56. Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Five
Archer
Earlier
The shadows were beginning to notice me, tendrils cooling around my wrists and ankles in an attempt to stop me from slicing through them.
It was as if they still couldn’t attack me as fully as they could others, but it was clear whatever immunity my curse granted me was gradually ebbing away.
Soon, I imagined I’d be as vulnerable to the revenant magic as anyone else in my army.
And, mortifyingly, without magic that could work against them.
Clenching my teeth, I struggled against the shadows’ tightening grip.
Icy-cold skated over my skin, raising gooseflesh even as sweat trickled down my back from my efforts.
I dug my boots into the earth, as if it could anchor me from the dark magic’s influence.
My muscles tensed and cramped; pain pierced through me like thousands of needlepoints. Then blades.
Everything was intensifying. The blackness had weight, consuming me alive. And in its grasp, my despair increased a hundredfold. My chest collapsed in on itself. My lungs refused to take a full breath.
I bit back the urge to scream.
I was weightless; numb; floating in an endless, meaningless void.
The chill that had cooled my skin now sank into my blood, my heart, my soul.
I couldn’t find Isoria, and for all I knew, she was gone.
My people were dying around me, our soldiers forced to retreat so far that now the revenants were tearing into homes and slaughtering citizens.
Lily was probably gone, and I wasn’t sure Owen would be able to fend off the general alone. All was lost.
My desire to fight fled. Let the darkness take me.
The shadows tightened around me, slithering about my legs, torso, chest, and neck. My breaths became labored as darkness closed in on my vision. Dimly, I was aware of the burning in my lungs, the distant protest of my body as my mind gave in.
Until—a flash of light in the void.
Brilliant, fiery orange light that chased back the shadows. They recoiled like living creatures dazed and terrified of the flames. But the fire entranced me.
As the shadows around the flickering flames withdrew, I had a clearer view of the city street I was on and the one who wielded the fire. Isoria.
She stood alone against the darkness, her flames dancing around one hand as she staggered to her feet.
Blood and dirt marred her skin and her clothes.
Her dark hair hung in wild strands around her face, its blue and purple strands shimmering in the light and reminding me of her phoenix’s coloring.
Tear tracks left paths down her cheeks. And yet, nothing but determination shone in her gold eyes.
My awe transformed into anger and hatred—and hope.
Here she was, the one I needed to slay in order to satisfy Vithenna and save my people.
I could end all of this now.
“There you are, death-lover,” I taunted.
With renewed strength, I lunged forward, the abruptness of my movement enough to break through the shadows’ hold.
When I stepped into the circle of the death-lover’s light, the shadows fell away from me entirely.
There was nothing but her unnatural flame illuminating her as she faced me, grief scrawled across her expression and sparkling in the unshed tears in her golden eyes.
All manipulation.
“You can’t fool me again.” I pulled on my magic, weaving my influence through her. Let the manipulator feel her own weapon used against her.
Isoria
My muscles relaxed, my flames snuffing out as Archer’s magic flooded me with warmth and peace and a false sense of security. But as soon as I thought that, the warning blinked out. All I knew was my adoration of the prince standing before me and my need to please him.
He walked forward, and I fell to my knees, wanting him to see my obeisance. “Your Highness.” I breathed his name like a prayer.
There was a hint of disgust leaking into his emerald eyes. His jaw was a hard line, unyielding and unimpressed. Sorrow cut through me like a knife. I wasn’t pleasing him. I needed to please him. What had I done wrong?
Prince Archer unsheathed a dagger from his belt and extended it toward me like a gift. My eyes widened. It was stunning, inlaid with glistening gemstones. I could see my reflection in its polished surface.
With trembling fingers, I took it, utterly in awe that he’d deigned to let me hold something of his.
“Plunge it into your heart.” He said the words so softly, so tenderly, like a lover’s confession.
“Anything for you, Your Highness,” I whispered, lifting the blade. This time, my grip was sure and strong. I wouldn’t fail my prince. Locking my gaze on his, I slammed the dagger toward my chest, right where I felt my heart pounding.
Something repelled the motion. The dagger’s tip bounced off the leather breastplate I wore with vicious force. Magic. I blinked down at it like I’d been betrayed, staring dumbfounded at the blade still in my hands and the unblemished leather over my chest.
“Someone dressed me in magicked leathers,” I said, the memory returning to me slowly, hazily. “I’m so sorry, my prince. I’ve failed you.”
Shadows were creeping toward us, and I remembered something else. We were fighting an undead army that wanted to destroy Rainsong and Prince Archer. Desperation and sorrow clawed up my throat.
Prince Archer’s gaze danced away, scanning the encroaching shadows with a sense of urgency. “Slit your throat,” he gritted out. “We don’t have time.”
There was something like regret in his tone. Something was wrong. A bit of dread slipped into my emotions, like a warning in my mind. I glanced at the dagger, unsure, but remembered I couldn’t fail him again. Maybe that was why I felt such dread and anguish.
I lifted the blade once more, ignoring the shouts of battle nearing us. Ignoring the swirling shadows.
Something slammed into me, fire emblazoning the air and burning away the shadows.
Archer’s grasp on his magic snapped as he cried out, and horror replaced the dazed adoration I’d been trapped within.
Huge claws seized me, lifting me high into the air over Rainsong, over the death and chaos, over the growing shadows and the magical battles swirling below.
I let the dagger fall as I looked upward. A phoenix. But I didn’t recognize its feathers, in glorious shades of bright pink and red. Its flames were like a beacon, but anyone on the ground caught in the grip of the revenants’ shadows probably didn’t notice, didn’t care.
I glanced beyond, noticing more light. Two more phoenixes flanked her, both adorned in feathers I did recognize, ones that made my heart leap with joy and hope. Brenton’s red and orange colors and Brook’s shimmering gold.
As suddenly as the first phoenix had soared into the velvety night sky, it dipped back downward, searing through shadow and depositing me in an empty alley.
An instant later, it had shifted into fae form.
A female with dark skin and curls matching the shades of her phoenix feathers stood beside me, her rich brown eyes scanning me worriedly.
“You’re Isoria Gildmere, the prince’s betrothed,” she said, her brow scrunched in confusion.
“Why was he…attacking you? Are you hurt?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Thank you for saving my life. But who are you? How do you know who I am?”
“Scarlet Tideglow, though Prince Archer once asked me to never go by that name again. He and his hunters took my son Cypress and me, but he had a change of heart. He and some of his friends helped me escape and moved me to a new home in Rainsong.”
I shook my head again, as if I could dispel her words. “That doesn’t make sense. He hates our kind.”
“Now I have Cypress hiding with close friends so I could fend off the revenant army and try to keep him safe. I never thought I’d find him working against you. Something is wrong.”
“No, this is how he’s always felt. There must be some confusion, some misunderstanding.”
As I finished speaking, the other phoenixes shifted, joining us in the alley.
Bren and Brook ran to me. Tears clogged my throat as I threw my arms around my brother, who nearly crushed me.
With a playful punch to Bren’s arm, Brook groaned, “Move out of the way, you big lug. That’s my best friend you’re smashing. ”
Bren moved aside, letting Brook tug me to her.
“You’re healed.” My sob shook my shoulders. “You’re all right. But…how are you both here?”
As my friend stepped back, shoving the golden braid that had fallen forward back over her shoulder, her eyes shot to Bren. They shared a look full of unspoken pain.
“Mama,” Bren said slowly, his gold eyes shimmering with sorrow. “She’s…she’s gone, Izzy.”
My stomach clenched with my grief. “I know,” I whispered. “I saw her. But she’s gone to rest in the afterlife now.”
Scarlet stepped forward, glancing among us.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your reunion, and I’m glad we have more phoenixes to fight with us.
But we don’t have time. You have to do something about the prince, Isoria, before he keeps hunting you down.
If his magic compels you again and one of us isn’t there… ”
I suppressed a shudder. “I don’t know what you mean. This is what he’s always wanted.”
She frowned. “That’s not true. He’s engaged to you.”
“Because we had to be! We were trapped in a blood bond, and it was the only excuse he could think of to convince his family. If we were parted, we would have died. But the goddess of life broke the bond, and now he is finally free to kill me.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” she breathed. “He’s in love with you.”
I laughed, and Bren and Brook joined me.
“That’s ridiculous,” I said, even as I wanted to sob.
Memories crept in of the way he’d held me, of how he’d confessed in the darkness that he felt something when he kissed me.
I could taste his lips, see his smile. I remembered the way he’d played with the phoenix children in Everhaven and called me Isa. Not Isoria or death-lover or Feathers.
“He died for you,” Scarlet went on.
My eyes snapped to hers. I could feel the shock radiating off my brother and best friend, but I couldn’t stop staring at Scarlet and soaking in her words.
“He came to me, frantic, and said you were grievously hurt. Asked how phoenix resurrection magic worked. He said you were going to die and he needed to help you return.”
My pulse pounded erratically in my ears.
I couldn’t breathe. Here I’d thought he’d helped me when I was on the brink of death, not that he’d burned and died alongside me.
Why hadn’t he told me? “Self-preservation,” I heard myself saying through numb lips.
“He would have died anyway because of our blood bond if I didn’t come back. It was the only way.”
“Was it, though? I’ve never seen a male wilder or so panicked, more willing to walk through flames and burn for the one he loved. I only shared about our magic because he was so sincere and convincing. He said he’d pay any price, even death, to save you.”
My heart was in my throat. He convinced me too.
But everything rang falsely except for Scarlet’s words. He’d rescued her and her son. He’d told me they didn’t kill children, but he’d spared the child’s mother too.
He’d changed.
He’d saved a phoenix shifter.
He’d died for me.
I sucked in a heady breath. “Vithenna did something to him when she broke our bond. Stole something from him or manipulated him.”
“You have to bring him back to himself,” Scarlet proclaimed.
“How?” I blinked back the tears threatening to overtake me. There was no time. Already I could hear revenants creeping deeper into the city, approaching this temporary sanctuary Scarlet had found for us.
“You’re a phoenix. If she took something from him, a core piece of his heart or soul or mind, then heal that piece of him.
If anyone can do it, it’s you. He loves you.
He resurrected alongside you, burned in your fire.
Those bonds run deep. Whatever he’s forgotten, his soul cannot have lost forever. Make him remember.”