Chapter 10 Playing with Fire and Fangs
Playing with Fire and Fangs
ADARA
The flame-script beneath my skin pulsed in response to... something. The corruption here felt different. Hungrier.
"The corruption seems stronger in this direction," I said, watching Aeolus's reaction. "How does it feel to you?"
His lips twisted in disgust. "To fae senses, it's like.
.. imagine tasting something that should be sweet but has rotted.
The natural magic is still there but twisted.
Corrupted into something that repels rather than nurtures.
" He ran a hand through his silver hair, which seemed to have lost some of its ethereal sheen as we neared the spring.
"In our realm, it turns wild magic feral.
But here in the mortal realms... it feels more concentrated. Raw."
I nodded, understanding. Where my phoenix nature sensed it as a void trying to snuff out my inner flame, his fae essence experienced it as a perversion of natural order. Both perspectives of the same darkness, each uniquely unsettling.
The early afternoon sun couldn't quite pierce the twisted canopy above us, four hours of riding already weighing on my newly awakened body. Not that I'd admit that to my self-appointed fae babysitter. Each mile deeper brought a stronger taste of metal to the air, like licking a tarnished coin.
A splash echoed from the stream beside our path. Both horses froze, ears pricked forward, muscles trembling. When the sounds didn't repeat, we urged the horses forward despite their hesitation.
Even the sunlight felt wrong here, filtering through the canopy in sickly shades.
When Aeolus summoned a breeze to test the air, my flame-script flickered in response, as if my magic recognized his.
The brief resonance caught me off guard and had me fighting a sudden surge of warmth that spiraled through my chest and settled low in my belly, a sensation that had nothing to do with my phoenix nature.
Aeolus's breath caught, his storm-cloud eyes finding mine.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then he cleared his throat and looked away.
"The wind tastes wrong," he muttered, his playful demeanor subdued. His silver-white hair caught what little light penetrated the leaves, but even that seemed dimmed somehow. "Like metal and decay. This is typical of blighted lands."
I nodded, feeling the wrongness settle into my bones.
My mare's ears flicked back and forth, her muscles bunching beneath me as she fought her instinct to flee.
I couldn't blame her. Everything about this place set my teeth on edge.
Branches curled like arthritic fingers, leaves veined with pulsing purple.
The earth sucked at their hooves with each step.
"I wonder," I said softly, plucking a leaf from a nearby branch.
The moment it touched my skin, flame-script flickered beneath my fingers.
The leaf didn't so much burn as... dissolve, leaving behind an oily residue that made my stomach turn.
"The corruption's in everything here. The plants, the soil.
.." I wiped my hand on my borrowed clothes, trying not to think about how those had come to be in my possession.
Aeolus leaned closer, and our shoulders brushed.
Heat spiraled through my chest, settling low in my belly—nothing to do with phoenix fire.
"It's similar to what's happening in the fae realm, where the curse takes hold.
The same corruption that's eating away at our sacred groves, turning our wild magic savage.
" He gestured at a flowering vine whose blooms leaked a viscous black fluid.
"But this... this is more aggressive. More.
.. ravenous. The blight seems drawn to places of power, as if it feeds on magic itself. "
A chill ran through me at his words. If this spring was any indication, there must be dozens of sacred sites across all the realms, each one potentially corrupted. How many would I need to cleanse? And more importantly, what would happen if I failed?
A sound echoed through the trees—not quite a howl, not quite a scream. Both horses stopped dead, trembling. The noise had carried notes of hostility that made my newly awakened power surge protectively beneath my skin.
"That," I said, arching an eyebrow at Aeolus, "well, I'm sure that's nothing at all to worry about. Just your average forest creature dying horribly or mutating into something that wants to kill us. Either way, totally fine."
Aeolus raised his hand, and I felt the stirring of wind around us, carrying scents and sounds from deeper in the forest. His expression tightened. "Something's nearby. Multiple somethings, actually." He tilted his head, listening. "There's a menacing yet playful feel to them."
"Kind of like you," I muttered under my breath.
The path narrowed, forcing our horses closer together. Aeolus's smirk faltered as our knees brushed, and something in his expression shifted.
"You know," he said, voice uncharacteristically hesitant, "the fae don't form connections the way mortals do."
I glanced at him, surprised by this sudden change of topic. "What do you mean?"
"Our bonds form through magic, not emotion. I have an unusually keen ability to track magical signatures. It's why the Court sent me to find the Elemental Phoenix. The Court values magical power above all else."
I sensed there was more to this story. After all, why would Aeolus reveal so much to someone he'd just met? "And yet you seem... different from what I'd expect of a court fae."
A bitter smile touched his lips. "Perceptive of you. I wasn't always the Court's errand boy." He hesitated, then continued, "I once belonged to the Whisperwind Falls faction. The most prestigious circle within the Court. I specialized in secrets once. Until I trusted the wrong person with one."
"What happened?" I asked quietly.
"I trusted the wrong person with the wrong secret." His silver hair fell forward, hiding his expression. "A rival faction leader, someone I thought cared for me, used that knowledge to have me expelled. Two hundred and some years of service, erased in a single night."
I watched his profile, seeing the pain he masked with mischief. "Why tell me this now?"
"I'm not supposed to form bonds of any kind outside the Court." He looked at me then, his storm-cloud eyes unusually serious. "And yet I'm tasked with bringing you, the Elemental Phoenix, back there. It leaves me walking a fine line."
I rolled my eyes. Was he really explaining that he was definitely not going to get attached to me? "It's too bad I'm not just some bird you can put in a cage and carry off. But I hear what you're saying. I'm not someone you're supposed to get attached to. Got it."
His smile returned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just setting expectations, Phoenix. I'm still the Court's emissary. And bonds, whether magical or emotional, are liabilities in our world."
His fingers tightened on his reins. Whatever that secret had cost him, he was still paying for it.
Another of those not-quite-screeches echoed through the trees, closer this time. My mare shifted beneath me, and I laid a calming hand on her neck, letting a touch of warmth flow through my palm. Aeolus's gelding pressed close, seeking the protection of my heat.
A branch snapped somewhere ahead, followed by a wet chuffing sound that raised the hair on my neck. Both horses backed away, their eyes rolling white with fear.
"We should—" I started to say, but movement caught my eye. A figure emerged from the shadows—human, thankfully, though he moved with the careful steps of someone who knew exactly what lurked in these woods.
The hunter was middle-aged, his weathered face marked with scars that pulsed faintly in the dim light.
His gaze swept over us, assessing. His clothes were stained with mud and something darker that made my power stir uneasily.
Poorly healing wounds traced paths up his arms, gleaming with an oily sheen that seemed to writhe beneath his skin like tiny burrowing worms.
"You'll want to turn back," he said, voice gravelly from disuse. "These hills aren't safe anymore." His eyes lingered on me, and then on Aeolus, narrowing slightly. Something about our appearances must have given away our magical nature, because he added, "Even for your kind."
Beside me, Aeolus shifted in his saddle. "We're tracking the corruption's source," he said, his usual playful tone replaced by something more diplomatic. "Perhaps you could tell us what you've seen?"
The hunter's laugh held no humor. He pushed back his sleeve, revealing more of those strangely gleaming wounds.
"See these? Got them from what used to be river otters.
" His fingers traced one particularly nasty gash.
"Sweet creatures once. Used to watch them play in the streams. Now.
.." He shook his head. "Now they hunt in packs.
Set traps. Take pleasure in toying with their prey. "
I leaned forward, studying the wounds more closely. The corruption seemed to pulse beneath his skin, though it spread no further than the initial injuries. "How long has this been happening?"
"Started small, maybe two months back. First just the sacred spring water turning strange colors.
Then the plants began twisting." He gestured at the malformed vegetation around us.
"The otters changed last. But when they did.
.." He shuddered. "They're smart now. Too smart.
They've got these huge fangs. And they remember who hurts them. "
"Which way is the spring?" I asked, ignoring Aeolus's pointed side-eye. The flame-script under my skin pulsed with anticipation. If there was a way to cleanse this corruption, I needed to find it—not just for these realms, but to understand what I was up against.
"You don't wanna..." he began, before Aeolus cut him off.