CHAPTER EIGHT
Scarlet feathers flashed across my vision.
All at once, the pain in my arm lessened to a dull ache.
I took my first deep breath since falling, the world sharpening back into focus.
Blinking, I surveyed the sorry state of my arm.
It was covered in blood. Tentatively, I wiggled my fingers.
No answering pain. No open wounds. Following a thorough inspection of my remaining limbs, I rose to my feet.
I whirled around. My favorite trio of aspiring warriors stood together—the very picture of deference, heads bowed in respect.
Emerson was nowhere in sight. The reason for their newfound humility was all too clear; Fiere sat perched upon Sargan’s outstretched arm.
The phoenix’s long tail draped elegantly downward, red and gold plumage shining brightly in the sun.
So bright, in fact, that I was momentarily forced to avert my eyes.
Phoenix ash. Yes, I could pick it out now. A black sooty residue intermixed with the blood on my arm.
Fiere’s melodic voice filled my mind.
You. As in the Midnight Sovereign. No, he had addressed me by a different title: Consort of the Moon.
Yet another name I’d never heard before.
I worried often that my position held no true significance; but the more I traveled, the more it seemed that maybe, once upon a time, my office had meant many things to many different people.
I stood a little taller, considering how to respond.
Phoenixes were long-lived, undergoing numerous cycles of death and rebirth. It sounded like Fiere was familiar with my predecessors. Would he know? At what point the Midnight Sovereign ceased to travel the realm? And why?
I wanted answers, but right now, I wanted his flame more.
“Thank you for healing me. You’re right. I came here with a purpose. To ask you for a boon. Your flame.”
“I admit I offered the men money. It was a mistake. I didn’t think I’d be able to talk with you on my own.”
“I am inclined to agree.”
His laughter bounced pleasantly around my head.
My answer was truthful. “The lampposts on my island refuse to light.”
The question gave me pause. I hadn’t yet put it into words myself. “It’s a step,” I finally said.
Fiere prodded.
“Helping people again.” Then, with more vulnerability in my voice, “For my life to mean something…”
A short silence.
The phoenix took flight, leaving me alone with the warriors.
Even after he departed, Sargan held his pose, standing as still as a statue, his empty arm outstretched, as if reluctant to drop it in case Fiere decided to return.
He looked awe-struck, his mouth hanging wide open.
My coin purse was still tied to his belt. A surge of anger flared through me.
“What did Fiere say to you?” Rem asked, breaking the silence.
I ignored him, my gaze fixated on the coin purse.
You did make a deal, part of me argued. And I had, but it’s not like they had exactly been honest with me about its terms. Some very relevant information had been withheld.
Surely that was enough to void our agreement?
Wasn’t it? I’d leave the money with Emerson if he were still here, but leaving it with Sargan? He didn’t deserve it.
“Fiere told me to take my money back,” I responded, daring him to contradict me.
Sargan glanced toward Rem and Malwin, but they said nothing, making no move to back him up.
Quite the welcome change from their earlier heckling.
Sargan scrunched his eyebrows together, thinking.
I could practically see him weigh the possibility I was lying against the chance I might be telling the truth.
Removing the coin purse from his belt, he tossed it at me. “Don’t come back.”
Irritation seeped into my voice. “Haven’t I made it clear? You don’t get to tell me what I can or cannot do.”
There was nothing more to be said. We parted ways. The men, back to their training. Me, back to the island.
I didn’t doubt that the phoenix would honor his word. In preparation for his arrival, I propped open the glass fixtures of each lamppost. The smell of Bunyip oil polluted the air. Still? I shook my head. It was pungent stuff. Hopefully Fiere wouldn’t mind.
I also fashioned a makeshift sling for my arm, which was still giving me some pain, even though the bone itself seemed to have healed, thanks to the healing ash sprinkled over my wound. I rubbed an herbal salve onto my hands as well to soothe the few burn blisters I’d acquired.
When the cottage chimes rang out, I looked to the sky, awaiting Fiere’s arrival. In the darkness, the phoenix’s radiance was considerably dampened, allowing me to stare at him without the need to look away. He was truly stunning.
I stepped off the path. “Hello. Yes, thank you for coming. The lampposts are ready.”
Was this it? The moment I had been waiting for?
Fiere glided gracefully down one side of the pathway, releasing flame into each lamppost as he went.
He looped around and flew down the other side, completing his task.
It turned out that combining red-gold phoenix flame with blue-burning Bunyip oil resulted in a violet flame.
Its coloration was mesmerizing—beautiful and eerie.
The phoenix landed, his talons gripping the curved metal ornamentation of the closest lamppost.
“I can’t thank you enough.” I beamed up at him.
The duties of my office. It would be great if somebody could tell me what precisely those duties were supposed to be.
Somebody who remembered what it was like when the Midnight Sovereign meant something to the realm.
“You’re old!” I cleared my throat in embarrassment.
“I mean wise. Old and wise,” I continued.
“Do you remember what happened to the Midnight Sovereign? I know my predecessors used to strike midnight bargains.”
“What was burned?” I asked, confused about how the fire related to my question.
His answer gave me pause. I realized this could be my last opportunity to ever speak to the phoenix.
If I were a wiser woman, I would have prepared a question worthy of his age and eminence.
A question of ancient history or ancient magic.
No such question came to me. Just a desperate, agonizing wish to understand my purpose.
“One last question. You called me Consort of the Moon. May I ask why?”
Fiere’s voice took on an amused tone.
“I see. Thank you for your insight.” My powers were linked to the cycles of the moon…
That made sense, given the inner peace that settled over me during the full moon.
Fiere adjusted his stance, preparing to take flight again.
“Good luck with your upcoming rebirth,” I called after him, unsure how else to wish him well.
He blinked, solemnly regarding the island.
I turned to walk back inside, Fiere disappearing into the night.
All around me, the lampposts began to flicker, dimming to a faint glow.
Disappointment crashed through me. Was the flame not stable?
It flickered again until it was barely strong enough to cut through the darkness.
A ghost of the powerful, luminescent effect that persisted while I conversed with the phoenix.
What was it going to take? I very nearly screamed.
Pacing back and forth as the lampposts slowly extinguished, I found I wanted to share my latest defeat with someone.
I found I wanted to share it with Corvin.
Abandoning the walkway, I headed back into the study.
I sat down in front of the mirror, sitting cross-legged.
Nervously, I smoothed my hair, cursing the fogged glass for having to do it sight unseen.
I was already regretting my decision to reach out to Corvin.
He was probably sound asleep in his bed.
Alone? Or would somebody be sharing his bed?
A sour feeling churned my stomach. Swiftly, I chastised myself for the thought.
That was none of my business. Regardless, I hoped I wasn’t being too rude, bothering him at night.
He had told me to call upon him whenever.
“Corvin?” I breathed into the mirror before I could lose my courage. “Can you hear me? Are you there…”
No response. I stood and turned to leave, a little bit relieved as well as disappointed.
A voice called after me. “Elvira? Is that you?”
Hastily, I returned to my spot in front of the mirror.
Just like it had the night of Kaylin’s funeral, the glass transitioned from a fogged to reflective state.
I could see Corvin clearly, as if we were separated by no distance at all.
I resisted the sudden urge to reach forward and try and touch him.
He too sat cross-legged in front of the mirror. Shirtless. My cheeks turned pink.