Page 84 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

Faythe

F aythe was horror-stricken to fly over High Farrow. The enemy had infiltrated right through the outer town, and the screams of the people rang through her senses. Smoke billowed from buildings she’d passed countless times in her youth. Her neighbors fought for their homes and their lives. The only hope to shine through her despair was to notice that High Farrow and Rhyenelle forces were holding strong against the enemy as they tore through the streets. The wall around Caius City hadn’t been breached.

They fought several dark fae in the skies to get to the hills of Farrowhold. Landing, war pounded in her chest with a strong urge to join the fighting in the town.

“They’ve advanced far quicker than we anticipated,” Faythe said.

Reylan replied, “The enemy is always uncertain. We can’t be sure what went wrong or what intel might have been miscalculated, but what I’m confident of is that our generals know how to adapt. They’re leading strong, though it may not look like it.”

Faythe nodded, trusting his judgment. She had no choice but to turn away from the cries of battle tearing through her childhood home and face the Eternal Woods. It would all be for nothing if Marvellas succeeded.

They raced through the woodland, passing the waterfall clearing and heading straight to the temple. Breaking past the tree line, Faythe stumbled to a halt.

Jakon stood by Marlowe’s headstone, his stance squared and a dagger aimed to protect it with his life.

Because Marvellas was here, standing off with him. A human against a Spirit with immense power even with one Aetherbond. Yet Jakon stood bravely, without a single tremble to his firm stance, and with the determination and rage of an army in his stare.

“If you hurt him…” Faythe had to pause with the dizzying adrenaline and rush of rage that pulsed through her to protect Jakon. “I won’t kill you. No. That would be too merciful. I’ll bind you in this second Aetherbond and keep you alive for worse torture than your first lover put you through.”

Marvellas’s golden eyes flashed with that. It was a deplorable thing to use, but Faythe had no kindness left.

“You will all die at the end of this. Who goes a little earlier depends on who is standing in my way.”

Her attention slipped back to Jakon defending Marlowe’s headstone. Marvellas must need to get to it to drag Marlowe’s soul out of the very core of these woods and destroy it.

Faythe would not let that happen.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nyte in the tree line. Her heart thundered. He was here with the Ruin Dagger. These next moments would decide the fate of the world.

She exchanged a subtle look of acknowledgment with Nyte, then Faythe struck out at Marvellas with her power in a gold flare.

Marvellas deflected easily, but all Faythe needed was her attention. They erupted into a power battle that clashed gold with gold, shaking the peace and beauty of this sacred woodland.

Faythe felt the humming amplifier of the Ruin Dagger nearby, and she opened herself to it, expanding her magick to contend with the Spirit. Marvellas’s magick even in half pushed Faythe to her limits fast. She faltered for a second, and it was enough for Marvellas to land a blow to her shoulder. Faythe cried out, falling to one knee.

Reylan took over, using the power of the ruin too. Through their bond they shared magick, but his well wasn’t as deep as Faythe’s, limiting him.

Marvellas landed a flare of her magick to project him back too, with more force, slamming him into a tree.

Faythe was aware of Nyte in the shadows. She hoped he remained hidden, only watching, to wait for the right opening. They might only get one chance. Once Marvellas knew the dagger was here, it would be harder to strike.

She remained down, though Faythe fought the urge to lunge up and fight again. Faythe let the Spirit think she was weakened; let Marvellas approach in predatory strides.

When she was close enough, Faythe pulled her blade free, launching up with a quick vertical slice that met the resistance of clothing and flesh.

Marvellas stumbled back, bleeding in a long line from her navel and over her jaw and cheek. While she’d been down and Reylan had attacked, Faythe had been absorbing more of the ruin’s power into her body. It raged through her like a storm, and in the casting-out of her palm, the full charge shot toward Marvellas.

The Spirit was blasted back with such force no mortal would have survived it. It threw her into the caved-open Temple of Aurialis, burying her in the stones as she slammed against the back wall.

Faythe pulled out the other Aetherbond, sprinting to take her chance while the Spirit had to at least be disorientated for a moment. She scrambled over loose stone, her heart thrumming in her ears. Almost there. Marvellas was already coming around, pushing rocks off herself.

Marvellas freed herself from the rubble enough that when Faythe reached with the Aetherbond, the Spirit grabbed her wrist, throwing her off-balance. They fought in a clumsy struggle. Rocks dug into Faythe’s spine as Marvellas managed to crawl out, hovering over Faythe. Her nails slashed across Faythe’s face deep enough to bleed, but Faythe didn’t stop fighting with everything she had.

A blast of power knocked into Marvellas, throwing her off Faythe. It was Reylan. Faythe hooked her leg, positioning over Marvellas, and then…

The click of the Aetherbond locking over the Marvellas’s wrist sang to her with victory through the pounding in her ears.

Marvellas cried loudly as the Aetherbond silenced the rest of her magick. Reylan hooked an arm around Faythe’s middle, effortlessly lifting her off the Spirit and gaining them distance away.

“Now, Nyte!” Faythe yelled.

When he didn’t answer or appear, Faythe whipped her head to where she’d last seen him by the trees. He’d come out of hiding but was standing halfway across the clearing as if an invisible force had stopped his advance.

A daunting dread crept over her as she took in his stunned expression. Faythe walked toward him, scanning every inch of him, but he appeared unharmed.

“Nyte?” she questioned. Something wasn’t right.

He drew a shallow gasp, falling to his knees, and Faythe ran to him.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, scanning him again.

“I think…I think I’m going back,” he said.

Faythe’s panic rose. “No. You can’t—not yet.”

When his eyes lifted to hers, they were almost gold. His true color infused his irises more, and she clutched his arms desperately, as if it would tether him to the body of Capitan Daegal just a little while longer.

“We need you. Marvellas is right there.” Faythe lifted his hand, gripping the dagger, pressing it to his chest with a plea in her eyes.

“I’m sorry… It was a privilege to know you. Family. I’ll treasure that even across realms, Faythe Ashfyre.”

Her eyes welled. “Family,” she whispered.

Nyte almost smiled, but his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he threw it back. Only for a few seconds, before the body of Captain Daegal slumped.

Nyte was gone.

Faythe’s head bowed, and despite their hope disappearing with him, Faythe hoped he’d made it back to the realm he chose. That the family he’d found there had figured out how to bring him home, and he was safe.

The return of Nyte was a moment of joy in one realm, and a dire consequence in another.

Faythe’s eyes fell on the Ruin Dagger. All wasn’t lost, and she supposed it was fate to end up here again as the one holding it. As the one who had to end Marvellas’s terror once and for all.

“Rainyte…”

Marvellas’s heartbroken whisper pushed Faythe to her feet. The Spirit looked down at the body of Daegal with grief falling on her features. Faythe’s fist tightened, and she ran the short distance toward the Spirit.

“NO!” Reylan yelled, lunging after her, but she was too fast, and his fingers barely grazed her arm.

Faythe’s arm rose, ready to bring down the dagger to strike true in Marvellas’s heart.

The Spirit’s hand lashed around Faythe’s throat in a choking grip, but that wasn’t what stopped Faythe’s blade. It was the invasion that pierced into her mind so quick and precise she didn’t have a second to reform her mental barriers.

Faythe clawed at Marvellas’s hand, her wrist, realizing with absolute horror…the Aetherbonds had released.

Marvellas’s eyes swirled like the surface of the sun, so ablaze with rage and grief that this was the most frightening depiction she’d seen. The air stirred around them, growing more violent with a charge of powerful energy.

Faythe understood then, even after all this time, Nyte was the one thing most precious to her. And she’d lost him again, releasing her from the Aetherbonds.

“I won’t let you get in my way a moment longer,” Marvellas said. A chilling, deep voice echoed over hers, making her all the more terrifying. A true Goddess in mortal form.

Marvellas’s eyes cast to the side briefly before her hand followed. Faythe yelled and cried, watching a devastating blow of power slam into Reylan, who charged, sword raised, to try to save her.

Oh Gods.

Faythe tried to use her own magick, but Marvellas had a hold of her mind, preventing her from reaching it.

Marvellas’s ethereal eyes met hers again, softening just a fraction as she said, voice quiet with sorrow, “Goodbye, Faythe.”

Faythe’s eyes rolled back at the crushing grip on her throat. She watched the eternal day and thought of all of her friends. Thought of Reylan. She didn’t want to leave them…but she’d failed.

In her final moments, it was Marlowe’s sweet voice that trickled through her mind, and tears spilled over her face.

“It’s not your time yet, Phoenix Queen.”

The title changed to a perfect imitation of Marlowe’s playful tone. Faythe’s whimper turned to another choke. She was going to die in a few more seconds.

At least I’ll be with you , Faythe thought in solace as she pictured her beautiful, brilliant lost friend. Marlowe had left behind so much in her wake to aid them in this fight, and it was a tragedy she wouldn’t get to receive the credit for all she’d done.

Air rushed down Faythe’s throat suddenly, and she was so eager for breath that she couldn’t catch herself when her body crumpled to the ground. Her vision came and went with specks of darkness, but she grappled her threads of consciousness, forcing herself to hold on.

Faythe looked up, finding Marvellas unmoving, her hand still raised as if she held the ghost of Faythe still.

The Spirit didn’t scream or move. Then, slowly, particles blew from her hand into the gentle wind. Marvellas’s skin was disintegrating .

Faythe sat back on her knees, watching in utter disbelief as the Spirit of Souls, Goddess of the Stars, turned into stardust. Marvellas looked down as her face half dissolved, and only one golden eye spoke her fear. Even the wicked feared death. Even a God.

“The light cancels out the dark,” Marvellas said—final words that stroked Faythe with a shudder.

She watched the Spirit fade away with relief building in her chest. But what was revealed behind Marvellas…

Horror pierced her being deeper than she’d ever experienced before.

“JAK!” she screamed.

Jakon stared at her, wide-eyed and ghostly, gripping the Ruin Dagger that fell from his grip as his hand turned to dust as well.

“Forgive me,” he said, fear lacing his distant voice. “I had to…to be with Marlowe again. But I’m always with you, Faythe…always.”

He fell to his knees, and Faythe scrambled, reaching for him, but her hand passed through the dust his body became. She fell, palms splayed, to the ground instead. He’d been here…right here just a second ago, and now…

He was gone.

No final seconds to hold him. No body to bury.

Jakon Kilnight had sacrificed himself to save her and the world.

The scream that tore through Faythe Ashfyre could shatter stars and erupt the sun. Her grief was made of the sharpest blade, and when it cut right through her, it fractured the land too.

The ground quaked, but she couldn’t stop screaming. Couldn’t stop the rage that barreled out of her and attacked the world beyond this woodland. Her body curled into itself, in so much pain she didn’t know how to come out of this pit of absolute despair.

She did know how to make the world feel her pain, and so the Phoenix Queen would rage.