Page 77 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

Zaiana

Z aiana arrived while the outskirt legion was forming their lines for the impending attack from the east. She surveyed the small field, rearranging the formations in her mind before she swooped down.

A rogue arrow fired in blind fear whizzed for her. Zaiana’s body twisted in the air, grabbing the arrow stick before she landed in a graceful crouch. Her eyes flashed up, finding the archer, who quivered with wide eyes on her. He fumbled for another arrow before Kyleer’s voice called out with sharp wrath.

“Stand down.”

They knew him at least. Though their armies had been informed about her and other potential dark fae allies like Tynan and Amaya, who accompanied her now, this soldier was nothing but an inexperienced, reckless fool.

Zaiana said, loud enough to catch the front lines, “If anyone else is prone to firing so thoughtlessly, lay down your bow now and move to the back of the lines before you get yourself, or a comrade, killed in a heartbeat.”

The soldier who tried to strike her was pulled out by a commander, stripped of his bow, and led away. No one else moved.

Folding her arms behind her, Zaiana surveyed the front line. “My name is Zaiana. I am your general, and you will answer to me without question. Once again, if anyone has a problem with that, step out now.”

No one moved. In fact, to her satisfaction, most squared their stances. Focused. Determined. Ready to abide by her leadership. This was a Rhyenelle legion, and they had the utmost loyalty and belief in Reylan Arrowood. By his word, they were choosing to stake their belief in her to lead them through this battle. She had expected more resistance and fear, but she was glad to have charge of a predominantly fierce legion. It was a small force compared to what she’d led before for the dark fae, but better than numbers was the strength and skill of these warriors.

Zaiana’s advantage in this fight was that she knew the enemy. Had fought among them and knew the ways of every dark fae attack strategy. The commanders listened to her instruction, and with expert swiftness, their lines were reorganized, the arches better instructed, along with spearmen for the likelihood of aerial attacks. She quickly schooled them on the weakest parts of the wings, which would incapacitate dark fae more efficiently.

Though she was leading an attack against her kind, these were not her people. She’d announced herself clearly from her actions under the mountain before she collapsed it. Word would have spread through the dark fae ranks, and it was their choice whether to believe and join her, or brand her a traitor and face her on the field.

This war would bring to light once and for all that it had never been one species against another. It was power against power, a clash of vision and belief, different perceptions of the world they wanted to live in.

Izaiah had come with them, helping pass her orders through the other commanders. He was another highly respected leader these soldiers turned to for guidance.

“You’re magnificent,” Kyleer commented when she stood alone, assessing the soldiers for the third time. The enemy would be upon them any minute now.

“You don’t need to flatter me,” she said, strolling down the front line.

“Just admiring.”

Kyleer’s hand slipped across her lower back, and he stopped her pace by tugging her to him.

“This is distracting and inappropriate for the soldiers to witness,” she said, but her tone was enticing of its own accord.

“We’re about to face a whole lot of fighting and bloodshed—we’re granted a little distraction. As for the soldiers…I don’t really care.” His lips came down on hers, hard and needy.

The kiss was short, but it stole her breath. She craved him so much it was both annoying and glorious.

“They’re here!” a scout called.

Zaiana slipped into her battle calm and focus in an instant. To fight at her best she had to disregard everything around her.

She spoke loud enough for many around to hear, and the rest would carry her words back. “On this field, you do not falter. On this field, you prevail. Your heart knows what it fights for, so listen to it roar, and death will not stop you today.”

Tynan stepped up to her side. “Never thought we’d be fighting our kin.”

Zaiana raised her chin with a deep, sure breath. “I did.”

She pulled her blade free. The cry of it sang to her battle senses before it sliced, sharp and precise, through the neck of the first dark fae to descend for her. Then all she knew was her blade, her lightning, and the field that began to splatter with its first drops of red and black blood.

It was morbid for her to be enjoying herself. Killing was in her nature, and she was not ashamed of it. She darted through the relentless charge of bodies, using only her sword for now. Zaiana had missed the adrenaline that raced in her chest and released through every swing of her arms, twist of her body, and shift of her feet in a dance so exhilarating she was lost to the world beyond.

She felt unstoppable. A stroke of shadow reaping through the masses before they ever saw her coming. Her smaller size was an asset to the brutes who clumsily swung and lunged, allowing her to maneuver around them like the wind, felling them as she passed and did not falter onto the next.

Zaiana liked to count, and by the time she’d reached her twenty-sixth body and his head had rolled from his shoulders, she decided it was time to make it storm.

She’d been charging lightning through her body since she began fighting, and with a battle cry, she released it to surge through her metal-guarded fingertips, which she pressed into the ground. It roared across the ground in a line that broke the land through the enemy hoard, tripping them, seizing them with her bolts, slowing and breaking their formations.

“Impressive,” a Rhyenelle commander named Fareman said. He smiled at her, only pausing for a second before he yelled for his comrades to join him, surging forward to push into the weakened enemy.

In all her years of fighting, she’d never experienced such a thing. A moment suspended in the thick of vicious fighting to acknowledge one another. A single boost of encouragement and loyalty.

Zaiana had done enough here, and the commanders were taking over the front lines. She unglamoured her wings, taking to the skies to get a new gauge of the field.

They were winning. The dark fae numbers were dwindling, and what remained became uncertain and frantic. She didn’t welcome triumph yet. She knew firsthand how fast the odds could shift by something unexpected.

Amaya was in flight, spinning and twisting through the air while nocking her bow again and again. Zaiana had never seen another use the weapon so expertly while flying. It was admirable. She watched her with pride, and maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate time to get distracted, but Zaiana couldn’t help but to reflect on how far the darkling had come from the timid, uncertain thing she’d taken into her circle. Zaiana actually welcomed the excitement to see how far Amaya could continue to grow in confidence and skill. She could be a leader herself someday.

Tynan fought in the sky with her. His blade stopped any from getting too close to Amaya, and Zaiana actually smiled , recalling how stubborn he’d been to accept her into their group at first, yet over time, he’d protected Amaya more fiercely than even she from the bond that had grown between them.

Zaiana thought she heard water. Like waves gathering, rolling, preparing to crash against rocks. Through the dark night, the moonlight shimmered, and Zaiana realized she wasn’t mistaken—only, this was nothing of nature.

She yelled a warning below, but it was futile against the brutal wave of water that came rushing over them all. It hit mostly their side but sacrificed a few lines of the enemy.

An acute rage overcame Zaiana, who knew exactly who the conjurer of that magick-induced water attack would be. Her eyes darted through the sky then the ground, blade poised and magick humming.

But Edith already had her pinned.

An arm of water slammed into her, and Zaiana lost her flight. She tried to reorient, but she cried out when the water that drenched her turned to sharp ice, piercing her skin. Her wings were locked frozen, and she was plummeting in a fatal fall.

Kyleer caught her, but Zaiana couldn’t move. They landed away from the thick of the fighting, and Zaiana willed her lightning to the surface of her skin. It thawed the ice slowly, but Edith was already upon them. She watched with fear pounding in her chest as Edith moved fast, striking toward Kyleer, who stood in her way to Zaiana. Kyleer used his shadows to defend, creating plumes and sheets of rolling darkness that stopped the flow of Edith’s water attacks.

Zaiana wasn’t frozen stiff anymore, but she was so cold it made movement difficult still.

Until a circle of blue flame was cast around her, and Zaiana gasped, caught unawares by the new adversary. She stood, and while she firmed her guard, searching through the tall, flickering tendrils of cobalt, she was glad for the heat. Flexing her fingers and rolling her arms, the fire relaxed her body, though it trapped her in a lethal circle.

Then she saw him.

Maverick Blackfair.

He stared at her through the flames he’d ignited around her. His expression bore nothing at all. No loathing. No taunting. Though one thing was clear in their exchange: they were fighting on opposing sides in this battle.

“You’ve promised to kill me many times, Zaiana,” he called over the chaos of fighting close by and the crackling of his fire. “Maybe this time you’ll actually have the guts to follow through.”

He was goading her. Zaiana didn’t know why she was conflicted facing him now. Her focus was split between the threat of Maverick and concern for Kyleer, who was still battling Edith.

Zaiana had thought over many things since the revelation came about her father. She hadn’t cared to mention it before, convinced it didn’t matter or perhaps too afraid of how the truth could hurt her, but now she could use it as a distraction. “You’ve known who I truly am all this time,” she accused calmly.

Maverick stalked closer. His cold expression never flickered. “That you are the daughter of Mordecai Vesaria? Not all this time, but I suspected for a while.”

“When?”

She recalled the day Mordecai had visited the mountains and Maverick had goaded her into starting a fight.

I knew that if you attacked first, you would be far less likely to be given a death sentence than I.

Because he knew she was too valuable—not out of skill but a heritage she was kept in the dark from.

Her jaw tightened. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked bitterly. Why did it hurt her that he’d kept that suspicion a secret?

“Because he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve to claim any piece of you. The way he watched you every time he visited was like one would watch while sharpening their prized blade. If you knew who your father was, you might have doubted that all you became was because of yourself.”

She didn’t understand… How could he talk like he cared for her yet side against her at every turn?

“Why are you still fighting for them?” Her tone quietened as if they might share a secret. “You gave us the Aetherbonds and if they discover that betrayal they’ll kill you.”

He’d killed most of the masters yet he still fought on their side. He spoke of Mordecai like he didn’t hold esteem for him, yet he stood among his ranks.

“You have to leave,” she whispered, pleading now with how dread for him began to fester inside her the more times she saw him. But somehow she knew he wouldn’t flee until this war was over one way or another.

Maverick came to the edge of his ring of fire. The cobalt marched in his irises, bringing back the color they once were as Callen Osirion, the Prince of Dalrune.

He reached a hand through the flames toward her face. Before he could touch her, darkness pummeled into him, and the ring of fire was extinguished around her. Maverick was thrown sideward, and Kyleer was upon him again in seconds.

The two of them clashed fire and darkness, and Zaiana was about to intervene when she remembered Kyleer had taken his sights off his mark. She honed her focus on the loose threat of Edith right before a spear of ice shot for her. Zaiana leaped into the sky with her wings to avoid it, sending a powerful stroke of lightning toward Edith in the same breath. With the water gathered in her palms, Zaiana’s lightning hit Edith more powerfully with the added conduction. Her half-sister couldn’t catch herself in time before she slammed into a tree, falling to her hands and knees.

Zaiana dropped down in front of her while she panted and trembled with the aftershocks. “You cannot contend with me,” Zaiana said icily.

She used her lightning to strike Edith’s chest, forcing her into a sitting position against the tree as their eyes blazed into each other. Zaiana retrieved the blade to take back Nerida’s power.

“You’ve stolen something that doesn’t belong to you,” she said, twirling the small jeweled blade between her fingers.

“Wait,” Edith said, fear filling her eyes as she recognized her death approaching. “We’re sisters. We’re supposed to look out for each other. I have this power now and won’t pursue yours. We can make our father proud together.”

Zaiana smiled, but there was nothing kind in it. “One of the most important things I’ve learned is that blood doesn’t always make family. And you’ve stolen from someone in mine.”

Edith’s expression turned so dark Zaiana realized then her surrender was far from true. She attacked, fast and precise. Lightning crashed into water, and Edith was quick to learn to let go of the water before the lightning could conduct through to her body.

They came into close combat, clashing daggers. One to steal power; one to claim it back. The magickal blades chimed off each other, emitting a screech that made her wince, gritting her teeth with the surges of opposing energy that didn’t want to meet.

Edith’s sight cast over her head, and a water spear formed in her hand. The distraction gave Zaiana her opening, aiming the dagger for her heart.

Just as the blade plunged through her chest, an arrow sank though the center of her neck. Zaiana’s heart slammed.

“No,” she breathed, lowering Edith’s body as it fell limp in her arms. The jeweled dagger hissed, and a blue essence swirled around it, absorbing Nerida’s power, but Edith was dying quickly. “Not yet,” Zaiana growled.

The blue light began to slow with Edith’s last choked breaths. Then it stopped. Zaiana pulled the dagger free, unsure if all of Nerida’s magick had been taken back or if Edith had died too soon.

She let go of Edith’s body, taking in her wide, dark eyes held on the tree canopy. She had to pity her at least, knowing the madness of wanting to prove herself, especially to the wicked father they shared. Zaiana closed her lids and stood, feeling nothing for the half-sister she’d lost.

“Zaiana.”

The quiet call of her name made every muscle in her body stiffen. Whirling around, her eyes fell on Amaya on her knees.

Amaya’s green eyes lifted to her, and it was then she saw the spear of ice protruding from her chest with her small hand around it, drowned in silver blood.

Zaiana collapsed in front of her, assessing the wound and trying to smother her panic.

“You’re okay,” Zaiana said. Gods , how she hated the taste of lies.

The icicle was thick, so close to her heart that it might have pierced it. Amaya’s terror-filled eyes pleaded to be saved, but Zaiana didn’t have that power.

“Stay with me, Amaya. That’s an order.”

She still clutched her bow, another arrow resting to be fired. Amaya was so quick, so skilled and brilliant, and she couldn’t die like this.

“Don’t move. If it was in your heart, it would have killed you instantly. If we can get a healer here before the ice melts, you’ll be just fine.”

Zaiana started to calm, finding her focus to save Amaya’s life in time.

“Amaya.” Tynan dropped down by her, his face a picture worse than her own fear. “Shit, I got ambushed for a few minutes, and then you were gone. Why did you wander from me? That was not our deal.”

“Zaiana…was in trouble.”

It wasn’t the time for scolding as much as Zaiana wanted to rewind time to yell at the darkling not to put her life in danger to intervene.

“You need to stay with her. Keep her as still as you can, or it will kill her.” Zaiana stood.

Then everything happened too fast for her to prevent it.

Amaya surged up to one knee, her bow extended in her left arm. Before Zaiana had even blinked, the arrow that had been nocked was gone. She spun, slammed by the sight of Mordecai so close, arm raised with the dagger Edith had, an arrow tipped with Phoenix feathers was lodged in his heart.

Mordecai pulled the arrow free, tossing it aside. He appeared fine until he tried to step toward Zaiana and stumbled, falling to one knee. He still gripped the dagger.

“It was you who sought that dagger all along,” Zaiana said, piecing it together. “You’ve had a bounty out for it, believing it was in Hilia’s cave and many humans and fae have captured Waterwielders trying to reach it. If Edith had managed to take my power, you would have killed her with that dagger to have the Stormcasting ability.”

“It is mine!” he yelled, coughing at the end and spitting blood. “That power awakened in my weakest and least deserving daughter.”

“Weakest? Look behind you, Mordecai. There is no spawn of yours who can defeat me. Send as many as you like.”

A plume of shadow appeared behind him, and Zaiana faltered back a step. A firm body stopped her. Kyleer.

Dakodas emerged from her darkness, crouching by Mordecai with the first glimpse of concern Zaiana had seen her display. Then her black eyes snapped viscously to Zaiana.

“You are all going to pay for this,” she hissed.

They braced, but Dakodas didn’t attack. Instead she took Mordecai away through her Shadowporting, leaving them in a chilling, foreboding silence.

Zaiana spun back to Amaya, who wheezed in Tynan’s arms.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Zaiana snapped, but her eyes bore only concern and fear, cupping Amaya’s cheek. “We need a healer!” she yelled to Kyleer as the only person close who could help.

He nodded, taking off in search of one.

Yet Zaiana knew…listening to the fractured cadence in Amaya’s chest…she knew they were counting down too fast.

“Heartbeats are such a precious thing, aren’t they?” Amaya said. She kept her eyes on the stars that broke through the swaying trees.

“They really are,” Zaiana said, tucking her hair from her face.

She kept her voice steady despite the lump growing in her throat and the scream of grief already bottling in her chest.

“Thank you…thank you for giving me mine.”

Zaiana’s nose stung, and tears flooded her eyes. She breathed consciously, keeping her smile and bravery for Amaya. “You always had it,” Zaiana said. “Your heart showed me the goodness in our kind.”

Amaya smiled, but her face twitched with pain. “M-make it sto-storm, Zaiana.”

Her first tear spilled as Amaya’s face relaxed and the light in her eyes faded. “Always,” Zaiana whispered. She leaned in, placing a kiss on Amaya’s forehead. “In darkness and in light, you have always triumphed, Amaya Silverfair.”

When Zaiana pulled back, she was gone. Zaiana had never appreciated enough how beautiful her eyes were until right now, when she had to close them forever.

It wasn’t fair. War never was, but this…losing Amaya was so cruel and cold that despite all the vicious hands this world had dealt her, she could hardly comprehend this fate. Zaiana’s head tipped back, watching the stars glimmer while tears slipped silently down her cheeks. She held Amaya’s body, but as she searched the constellations she imagined her gentle soul as one of them, at peace in that beautiful palace, and watching over them still.

Tynan mourned. She’d never heard him cry before and it disturbed her greatly.

For his pain, for the loss of another person too good for this world, Zaiana’s grief hardened. Justice was in her hands; vengeance beat hard in her chest.

Zaiana stood. Her eyes caught on the red fletching of the arrow that had struck Mordecai with a pang in her chest.

Mordecai Vesaria would die, and there was a certain twisted poetry that he’d created the weapon that would carve out his immortal heart.

She’d shed her Silverfair name when she’d collapsed the mountain that raised her, and she would embrace her new name as Zaiana Vesaria to kill the dark fae king.