He was met with a mix of glass and stone, and a domed roof that looked as if it might be retractable. A workbench littered with items lined the perimeter, not unlike Okwata’s lab, a large table sat to one side, and just off centre were pieces of equipment Alexander didn’t recognise, some made of metal, some of wood, some a combination of the two. Plants hung from hooks on the walls, and more of the azarna candles lit the space. Ahrek was unrolling maps on the table and nodded a greeting as Alexander made his way to the glass wall on the far side of the room.
Through the glass, Alexander surveyed the city and the path the mirrors lit. Only one Makya was needed to light the first mirror from the way they’d been strategically angled throughout the city, but more Makya walked the city on rotation, and more were out on the docks, some out on the ships, all easy to spot in the dim grey. It was a strange thing to see, the Makya had been an enemy for so long, but he was relieved to see the alliance was working.
“Alexander,” a voice said from behind him.
It was Maab, closely followed by Noor, ready for the meeting. Neither looked as if they’d slept well, and Noor had to duck several times to avoid plants hanging from beams. Pietje followed closely behind them, the highest ranking Makya soldier stationed in Djira. They were just waiting for Malachai, Runa and Altair.
A painting sat opposite the bed in the room Alexander and Fia had slept in, with paint strokes so broad they looked as if they’d been swiped on by hand. And it had given Alexander an idea. “Pietje,” he said by way of greeting. “We’ll need a way of separating the Makya stationed here from those in Lorn’s army. I know at short notice this will be difficult, so I thought we could mark them with white paint. Back, chest and arms; it’s a bit rudimental, but given your clothing requirements and our time constraints, I thought it might suffice.”
Pietje stood as all the Makya soldiers did, arms behind his back, chin high—it was instilled in them all from an early age. But Alexander liked Pietje, he was Par’s grandson, and much of the old woman’s character had rubbed off on him. “It could work. Any kind of fabric band would burn away.”
Alexander had thought as much. “Down in the docks, the boat makers use a paint that is fireproof—it should be sufficient. We’ll give you the coin for the boat makers,” he added.
Pietje nodded in agreement, and they all looked to the stairwell as Altair’s voice carried up to them.
“I’m far too old for this,” Altair wheezed. He still wore his great cloak, and he leaned on his battle staff as he stepped into the room and caught his breath.
“My apologies, Altair, the lift is fully operational. Perhaps you would like to use it for your descent,” Ahrek said, gesturing to a panelled door Alexander hadn’t noticed before. Even the Asharian’s tail seemed to gesture towards it.
Altair tapped his staff on the floor. “And let these young ones think I’m too old for meetings such as this? Never!”
That earned a laugh from the room, and he walked on his own to the table where Ahrek had laid out maps of the city. Alexander didn’t doubt for a moment the old man would still hold his own in a fight, that he would be up there on the wall with the rest of them when Lorn arrived. His instincts urged him to be overprotective, told him it would be better for Altair if he sat this one out, but he’d never offend his friend by suggesting it.
“We need to keep this brief. Fia and I are going to see the sky spirits to find out what we can about the dying sun. We’ve received word Lorn is bringing a fleet of airships from the south. Randin’s army has joined her. Although the docks would be the best place to attack,” he said, running a finger down the map from where they stood to the docks, “the fastest route will be directly from the south, over the wall on the south side of the city.”
“We can station archers along the wall,” Maab said, moving the copper weights Ahrek had supplied as map markers to positions along the wall. There were other maps of Ashar, but this one was a detailed map of the city.
“Good,” Alexander added. “Any scouts need to be in the air looking out for Lorn’s arrival,” he said to Maab. “We’ll position a frontline of soldiers along the wall to back up the archers, with a second wave back in the city. Both the wall and city need ample Makya and Mizunese working together,” he said, this time to Altair and Pietje. Normally he’d have asked for more of their input, but there wasn’t time for that. If they had any objections, he expected they’d raise their concerns there and then. “They’ll use the tunnels too, we need to guard all the entrances and exits.” He pointed to another map Ahrek had laid out, showing the tunnels that ran the length of the city.
Both men agreed, and Alexander continued, not wanting to waste any more time. “Maab, I trust you to coordinate any Nords as you see fit.”
Maab merely nodded. Osara’s betrayal had weighed heavily on him, Alexander could see it in the way Maab had withdrawn into himself, like in those early days when they’d just met. The Nord just needed time, Alexander told himself. “Malachai, are the angels on their way?” he asked his right hand.
Malachai and Runa stood beside each other, their matching gold cuffs catching the light.
“Yes, General Jarl should be with us by tomorrow, just ahead of Lorn’s arrival,” Malachai offered.
Alexander caught the flicker of alarm that crossed Noor’s face at Malachai’s words. “We’re cutting this a little close, aren’t we?” she asked. “We’re lucky Lorn had to wait for Randin’s army to join her.” She had her glider strapped to her back as if she were going to go out patrolling straight after the meeting. She most likely was. There were angels above the city keeping watch even as they spoke.
“It’s the best we can do,” Alexander replied. “We ought to evacuate this part of the city, there’s going to be damage. Ahrek, can you coordinate moving people down to the docks? We should start loading the most vulnerable onto ships, move them along the coast to safety so they’re not trapped in the city.” He pushed more of the markers to a cluster further down the city, halfway between where they stood and the docks. Asharians would not evacuate willingly, but he had to trust Ahrek to evacuate whoever he could. No fight was without casualties, and Randin’s army had already caused enough of those during the last war, without a wild, rogue Makya to lead them.
Ahrek agreed with the suggestion. “We’ll evacuate as many as possible.”
It would have to do. Alexander looked at each of his friends, at Pietje, who could become a friend in time, if they had it. “If I don’t make it back before Lorn’s arrival, follow General Jarl’s command. If he doesn’t make it either, Malachai, I’ll need you to coordinate.”
“There’s a handful of witches in the city, I’ll make sure they’re up on the wall. We’ll conjure up something. But we could really do with your assistance, Alexander. Strong winds could bring down an airship or two,” Noor said, a tiny tornado swirling in her palm. Illusion or real, Alexander wasn’t sure, but Noor had enough tricks to help them slow Lorn down. More witches would be welcomed.
He’d never felt so acutely aware of every passing moment. If only they could stop time, slow Lorn’s arrival, slow the dying sun. “I’ll return to the frontline as soon as I can. I think this is our last chance to find out how Fia can rekindle the sun and we have to take it,” he replied.
Altair pushed a black marker across the centre of the map. “And what if Erebus arrives?”
“We’ll deal with that if and when he does.” Alexander had every intention of dealing with Erebus himself. “I have to go. Is everyone clear?” He paused. “Good, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Before anyone could respond, the lift doors opened and Fia stepped out, her arms full of her copper wingsuit.
Alexander flew to her side and took the wings from her. “Ahrek, is there a balcony?” he asked the Asharian.
Ahrek gestured to a panel in the glass beside him, and sure enough, it was a sliding door.
“Hi, guys, bye, guys,” Fia said with a wave to the others as she stepped outside.
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But Ahrek had already slid the door shut behind them, leaving Alexander alone with Fia on the balcony, the wind blowing her hair across her face. He still sensed that hesitation from her but didn’t want to press her. Instead, he helped her into the wingsuit and asked, “How did it go with Okwata?”
“It went well,” Fia said, her fingers brushing his as she shrugged into the suit. “I’m still surprised nobody was evacuated to Ornax, but when I heard people telling me they didn’t want to go…” She sighed. “What is there to do other than reassure them, to answer their questions about the mirrors and the Makya? To try to tell them everything’s going to be alright.” She shivered as she said the last part.
“Are you cold?” Alexander asked, resisting the urge to pull her close.
She shook her head. “Actually, I don’t seem to feel the cold as much anymore,” she said with a frown as she tested the feel of the suit, shifting her weight from one leg to another to prepare for flight.
Alexander felt as if he’d waited his whole life for this moment, and he wondered if she felt the same anticipation about their first flight together. But there was something he had to tell her before they saw the sky spirits. “I saw Sophie,” he said softly. “When I was on Earth. I went to your Northern Lights, and she was the one to speak to me.”
He didn’t know what reaction he’d expected from Fia, but she hummed quietly. “Sounds like something she would do,” she said with a small smile.
“She told me to tell you that she can hear you. That you know she loves you,” he said, bracing himself for, for what? Her anger? Frustration? He didn’t know.
“That’s exactly what she’d say. Thank you for telling me.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed it for a moment before pulling away. “It’s good to know she’s okay. Shall we?”
They pushed off the balcony, and he remained close to Fia. She soared for a moment, and then the weight of the suit seemed to topple her. He caught her shoulder just as she righted herself. Of course she had. But she still reached for his arms to steady herself as she found the rhythm of the wings again.
“What made you stay?” she asked, her green eyes looking up at him as they hovered above the observatory. Alexander was still marvelling at the novelty of flying beside her. “When you first came to Earth, what made you stay?”
“I left, Fia, you followed me to the cemetery.” A mistake that had almost had both of them captured by the Eternal Dusk.
“No, before that,” she said, examining a switch on the front of the suit. “You stuck around after Sophie’s funeral. Was it just this whole prophecy thing? A sense of duty?”
What had happened whilst she was with Erebus? He wanted to know, but he wanted her to explain only when she was ready, only if she wanted to. Something told him it was the reason why she’d pulled back, why she’d put up this wall between them. “The day you pulled off your sling after you’d spoken with that woman about your studies, I knew if I stayed it would put you in too much danger, and I already knew I couldn’t do that. But still, I stayed, I had to. It was like a thread ran from you to me and I couldn’t help but follow. Even now, here, I feel it.”
She was still testing the weight of the suit but was holding herself just in front of him as if she’d always had wings. She was incredible. She’d learnt to fly in such a short space of time, mastered her powers. Alexander’s own magic hummed beneath his skin, but he was holding onto it as much as he could for their return.
Her brow scrunched as if she were thinking about what he’d said. It seemed like she might say something else, but, “Let’s go,” was all she said in reply.
Alexander thought about what he’d said as they flew away from Djira. It seemed like such a twisted thing to have finally found her when they might have so little time left together. But it felt so right, to fly beside her.
They’d been crossing the ocean for a while when she finally spoke. “Tell me what happened on Earth. How did you find your magic?”
Alexander flew as close to her as he could. The copper wings were almost as wide as his at their fullest, and this close to the water her reflection made her look like she was one of the angels. “It was Earth witches that finally freed Erebus. I didn’t realise it at the time, but that night you followed me into the cemetery, there were witches there, already preparing for Erebus’s release.”
Fia was quiet, listening to his every word. A white bird dived down to catch a fish and Alexander thought of Osara’s death but carried on with his explanation to Fia. He told her about the Eternal Dusk. About the Iders, of Hazel and her fox, Kit.
“Kit?” She laughed. “He helped me get back to Ohinyan, I followed him instead of waiting for Halvar.”
“I think Halvar’s going to be just fine with Jo,” Alexander said with a quiet laugh.
“Jo and Halvar?” Fia raised an eyebrow. “Why does that not surprise me. And I’m relieved, more than anything, that now she has someone.” She smiled as she said it, and Alexander silently promised himself that if they made it through this and the windows re-opened, they’d go to see Jo and Halvar as soon as they could.
“Do you miss Earth?” he asked as they passed a whale breaking the surface for air, Fia’s face full of wonder.
“All I ever wanted was to belong. That night I followed you into the cemetery, I thought it was never going to get any better. That I’d never find my place in the world.” She laughed. “But I found it here. Ohinyan is my home now.” She held his gaze for a moment. “I don’t miss Earth. Only Jo.”
As soon as the windows re-opened, he’d ask if she wanted to go. He already knew the answer would be yes. “What about you. What happened?”
Fia explained about returning to Ohinyan. Going to Alythia. The more they talked, the more the tension began to ease, their questions to each other coming more readily. She told him about Arion’s death and Erebus finding her, about what it was like in his prison. “He seems so lost,” she said.
“Was it him who taught you how to use your powers?”
Fia shook her head. “He explained it, but at first all I could do was summon a tiny spark of blue in the prison.” She held out her palm as she said it. “It was Lorn who truly taught me. But…”
“What is it?
“Every so often with Rainn and the others, with all the evanescing, it was like I could take a little bit of their power, but I didn’t know how or why. Before Erebus left Djira he said I was syphoning from them,” Fia explained.
A powerful and dangerous gift. Alexander didn’t want to think about how close she’d have to get to Erebus to use her ability, but it might be their only chance of stopping him. “Do you think you could syphon Erebus’s power?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t got as much control over it yet as I’d hoped.” She closed her hand into a fist as she spoke, and he saw the frustration written across her face.
Alexander tapped her shoulder with a wing. “You can practice on me if you’d like.”
She laughed at that. They reached land and more of the tension melted away. They fell back into the easiness they’d had between them before he’d taken her back to Earth, as Fia spun around and over in the air and he followed, both of them breaking into laughter. It was so easy to believe their life could be like this, that they weren’t flying head first into more bad news.
Every moment with her could be their last moment together, and he knew she felt it too. It was borrowed time, all of it. Ohinyan is my home now. He thought of Fia’s words as snow blurred by beneath them. It was as if she’d always belonged there. And it was that sense of duty to Ohinyan that urged them both forwards to the ribbons of colour on the horizon.
Chapter Thirty
Lorn
W hat remained of Randin’s army had turned out to be a disappointment. Four ships had arrived outside Kaliz, rudimental airships with canvas balloons, of all things. It had been known throughout Ohinyan that Randin’s army had disbanded after his disappearance, but there had always been rumou
rs of his general regathering the troops. Lorn had hoped they’d have all been loyal to his cause but she shouldn’t have been surprised that they weren’t. And what had been more surprising to Lorn, was that Randin’s general was a woman.
Nuala was a proud woman, Lorn would give her that. She had a quality about her that reminded Lorn of her tutor, Rada, but that in itself was a warning. That Nuala would only be another person to disappoint her in the end.
Sparks whispered at her fingertips, but Lorn held on to every ounce of power she had. She wanted to unleash it all on Djira. The people of Ohinyan were wretched things, and they’d follow whoever forced themselves into a position of authority. They will follow you. Not Fia. What could the girl do anyway? She was useless. Pathetic. Those sparks longed to turn into roaring flames, and she willed them to fizzle into nothing.
Lorn turned her attention back to the conversation. Nuala stood dangerously close to Jerum, laughing at something he’d said, and Lorn was taken right back to the day she’d found Rada and Jerum in bed together. Those sparks flared again for a moment along with her jealousy—a stupid urge to feel eyes on her the way Nuala was looking at her brother. The way Alexander and Erebus looked at Fia. Even Rada had chosen Jerum over her. You will never be enough, a voice in her head whispered, and she gritted her teeth against it.
“Well,” she said, clapping her hands together sharply enough to make Nuala take a step back. The general smoothed her short hair back with one hand, a bad habit of hers. Poor form, for a general to fidget.
“I’ll be returning to my ship. We’ll be ready to depart soon,” Nuala said with a warm smile. She carried a sword across her back that was said to hold a witch’s magic; it had some kind of pull on a life force if the rumours were true. The rest of her attire was a rudimentary armour; bracers at her wrists, leather greaves over ill-fitted black trousers. Nuala had a rough edge about her, one of a woman who had had to fight to keep her title, to fight for her king, to fight for him after he disappeared. But the woman was loyal. Another mark in her favour.
The First Dawn (Daughter of the Phoenix Book Three) Page 22
