Page 74 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
Zaiana
Z aiana couldn’t place what she felt staring in the mirror. It was strange how a drastic change of attire could shift the type of person within the silk and lace. She was free to grasp her emotions now, but still they unsettled her. The prickling in her eyes fought against tears, and her mind chastised the pitiful reason she wanted to cry.
Out of joy, perhaps. If that was what the warmth in her was.
Zaiana had never cared for her beauty, but tonight she did. Because this time it was for her, no one else.
She took her time running her fingers along the deep purple accents on the black gown. The bodice hugged her torso securely since the straps offered no support, just a beautiful elegance of draped purple silk falling off her shoulders. The crystals gave her comfort with their illusion of constellations—she was wearing the night sky she loved on her body. The skirts were long and layered, transitioning from black to purple.
Zaiana wondered if she’d made a mistake in refusing any servant help to get ready for this ball. The dress was so perfect, but she didn’t know how to style her hair beyond a braid for combat, so it was loose and curly, bound to annoy her throughout the night.
She knew it was past the time she’d agreed to meet the others for this. The ball should have started by now—they wouldn’t hold off to wait for her. Zaiana couldn’t push down the nerves over her appearance to leave her room.
Everything was foreign to her. The kingdom she was a fugitive in, the dress she wore, the feelings knotting inside her. Zaiana was about to peel herself out the dress and abandon the ball. She could brace herself from the shadows should the enemy strike like they anticipated.
A knock stiffened her spine, and Zaiana spun, taking a step to reach the door and lock it before the intruder could welcome themselves in.
She didn’t get beyond that step, and there was only one person who would enter without an invitation.
Kyleer stared at her with just as much shock as she held on him.
He looked… Spirits be damned, every word dissipated to describe how beautiful he looked dressed up in finery. There was nothing that seemed fitting enough.
He always carried his marvelous feathered wings rising above his head. There was still time to discover if he could glamour, but so far he’d had no success. She loved his wings, having to resist the urge to run her hand along them every time he was near. He wore all-black, no crimson for his kingdom, and she wondered if he’d avoided it because he didn’t know where he belonged with his memories lost.
“Zai…” Kyleer spoke her name in a lost breath.
She picked at her skirts, unfamiliar with these nerves coiling like a festering entity within her. Not feeling anything might have been easier, but she didn’t want to go back to that cold place.
“The party started nearly an hour ago,” he informed her, blinking as if breaking himself from a trance.
“I know.”
Kyleer closed the door behind himself. His eyes never left her.
“You didn’t have to come for me,” she said.
His smile fluttered in her chest. “It’s completely dull down there without you.”
“It’s not like I’m one to offer any life to a party.”
He came closer, and her stomach tightened. “Your company is all the life I need.”
Kyleer left only a few inches of space between them before brushing light fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She wasn’t accustomed to this kind of tenderness, but she craved it from him.
“It’s just as well you haven’t come down yet,” he said. “It gives the others some time to enjoy the attention before you steal it all.”
Zaiana pushed his chest, intended as a nervous gesture from the outlandish compliment, but he caught her wrist, eliminating that slither of cold when he tugged her against him.
“You are the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.” He stole her breath with mere words. “My beautiful nightmare.”
He brought his lips to hers in a single deep kiss that made her forget her tension for a moment.
Kyleer said, “I will stay with you up here if that’s what you choose, but I think you’d enjoy the music, perhaps even a dance.”
“I don’t need you to stay with me anywhere.”
Zaiana cursed herself internally. She was trying not to push everything away at the slightest hint she wanted it.
Kyleer only smiled again, sweeping the front of her loose hair back from her face. He fixed his arm around her more purposely while his other fingers traced down her arm, breaking a shiver. He took her hand in his, raising them, and she flushed with his intention.
“Will you dance with me, Zai?”
“There’s no music here.”
Kyleer slackened his hold only to pull her toward the balcony. The winter air was sharp, but she was distracted by the music she heard distantly when he opened the doors. Piano and strings wove a melody through the crisp night, and her senses opened to it, craving more.
“Now there is,” he said, resuming their stance.
Zaiana was overcome with emotion, wanting to hold onto him so tightly when anything precious had a habit of slipping away from her. Of dying. She’d watched Kyleer die once, and it had been the worst moment of her existence, and now the price of loving him was to live with this festering, terrible fear that he could leave her in one way or another and rip half her heart away with him.
Her thoughts rewound, replaying one terrifying but exhilarating confession.
She loved him.
Zaiana stopped their gentle swaying, letting him go abruptly.
“Is my dancing really that bad?”
She shook her head, latched onto his moss-green irises and falling through them. “You’re perfect,” she whispered.
She fell so fast and deeply there was no stopping it now. No amount of denial could spread her wings to stop this plummet. Because he became her wings. With the ability to let her go and watch her shatter beyond repair, or hold her tight and fly through eternity with her.
Zaiana believed love truly made fools out of people.
She turned, lifting her skirts and jumping up onto the balcony’s stone ledge. Her leather pants in preparation for battle at a moment’s notice kept the chill from sweeping under her dress. When she turned back to him, Kyleer jerked forward, his eyes wide with shock and concern.
“What are you doing?”
“Testing whether you’ll let me fall.”
Zaiana had lost her sanity, casting her arms out and tipping back into gravity’s claim.
Her hair and dress billowed around her, and the air wrapped her tightly. Her mind, body, and soul were at complete peace without her wings, anticipating the strong arm that curved around her middle, slowing her descent, before scooping her legs, cradling her body.
Their faces were so close. Kyleer’s rugged features softened against the moonlight.
“Never,” he said, pressing his lips to hers.
Euphoria beat in her chest as he carried them higher and higher. She didn’t want this feeling to end, holding it dear in her chest for times when he wasn’t near to breathe life into it.
Zaiana glanced over the landscape that glimmered beneath them. She’d flown countless times, and yet there was something new, magickal, about the sight below her now. It was all because of who she shared it with.
On the outskirts of Farrowhold, fire flew through the air. What a peculiar type of celebration , she thought. Were the humans in the outer town juggling torches? Had a small circus come to join the Yulemas and wedding celebration?
It was only a couple at first, but more joined. Then the pattern of flames darting through the air began to make a formation.
Zaiana’s body stiffened.
“Are you cold?” Kyleer asked, thinking that was the reason for her tension as she watched the score of amber fire over his shoulder.
“High Farrow has been infiltrated,” Zaiana said. Her wings unglamored, and she let go of Kyleer. Now she knew what she was looking at— fire arrows —the situation turned worse.
Squinting, she could vaguely make out the bodies moving in the darkness. It was impossible to tell numbers, to see if this was just another test of their defenses, though it was concerning they’d gotten this close, within Farrowhold, without Reylan’s scout regimen reporting back.
“We have to alert Reylan,” Kyleer said.
Zaiana nodded, falling into a dive toward the castle.
She tore off her skirt in her rooms, though it kind of disappointed her to do so. She hadn’t made it to the ball, yet she’d danced with Kyleer in their own bubble away from the world, and that was worth more than any lavish party. She swiped up her sword belt, fixing it to her back as they ran through the halls.
Guards directed them to where Faythe Ashfyre and the others were. In lucky timing, they’d stepped away from the ballroom for a moment.
The reception room they found them in was bright with laughter as the company sat and stood around the fire, clearly lost in the throes of friendship. Reylan was the first to notice their disruption, standing from the arm of the chair Faythe sat on and setting his cup on the mantel.
“We’re under attack,” Zaiana said, then she explained what she’d seen.
Everyone wore attire quickly changeable for combat, with dress skirts detaching to reveal leather pants, while the males wore more combat-ready formal attire anyway. Their weapons were stashed in this room. They’d been prepared for a potential ambush, only they’d expected Marvellas herself, not an odd attack on the town’s outskirts.
Reylan directed several guards, setting certain protocols in motion.
“I’m going to retrieve the ruin,” Faythe said.
Zaiana nodded, skimming her eyes to the occupied general while Faythe slipped out.
“Where do you want me?” Zaiana asked Reylan.
It was just as surprising for her to request to be stationed, and even he lifted an eyebrow at her.
“We have a small Rhyenelle legion stationed on the east outskirts. They have a commander, but they could use a general, and you’d get there fastest.”
Zaiana had led many legions before in far more ruthless battles, so she didn’t know why it felt like pride that fluttered in her fragile heart. The world really was ending if she was growing a mutual respect—dare she say, a potential friendship? —with Reylan Arrowood.
“Of course.” She accepted the position with a nod before heading out.
“Take Kyleer with you,” he called.
Kyleer jogged up to her, and she welcomed the experienced company. She’d trained with him since being here, and they’d discovered that when Kyleer was faced with something he was a natural at, it slowly came back to him in practice, like the many attack and defense sequences he knew.
Before she got to the door, however, the person who sauntered in through it made her halt.
Rainyte Ashfyre.
They thought they’d seen the back of him when Reylan informed them he’d gone to the mirrors below the castle. Yet here he was, to her irritation, still wearing the face of Captain Daegal. What was more concerning was how he pushed Jakon in with him.
“You’re still here?” Reylan said, his tone dark with distrust.
“Unfortunately so. I wish you would all at least pretend to be glad to see me.”
“Why?” Zaiana asked, just as on edge.
“Well, considering I helped Faythe in her cell, and I’m all but the reason you escaped Lakelaria, a little appreciation would?—”
“Why are you still here?” Zaiana bit out.
Nyte sighed, slipping a hand into his pocket. They didn’t have time for this distraction.
“The creature in the mirrors—a Dresair?—is a pesky, tormenting thing. It said if I tried to cross while I had unfinished business here, my mind would never return to my body. My passage isn’t the same as when I first Realm-Walked since my mind is separated. It was enough doubt that I wouldn’t make it back to my realm that I reconsidered my time here.”
“Why have you dragged Jakon here?” Izaiah asked, edging closer to the human as if Nyte might lunge to use Jakon as a hostage.
“The Dresair shared an interesting piece of insight. From my observations, I’m assuming he’s important to Faythe Ashfyre.” He turned his attention to Jakon. “Show them.”
Jakon’s stare was absolutely lethal on Nyte, and she had to pity the human who knew he was powerless here. Jakon produced something from the inside of his jacket, and when the cloth was removed, Zaiana stared at the blade in shock.
It was made from a ruin, and the longer she listened to its whispers, she felt strongly that it was Marvellas’s.
“All of you are so eager to die the hero,” Nyte sang.
Jakon had stolen the ruin. When he’d done so wasn’t important. Did this human really think he could be the one to get close enough to kill Marvellas with it?
“Here we were, planning to run it through her heart blunt,” Izaiah said, taking the blade from Jakon. “This is nice work.”
“You’re a damned fool,” Zaiana muttered vacantly. She didn’t stare at the ruin crafted into a blade with anything but foreboding. “How long have you been slamming into that ruin to reshape it?”
“Since Faythe got it from Reuben,” Jakon said. Everything about him was so cold and detached. There was a part of her that sympathized with his loss, but it had made him thoughtless.
Zaiana cast a glance over the others, who watched her with question. “Marvellas has known since then that her ruin is still intact. She’s known since then exactly where it is. I’ve felt its power in pulses too, though I didn’t realize what it was until now.”
The silence that fell slammed with realization.
Izaiah said, “Then why hasn’t she come for it yet?”
That was the question that raced Zaiana’s heart. Why indeed.
“We need to deal with this attack,” Reylan said. He looked around the room, realizing Faythe wasn’t here.
“She went to retrieve the ruin. She’ll panic when she finds Marvellas’s missing,” Zaiana said.
They’d been training with Aurialis’s ruin and had kept both of them separate.
“I’m going to her,” Reylan said, leaving the room.
Izaiah asked Jakon, “Why did you do this?”
“Marlowe left the blueprint. I figured it had to be done, though it wasn’t easy.”
Why would the Oracle leave instruction to turn the ruin into a blade? For ease to plunge it into the Spirit’s heart? Their fae strength could have achieved it without the point.
“We don’t have time for this right now,” Zaiana said. Before she left for her station, she warned the others, “Marvellas doesn’t need an army to infiltrate this place. If this attack is part of Dakodas and Mordecai’s planning, she might very well use the distraction to slip in and retrieve that ruin dagger.”