Chapter Thirty-Eight
Terrible things have been done in the name of knowledge.
Tabitha Wysteria
Kai returned with Dawn cradled in his arms, her body limp and unconscious.
Alina had been perched on the edge of the terrace, flanked by Isla and Arena, as the velvet hush of night slowly bled into dawn.
It was then, just as the sky began to blush with morning light, that they had seen it.
An immense red-golden phoenix slicing through the horizon, its wings aglow with embers, leaving a glittering trail of falling fire in its wake.
Alina had wasted no time, sending Isla to summon Mareena.
And by the time Kai’s feet touched stone, the phoenixian princess had already arrived.
She looked effortlessly radiant, too composed for someone freshly roused from sleep.
Alina couldn’t help but wonder if she had even slept.
Surely no one could rise from slumber looking like that.
‘I shall have the physicians tend to her,’ Mareena said, her voice smooth and commanding. At her gesture, several attendants stepped forward, ready to take Dawn from Kai’s grasp. But his arms only tightened, his posture stiffening with panic.
It was in that breathless pause that Alina understood.
If Dawn was unconscious, then perhaps she was no longer hidden behind a glamour. Perhaps the mask she wore to blend among them had slipped away in sleep, leaving only the truth behind. And if so, anyone who saw her now would know exactly what she was.
‘We should take her to my chambers for now,’ Alina said quickly, her gaze catching Kai’s in silent understanding. He gave the faintest of nods.
But Mareena stepped forward, eyes sharp and knowing. There was no doubt in her expression, she sensed something amiss. Tilting her head, she said gently, ‘It is all right. No harm shall come to the witch.’
Kai and Alina exchanged wary glances, the air suddenly brittle.
‘How did you—’ Kai began, but Mareena merely offered a soft shrug.
‘I suspected from the beginning that your companion was no wyverian,’ she said, her voice like silk woven with steel.
‘This is a kingdom of knowledge, Kai Blackburn. We study all lands, all peoples, all their secrets. We recognise deception when it stands before us.’ Her crimson glare flitted to Alina’s for the briefest of moments, sharp and assessing, before drifting away.
‘The physicians will tend to her injuries,’ she added, her tone calm, but edged with certainty.
‘I’ll carry her,’ Kai said firmly, his voice a low growl of defiance.
Mareena shook her head, slow and resolute. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. The wounded are taken to a separate wing of the palace. Entry is permitted to only a select few.’
‘Then make an exception,’ he snapped, the words cracking like thunder on stone.
But Mareena’s expression remained cold and unflinching, carved from marble. Alina, watching, couldn’t help but recall their first encounter. How the phoenixian princess had seemed then: regal, aloof, and as intimidating as she was magnificent.
‘It is quite simple, wyverian prince,’ Mareena said, her voice smooth and unyielding. ‘If you wish your companion to be healed, you will hand her over and allow my physicians to tend to her. If not, she may remain in her rooms. But no aid shall be offered.’
Kai’s jaw tensed, teeth clenched with unspoken fury.
Alina stepped forward, her tone gentle. ‘Kai, they won’t harm her.’
But it was clear he did not believe her. She tried another angle.
‘We could take her to her chambers for today,’ she said softly. ‘But if we leave her injuries untreated… the leg might not heal as it should. There could be other wounds we cannot see. She might develop a fever. An infection. She could die.’
Something shone in his dark eyes. Fear, perhaps, or something perilously close to heartbreak. He looked down at the woman lying motionless in his arms, his gaze softening with such quiet reverence that Alina found herself stiffening.
That look should have roused envy. Instead, it fanned the embers of something far uglier. Fury. Fury that he could feel such tenderness for a witch. Fury at herself, for allowing that witch back into their lives. Fury for caring enough about him to grant the creature mercy she had not earned.
‘Fine,’ Kai said at last, his voice a blade dulled by resignation. ‘But if a single white hair is missing from her head, there will be no sea deep enough, no land wide enough, no sky high enough for any soul in this palace to hide. I will find them. And I will end them.’
Mareena did not so much as blink. The servants stepped forward, carefully lifting the witch from his grasp. All the while, the princess’s scarlet gaze remained fixed on the wyverian, unshaken, unafraid.
‘Neither you nor your threats frighten me, wyverian prince,’ she said, once Dawn was secured in the arms of Mareena’s servants.
With the grace of a flame caught in wind, she turned on her heel and departed, leaving Kai standing in the silence, cradling only air, his eyes locked on the path where Mareena and the unconscious witch had vanished.
…
Alina had slipped away to take breakfast with Isla and Arena.
Kai had stormed off, his departure marked by a trail of muttered curses and boiling frustration.
But his troubles were no longer hers to shoulder.
She had done more than enough. Granting the witch the chance to return had been a gift, not a promise.
In one of the many sun-drenched courtyards of the palace, they gathered around a low stone table adorned with an opulent display of exotic fruits, soft cheeses, and delicate cuts of meat.
Towering trees loomed above, their foliage ablaze with colour, the air thick with the perfume of blossoms and the trill of songbirds hidden in the branches.
Nearby, peculiar-looking felines—creatures with sleek fur and golden eyes—lounged lazily beside mosaic-tiled fountains, their tails flicking in the dappled light.
‘Camar daspasa,’ Arena chided, eyeing Isla with both concern and faint revulsion as the latter devoured her food with unrelenting enthusiasm. ‘Yaa da vas chaaka.’ Eat slower. You’ll choke.
Isla merely snorted in reply, lifting her chin in stubborn defiance of the warning.
‘Asta has raca,’ she said with a grin, grabbing another slice of meat and a wedge of cheese. ‘Tra asta.’ It’s delicious. Try this. She tore off a piece and offered it to Arena, who sighed and opened her mouth, allowing the taller of the two to feed her like an indulged child.
Alina observed the exchange in silence, lifting slivers of fruit to her lips more for the motion than the nourishment.
She wasn’t truly hungry, but it was something to occupy her hands.
Phoenixian tradition favoured eating with one’s hands, much like the customs of the desert tribes, which at least allowed them to feel a little less like outsiders in this strange, fire-kissed land.
‘Khana craar sha hassan braha,’ Isla said, her voice thick with disbelief as she swallowed the last of her food and stared down at her hands with a kind of quiet sorrow. I can’t believe she was a witch.
‘Yaa khana na?’ Arena’s brows lifted in surprise. You can’t?
‘Yaa khan na?’ Isla shot back, her frown creasing her forehead. You can?
‘Palida farahi da capas nada,’ Arena replied with a careless shrug. ‘Ama, vat waa haka ahara na?’ Wyverians are capable of anything. But what do we do now?
Alina couldn’t help but smile faintly at the phrase the desert folk used for the wyverian people. In the Sandhii tongue, there was no word for “wyverian”, instead, they were known simply as pale foreigners. Apt, she supposed, and somewhat poetic in its own right.
‘Changa nada,’ Isla said with finality, diving back into her meal. ‘Waa lacharan Saren.’ It changes nothing. We have to fight Saren.
‘Qa ayada,’ Alina said at last, her voice quiet but firm. Both girls turned to her, startled, their moon-white eyes widening. It might help.
‘Kam na?’ Arena asked, leaning in, her curiosity piqued. How?
‘Ran braha qa ayada vankar Saren,’ Alina answered, reaching for a pear, then thinking better of it and choosing an apple instead. Pears reminded her too much of home, and she was not ready to dwell on that. To have a witch might help defeat Saren.
‘Ama, ni wadara braha ayada na?’ Isla asked, doubt flickering across her face. But why would a witch help us?
Alina opened her mouth to respond, but the words never came.
She sensed a presence approaching, a shift in the air around their little table.
Turning slightly, she caught sight of Mareena gliding towards them, her footsteps soundless against the tiled floor.
Only a few hours had passed since the princess had disappeared with Dawn and the servants, and yet her return felt charged with something unspoken, something just beneath the surface.
Mareena greeted the three girls with a graceful incline of her head, though her focus lingered solely on Alina.
‘We have finished with…’ She hesitated, the rest of her sentence trailing into silence, clearly unwilling to speak too openly of the witch in their midst. Alina understood at once and rose to her feet.
‘Would you care to…’ Mareena’s voice trailed again as her eyes drifted towards Arena and Isla, still seated at the table, chewing thoughtfully between mouthfuls of fruit and cheese. Whatever she needed to say, it was meant for Alina alone.
Catching the unspoken cue, Alina stepped quickly to the princess’s side and offered a small wave to the desert girls. ‘Bana camar,’ she said, a common blessing among the sand folk, wishing them a good meal. Eat well.
She followed Mareena through the winding grandeur of the palace: soaring halls bathed in morning light, wide-open galleries filled with flora from across the eight kingdoms. They passed door after door, most gilded with carvings and opulence, until they came upon one that stood in stark contrast. Plain wooden doors, guarded by two silent sentinels.
Alina slowed, curiosity prickling at the back of her neck. None of the other chambers she’d seen had guards. This place was different.
Mareena turned to face her, folding her hands before her with the calm certainty of a tutor addressing her pupil. ‘Among phoenixians, knowledge is our most sacred pursuit. We revere it above gold, power or even magic. We study, we preserve, we protect.’
Alina inclined her head in understanding.
‘We believe knowledge is strength,’ Mareena continued.
‘And that such strength must be safeguarded, should our kingdom ever fall to ruin.’ She gestured to the guarded doors.
Plain, sturdy things, devoid of ornament, and yet somehow more imposing for it.
‘Beneath the palace, we have fashioned a sanctuary, a world within a world, where all we have learnt may endure, even if everything else burns. I would like to show it to you.’
Alina hesitated, brows drawing together in mild concern. ‘Is this where you’re keeping the… Dawn?’ She caught herself just in time, cautious not to speak the word “witch” aloud.
‘Yes,’ Mareena replied simply, her expression unreadable.
Alina sensed the arrival of another presence behind her, familiar and undeniable. She didn’t turn. She didn’t need to. She knew the weight of that presence too intimately. Hessa leaned in, her breath ghosting against Alina’s ear like a whisper from a dream.
‘I told you, amira,’ she said, voice low and knowing, ‘phoenixians delight in their alchemy. Every creature you’ve seen, they’ve conjured, surely beneath our very feet.’
Alina drew herself upright, spine stiffening. She hadn’t seen Hessa in what felt like lifetimes, and ever since that kiss with Kai, she’d feared she never would again. The question had haunted her. Had she destroyed Hessa? Had she banished her with that single act of weakness?
Mareena’s voice broke gently through her thoughts. ‘If I show you what lies below,’ she said, grave now, ‘you must never speak of it to another soul. It is forbidden. Sacred. What is done there… must remain there.’
Alina hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing on her chest like stone.
‘Don’t,’ came Hessa’s warning, sharper this time, tinged with something brittle.
Alina’s hand instinctively flew to her chest, fingers brushing over the place where Hessa’s stone pendant lay hidden beneath her clothes.
She longed to listen. To heed the voice that had always guided her through shadow.
But something else pulled at her, a curiosity laced with defiance, a thirst for truth she couldn’t ignore.
And just like that, the air shifted. The warmth behind her disappeared. Hessa was gone. The ghost of her presence vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving Alina with a deep and sudden chill, as though she’d been plunged into icy water.
Disappointment twisted within her like a knife. She had lost Hessa again. No, driven her away. The silence she left behind was louder than any scream.
She isn’t real.
Alina pushed the thought aside. She focused on the figure before her made of flesh and blood, not spirit. Mareena, with her gaze like garnets and poise carved from fire. Real. Tangible.
‘Show me,’ Alina said, voice steady now.
Mareena’s lips curled into a smile as the great wooden doors creaked open.
And without looking back, Alina stepped into the dark that waited beyond.