Chapter 6
six
. . .
Ever
The cabin loses all of what little charm it had as I pace the few feet of space afforded to me.
Sleep is easily won with the gentle rocking of the boat, but fitful. Escaping the memory of falling off the cliff is hard, and I wake with a start more than once, believing I’m about to crash into the rocks and drown in a gruesome end.
All thanks to Fenix.
He hasn’t come back to visit. Neither has Selina.
The saving grace of my confinement is knowing that my power has returned. My pendant is warm and offers a comfort that is in total opposition to how I felt about it when the Maker hung it around my neck for the first time.
When pacing back and forth grows too tiresome, I sit and force peace into my raging mind by pretending that Kyra is right next to me, calming me. Willing me to get a grip and harness the power I have.
My breath slows, my heart rate follows, and I let my mind travel to the depths of the well in my chest to immerse myself in all the power and magic I can pull from, and the more I focus, the more I can feel it answer.
It’s distant, a ghost of what it might be, but it’s there. A whisper that soothes and relieves. A pulse in my blood. Everything in me latches onto that, as if I can clench my fist around it and use it to fight.
I just have no fucking clue how to throw a punch with it.
The snick of the door lock rings in the room, and as if conjured, Selina nods her head in a way for me to follow. “He wants to see you.”
“Great.”
She doesn’t answer me and leads me next door to his cabin.
The only difference in the setup this morning is that a new table has been set for breakfast, away from the one in the centre which holds all the information ready for my greedy eyes to race over.
The sun shines through the stained glass, splashing colours into the room, but beyond their beauty, I see nothing but ocean.
Water and waves for as far as I can see, and it freezes any hope in my chest. Not only am I not in Kirrasia, but I have no idea where we’re heading.
It must be either Sunatora or Nehandun because there’s nowhere else, right?
“Sit.”
I do.
“Go on. I saw how hungry you were yesterday.”
I raise my eyes to his and try to see the catch, but my stomach once again betrays me, and I take a roll and start to pull it apart. Fenix sits, casually leaning back in his chair, slicing an apple with a knife.
“Don’t think about it. You’re not quick enough, or strong enough.” He nods at me and waves the knife in his hand.
I dip my eyes back to my food and continue to eat.
“You look rested, so I assume you slept well.”
“Some.” I don’t elaborate.
“Ah, still not wanting to talk.”
“I was happy to talk last night. It was you who didn’t like my choice of questions.”
“Fine. Let’s start fresh. Together.” He lifts a ceramic water jug and fills my cup. “Cheers.” He puts the knife down and lifts his own cup in the gesture.
I eye mine, then his. He gets the message and rolls his eyes before taking a large gulp. His task complete, I move my cup, and we knock them together.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I sip the water, and as the cool liquid hits my lips, I’m reminded of my thirst. Slowly, I drain the contents, and I’m met with Fenix’s smile as I set the cup back down.
“Do you know about Novandia?” he asks.
I could lie, but right now, there doesn’t seem to be any obvious advantage to that, save annoying my so-called brother further. The hard reality is that for him to start telling the truth and trusting me, I need to give him something in return.
“He’s Aslendrix’s brother. The sun god.”
“You were told some things, then.”
“And you were told everything, by the sounds of what you’ve said so far. Why don’t you share some of your knowledge, Brother?”
“All of my wisdom is yours.” He rocks back in his chair. “But you have to ask for it.”
“Until you decide not to share? I’m sure I asked you questions last night.” My eyes stray to the table with the wealth of information scattered about.
“Have a look. I already know you did when you took a bath. You helped yourself to my clothes. No way you’d leave the rest of the information untouched,” he scoffs, then goes back to slicing his apple.
I’m not going to wait to be told again. I stand, shoving the chair back and cringing at the screech it makes against the wooden floor.
I survey the maps, the information, and try to pull it together with what I remember from Orion’s office, but there aren’t helpful keys or indicators like in the pages of the books we studied.
As I creep around the desk, committing what I can to memory, the questions I want to ask about my parents grow heavy, weighing me down, intruding on every thought in my mind. But I’m still not ready to open that box and face all that might be inside.
“Why do people in Estereah not know about Kirrasia—about magic? And why do the Kirrians proclaim peace, yet have an army, which you seem to have, too?” I choose my question, hoping for insight and to at least appease Fenix enough that he’ll grant me an answer rather than shove me out of the cabin.
“There is a lot I can’t tell you. The why, for instance, might be more useful if directed at the Maker.”
“You know the Maker?” My head snaps up to meet his pale green eyes.
“No. I was kept from Kirrasia. That, at least, we share, Sister. At least until recently. My education has been crafted in a different light.”
“Stop with the riddles, Fenix.”
“If I tell you, will you call me Fen?”
Stars, Ten. I’m thrown back to the night under the stars when he was keeping things from me, but asked me to call him by his shortened name because we were friends.
“No.” My answer is quick. I won’t give him something he wants in exchange for information. I have to keep the boundaries he’s already drawn. He is not my brother.
“Interesting. Will that change, perhaps?”
“I don’t know. Will you ever give me a straight answer?”
“Do you know anything about Aerith and Elex?” His eyes home in on me, looking for a reaction, perhaps.
Elex. Orion had used that name before. And my gut told me then it might be my father.
Seems he’s not done with playing games. Well, I’m done with being at a disadvantage. I might not know how to wield my power, but I’ve tried before. I entered Orion’s memory and saw the aftermath of a battle.
I’ve got nothing to lose now. I clench my hand around the edge of the table and concentrate on the man across the room and the two names he just said.
If he doesn’t want to give me information, then fine, I’ll take it from him anyway.
My mind empties of everything except for those names and the only other time I’ve heard someone mention them. The well at the centre of my chest is still, barely a ripple, but I know I can do this—I’ve done this. That should give me the confidence I need.
But there’s no rush of power, no flood of energy, only a trickle of water, of shadow, snakes out towards Fenix, and he tilts his head at me as if questioning what I’m doing.
But as soon as my magic reaches him, it seems to respond, like it recognises him. The strain to force my energy lessens, and it seems to flow directly to him.
A scattering of images starts, like those first times back home when my magic was awakening. I don’t know the places or scenes I’m shown, but then it stops on something, and I’m pulled into it, like before.
The smell of pine and earth hits me as the gloom clears. I see Fenix with an older man. A much older man. His skin is lined and sagging, and he immediately reminds me of the Maker. He’s talking to Fenix, but I can’t hear what they are saying.
“What are you doing?” Fenix’s voice rings in my mind, and I’m suddenly back in the cabin, looking over the maps. But he hasn’t moved from his position at the breakfast table.
“I’m… looking.”
“Not where I thought you would be.”
“If you’re only going to taunt me, I’d rather go back to my room until we reach wherever you’re taking me.” My hand relaxes against the wood, and I shove the parchments in a fit of fury, sending them flying to the floor.
Fenix bolts upright and scurries to collect the pieces of his plan that I’ve just disorganised for him. But as he leans down to pick them up, a gold pendant falls from behind his shirt, glinting in the light.
It stops me in my tracks.
Because it’s like mine.
Mustering my courage and not caring if he freezes my body in mid-motion, I charge towards him and push his chest, pulling the chain from his neck so I can see the pendant in more detail.
It’s like my ring, but instead of two crescents framing a dark stone, there’s only one.
The crescent sits at the top, whereas I wear the ring so that the crescent is cradling the stone.
It’s a pair. The gold is even the same, with identical markings to the ring.
It’s a perfect match, as if created to be together.
“Starting to believe me now?”
“Where did you get this?” I drop it and take a step back from him, squeezing my hand closed and rubbing my thumb over the ring on my finger.
“Probably the same place you got your ring. Your necklace is a pretty addition, though. A bit sorry that I didn’t get my own.”
“Where, Fenix?”
“Kalan. He gave it to me a long time ago. Didn’t tell me much about it. That came later.”
No. This can’t be.
I feel the subtle vibrations grow as I shake my head in defiance.
Kalan is Lyle’s friend. He left me the brooch, not the ring. Lyle gave me the ring. I turn away and lean against the table as my mind runs over everything I know about those two things—everything that Lyle has ever said to me about Kalan.
He knew I had a brother?
Does that mean Lyle does, too?
The questions build, growing bigger and darker in my mind, and the calm water at the centre of my chest starts to shake as my emotions grow wild and unruly.
“It belonged to Elex. In case you were wondering. And I’m pretty sure that ring you’re holding onto like your life depends on it belonged to Aerith.”
“Who are Elex and Aerith?” I turn back to Fenix, but my body doesn’t feel right. It feels… off.
“They are our parents.”