55. Chapter Fifty-Four #2
“But I need you, Mama. Please don’t leave me.” My throat ached with sobs I wouldn’t release, not when I clung so desperately to a hope that was impossible. Not when I needed to convince Mama’s soul to stay.
“You’ve seen what happens when souls aren’t allowed to travel to the afterlife.” Her words were firm yet gentle. “I’ll wait for you there.”
I trembled, not daring to say the words I needed to.
How could I let go, when there were a thousand words left unsaid?
How could I let her move on, when I could not?
I needed her—her wisdom, her strength, her love, her guidance.
There was so much I had yet to learn. So many things I had yet to share with her.
“You are strong, Izzy,” Mama murmured, her adoring smile something I wanted to bask in for eternity. “You and Bren have one another, and I know you will save the other phoenix shifters. It’s your destiny, foretold by Maris herself.”
I blinked at the tears still blurring my vision, another memory tugging at me. A cottage. Wrinkled hands. A storm in the night. Mama’s wavering voice as her fingers squeezed mine. “What do you mean?”
“The prophecy, Izzy. You are the phoenix shifter that Maris foresaw, the one who will be the ruin of the usurping royal family. And in doing so, you will save the phoenixes.”
I inhaled sharply, everything clarifying. My mind whirled, pieces clicking together. Vithenna reminded Archer and me that we’re fated enemies. Everyone has always focused on how Archer and I are connected. But I’m the ruination of the family.
“The king,” I breathed. What if the usurper king, the great enemy of my people, the one who had brought so much suffering upon us already, was the key all along?
He was the cause of so much of the death and misery in Emberglade.
He was the thief who’d taken the royal throne and name.
His ruination would fulfill the prophecy, and surely it would satisfy Vithenna.
Maybe I didn’t need to kill Archer. Maybe he hated me and wanted me dead, but I could still spare his life.
“Izzy, please,” Mama said gently, ripping me from the revelation. She brushed her fingers over mine, but I couldn’t feel her touch. “My soul is weary. Send me on. That is the best way you can love me now.”
I nodded, too overcome to say my agreement aloud. I couldn’t let her suffer a moment more, even if being the one to send her away might be my own undoing. Even if I never recovered from this.
“I love you, Mama, to the end of my days and into eternity. Wait for me there.”
“Not a moment will pass without me dreaming of you and Brenton until you’re both back in my arms,” Mama vowed.
I forced a smile as a sob escaped, racking my shoulders. Dashing away the tears from my cheeks, I stood. “I release you into the afterlife, Mama. Rest and be with Father again.”
Mama’s smile was bittersweet. Though it was her soul, not her physical body looking at me, I could have sworn her eyes glistened with tears. “I’m sorry I have to leave you, but know you’ll carry me with you always, just as I carry you with me every day.”
And then she was gone. The urge to drop to my knees and weep over her body consumed me. I felt empty, everything in me drained.
But the cries of the fighting, the wounded, and the dying rushed back soon enough. Most of the city remained cloaked in darkness so thick I couldn’t make out where the battle continued to rage. But they needed me.
My people needed me too.
I wiped at my face, gathering my strength and willpower.
You can do this. Keep going. More shrieks pierced the air, closer this time.
I stumbled through the darkness, searching for my magic, praying it was strong enough to return after whatever Mama had struck me with had stolen it.
Ahead, a female crouched near a house, weeping.
“Help! Please, help us. She’s hurt. I managed to kill the—the creature. It got into our home.”
Sure enough, we were far enough into the city that the revenants were likely tearing through more homes as we spoke, slaughtering citizens who were hiding away, praying for a miracle.
My stomach dropped when I saw the child—perhaps no more than four or five—cradled in her mother’s arms. It was even more painful after saying goodbye to Mama. I couldn’t have another mother and daughter forced apart too soon, not if I could help it.
Dropping beside the weeping mother, I surveyed the child’s wounds. Her torso was badly cut, blood discoloring her clothes and staining the front of her mother’s tunic. Already, her eyes were glazed and unfocused, her brown skin touched with a greyish, unnatural pallor.
I called on my magic once more. You must work. I need you.
Shadows pressed in on all sides, their weight oppressive, their painful chill a constant ache in my bones.
With a whispered prayer to Solea, I lifted my hand as my magic unfurled at last. Flames exploded around my fingers.
Holding them aloft like a lantern, I dispelled the nearest shadows.
They had weight to them like a physical thing, a heavy darkness I had to punch through and shove away.
Coiling tendrils like fingers reached toward me and retreated when I waved my fire near them.
They couldn’t tolerate the warmth and light.
Though calling on my magic drew on my strength, sending away the shadows was also invigorating. The ache in my bones melted away; the agony creeping through my skin and veins retreated. Warmth and hope bloomed in my chest, buoying me as I placed my palms over the child’s wounds.
The sounds of battle exploded in my ears, as if sending away the darkness also cleared the way for the noise to reach me more readily. But I blocked it out, focused on this one task before me.
With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let myself in, experiencing the young female’s pain.
Gentle warmth and peace flooded through the connection I’d formed between us, passing on to her.
I opened my eyes, watching her skin knit back together.
Color returned to her cheeks. She blinked, her silver eyes focusing on her mother once more.
“Oh, Wren,” the mother whispered, crushing her daughter to her chest as she dissolved once again into tears.
I only waited long enough for the mother to collect herself, dashing away her joyful tears and thanking me.
“Be wary. Find what cover you can and arm yourself,” I warned. Then I was off, calling on my flames again to pierce the darkness so I could find someone else to save.
Surely the soldiers wouldn’t fight off their own healer, despite their deeply held prejudices. Or that is what I told myself. I had to at least try.
Lifting my flame higher, I took my first step into the street, toward the sounds of battle, when a painfully familiar voice spoke.
“There you are, death-lover.”
I whirled, cradling my flames as they danced wildly around my fingers at the movement.
And met the searing green gaze of Prince Archer.