if Fia was there. But he had to try. He let go and tumbled into the mist after his friends.
Whatever it took, he wasn’t going to give up.
Chapter Twenty–Six
Lorn
L orn stared out of the window of the control room, into the almost night of Ohinyan’s sky. A flock of birds flew by, dark smudges in the twilight. The hum of the engines was almost enough to drown out the screaming in her head, and it took all her self-control not to release a jet of flames onto the control panel. Her anger was like a beast within her, clawing its way to the surface.
Impressive. Twice Erebus had commended the girl. Twice. Fia was worthless. Lorn had given the girl enough opportunities to prove she was something more, but she was nothing. Lorn tightened her hands into fists at her sides at the thought. Pilots worked quietly around her as she tore through her thoughts, but none spoke to her. None of them dared. Lorn wouldn’t have it any other way.
Switches and levers were pulled, pieces of metal and wire that kept the ship airborne. Lorn had no interest in the science of it, only that the pilots did as they were instructed. Footsteps sounded on the metal floor behind her and she knew without looking it would be her brother, Jerum.
“What of our other brother?” she asked as Jerum stood beside her, following her gaze out into the clouds.
Jerum sighed. “He still sides with the council. He’s Par’s concern now.” He turned to face her, and she met his gaze. His hair had begun to pepper with grey, his skin seemed sallower and thinner than the last time they were together. It hadn’t been so long since they’d been parted, but then she’d never really bothered to look at him in this much detail before—the way his eyes had flecks of amber and gold amongst them, the way he’d taken to slicking his hair back. He was just as bad as the rest of them really, and she knew better than to trust Jerum—he would cast her aside the minute a better opportunity came along. Except this time, it wouldn’t. She was the only opportunity. Ohinyan’s only salvation.
“That is his loss,” Lorn finally said. “Have you sent word to those still loyal to Randin?”
Jerum grinned, his teeth still as white as they’d ever been. His eyes flickered with mischief and the embers within them seemed to glow brighter. “I have eyes and ears in many places, Lorn, as you well know.”
Lorn rolled her eyes. She was running out of patience with her brother. There was room enough for only one of their egos on the airship, after all. “And what of our other allies?” She ran her fingers across a defunct control panel, the metal switches cold beneath her fingertips.
“Ready and waiting for our command. We’ll meet them just north of Kaliz.”
Lorn mulled over Jerum’s words. Their airship remained in the skies above Ashar, where Erebus had deserted her. Where he’d rescued Fia to protect her from Lorn’s inferno. He’d only injured himself in the process, and something told Lorn, Fia wouldn’t heal him this time around.
Sparks danced at her fingertips, and a tight smile stretched across her face. “I’ve always hated Kaliz,” she muttered, curling her lip in disgust.
Jerum placed a hand on her shoulder and met her gaze. “I was hoping you’d say that, dear sister. My eyes and ears tell me we’ll be able to recruit more soldiers there. We dock in one hour.”
***
Ohinyan needs to be cleansed. Words she’d said to Fia back in Deganis. And it was the truth.
Lorn made her way to the loading bay, towards a cluster of soldiers readying seedpods for their departure. They couldn’t dock inside Kaliz, so they’d need to take the pods the rest of the way.
She didn’t recognise any of their faces, but they all knew who she was. Fear flickered in the eyes of the soldier closest to her, a young man with hair as red as jewel berries.
“Is this pod ready for departure?” she asked him. He fiddled with a buckle on his long coat for a moment before remembering himself. “Yes, Fire Mother, of course.”
The seedpod beside him looked the same as the rest; smooth walls with cut out sections at the sides and the front, the blades taken from multiple seeds. For every pod they could fly, it took five more to make it. The trees from which they harvested the seedpods only grew south of Nadar, on the island of Abrelo, the tallest trees in all Ohinyan that produced the largest seeds, strong and light, the perfect structure for flying.
A smile tugged at Lorn’s lips as she pulled a pair of goggles onto her head. She’d wanted a release. This was perfect. Kaliz was another stain to be rid of. Finding new recruits would just be a bonus. “And my brother?”
“Ready to cause a little chaos, sister,” Jerum interjected as he stepped up beside her.
Everyone will be a disappointment in the end. Even you, brother. She’d find a way to cut him loose, soon enough. Once Randin’s army arrived, perhaps. Or once she’d rekindled the sun. She’d decide in the days to come. “Always,” she replied, and swung herself into the seedpod as the loading bay doors opened.
The sky was dim, but in the distance, the lights of Kaliz winked up at them. Soon to be snuffed out, Lorn thought with a
little laugh. Wind whipped at her face as she pulled at levers and the seedpod spluttered to life, juddering towards the night air.
“To chaos!” she called out, as the pod dipped out of the loading bay, the propellers humming as they reached full speed. Lorn couldn’t deny that she loved this feeling, the wind biting at her cheeks, rippling through her hair. She let her eyes stream for a moment before she pulled her goggles down over them. She was a Makya, made of fire, and air fuelled fire. That was how it felt to travel in the seedpods—like she was being refuelled, rejuvenated.
More pods hummed around her, the lights of Kaliz getting closer. They were minutes away. To attack the harbour, or the city centre… choices, choices. Lorn opted for the harbour. She’d have preferred to attack from the air but couldn’t risk losing her pod, and the other soldiers would follow whatever she did. No, that would do no good.
As she neared the harbour, a dark expanse stretched out into the water; Kaliz’s jetty, made of iron after the Makya burned the previous one to ash three hundred years ago. The perfect place for the seedpods to land, and the perfect place to ensure they’d be protected from what was to come. It seemed fitting, that her ancestors had paved the way for her.
With another quiet laugh, she pushed down on the controls and steered the seedpod in to land. Lights flickered on one by one on the jetty, perfectly illuminating the space where Lorn wanted to touch down. It must finally be dusk—it was impossible to tell until the grey would inevitably slip away into the black of night.
The seedpod skidded to a stop, and Lorn cast her goggles aside. More seedpods landed around her as she stepped out onto the jetty. The Great Ocean air washed over her, salty and fresh. Rejuvenating. She didn’t wait for the others; she knew they would follow. Instead, she focused on her first victims, a fishing boat and its crew finishing up for the day at the start of the jetty. Perfect.
“Let the cleansing begin!” she called out to the soldiers, throwing herself into a run. Chaos was the goal here, but it would also identify the strongest among them, those they might recruit to join their cause, and Lorn would rid Kaliz of the rest. Those that remained would be given a chance to serve her in the new era. It would be her gift to them.
She leapt into the air as she neared the fishing boat, let herself fall into flames to roll across the fishing nets the men were untangling on the jetty, setting light to every one of them. When she reached the end, she fell back into her physical form, rising perfectly from a roll as she stood.
The men cried out and began to approach her, some brushing flames away from their hands where they’d been touching the net.
“You can’t do that!” one called out.
Lorn laughed. None of them seemed strong. But still, she’d give them a chance to prove otherwise. “Oops,” was all she said in reply, as a ribbon of fire fell from her fingertips and towards their boat, sending it up in flames in an instant.
Someone cried and jumped into the water on the far side, but Lorn didn’t bother to look. The men didn’t follow her as she walked away, too busy trying to help their friends suffering on the boat. For that, she turned back and incinerated them all.
Jerum and the other soldiers caught up with her as the last of the fishermen blew away on the sea breeze.
“A welcome party to greet us,” Jerum called out, flicking his chin back towards the city.
Lorn had wondered when someone would have the guts to fight back. But she couldn’t help the flicker of surprise when she looked up and saw Makya standing beside Mizunese, the water wielders from the south, already pulling the ocean water towards them ready to fight. The Makya among them were also poised to attack. “They must be loyal to Par,” Lorn said to her brother.
He merely nodded beside her, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
A fireball landed at their feet: a warning. Fine. A line in the sand. She might have considered saving the Makya in Kaliz up until that moment, but with that one simple act, she was determined that none would remain.
“Attack!” she cried out and launched herself at the Makya female who had dared throw the fireball at her feet.
Lorn summoned twin blades from her flames. The flames alone might not have injured the Makya, but a swipe of her blades would.
“Please,” the female called out, fire dancing at her fingertips as if she were unsure how to fight back. “You’re one of us.”
Lorn laughed. “You are weak. And I have no room for weakness in my version of Ohinyan.” She swung a blade, and the Makya dodged back in surprise. One of us. Fool. Lorn was nothing like the other Makya. Never had been. She swung again, but a shield of ice shot up between her and the Makya. One of the water wielders.
A fresh wave of rage bubbled up inside her. They were all fools to fight her. Lorn shattered the ice with a strike from both blades, putting enough force into the blow that they would swipe across the chest of the Makya behind it.
The female staggered back, clutching at the gaping wound, and Lorn grinned in satisfaction. She turned her attention to the Mizunese who had intervened. He was already wielding ocean water like whips in both hands, spiralling it around him, ready to strike, and Lorn felt the rush of anticipating his attack skitter through her bones.
She let him pounce, a blade of flame meeting each whip with a hiss. Whilst he was distracted by their tangled elemental weapons, she ignited, and launched herself at him, tackling him to the docks as he let out a pained cry.
He tried to fight back, but it was no use, her flames were already burning through his clothes to his skin. She sat astride him, pressing her hands to the sides of his face, and flesh sizzled beneath her touch. The man screamed, desperately trying to pull more water towards him, but any droplets just hissed away from Lorn into a cloud of steam. “You’re a fool for attacking the fire mother,” she spat.
His screams didn’t last long, but Lorn didn’t have time to admire her work. Shards of ice struck her back and broke through her flames. More Mizunese.
Lorn pushed herself away from him, her blades already drawn as she paused to catch her breath. A wild joy pulsed through her veins as she spun around to find the source of the ice. No one would stop her now.
“Lorn, we’re losing too many soldiers. There are none for us to recruit here,” Jerum called out from somewhere nearby.
The docks were alight. Flames lit up buildings that were a cross between those made of stone in Djira, and some of the older architecture Lorn had observed in London, the city Erebus had taken her to on Earth. Stone and brick glowed in the firelight, and great wafts of black smoke carried towards her on the sea breeze. Wood was alight nearby, lots of it. Boats, most likely, and the day’s goods waiting to be taken to market in the morning.
Shards of ice hit her jumpsuit, and Lorn’s attention snapped back to the Mizunese. With a jet of flames, she encircled a group of three, pulling her flames tighter around them like a rope.
“Stop, please!” one called out. But Lorn wouldn’t stop.
She pulled the rope tighter until it seared through flesh, and the Mizunese soldiers fell to their knees.
“Lorn, we need to go,” Jerum shouted over the noise of flames and ice and soldiers charging.
Regretfully, he was right. Lorn followed him back to the seedpods, just as a ball of flame landed beside her and turned back into a Makya. A young male. Lorn summoned a single blade from her flames and swiped strategically at the soldier. Once across each calf before he had the chance to spin around, once across his right arm and his chest. Not so deep that he would bleed out instantly, but enough that he would know his death was imminent without intervention.
He fell to the steel jetty and Lorn dragged him by his collar into her seedpod. “Get in,” she hissed, shoving him inside.
He ripped at his jumpsuit and made a poor attempt at wrapping his wounds.
“What were you doing in Kaliz?” Lorn asked as she pulled at levers and the seedpod sputtered to life. Another duplicitous fool. Beyond the pod, Mizunese and Mak
ya stood and watched them take off from the jetty. Likely too afraid of more casualties. Pathetic.
The male beside her remained quiet as the pod ascended, and for his insolence, Lorn elbowed him on his arm, right where she’d injured him. He grunted and pressed his fingers to the wound.
“Tell me what you know, or I will kill you,” Lorn hissed.
“You’d kill one of your own?”
Lorn swung around to face him, one hand fisted into the neck of his jumpsuit, the other on the controls. “Ohinyan needs to be cleansed of any who are weak. Tell me why you were in Kaliz, working with the Mizunese.” She pushed a knee into the male’s chest, edging him back to the night air beyond the wall of the seedpod.
His eyes widened and words began to spill from him, as if he finally realised she was telling the truth. “The alliance,” he spluttered. “We have shifts, for the mirrors, to maintain temperatures in the cities, to provide light.”
Lorn pulled him closer, so close she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that all Makya possessed. “Where do your commands come from?” The male fell silent, and Lorn dug her nails in beneath his jumpsuit. “Where?”
He cast a look over his shoulder into the darkness, the wind blowing his dark hair across his eyes. “Djira,” he said as he looked back at her.
Lorn pressed her knee harder.
“Please!” the male begged.
Weak. Too weak for Lorn’s liking. “You allowed yourself to be captured. You divulged plans to me. You don’t deserve to watch me rekindle the sun.” She released him, and before he had a chance to realise what was happening, she shoved him from the seedpod into the dark night.
Lorn pulled her goggles over her eyes, a delighted grin spreading across her face. Djira. It was all the information she needed. She pressed on, without so much as a glance at the screaming Makya spiralling away from her, or the burning dockyard below.
Chapter Twenty–Seven
The First Dawn (Daughter of the Phoenix Book Three) Page 19
