6. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Isoria
Darkness clung to the rainforest so thickly it felt like a living thing as I trod along the Passionfire’s muddy banks, gradually wandering farther than I ever had before.
The guards posted at the edges of Everhaven to watch for intruders hadn’t questioned me—going swimming in the river was a normal occurrence, and bringing a pack full of soap, a towel, and a change of clothes wasn’t odd either.
They didn’t know I’d filled it with travel items and food I could take on a journey, or that I planned to shift once I ventured deeper into the forest and out of sight.
Solea hadn’t been heard from or seen in generations, or so the stories went, but she still had a temple resting near the edge of Rainsong.
Traveling near the capital’s border was practically suicide.
But if I didn’t find answers, I feared we were doomed anyway.
Surely the goddess of sunlight and fire would know what was harming the phoenixes that were strengthened by her element.
And if she wouldn’t speak to me, perhaps the temple worshippers would have an answer.
All I knew was that I had to do something. I refused to sit by and watch my people waste away, watch Aunt Aurora, Mama, and little ones like Zinnia suffer and perish.
My stomach twisted with guilt at the worry I’d give Mama, Bren, Brook, and the rest of Everhaven when I didn’t return. But worry was better than death.
Drawing a deep breath, I glanced over my shoulder to reassure myself I was out of the guards’ view at last. Everhaven was lost behind rows of ancient, mossy trees and climbing ferns and foliage.
But a rustling sound made me pause. I whirled on my heels, prepared to identify myself to the guards. Instead, a familiar, sandy-haired male stepped into the moonlight.
Bren’s gaze immediately snagged on my pack. “What are you doing, Izzy?”
I stiffened. “Bren, you have to let me go. You saw what happened earlier, how Zinnia’s lost her magic. We’re running out of time.”
Bren’s brow was furrowed, his gaze distant as he searched the forest. “I know,” he said at last. “I just didn’t want it to be you. I wanted it to be me.”
“I know,” I parroted back to him, lifting my eyebrows meaningfully. “Brook told me you tried to sneak off to Maris.”
He smiled sheepishly.
“But I’m the oldest,” I continued. “Let me take the risk.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he heaved a sigh. “What do I tell Mama? What if something—”
Swallowing back the growing lump in my throat, I threw my arms around him. Bren enveloped me in a bear hug, crushing me to his chest till I could scarcely breathe. “Older but always smaller,” he teased. “Please be safe.”
When I pulled back, Bren was blinking furiously.
“I’ll come back. I promise.” I squeezed his shoulder. “And someone has to stay behind to care for Mama and Brook and Aunt Aurora. Might as well be the big, strong one.” I nudged him, trying to lighten the mood.
Bren rolled his eyes. “You know they’re going to kill me when they discover I let you leave.”
“Don’t let them know you saw me. I left a note.”
“Oh, absolutely not.” Brook’s voice was sharp as she pushed through the foliage and around a nearby trunk, her hands firmly on her hips. “You think I didn’t see you both sneak out of your treehouse? I live next door.” She rolled her eyes.
“Brook, listen—”
“No, you listen.” Her eyes burned as she trained them on me.
“I heard what you told Brenton. I know we need help and nothing else has worked. But you? You’re the one who’s fated enemies with Prince Archer!
With your futures bound together! You’re the last person who should be traveling toward the capital.
It could set that future in motion, the one where he destroys all the phoenixes. ”
I drew a deep breath, the air still heavy with the scents of this afternoon’s rain and flowers and earth.
But it also felt heavy with promise and destiny.
“Or maybe that’s why it has to be me. Maybe he’s the one who inflicted this curse on us and the only way to stop him from fulfilling his prophecy is to fulfill mine. ”
Brook and Bren both stared at me for a quiet moment.
“You’re no killer, Izzy,” Brook said, but the resignation in her tone told me she was giving in.
Accepting that, to save her mother and mine, to save everyone, it had to be me who went.
Maybe she could feel the sense of inevitability in the air too, understood that despite my nature and our endless conversations about how we could never see me fulfilling the prophecy, no one could argue with Maris’ words.
No one in the history of Emberglade had ever proven the oracle to be wrong.
With a ragged sigh, Brook threw herself at me, pulling me into a tight hug that stole my breath. “Solea’s fire, I hate this. If my mother didn’t need me at her bedside, you wouldn’t be able to go alone.”
I laughed through my tears. “I wish you could come.”
“If you don’t return, I’ll hunt you down and drag you back here,” Brook added as she pulled away, frowning and pretending to punch my arm to hide the fact that her eyes were watering.
“No, I will,” Bren cut in.
“I’ll come back,” I promised them both. “No hunting necessary. See you soon.”
And with that, before I could let more emotions overrun me, I turned and shifted, spreading my wings and leaping toward the rainforest canopy and the velvet-dark sky beyond.
Ivy clung to the temple, rising out of the mists at the edge of the rainforest like a beacon of hope.
Night had descended and the moon was already high and bright in the sky, gracing my footsteps with her light.
Though I always missed the sun when she set, something about the cool light of the moon and stars was soothing, reminding me that they echoed the brilliance of the daylight.
The temple itself sat quiet, its heavy metal doors barred against the night and its windows all shuttered. Likely its inhabitants had gone to sleep to prepare for a sunrise wakeup and time of worship. Or at least, that’s what I assumed the worshippers at the temple would do.
As I approached, I studied the etchings on the doors and along the stone walls—what wasn’t concealed by the foliage.
Depictions of the sun, flames, and rays of lights traced beautiful patterns along the exterior of the temple.
Large torches rested at regular points on either side of the staircase leading to its doors, but they were unlit.
My uneasiness grew as I climbed the large steps, straining my ears for any sound and scanning the forest for any sign of life.
It didn’t surprise me that no worshippers were out at this time, but I’d expected the torches to be lit.
Or were they shunned now for their association with phoenix shifters?
Had they taken a stand against the violence and laws against us?
Pausing at the door, I wiped the sweat from my brow, listening once again for any stirring inside.
There was only the chirring of insects and movement of unseen animals creeping through the boughs overhead—birds and lizards I’d disturbed with my passing or nocturnal creatures seeking out prey.
I knocked on the metal doors, the thudding sound matching the rhythm of my pounding pulse.
A minute passed. Two.
Biting my lip, I tried again, waiting once more to no avail.
Surely the temple would be unlocked and its inhabitants wouldn’t turn away someone seeking to enter the sanctuary and worship the goddess. I hoped not, though times had changed, and maybe they barred visitors for their own protection.
I tried the doorknob and it gave way, letting me push open the door without resistance.
Solea, I prayed, pressing my hand over my heart, please forgive me for trespassing.
Moonlight poured through the windows of a long hallway with a high ceiling, revealing thick rugs decorated in vibrant shades of red, orange, yellow, and pink that reminded me of sunrises and sunsets.
Tapestries and paintings adorned the walls, a riot of color in an otherwise stark place of stone.
The worshippers had worked hard to make the space inviting, though none of the candles were lit.
I frowned, but again, I assumed that meant they’d all gone to sleep.
Entering the temple, I crept quietly down the hall, my footsteps soundless as my boots sank into the plush rugs.
At the end of the hall was another set of double doors, these ones ornately carved wood, but they were also shut.
Assuming they led to the inner sanctum where I could pray to the sun goddess, I hastened my steps.
And then it hit me—the chill down my spine, the flash of discomfort. I hadn’t been around it before, but my magic knew what it was, instinctively, because of my tether to healing and life and death.
Someone nearby had passed. No—more than one. Had the temple workers been attacked?
“Help!” The sudden scream tore through the silence, making my skin crawl and my healer’s instincts fire. And it wasn’t coming from within the temple, but outside.
Whirling around, I sprinted back toward the doors, throwing them open and racing down the steps. There were more screams coming from behind the temple, where I caught glimpses of gravestones in the misty yard, the full moon casting them in a surreal glow.
Before I reached the graveyard, the screams cut off.
Throat burning, I stopped, taking the risk of summoning my fire magic in a ball of flame that hovered over my hand to give me some light.
As soon as the fire flared to life, I glimpsed dark forms lurking behind the stones and the bodies.
So many bodies—their limbs bent in the wrong directions or their eyes wide open and glazed, staring unseeing at the stars.
An open grave rested nearby, as if those gathered had been trying to bury someone when they’d been slain.
All my instincts screamed at me to flee before the lurking forms came for me.
I started reaching for my phoenix to shift when one of the figures darted forward.
It looked like it had once been a female fae, but now it wore tattered clothes, its ragged hair was half-missing, and pieces of flesh had rotted away, revealing the bones beneath.
Its bulging, soulless eyes locked on me.
My cry of fear died in my lungs as climbing roots tore through the earth and slammed into me, knocking me backward. I collapsed to the earth, my head striking the temple wall. Sparks flashed across my vision and the world spun. When I tried to stand, nausea and pain lanced through me.
And the figure was still charging.
Ignoring the pain, I shifted and launched into the air, my wings stirring the grass beneath me.
Another form darted away, this one looking like it might have still been alive. She charged through the foliage, taking advantage of the creature’s focus on me so she could escape.
The roots flew toward me, tangling around my limbs and dragging me downward.
My magic faltered, but I fought. Whatever tried to control me seemed weaker than its first attack had been, and I was able to keep pumping my wings, gradually gaining altitude.
If I could tear free and make it to the trees, maybe I could find a place to hide myself.
Once the creature lost me, I could wait and make my escape toward the capital.
More forms moved below, the scene difficult to make out in the darkness, but no others attacked me.
Either I was too far away, or their magic wasn’t powerful enough to work against my flight.
Slowly, the roots’ grasp on me weakened, allowing me to pull free.
They fell, tumbling to the ground limply.
I landed in a tree near enough to watch over the graveyard and assure myself no temple workers still lived, but far enough the lurking creatures wouldn’t see me.
Half-shifting so I was in my fae form except for the addition of a pair of fiery, magical wings, I leaned against the trunk, catching my breath.
What are they? They moved agilely despite the fact that the one who’d attacked me had appeared half-dead.
Or more than that—already dead, yet still moving.
Vicious and soulless, with magic I’d never encountered before.
Is a necromancer at work?
I repressed a shiver. I thought the most dangerous thing I’d encounter was phoenix hunters. What was I supposed to do to defend against enemies that were already dead?