Page 62

FIFTY

A s if colliding with an invisible wall, the phoenixes froze, mere paces from Rahn. Their heat should have caused her to shrink back, but she stood still, a fragile statue beneath six blazing gods.

The phoenixes twitched, hovering in mid-air momentarily before their wings relaxed and they lowered to the rough floor.

The birds let out confused grumbles. Kel spotted Savita at the center of the small horde, onyx eyes bloodthirsty, ready to win this race.

Whether it was because of Cristo’s new collar or her nearing rebirth, Sav blazed wilder than Kel had ever seen.

Slowly, Rahn turned to face the tinted window. The phoenixes’ screams calmed, and their heat cooled to blurred feathers. Only Rahn’s voice echoed around the hall, commanding the silence. “Estra wouldn’t want this. It’s too late , Canen.”

Understanding finally rushed through Kel, and she almost sagged to the broken floor. Whatever she and the others thought of Cristo, it was clear that Rahn believed he’d never hurt her. And she was right; he’d paused the entire race to save her life.

A sharp, static noise blared through the hall. Through a speaker that Kel couldn’t see, a low voice commanded, “Move, Rahn.”

“No,” Rahn shouted. “So, either let them kill me, or give up.”

Kel moved across the floor, the other Howlers at her side.

The phoenixes tried to snap and claw at them, though their collars seemed to hold them taut.

Even Savita, with anxious, confused flames shrouding her, watched them hungrily.

Kel couldn’t see the invisible, electric restraints curbing their movements, but she could almost hear them.

It was a steady murmur in the air, like insect wings or a distant crowd.

“Estra means something to all of us,” Bekn called, stepping forward. “But this isn’t the way to save her.”

The speaker crackled before Cristo replied, “ Move. ”

The phoenixes fought harder against their collars. Flames thrashed about and Lynx lashed out at the smaller phoenix to his left. Cristo allowed them to fan out across the painted track line, just enough for Savita to spread her wings without colliding into other feathers.

Kel moved without thinking. Though her legs felt heavy, she sprinted toward Sav, weaving between open beaks and wincing at the overbearing heat. She heard someone shout at her back, but she couldn’t make out the words through the growing, crackling flames.

Pressed between writhing flames and nipping beaks, Kel stopped, ignoring the heat biting her skin. A sob slipped from her throat.

Savita.

She could still hear Rahn and Cristo arguing, both voices growing frenzied, but she ignored them.

Savita’s head craned toward Kel. The phoenix’s neck was circled by a darker, thicker collar than usual.

The flames around Savita’s head had pulled back, ever so slightly, though heat still bit into the air, hotter than Kel had ever felt.

Kel didn’t care if she turned to ash. With no leathers, for the first time, Kel reached a hand forward.

As she neared Savita, the heat turned to pain. Searing needles stabbed into her palm, as if peeling back her skin and branding her bones. Grinding her teeth, she pressed forward another step.

Then, the pain shifted to a sharp numbness, the kind of scalding heat that felt like ice.

Kel bit down on a whimper. She leaned forward as the heat turned to something more tangible, pressing back against her hand as firmly as any brick wall.

She kept moving forward toward Savita. Black stars danced across the room.

Just as the heat turned unbearable, just as she thought it might consume her, Savita closed the remaining distance between them.

Tears carved trails down Kel’s cheeks. Her fingers pressed against the yellow feathers above Sav’s beak.

They felt exactly as she thought they would—like velvet sunlight.

The heat remained, but the pain ebbed, a shadow beneath the sun.

Kel’s skin reddened, but it didn’t burn away.

She wondered if the diseased fire in her veins now matched Savita’s.

“I said I’d get you out,” Kel murmured to her firebird. “I keep my promises.”

Savita blinked and pushed against Kel’s hand. The heat soothed her like a balm.

She didn’t know why Sav had let her fall. She didn’t know what she meant to the phoenix. But she knew Savita deserved better than Cristo—or even Kel—deciding her fate.

This close, Kel could make out more of Sav’s shape. Ash-black feathers were scattered beneath outstretched wings. The feathers along her wings’ edges were darker, too, as if dipped in ink.

She hadn’t seen her phoenix since her fall in Vohre Forest. Since Sav had let her fall. But Savita’s heat consumed the pain of the memory. As Kel touched Savita’s feathers for the first time, she felt invincible. Just for a moment, she felt as immortal as Savita herself.

She took a closer look at Sav’s new collar. Though sturdier-looking than her old collar, the edges were soft, uneven. She stared, just for a moment, unsure what she was seeing—until she spotted two red wires poking out of the top of the collar, frayed and melting.

Her breath hitched. Blue sparks flared beneath the collar, almost hidden by Savita’s own fire. Her phoenix was so close to a rebirth—Sav’s very heat had begun to melt Cristo’s controls.

Was this normal? Or was it because Cristo’s new collar hadn’t been tested? Kel didn’t know—she’d thought she’d have more time to research rebirths. But the dark veins along Sav’s wings were spreading before Kel’s eyes. Savita barely had minutes before she’d combust.

Coup appeared at Kel’s right, and Savita swiveled toward him. He raised a gloved hand, as if to touch her, though kept a few steps away.

“How are you so close to her?” Coup asked Kel. “I’ve never felt this kind of heat.”

“I don’t know,” Kel whispered.

She glanced over at the others. Rahn was still shouting, trying to reason with the tinted mirror.

Cristo spoke back, though Kel couldn’t make out his words as Savita grumbled above her head.

The other phoenixes were growing more agitated, wings spreading and necks craning. As if preparing to take flight again.

Kel whipped around. Rahn was still firmly planted at the center of the diamond track. If Cristo resumed the race—if Estra’s life was worth more to him than Rahn’s—none of them would survive much longer.

Kel tried to lure Sav off the painted track.

“Come on,” Kel pleaded when Sav resisted. “For Alchemists’ sake. It’s not a real race. We need to get you out of here.”

“We can’t take her through the door,” Coup whispered in Kel’s ear, daring a step closer, as if Cristo might hear them breathe. “The sancters will take her out in a heartbeat.”

Sweat dripped down Kel’s arms. “We need to do something ,” she hissed. “Look at the other phoenixes—they’re preparing to get airborne.”

Coup glanced over at the other phoenixes. Some were bending their legs, others ruffling their wings. Ready to begin racing anew.

There were no other doors, no other windows. But they hadn’t come this far just to let the flames devour them.

Kel managed to encourage Sav a few steps from the other phoenixes as she heard Cristo bellow, “Enough, Rahn! I won’t kill my own daughter.”

Hairs pricked along Kel’s neck. Cristo’s voice rose with clear, rabid desperation.

She saw Dira and Bekn exchange looks, Rahn firmly planted between them. Unmoving.

They couldn’t wait in here forever. Even if the race was stopped, Savita would rebirth, soon. Kel could feel it in the heat rolling off Savita in erratic waves, like tiny fireworks seeping into the air. Cristo had already half-succeeded.

She and Coup tried to lure Sav further from the other phoenixes with little success. Bekn and Dira shifted toward them, as if to help, and Cristo’s voice rang out again through the overhead speakers.

“ Move , or I’ll make you,” he roared.

Rahn remained motionless.

Kel’s knees wobbled. The phoenixes behind Sav grew more agitated, gaining more momentum. A larger phoenix lashed out at the smaller spinel phoenix to its left. Its beak came away dripping with crimson.

“Rahn!” Kel called, her throat cracking.

Rahn either didn’t hear or didn’t acknowledge Kel. Kel didn’t know what she would have said, anyway. Rahn was the only thing keeping Cristo from restarting the race. But the fear making Cristo’s words sharp and clipped hitched Kel’s breath.

From her position, Rahn couldn’t see the phoenixes beginning to stir.

Blue sparks leaped from Sav’s collar. The phoenix’s head jerked up. Sav shook her head, as if fighting some invisible force.

“I’m sorry, Rahn,” Cristo cried.

Dira turned back to Rahn, arm outstretched, gaze darting between Sav and the technician. “Rahn, I think you should—”

A symphony of unholy, agonized shrieks filled the air.

Five phoenixes—all but Savita—were yanked off the ground, wings thrust up in stiff, controlled movements. They catapulted forward, down the hall, along the track.

Toward Rahn.

Dira screamed and lunged for the technician. Rahn lurched to the right, toward Dira. But neither was fast enough.

A hurricane of claws and stiff wings collided with Rahn; the phoenix furthest to the right caught her with a sharp slice.

The familiar, acrid smell of burned flesh filled the hall.

The world began spinning too fast. Rahn fell to the ground as the five phoenixes shot past. Her skin bubbled and bled as Dira bolted to her side.

Savita screamed and more sparks flew from her collar, melting and charring around her neck.

Kel’s phoenix thrashed her head, fighting Cristo’s burned circuitry.