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

CHAPTER FIVE

Faythe

T hey gathered around a table in the main room of the inn, but heavy silence lingered, with no one knowing how to begin their tale.

Faythe swirled fingers around the rim of her tankard until Nik, seated beside her, placed a hand over her other on the table.

“We heard news in some of the towns that Ellium has been invaded,” he said gently, trying to ease into the story she couldn’t bring herself to explain.

Her lips parted a few times, trying to arrange the words and be able to deliver them without breaking down again.

“The king?—”

“I know,” Nik said, and her brow pinched, unable to meet his gaze.

“I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t save him or Reylan. She has him, Nik. Marvellas took him, and I haven’t been able to figure out where.”

His fingers squeezed hers. “You will. The war isn’t over yet.”

“It’s barely begun,” Kyleer muttered.

“Where is Tauria?” Faythe dreaded to ask, still clinging to the hope the fact Nik was here without her didn’t mean something awful had happened.

But it seemed they were both walking in their worst nightmares.

“Mordecai has taken her to Fenstead.”

Faythe sat back. “Mordecai,” she repeated, the name uncoiling something dark and foreboding in her spine. “Then why are you here?” she asked.

“We were looking for you,” Lycus answered.

Nik said, his shoulders deflating, “Our resources are limited. I have High Farrow’s armies ready to march, but it will not be enough. We’ve always known this.”

That caused her to flick an expectant glance at Tarly, who sat silently, close to Nerida.

“You have Olmstone’s army too?” she inserted, figuring now it made sense why the prince was with them.

“No,” Nik said.

Faythe’s head whipped back to him, confused. He dove a hand through his inky black hair in exasperation.

“We came to ask you for help, actually, hoping you might be able to assist knowing what is left—and what has been rebuilt—of Fenstead’s armies is in Rhyenelle too. Then we heard what happened. We were already close, and I had to see for myself you’d made it out.”

Faythe’s gut sank with his explanation. She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t help anyone. “What’s the plan now?”

“I’m going to Tauria regardless. I’ve been able to Nightwalk to her, but I won’t leave her with Mordecai no matter what she was planning in going with him.”

Her relief at that enlightenment quickly faded at her sorrow. Nik could still reach Tauria through Nightwalking, but Faythe had failed to reach Reylan that way. He knew exactly where she was, while Reylan remained lost.

“She is well then?” Faythe asked.

Nik gave a bittersweet smile. “They haven’t harmed her, and she’s coping just fine given the situation. I shouldn’t have had any doubt. She’s come up with a clever way of keeping me informed. Though it’s not the same as when you and I meet each other in Nightwalking. Tauria can’t interact with me that way.”

“She hasn’t told you why she went with him?” Kyleer cut in.

“Tauria has always been fiercely spirited, especially when it comes to her people. She hasn’t been hiding in High Farrow—she was biding her time. When the opportunity came to be taken into the heart of her kingdom, I’m not surprised she took it. It kills me she’s in the arms of the enemy, but strategically, it’s smart. She can learn a lot within those walls. I believe in her.”

So did Faythe. As long as Tauria wasn’t being harmed, they had time.

Nik drummed his fingers on the table, staring at nothing in particular as his thoughts turned.

“Did Rhyenelle lose many warriors in the Battle of Ellium?” Nik inquired.

Kyleer answered. “Not enough to severely dent our numbers. Given that it was an inside job, it was over before it began. Rhyenelle doesn’t earn its esteemed military reputation merely for effective training. Our city may have never fallen, but our kings have never been arrogant enough to believe it could never happen. If the city ever did fall, our armies and our armadas know where to go to await further instruction.”

Nik mulled over that information for a solitary moment.

“You’re a great leader for your people,” Nik said to her. “I must be a leader for mine too, and that includes Fenstead now. I don’t want to take away from what you need, but Tauria’s army is among yours, and I must call for them to join me in taking back their kingdom.”

“Then we won’t be enough to take back ours,” Faythe argued.

“I’m sorry, but they’re not yours to command anymore.”

“Fenstead would have no army if it weren’t for my father. You would make them abandon Rhyenelle in its worst moment when it gave them everything during theirs?”

Nik sighed deeply. Faythe hated this tension. In this conversation, friendship had to come second to the monarchs they were.

“There has to be a way to help each other,” he said in a grumble of frustration.

Kyleer said, “I hate to admit this, but Rhyenelle isn’t under immediate threat right now. With Malin still alive, and with no one knowing of his role in the battle, our kingdom has a reigning Ashfyre, so the civilians should be safe. We don’t need our armies right now, but I’m not in favor of sending them to Fenstead without any sure strategy we’re a part of either. You’re both motivated by grief for your mates. Much as you are the queen and king of your respective kingdoms, you have to lean on our judgment for this.”

Lycus said, “I agree. Though I want to call upon every army I can to storm Fenstead for Tauria, that’s an emotional response that will lose us precious resources. Our best course of action is to continue on alone, to scout and keep checking whether she’s managed to discover anything pivotal from the inside.”

Nik wasn’t pleased with the idea, but he knew the generals were right.

Nik said, “If it’s all the same to you, we’d like to sit in on your next meeting with your generals. I figure they must be frequent while you’re figuring out your next movements.”

Kyleer nodded. “Of course. I think we could all benefit from keeping track of each other and figuring out a plan to join together again once we have Reylan and Tauria back.”

Nik slung an arm around Faythe, defusing some of the tension building in them.

“How are your abilities coming along?” Nerida asked.

“Firewielding is easy. I can somewhat Shadowport. And I think I can summon lightning now, but it’s the most unpredictable.”

“Lightning, huh?” Nik hooked a brow toward her.

Faythe twitched a smile. “A lot has changed. More than just pointy ears,” she said.

Nik’s smile widened as he flicked the tip of her ear. It triggered a smile long forgotten on Faythe’s mouth too as she batted his hand away.

“You met Zaiana again?” Nerida inquired, her interest brightening.

Faythe nodded, wondering what Nerida saw in Zaiana to think of her so fondly despite having traveled in the dark fae’s company against her will.

“The dark fae?” Nik inquired. She’d forgotten the glimpse of Zaiana she’d shown him in a memory of the fire mountains. “She’s a Stormcaster?”

Faythe supposed his wonder was justified since the ability was rare. She nodded in answer, and Nik seemed to travel somewhere with the knowledge.

“How do you harbor so many talents?” Lycus asked.

“When I feel someone’s ability, I can learn them. Some are far harder than others.”

“Like Reylan?” Nik asked.

“I can… keep the ability,” Faythe admitted.

“Well damn,” Tarly said. “You’re a whole arsenal.”

Faythe didn’t know much about the prince, having only seen and not interacted with him during the kings’ meetings in High Farrow that felt in another lifetime now. He seemed changed from that prickly prince. Not entirely, but as though layers of him had shed since then.

“Not to be rude, but why are you here?” Faythe asked him.

His expression turned guarded, as though he regretted speaking at all and wanted to remain a lurking shadow. The smile Nerida cast him over her shoulder seemed to ease some of the tension squaring his defense.

“Olmstone has fallen too,” Nik said.

“It has not fallen, ” Tarly objected.

“It’s not exactly in Wolverlon hands now, is it?”

That hadn’t changed. The stand-off between Nik and Tarly was the only familiar aura.

“Do you think I don’t know High Farrow was close to finding a new reigning name too?” Tarly bit back.

“Close to and being taken are not the same, prince. ”

Tarly shifted until Nerida’s hand eased over his.

“You two have far more pressing battles to focus your attention on,” she said with an edge of vexation that told Faythe it wasn’t the first time she’d had to defuse their bickering.

Faythe shook her head, thrilled to see every person in Nik’s company, but one by one the ensemble became confusing. The unlikely group that had found her.

“How are you all together?” Faythe asked plainly.

“It’s quite a long story,” Nik said as he took a long drink and then set down his empty tankard. “We might need refills.”

Half-sister.

Faythe couldn’t stop stealing glances at Nerida with the stunning revelation. It seemed so glaringly obvious now. The resemblance Nerida shared with Tauria opened a new clarity, and most of all, Faythe felt it the healer’s eyes. The color and shape of them tugged on a string of yearning for Tauria.

Though that was all the explanation Nerida had shared, Faythe couldn’t settle knowing there was far more to her tale she was still keeping guarded. After parting from Faythe months ago, Nerida had crossed paths with the runaway prince beside her, and they’d kept each other company while Nerida sought out a particular book she suspected could hold answers about the Spirits.

The fall of Olmstone clashed with Faythe’s own memories of Ellium. On that level, she thought she could come to find common ground with Tarly Wolverlon despite his clear reluctance to open up to anyone as he held back most of the time.

Then there was Lycus. His presence was the least surprising considering the circumstances surrounding his queen. But hearing of the events leading to Tauria’s willing capture strained Faythe’s urgency in two opposite directions.

Her mate and her dear friend.

“How have you been sleeping?” Nik asked quietly, and she realized he was the only one who could relate to her type of unrest.

“I combatted the nightmares once, but maybe I’m not strong enough anymore.”

“Or you’re punishing yourself. Not accepting your failures since you haven’t fixed them yet. I know…because I can’t allow myself peace until Tauria is with me again either.”

Faythe’s eyes pricked with tears, and she nodded, leaning into his side-embrace as it opened.

“I miss him,” Faythe whispered.

He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I know. I wish there was something I could say to ease your torment, but there’s nothing anyone could do to soften mine.”

Faythe was so damn grateful to have him here. After all that had happened, his presence and those he’d come with was enough to tighten the straining seams on her grief, and she hoped it would be enough to hold her together until she found Reylan.

“Can you still reach Tauria through your bond as well?”

Nik dropped his gaze, and the others seemed to pause their idle chatter at overhearing her question. Dread sent a chill over her skin.

“Marvellas broke our bond,” Nik said, his tone hollow.

Tarly shifted closer to Nerida. Lycus tensed. Kyleer turned wide-eyed, and Faythe… It impacted her like something had slammed into her gut, and hands choked her throat at the same time.

Then a heat of rage slowly crawled across her skin.

Within her, the tether to Reylan that ran through her pulled. It had been so quiet and distant, but at least it was still there. Her bond to Reylan wasn’t claimed, and though she may have been able to find him quicker if it were, the risk of Marvellas being able to break it made her glad they hadn’t had the chance to tie it yet.

“Faythe.” Nik said her name carefully.

Following his line of sight, she caught the gold essence diffusing out from her under palm, which she’d flattened on the table.

When she lifted it, the mark she wore was branded into the wood.

Marvellas’s symbol, flaring brightly for seconds as if it were laughing at its presence here.

Faythe had become more and more sickened by the thought of being of her bloodline. The only time her disgust quelled was when she focused her determination enough to remember, through Faythe, Marvellas would be her own downfall.

“I’m going to kill her,” Faythe said, locking that promise tighter within herself. Then her attention turned to Nik. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “We gave it willingly, knowing neither Marvellas nor Mordecai would trust her with ties to me. We wanted to get Dakodas’s ruin, but it seems that was all wasted planning.”

“What if Dakodas left it with Mordecai for safekeeping in Fenstead?” Faythe suggested.

“I wouldn’t be hopeful about her entrusting the one thing that could kill her to anyone else’s hands,” Kyleer chimed in.

Nerida said, “Technically, it can’t truly be in her hands either. The Spirits can’t hold their own ruins. She would have someone close to her guarding it.”

“Do you think it’s in Rhyenelle then?” Kyleer pondered.

Faythe blanched. “That would mean two of the ruins we need are there.”

“And they have the one person who knows how to use them,” Kyleer added gruffly.

“Zaiana,” Faythe said in answer to the questioning glances of the others. “She’s unparalleled with the amplified power.”

“She’s the only one who can wield them?” Nik asked.

“As far we know. I don’t think she lied about that,” Kyleer admitted reluctantly. He asked her, “I’m trusting you have the Light Temple ruin well-hidden?”

Faythe had hidden it well, but now she was doubting. “I only entrusted one person with the knowledge of where it is, in case anything happened to me.” Faythe’s stomach knotted. “Izaiah.”

Kyleer swore, settling his flash of upset and anger in a castaway glance.

Faythe went on, “He might not have told me his plan, but I don’t believe he’s truly working for them. It doesn’t make any sense. I was barely half-conscious when he took me to the courtyard after the battle was lost, but what he said?—”

“That he’s one step ahead? Hardly a soothing statement that it’s not for the enemy. He could have shapeshifted and come to explain it to me by now,” Kyleer muttered bitterly.

“They’ll be watching him far too closely. I don’t know what he’s planning, but I trust him.”

While he was still dealing with the sting of betrayal from his brother, Kyleer wouldn’t admit Faythe’s declaration eased his tense shoulders.

“Just one ruin grants a powerful upper hand. Right now our greatest enemies are circling around them all. Perhaps we should be devising a plan to infiltrate the castle ourselves to retrieve the Light Temple Ruin,” Faythe said.

“You can’t wield it. Best leave it secured if you’re confident in its location. Marvellas is hunting you, and if she gets you and the ruin, it’ll lose us the war,” Kyleer countered.

“I can use it—I just…don’t have control with it.” She cringed at the memory of such devastating power coursing through her.

“You mean it’s a huge risk to your life to try it,” Nik said. “I remember it nearly costing you your life in High Farrow. There’s no way you’re exposing yourself to that.”

“I was human then.”

Kyleer said, “You could easily become too overpowered in your fae body too. You need someone to teach you how to wield it, or you’re at more risk of it killing you than helping you.”

Someone to teach her.

A memory unlocked in her mind so clearly then she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner. Or perhaps she had, in some part of her subconscious that had always known Zaiana was important. That it was crucial they secured her to their side.

“Find the teacher who tames the storm.”

Aurialis had told her that.

Her vacant stare had settled on Kyleer as she’d pieced together that riddle, and he was becoming far too in tune with her thoughts. His pinched brow of concern smoothed out as if Zaiana’s name had been pushed from her brain and was scribbled across her forehead.

“We could never trust Zaiana on our side. Even if we kidnapped her, forced her, she’s far too cunning and would find a way to turn anything we tried to learn from her against us,” Kyleer protested, his voice so torn with hurt under the firmness.

“Taking back any kingdom means nothing if they use Zaiana and the ruins to destroy them. Worse, Marvellas’s goal is to destroy her own ruin, and then we have no hope of ridding the world of her. None.”

Faythe’s daunting dread grew the longer she pondered the options.

“We all need to get some sleep. This kind of decision on where to move next isn’t going to be solved in a night,” Nerida advised. Her eyes turned to pity, casting over Faythe. “I have a tonic, and with my magick, it’ll send you into a deep enough rest that your Nightwalking shouldn’t be able to surface.”

“It works,” Nik confirmed, giving the healer a smile of gratitude.

Faythe nodded. “Thank you.”

Kyleer stood after draining his drink and wandered over to the ensemble in the corner who had paused their music for a break. Faythe’s gaze caught on the quiet fae in their company. Samara—she’d learned her name. Her elegance and poise almost seemed out of place among them, but it was clear she was trying to fit in, and Lycus whispered occasional assurances to her.

Kyleer returned as the small band took up their playing stances again, and soft music began to fill the space.

“I’ll be heading back to the camp for however many peaceful hours I can get,” he announced.

“We’ll get some rooms upstairs.” Lycus spoke, guiding Samara out of the booth.

Faythe gave a nod to them, wanting to finish her drink before she attempted sleep.

The song the players wove grew on her drowsiness, and she leaned back against the booth as the words began.

She was so exhausted in her mind. Every thought was misery. Every step was hollow. Peace would never find her until she found him .

Nik slouched down with her and lifted his tankard. Faythe huffed, clinking hers against it—a cheers to their matching heartache—before they drank.

“I always pictured we’d be meeting again under far better circumstances,” he mused sadly.

Faythe leaned her head on his shoulder. “As Faythe and the fae guard in the woods?”

Nik’s light chuckle was a brightness bursting against the clouds of darkness around her heart.

Tarly and Nerida stayed with them in the main room, which had quietened in the small hours. Faythe’s lids fluttered even without a tonic. They should retire for the night, and at least with the healer’s help, she didn’t have to fear it.

Still, she wanted to bask in this moment with Nik, and she tuned in to the song as the bustle began to fade away.

Come fly the Phoenix, come soar the sun,

Fall a monarch’s reign, another will return.

Come fly the Griffin, come rally the night,

Answer all and stand as one, together they will fight.

The song kept going, and some lines would repeat. Faythe nestled in closer to Nik as she felt herself drifting with it.

“How long has it been since you slept?” Nik asked.

Faythe couldn’t be certain when the fleeting hours she’d captured here and there were riddled with unrest. But with Nik here, his scent soothed the ache within her just enough to want the deep sleep.

“She needs it more than any of us,” Nerida said.

“Come on.” Nik pulled her gently with him as he left the booth.

Faythe groaned, almost reaching to grip the table in a childish display of protest. Nik was swift, hooking her around the middle until she stood. The song wasn’t over, and she was enjoying it.

Come fly the Phoenix, come soar the sun.

Nik steered her toward the stairs.

Fall a monarch’s reign, another will return.

“We’re going to get them back,” Nik said to her.

Faythe nodded, though he didn’t see it.

Come fly the Griffin, come rally the night.

“I have something I need to tell you,” she mumbled sleepily.

How would he react to the revelation of her soul’s long past when she didn’t even hold the full memory of it?

“Save it,” he said. “I’m not disappearing through the night.”

This was it. The sound of war that had always been background noise now came to terrifying life as a crescendo of pounding drums she felt in her chest.

Answer all and stand as one, together they will fight.