Page 54 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Faythe

L eaving the Eternal Woods, it took everything in her not to mount Atherius, whom she passed while heading into town. Jakon said she needed to go to the mill, and though she couldn’t fathom why, she would do anything he asked without question.

She had to pause for a moment before the building she hardly recognized anymore. The structure was a corpse of the joyous place she’d known in childhood. The mill didn’t turn anymore—the gathered green algae indicated it hadn’t in a long time. Nature had staked its claim on the abandoned home. Vines gripped the mortar like a hand ready to drag it under the soil for burial.

Faythe had come here so many times with her mother, then continued to visit and deliver pastries to Mrs. Green while visiting her friend Reuben. She’d first crossed paths with Nik right in this spot, not knowing then, on that seemingly ordinary day, her life would change forever.

The door was already open, and the floorboard groaned louder than ever with her intrusion into the eerie space. Faythe wanted to retreat the moment she took her first steps inside, but she had to discover what Jakon wanted her to see.

Making her way through the familiar hall, she rounded into the long-abandoned kitchen, stripped of all color and joy, but still she could hear the ghost of Mrs. Green’s cheerful greeting. Could scent from memory the glorious warm pies Faythe would bring, and how the mill owner wouldn’t waste a moment to open them and invite Faythe in for a slice. She never refused.

Magick pricked her skin and brought heat to her palms when she first detected she wasn’t alone. Following the first shuffle that gave them away, Faythe tentatively rounded the table, spying the edge of a body huddled behind the tall cabinet.

“Reuben?” Faythe didn’t expect to see him despite this being his former home.

So many conflicted emotions battered her.

The last she’d encountered him, he’d driven a Magestone blade into her shoulder to weaken her before an ambush from the enemy. Reuben’s mind had been torn and tortured so much by Marvellas that his objective of collecting the Light Temple Ruin Faythe possessed had become his sole purpose.

The worst part was…Faythe blamed herself for the fate that had befallen him. It had been her idea to send him across the sea to Lakelaria as the only hope of escape from his crime of spying for Valgard. Even that had been a lie. Reuben was nothing more than a victim of powerful people.

Right now, he appeared no more than a terrified, quivering dog. Faythe couldn’t surface an inkling of anger for what he’d done. Instead she pitied the broken sight of him.

“What are you doing here?” Faythe asked, gentle but not kind.

His tired, frightened gaze slipped up to her. Reuben sat with his knees and arms tucked up to his chest, shaking violently. Faythe sighed, marching into the adjoining living area and swiping a dusty blanket from the sofa. She crouched, slinging it around him. It did nothing to stop his tremors. She didn’t think were only from the cold.

“I-I’m so-so sorry-sorry, Fay-faythe.”

His stammer was so bad he could hardly form words.

Faythe cupped his cheek. “I am too, Reuben. You didn’t deserve this.” She swiped the tear that fell down his cheek.

“C-can you make-make it st-stop? Pl-please.”

She leaned back with the gravity of what he was asking. “This doesn’t have to be the end for you,” she said.

All Reuben had done had been orchestrated by Marvellas. She harbored no true resentment toward Reuben and certainly didn’t want him dead. She’d lost too many people already.

“The claw-claws and the voi-voices, they don’t-don’t stop,” he croaked.

Faythe sat beside him. Tentatively, she slipped her arm behind him and coaxed his head onto her shoulder, where she held it. Carefully, Faythe entered his mind, and she began to shake too. Her eyes flooded from so much torment and shredded thoughts that it was all she could see. There was no light; nothing of hope to search for. Marvellas had stripped away anything warm or joyous to keep him afraid.

Reuben whispered, “I don’t want to-to live like this.”

Tears fell from her eyes as Faythe tried desperately to find a way to heal all that was torn apart in his mind. She didn’t know how to begin repairing the damage that had been done. She tried to sew the tears and tame the shadows. Faythe tried to hush some of the vicious whispers plaguing him and relieve some of the poison running through his thoughts, but it was too much, the damage too permanent.

He was suffering so miserably and painfully every second that Faythe understood his request now.

Reuben said, “I’ll only hurt-hurt you again. She can use me anytime, and when she hears of my running away…she’ll find me and know-know where you are. She’ll know about the ruin if you keep me alive.”

“The ruin?” Faythe asked.

Something tumbled out of a cloth Reuben was holding, and when it did, Faythe grasped, slackening her hold on him not on purpose as a wave of immense power slammed into her.

Familiar, daunting, delicious power.

Faythe’s sight fixed on the ruin. Its markings glowed, and the symbol of Aurialis shone proudly at the peak of the serrated arrow shape.

Her trance was snapped when Reuben quickly threw the rag over it. Whatever it was made of must have powerful suppressing properties like the Blood Box for her not to feel even a hum of its call now.

“I brought it for you,” Reuben said, scooping it up and cradling it.

Relief washed over her. They still had Aurialis’s ruin she’d had to leave behind in Rhyenelle, hoping it would remain hidden where she’d stored it in the catacombs Agalhor had once shown her.

“I followed Izaiah and stole it when I had the chance.” He answered the question blazing in her eyes when they met his.

“What was he doing with it?” Faythe asked.

She’d only told him in case someone needed to retrieve it if she couldn’t.

“He’s been trying to master it.”

That stirred something ugly and suspicious in her. Izaiah had never disclosed his plans. All this time, she’d chosen to have faith in him to believe he wasn’t truly up to anything nefarious. But where was he when Malin murdered Marlowe? Why was he trying to master the ruin? What did he mean when he’d told her he was one step ahead?

Faythe held her hand out for the ruin, their first test of alliance. Reuben hesitated, and Faythe’s heart skipped. She didn’t want to harm him anymore than he’d already suffered. To her relief, he handed it over.

Even concealed, she felt its power caress her skin and stroke her senses. She believed she had enough wrath and power to kill Malin without it. He was nothing compared to her. But with the ruin in her possession, Faythe wouldn’t stop with him—it wouldn’t be enough. She needed the world to feel a fraction of her loss…and Marvellas’s ruin would be her weapon to unleash it.

“We need to go,” Faythe said, making as if to stand.

Reuben gripped her arm to keep her down. His wide eyes turned desperate. “Please, Faythe,” he said in a broken tone. “You’re the only one who can make it painless. Maybe even pleasant. I can’t… Please don’t make me live like this.”

Her heart slammed in her chest. Faythe had never killed to help someone before. The concept felt so twisted. How could it be help if she ended his life? She knew without a doubt he’d suffered incredible pain and torment, but what if he could be saved if he just held on and wanted to fight?

“You have to want to live, Reuben. If you fight back against the shadows and claws, I might be able to help you.”

Reuben shook his head and broke into heart-wrenching sobs. He let her go and began to crawl across the floor. Faythe watched in agony as muttered incoherent thoughts. When he next stopped, hitting his head with his clenched fists, Faythe grabbed his wrists and pulled him into her. He just cried as she held him tight, rocking with him, while he kept mumbling fractured sentences.

“I’m so sorry, Reuben,” she whispered, stroking his hair.

Faythe severed the pain receptor in his mind, and Reuben’s body relaxed a little. They rocked, and she painted bright colors into their surroundings, breathing life back into this mill. She showed him a vision of their past. Faythe chased Reuben around the dining table with a wooden makeshift sword, while Mrs. Green called after them to be careful.

Reuben chuckled faintly. His mumbling began to cease. “I miss my mother,” he said sleepily. “I think I’ll go see her now.”

“She misses you too,” Faythe said with a tight chest. “Rest now, Reuben. No one can hurt you anymore.”

His mind started slipping away gently. “I’ll see you again, won’t I? You’re my…my best friend.”

“I’ll see you again, I promise.”

She pressed her lips to his head as she took the final step to end his pain once and for all. In the silence of death and the grief that followed, holding Reuben’s still body, Faythe became numb. Saying goodbye to another dear friend so soon who had also suffered too much in this war…Faythe became fast-burning fuse.

When she detonated, her enemies would know the true meaning of ruin .