The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One) Read online

  Fia tried to disguise the smile she felt tugging at the corners of her mouth, as she feigned still drawing an arrow. He’s smiling back at you.

  Alexander nocked an arrow ready for her. “You’ll need to use your strongest arm to draw the bow. Normally, we’d wear a guard to protect our bow arm from the string, but this should be sufficient,” he said, tugging gently at the sleeve of her hoodie.

  She nodded and held the curved part of the bow in her left hand, arm outstretched, as she’d seen Alexander do before.

  “Now, stand straight, with your feet shoulder-width apart.” He stood in front of her as he spoke, correcting her when needed. “When you draw back on the bow, you will find a point that is comfortable to hold whilst you take aim, for most it is the corner of the mouth or just below the chin.”

  Fia held her breath. Don’t let him see how much your arm is hurting. She drew back on the bow, pulling her right arm up, so her hand was just level with the corner of her mouth. It was surprisingly tough to pull back with the arrow in place. She used her core to steady herself as much as she could. Alexander walked behind her, repositioning her elbow with one hand and pushing down on her shoulder with the other. Fia trembled, but not from the weight of the bow. He was so close, the scent of jasmine and cinnamon drifted from his hair, just like the forest.

  “Steady,” Alexander said, his voice quiet. “Over there, that tree stump.”

  Fia drew in a breath and held it as she took aim. Alexander stepped away from her and her concentration returned. She focused on the upturned tree stump, aiming the tip of the arrow at the centre, and released the string. The arrow shot across to the right of the tree stump and fell with a rattling thump to the floor. Fia exhaled.

  “Not bad.” Alexander stood in front of her again. “You were putting force on the hand that was holding the bow, rather than using all your strength to draw back, and that sent the arrow to the right of the target instead of straight.”

  He held the hand Fia gripped around the bow as he spoke, repositioning her so that she was just resting the bow below the soft part at the base of her thumb. His skin was warm, and Fia held her breath as she steadied herself, gazing up at him. He was still talking, explaining why it was important to hold the bow correctly, to position her feet, looking at her hand. You have so much sadness in your eyes. She studied his face. The traces of a frown were still slightly visible. He stopped talking, meeting her eyes. Fia’s head swam. She was aching to touch him, to reach out and thread her fingers through his hair. Neither of them moved for what felt like an eternity.

  “Sire?”

  Alexander took a step back at Malachai’s voice, taking the bow from Fia’s hands.

  “We’ve received word from the others,” Malachai said.

  Fia returned to her position on the soft, springy moss. She didn’t want to hear what Malachai had to say, not tonight. Her head was still spinning from the moments before, her chest warm and heart throbbing. What just happened? She watched how intently Alexander listened to Malachai, and how Malachai responded with respect. Alexander’s expressions were hard to read, but he spoke to Malachai with great kindness. Even though Malachai called him Sire, they shared an easiness with each other, as if they were brothers.

  A quiet whistle escaped her lips as she lay down on her mossy bed. She wanted to talk to Alexander more, to ask questions like how he’d known her name when she fell through the window, and whether he really had helped Sophie. If she wasn’t here by chance, and the witches had been looking for her, he must know why. But more than any of that, she wanted to tug at the brown curls flicking around his ears, and to run her hands along his arms and his chest.

  You’re stuck in another world with no answers and your mind is drifting there. Great stuff, Fia. She clicked her tongue. Her questions would have to wait. She felt the warm, haziness of sleep begin to wash over her and was soon dreaming of Sophie.

  …

  By morning, Fia found herself alone in the cave. “Hello?” she called out. A familiar sense of dread began to creep into her chest.

  A shaft of light shone through the opening high above. Alexander and Malachai were nowhere to be seen, but she knew they wouldn’t have gone far. Fia ate the berries they’d left her and washed her face in the cold, fresh water. She could hear muffled voices, lots of them. She looked towards the narrow passageway leading to the entrance of the cave, and then back over her shoulder to the edges of the grotto, across the stream. She was still alone. There was a small opening in the cave wall, and the voices were coming from within it. With another quick glance towards the entrance, she leapt over the little stream towards the opening.

  It was very narrow. In places, she had to turn sideways to fit through, and the rock was cold and damp against her skin. A cool breeze touched her cheeks as she turned the next bend in the rock. The voices grew louder. She stopped at a precipice. A great expanse stretched out beyond her into the darkness. Enormous stalactites hung from the ceiling of the cave, droplets falling from them into the nothingness below.

  The chill breeze became a gust of wind, and all the hairs on her arms stood up. Her foot hit a small rock, sending it tumbling and cracking onto more rocks as it finally fell, with a large splash into the water somewhere below. The sound echoed off the walls and rumbled deeply as hundreds of bats flew out from their resting place. A stalactite cracked above her and within moments, there were great white wings encompassing her and strong arms tugging her back into the passageway.

  Alexander kept his wings firmly around Fia as rocks smashed onto the cliff face. They stood motionless as they heard others fall into the water far below. Fia closed her eyes. She’d almost filled the passageway when she’d come through, and now that they were here together, she was pushed up against the rocky wall, Alexander’s wings cushioning her from the cold surface. Her head pressed against his chest, and she could hear his heart beating fast, matching the sound of her own in her ears.

  He took her face gently in his hands, tilting her head with care, so he could look down at her, blue eyes examining her. They were curious and bright, flecked with silver and aqua. “Are you hurt?” he whispered.

  She shook her head, staring at her reflection in his eyes. The air in the passageway buzzed with a familiar charge like static built up between them, waiting to be released.

  “You need to stop doing that,” he said softly, without taking his eyes away from hers.

  “Doing what?” she breathed. Her gaze fell from his eyes to his lips, and Alexander’s thumb traced her cheek.

  “Almost getting yourself killed.”

  Fia closed her eyes as she held her breath again, swaying slightly. When she opened them, he dropped his hands from her face, and taking her hand in his, he led her back through the passageway to the grotto.

  Malachai ran towards them, his bow drawn. “Sire, what was that?” he asked, lowering his bow when nothing followed them from the passageway.

  “The cave has become unstable. We need to leave,” Alexander replied, holding onto Fia’s hand until they were safely outside.

  “How far is it to the city?” Fia asked shyly, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

  “Less than a day’s walk. We will be there by nightfall if we hurry,” replied Malachai.

  When they stopped later to rest, the sun sat high in the sky. Fia pulled her tattered hoodie tightly around herself. It was colder today, despite the sun. She’d been replaying over and over in her mind what had happened that morning. His wings had cradled her to him, and she could feel the strength of his arms and his shoulders, as he’d sheltered her from the falling rocks. She bit her lip, wondering what his mouth would feel like pressed against hers. Her cheeks burned at the thought. Alexander hasn’t told you why you’re here, and this is all you’re thinking about? She cleared her throat. What are you afraid of? Just ask him again.

  Alexander had gone back to how he’d been before, avoiding eye contact and only looking at her with that sullen expres
sion, his brow furrowed into a deep line.

  As they continued, the scenery changed around them. The dense forest began to drop away, and they’d been gradually ascending a gentle slope. Here and there the trees were burnt, looming structures, blackened and charred from fire. Was there anywhere the Makya hadn’t been?

  Eventually, the forest fell away behind them, and they emerged onto a moor, with only dull, dead grass and rock, blending into a grey sky, heavy with clouds stretching out for miles ahead.

  “How much further?” Fia shouted over the wind.

  “A few hours on foot,” Malachai said. “Sire, I’d like to fly on ahead and check the area is secure. We should be there earlier than expected.”

  Alexander conceded. With a few steps, as if beginning to run, Malachai was away, beating the air downwards with his wings as he made his ascent.

  Fia tried to keep her eyes on his tiny outline as it disappeared into the distance, but the wind whipped at her face, and she had to look down to shield them from the debris. She put her arms around herself. The cold seeped into her bones.

  Alexander lifted his great wings out around him, and she sheltered under one of them as they walked. He moved her closer, cradling her from the wind, but not so close that they were touching. She drank in the feeling of being near him. One ripped guy, and you’ve lost all common sense? Nice job, Fia. Now’s your chance, just ask him why you’re here.

  The sun had been dropping, making its way down beyond the horizon. The ground had levelled out some time ago, and now in the distance, they could see the landscape stretching out far below them.

  “Alexander, I wanted to ask you about…well, a lot of things actually, about Soph—” Before she could finish Sophie’s name, Malachai flew up from the expanse and called out to them.

  “Sire, we’re too late.” His voice broke. “Turaunt has been razed.”

  “Survivors?” Alexander asked.

  “It doesn’t look good,” Malachai replied, gazing solemnly at the smoke in the distance.

  “They destroyed an entire city?” Fia asked.

  She ran as fast as her tired feet could carry her towards the horizon line stretching out ahead of them. She reached a cliff’s edge and skidded to a stop. Far below them was the charred, blackened remains of a large city. Alexander landed softly beside her, and they looked on in silence as plumes of black smoke billowed from the remains of buildings high into the sky around them.

  Chapter Ten

  Noor

  The Lady Noor braced herself as cold water rushed over her head.

  “Wake up, witch,” said a dry, raspy voice.

  Noor blinked away dirty water from her swollen eyes. Long clumps of hair that had worked their way loose from her plait clung to her wet skin. Her captors had kept her unconscious for a while to prevent her from casting any illusions. Each time the Makya would wake her abruptly and then knock her out cold again once they’d heard enough. She hadn’t told them what they wanted to hear, instead giving them rambling, nonsensical pieces of information. Unfortunately for Noor, it took quite a lengthy attack to make her lose consciousness, and she suffered for it. But she had endured worse and knew she had to be patient if there was a chance of escaping.

  Fighting the searing pain in her body, she glanced up at the Makya standing before her. The woman was tall, but not as tall as Noor, and even as she blazed, Noor could make out the details of her long, red coat. It was made of animal hide, one all Makya soldiers wore—resistant to fire with large, brass buckles at the cuffs of each sleeve and around the high collar that stood upright at the neck. As the Makya calmed, the intensity of her flame lessened, and her outline became more distinct. Large leather boots reached above her knees, and her coat swayed open to expose a skin-tight jumpsuit beneath as she paced. Her anger diminished, revealing ruby-red hair flowing down her back, narrow lips pressed firmly into a tight red line, and eyes the colour of embers.

  “Lorn.” Noor licked away the muddy water dripping from her brow onto her lips. “To what do I owe the honour?”

  “The Lady Noor,” Lorn replied, pacing slowly in front of Noor, who was chained from both wrists to the wall of her cell. Lorn kicked a leather boot into her stomach. “If only your people could see you now,” she said, with another short, sharp blow to the ribs.

  Noor’s circlet fell to the floor, with the tinny reverberation of metal on metal, and it took every last inch of her resolve not to let the pain flicker across her face.

  “They are not my people,” Noor spluttered, falling forwards against her shackles. She had to concentrate, to keep her focus. “Every witch stands alone.”

  Lorn laughed. “Yet you still pledge allegiance to your covens. You are strange things, indeed.”

  “As you pledge allegiance to your Council,” Noor muttered, her vision blurring. So long as Fia found her way back to the angels, she wouldn’t have failed her fellow witches.

  “Except I’d dare say I don’t need the Council, for anything, whereas it looks as if you’re in a bit of a bind right now without the help of your coven to back you. But nevertheless, I’m feeling rather generous today, as your people have been very…resourceful of late.”

  Noor remained silent. It was common knowledge that many witches no longer followed tradition and felt the coming of the third sun was the time to take their rightful place in Ohinyan. Erebus’s whispers reached far and wide, and the Makya were not the only ones who sought to capitalise on the dying sun.

  “Tell me how to find the angel’s homeland. Where is Alythia?” Lorn’s eyes blazed bright amber as her anger flourished. She kicked Noor again, hard in the gut, until Noor groaned and coughed up blood.

  Noor was biding her time, watching Lorn’s feet as she paced, backwards and forwards.

  “I know nothing of the angels,” Noor finally said, even though she’d been through this several times already with Lorn’s brother, Jerum. She wouldn’t let them wear her down, even if it meant dying alone in her little cell.

  Lorn stopped in front of Noor, kneeling to look her in the eyes. “I hear Alexander rescued your little travelling companion,” she whispered. “With the events taking place in Ohinyan at present, I didn’t think the angels would trouble themselves with such menial tasks.”

  Jealousy burned in Lorn’s eyes. It was unmistakeable. Noor had seen enough jealous women in her time to recognise it. She considered her response. Lorn and Alexander had history, so she chose her words with care. “He worries for her wellbeing.”

  Lorn radiated to her brightest, fullest extent, her anger emblazoned across her whole being. It took all of Noor’s remaining strength to conjure an illusion, one that would render Lorn blind momentarily. But she wasn’t fast enough. Lorn lunged forwards, placing a searing hand on Noor’s.

  Okay, new plan. Noor caught the eye of a little Aurelli who had accompanied Lorn. Now!

  She blinked, adjusting herself to her new, temporary eyes and looked back at her body in the cell, deep in a trance, or to anyone else, unconscious. Her hand had already begun to blister from Lorn’s touch.

  “You, with me,” Lorn commanded in her direction, oblivious to the switch. Noor quietly stretched into the sensations of the little Aurelli body she had borrowed and followed Lorn down the corridor. It was a risk to leave her body unattended, but she couldn’t miss the opportunity to spy on Lorn.

  Two small fangs pressed against her lips, and she ran her tongue along them. Body swapping was quite forbidden amongst her coven, but sometimes exceptions had to be made. Her body would be safe enough in the cell, and once she’d walked back to it, the little Aurelli she’d borrowed would be fine, too.

  They passed through the airship’s long metal corridors before stopping at a door, identical to all the others before it. With a deep breath, Lorn stood tall and walked through the doorway, reigning in the flames flickering about her.

  Keep your distance.

  The antechamber they entered had no distinguishable features, only the large metal ri
vets that held the wall panels together and reflected Lorn’s auburn glow. She paced up and down for a few moments, listening, but for what? Noor heard nothing. Lorn seemed satisfied that the chamber up ahead was empty and pushed her way through the great doors.

  This room was very different to the previous one. Torches lined the perimeter, casting flickering shadows on silk banners depicting the Makya emblem, the head of a phoenix in a circle of flames. In the centre of the room sat a large copper urn, filled with a fire of blues and greens. Lorn stood at the edge, gazing into the flames.

  Noor remained at the doorway, assuming her position as guard, and watched.

  As Lorn stared into the fire, a vision of Fia and Alexander appeared. Their bodies were entwined and writhing on the floor together. Lorn shrieked. The lovers glared back at her. Noor could see the expression on Alexander’s face, his head thrown back in pleasure and delight.

  “Who is she?” Lorn snarled into the flames, digging her nails into the edges of the urn, denting the metal and charring the surface where her fingers touched.

  “Only the great Fire Mother is worthy of the descendant of Gabriel,” whispered the flames in reply.

  Lorn leapt back, looking around the room for an intruder.

  Erebus. So this is his doing, after all.

  Voices approached the chamber, and Lorn stepped away from the urn, seating herself in a throne at the far end of the room. Two Makya entered.

  As twins, they could easily be mistaken for each other from this distance, but as they advanced, they were easier to distinguish. Raiaan’s slight limp always gave him away, and Jerum walked with perfect strides. But their short copper hair and their thin-lipped smiles were the same. Lorn smiled brightly as her brothers approached.

  “That isn’t your seat yet, dear sister,” Jerum shouted across the room.

  Lorn sat in the middle of three great thrones, her back against one arm and her legs across the other, the toes of her boot resting gently on the throne beside her. She traced her fingers around the phoenix head carved deeply into the back of the chair.