11.

  Ash

  Morning crept in on quiet feet, the kind that softened the world in a haze of half-light and lingering dreams. Muffled voices drifted through the chamber like a tide lapping against my consciousness, drawing me from slumber. I blinked slowly, adjusting in the dim glow filtering in from the coral-veined windows.

  Faelwen was curled against me, her warmth pressed into my side, her head nestled over my heart like it belonged there. And in my opinion… it did.

  I lifted my gaze. Elora and Spook stood in the far corner, their voices hushed but serious, the flicker of their eyes casting shadows on the peaceful feelings. A prickle of unease tightened my chest. No doubt Spook had shared the details of last night’s chaos. I had no time to wipe his mind clean since Faelwen interrupted too soon. Elora was sharp. Distrustful by nature. And now, likely convinced that whatever darkness clung to me had only grown deeper.

  Would they speak to the Lady of this strange, sunken city? Reveal what I’d done?

  I hadn’t meant to kill the creature. Hells, I really hadn’t.

  Faelwen stirred beside me, pulling me from the edge of that spiral. Her presence anchoring and familiar eased the storm before it could gather force.

  “Good morning, darling,” I whispered, my lips brushing her cheek. She smiled, that slow, glowing smile that melted my spine and made everything else vanish. This woman had me. Entirely. Soul, heart, and every hells forsaken part in between. I turned her face toward me and kissed her. Longing in every movement, trying to speak what words could not. She hummed against my mouth, fingers sliding with wicked softness down my ribs, teasing lower.

  Temptation swelled like a rising wave. My breath caught. Just a little further and I’d lose every shred of restraint I had left. But not now. Not while she was still healing, still vulnerable. I caught her wrist gently, pressing my forehead to hers. “Later,” I murmured, my voice low with promise. She pouted up at me, mischief glittering in her eyes like starlight on the sea.

  Before I could kiss her pout away, Elora strode over, and without warning, launched herself onto the bed. The mattress lurched. Faelwen squeaked. Artemis, who had been dozing in peaceful oblivion at the foot of the bed, growled his protest and leapt off, his tail twitching indignantly as he stretched out.

  “Sorry, Artemis,” Elora offered with a sheepish grin. I sighed and sat up, the moment shattered.

  “We should make ready to leave,” I said, reaching for my clothes and beginning to dress, my back turned to hide the irritation I couldn’t quite shake.

  “I heard you had an interesting night,” Elora said, too casually. I grunted, not gracing her with a reply. She arched a brow and turned to Faelwen with a silent demand for details.

  Faelwen merely shrugged. “Magic can backfire,” she said softly.

  “So I’ve heard,” Elora replied, the edge in her voice like frost laced with steel. Her eyes flicked back to me, cool and calculating. I ignored her. Words wouldn’t change her mind. Not now.

  I tossed Faelwen her clothes and began gathering our things, while keeping my senses alert. Spook moved in the background, quiet as ever, but his silence said more than words.

  Then the door creaked open. Tasheed entered, followed by two nymph-maids bearing trays of food. The scent of warm fruit bread, and spiced root filled the chamber.

  “I see you are making yourself ready to leave,” he observed, eyes scanning each of us in turn.

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  “We need to continue our journey to Zan’kareth,” Faelwen said, her tone respectful, but firm. My girl had strength in her that she sometimes overlooked. It brought a smile to my face.

  Tasheed’s brow furrowed hearing of the destination of our journey. “It is not my place to question the purpose of your journey,” he said slowly, “but the city you seek has been abandoned for centuries. And the journey to that place is long. No settlements lie between here and those ruins. You’ll find no places to replenish your rations.”

  We exchanged glances. Faelwen stepped forward, her voice steady.

  “It is of utmost importance that we reach Zan’kareth. If we fail, the fate of this world may well be sealed.”

  She offered no further explanation. Wise.

  Trust was earned, and we had only just met these people.

  And I know how funny that sounds since I broke Elora’s and Spook’s trust.

  Tasheed turned to the maids and gave a swift nod. “Gather supplies for their journey,” he instructed, before facing us once more. “I will ask our Lady if she can offer any assistance.”

  “Thank you, Tasheed,” Elora said politely. She was raised well by her parents. One day she would make a strong Lady herself over her kin. Tasheed lingered a moment longer, his expression clouded with something else. “Before I go,” he said, “we found one of our water-creatures dead on the terrace this morning. No wounds. No struggle. Have you seen or heard anything unusual?”

  Silence.

  My jaw locked. This was it, the moment the dagger might slide between my ribs, delivered not by blade, but by betrayal. Elora could expose me with a word. Spook too. Their silence pressed in like a held breath. But it was Faelwen who spoke. “We heard nothing,” she said gently. “We were exhausted and slept deeply. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Tasheed tilted his head, as if weighing her words. “It’s alright. Creatures die due to sickness, misstep or fate. Thank you for your honesty.” He gave a shallow bow. “I’ll return shortly.”

  The door shut behind him with a soft click. And then Elora turned. Her gaze locked on mine, burning.

  “If Faelwen sees light in that withered heart of yours, I’ll trust her judgement. But mark my words… if you ever turn your dark magic on me or Spook, I will not give another warning.”

  I met her eyes, said nothing, but gave a short nod. She stalked away.

  And only then did I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

  ? ? ?

  Not long after, we were soaring through the sky on the backs of phoenixes, their vast wings cleaving the clouds with every thunderous beat. We never laid eyes on the Lady. Tasheed had returned alone again, breathless and wide-eyed, saying she had whispered something to the wind and the phoenixes had answered. Two of them had come, wreathed in firelight and grace, descending like living stars from the heavens. And now they carried us toward the fabled city of Zan’kareth.

  The larger of the two bore me, Faelwen and Artemis. I sat nestled between them, my arm wrapped around Artemis’ to keep him steady. His fur was soft and warm beneath my fingers, but his body trembled. I could hear the soft whimpers in his throat, feel the rapid flutter of his heartbeat against my forearm. My other hand clung tight to the saddle’s pommel. An ornate thing of worn leather and sun-warmed brass, etched with magical symbols to prevent the leather from burning.

  Behind me, Faelwen pressed close, her arms snug around my waist, steadying both of us with a quiet strength. The wind tugged at our cloaks and hair, but I barely noticed. Beside us, Spook flew on the second phoenix, Elora riding behind him, her wild golden, blond hair tight up in a messy bun.

  If someone had told me a year ago that I’d one day fly across the skies on the back of a phoenix, I would’ve laughed. But here we were, gliding above an endless ocean of clouds, the mountains falling away behind us like old memories. I used to dream about creatures like this when I was little. Tales told by my mother of elves on phoenixes who fought in battles long ago.

  Maeve, my little sister, had always loved those stories. She would beg me to tell them again and again when our mother got sick. I could still hear her voice, like it was yesterday, as she asked if we’d ever see one ourselves. Today would’ve been her twenty-seventh birthday. Instead, she will forever remain twelve in my memory. Fifteen years. Fifteen year ago I lost her and my mother. The ache rose sharp and sudden, like a blade twisting beneath my ribs.

  My throat tightened. I clenched my jaw to keep it from shaking, but it was no use. Grief has no manners, no timeline. It arrives when it pleases, raw and familiar. I thought of my mother, gone with Maeve when the sickness took their life. I thought of my father and younger brother, whose faces I hadn’t seen in years. Were they still alive?

  The grief didn’t consume me like it once did. But it was still there, a low burn just beneath the skin. I let it rise. Let it settle. I didn’t try to chase it away. I’d learned the hard way that bottling it up only made it worse. Sometimes, all you could do was breathe through it and let it be.

  So I did.

  Two days. That’s all it would take to reach Zan’kareth. Just two more days of flight beneath the open sky. And hopefully by then these feelings will have disappeared again.