by Emma Hamm
She gave him a pointed look. “This is precisely what I was talking about. I tell you one little thing that’s different, and all you want to do is dissect me.”
“It’s healthy curiosity.”
“It’s none of your business.”
She raised a hand and waved it towards a branch in front of her. The wood charred and it turned to ashes drifting on the wind before it ever touched her skin. It was petty to use magic in front of him, but she was already incensed. He had a talent for making her angry.
Jasper brushed the branches away on his side of the tree and cursed at the fresh welts on his arms. “I wasn’t trying to pry information out of you. I am genuinely curious.”
“And why’s that?”
“I’ve never met a Phoenix before.”
“I know,” she told him. “No one has.”
“Why aren’t there any of the Phoenix kind left?”
“You’d have to ask Ignes.”
The lizard appeared on her shoulder and flicked a long tongue out at Jasper. “None of your business.”
Mercy turned her head to hide a smile. The lizard was just like her. Neither of them were quick to trust others, and this Fairy seemed to think he could insert himself into their lives. They had escaped together; that didn’t mean they were going to be best friends.
“Are you usually this stubborn when you meet new people?” Jasper asked. He rushed forward, holding a branch out of her way. She hated it when people helped her. Mercy turned the branch to ash as well, blushing furiously as she ducked past him.
She hated blushing. Her guard instantly raised, and she wondered what secrets he wanted to pry from her. “What do you want, Jasper? Do you want me to tell you a story about how everything is going to be fine?”
“I want you to tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m trying to! I told you everything you need to know.”
“You told me veiled secrets! Small bits and pieces of a larger puzzle, but nothing of substance!”
He had a point, she supposed. Mercy hadn’t talked to anyone — apart from Ignes — in a very long time, and the Phoenix lived inside of her. She didn’t have to explain things to Ignes when he could read her thoughts.
She sighed. “Fine. We’re going into Giant territory. They are extremely volatile creatures, and extremely possessive over what they consider their land. It’s dangerous. We aren’t walking into your city made of tiny cement boxes where people know what belongs to someone else. We don’t know where their lines are, or when we’re crossing them. So watch your step.”
She could almost hear his teeth grinding. “I’m going to say it again. Giants aren’t that scary.”
“These ones are.”
“They aren’t going to be that much bigger than me, and I can teleport.”
Mercy winced as she stepped on a twig. They were making good headway for all their arguing. “Let me ask you a question then, Jasper. What have been the most drastic changes to the human body that you have seen?”
“Horns,” he paused. “Lyra once mentioned a Hydra with two heads. But I still think she was embellishing a bit.”
Mercy made a humming sound. “Why do you think that plants and animals changed so much when the magic was let into our world, while humans didn’t?”
“Because we are more complex creatures. We do not change so easily. Also, the creatures are sharing our bodies. They don’t have complete control over them.”
“Sure. It could be that. Or it could be that the creatures you are seeing were already mostly humanoid to begin with.” She gestured at his body. “Look at you. You’re a man with wings. If you stood next to a real Fairy, no one would know the difference.”
“Fairies were smaller.”
“Not all of them. And who else do you know? Name the creatures.”
He grinned, playing along with her game. Fairies were always a sucker for fun. “A Siren.”
“So a human woman. Another?”
“A Dream Walker.”
“A human who is capable of walking in dreams. Not a particularly unusual looking creature.”
He arched a brow at her. “A Legion.”
Mercy stumbled and halted. “A what?”
“Legion.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up from her chest, escaping her in a twisted choke. She didn’t bother covering it up. Ignes wrapped his tail around her throat, agitated sparks crackling from his spine.
“That is—” She shook her head. “That is so wonderful. There is a Legion left in this world?”
“Its name is E.” Jasper averted his gaze and rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “It’s attached to a woman named Wren.”
“A Legion,” she repeated and chuckled. “I cannot believe it. After all this time, they managed to survive. Good for them. Or, well, good for it.”
To know that there was another rare creature still existing in this world with her was a balm to her wounded soul. She shook her head. For once, she didn’t feel as though she was the oddest duck left. A Legion.
“Why are you reacting like this?” Jasper hurried behind her.
“Legions were how we pieced together the knowledge to combine dimensions. Did you know that?”
“No.”
“They live inside other creatures. They don’t have a body of their own, I suppose if they weren’t inside someone they would simply be black smoke. They were the ones to give us the idea that since creatures lived inside a Legion, and a Legion lived inside something else, that perhaps it was possible for all of us.”
She cracked a branch off the nearest tree and tossed it over her shoulder. Jasper’s grunt made her grin stretch. Teeth bared, she glanced at him — she didn’t want to miss the irritation on his face.
He raised a brow at her. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Rare creatures stick together. A Legion surviving this long bodes well for Ignes and I.”
“So it makes you happy that they’re still alive?”
“Gives me hope. There’s more than just me who’s alone now.”
“You’re not a Phoenix. Ignes is.”
Mercy shrugged. “After two hundred years, you become the same creature, whether you combine souls or not.”
She didn’t know if her feet were going numb from abuse or if she was just getting used to it, but the forest floor wasn’t as painful as before. Mercy had a hunch that Ignes was healing her feet every now and then. But she hadn’t seen any scorch marks in her wake, so perhaps he wasn’t.
The birdsongs combined with the echoing cries of green, moss-covered monkeys were music to her ears. How many times had she wished walk freely in this forest? To explore on her own and not have it devoured every time her body needed healing?
Rustling leaves and babbling water filled her senses. It was a gift Mercy had never thought she would appreciate. She wanted to stay angry at the world for betraying her and placing her in a cage, but how could she when everything was the color of emeralds and smelled alive?
One familiar sound, however, was absent — the sound of a large man nattering in her ear. Mercy’s brow furrowed as she realized Jasper wandered from her side again.
She turned around. He was frozen in place, staring at her as though she had sprouted devil horns. She dropped a hand to her hip.
“What?” she shouted at him. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Were you aware of yourself? For two hundred years?”
“I don’t want to answer that question.” It hurt too much to answer. She didn’t want to remember her prison when she was physically so close to it.
Mercy spun away only to collide with his broad chest, smacking her forehead against his chin. Her palms hit his shoulders to balance herself. He was warm against her skin. Almost too warm.
“Were you aware?” he asked again. His arms snaked around her. She was effectively caged unless she wished to burn him. Mercy found she did not wish to hurt him.
There wasn’t much to stare at, so
she kept her gaze on his beard. “I told you already, I don’t want to answer. I will hurt you if you don’t let me go.”
“It’s not possible for a human to be aware that long. You must have slept at some point.”
“I was always sleeping.”
“Now I know you’re lying because of that haunted expression on your face.”
Mercy looked up into his piercing green eyes — they matched the leaves overhead perfectly — and hated him. His shimmering wings fractured the light into rainbows, casting them all around. “I was aware the entire time.”
“And you didn’t go insane?”
“That’s arguable.”
He glared down at her.
“Ignes,” she explained. “Phoenixes can heal any wounds. He healed my brain, my mind, my body. So I stayed alive.”
“And you can send him away whenever you want.” She hoped Jasper wasn’t piecing her story together. “That’s how you know this forest so well.”
“Ignes travels until his flames start to dwindle. On a clear day, he can travel very far. When it rains, he cannot.”
“And then?”
She raised a shoulder. “Then he would come back and show me everything he had seen.”
Jasper nodded. “That’s why you know the creatures that live in this forest.”
“They are the misfits. The oddities. The ones that don’t fit into your four walls and look human. Why do you think they tell you that the trees aren’t just trees? That these are enchanted forests, dangerous for any man or woman to walk in? They aren’t.” She raised an arm to wildly point around them. “This is just a forest. Those are just animals. These are just plants. No one wants anyone to know that magic is going to change humans into what the magical creatures originally were. Human bodies are malleable like clay. They are easily manipulated into something else.”
“Why would anyone want to hide that?” Jasper frowned as he spoke.
“Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you want it to remain hidden that in the end we are all going to end up as monsters and beasts?”
“Malachi has a Dragon working for him. The man looked fairly human.”
“Sometimes humans are too strong for creatures to change them. Other times, it’s the first human body they have possessed. It’s difficult for them to figure out how to make the form something more agreeable. The second or third try is usually more successful.”
Jasper’s mouth split into a friendly grin. “Which explains why you look human enough.”
“I don’t.” She wrested herself out of his arms. “I have strange eyes. I cannot burn. My skin can heal from any wound. I look human in form, but I can assure you, this is not a human body.”
She didn’t want to look at him. Her skin itched where he had touched, as though his fingertips had branded her. She was overwhelmed, it had been many years since she’d been touched by anyone.
Jasper held up his hands. “Okay. Okay that’s fine. If we’re going into territory that doesn’t have humans, what are we walking into?”
She swallowed. “A place unlike anything you have ever seen before.”
“The Five must know about these people, right? They are gods among us. They know everything.”
“I doubt it. They don’t care about us.”
“You should be careful what you say about them,” he warned. “They could be listening.”
“I fear no god,” she told him vehemently. “But I am afraid of humans.”
They walked in silence after that. She worried perhaps she had told him too much. Or perhaps she hadn’t said enough. He kept glancing at her as though she were a puzzle he wanted to figure out.
She wasn’t that. She wasn’t anything more than an ancient who should not exist. There were times when Mercy believed that a human mind was never meant to experience her many long years of life.
Her thoughts were bitter. Her mind twisted to darkness, anger… Madness. She did not know how to control herself, though she should have been better at it. She was so old compared to everyone else.
She had slept for centuries, but had watched the world change through Ignes’s flames. At first, she had seen it through rose-colored glasses. The evolution of animal and man had been fascinating. Beautiful. Wonderful. But then she watched them disappear.
Mercy had grown up in these woods. Back in the days when the trees were much smaller and more forgiving. She could not imagine anyone wanting to live in a city over this magical place.
She had watched the people run. The farther they went, the less of a chance she had of ever being saved. The years passed. Her tomb grew over her body, branches tangling in her hair. Still, no one had come.
That was why it was hard for her to trust, why she had embraced madness rather than understanding. She had been alone. They had left her to rot.
Her feet stomped twigs and the crunching noise echoed in her thoughts. Until there was no more sound, cool squishy moss startling her out of dark thoughts. She paused to look around them, and a humorless smile spread across her face.
“We’ll stay here tonight,” she declared.
“Why here?”
Mercy arched a brow. “Do you not know your own home?”
They stood within a wide circle of stones. A Fairy Ring. Moss covered the ground within the ring, offering a soft place to rest for the night.
Jasper looked around with a furrowed brow, likely listening to the creature in his head. Mercy found it sad that he was so withdrawn from his own lineage. Fairy was in his blood just as much as in his head. He should have known this was here long before Mercy noticed it.
Shaking her head, she stepped outside the ring and gathered as much wood as she could. Bark bit at her sensitive palms as it never would have years before. She had been imprisoned for too long. Her body had become soft, a side effect of Ignes healing too often for callouses to remain.
Arms laden with enough firewood to last them the night, she returned to see Jasper had not budged.
“Are you done talking?” Mercy snapped. “Or would you like me to continue playing housewife?”
She dropped the wood, and it hit the ground with a rumble. When he didn’t reply, she shook her head.
Muttering about the uselessness of men, Mercy built the wood into a pyramid at the center of the Fairy ring. She set aside a small stack for later fuel.
Only then did she reach for Ignes. The lizard crawled onto her hand and patiently held her thumb as she placed him at the base of the pyramid.
“Have fun,” she told him.
He began to glow white hot and set the fire ablaze.
Mercy leaned back on the moss and watched the fire dance. She hadn’t always found beauty in the yellow and gold flickers. But now, they were as important to her as breathing.
Jasper sat down hesitantly on the other side of the campfire. “Aren’t you going to get him?”
“What?”
“You left him in the fire.”
Mercy lifted a shoulder. “He’ll be happier there than on me. The flames will do him some good. Hopefully he’ll leave enough of it for a good bed of coals.”
A long strand of flame leapt towards her, curling around her ankle as though the fire had licked her. She smiled. Ignes was always so sweet.
She didn’t need to look at him to know Jasper was unnerved. He wasn’t the first. Long ago, people had the same reaction when they saw Ignes wasn’t limited by her mind. He was as tied to her as most creatures were to their humans, but their existence was a little bit different than the rest.
She didn’t have the patience to see the look of awe mixed with disgust on Jasper’s face. Not tonight. “Go to sleep, Fae. We have a long day tomorrow.”
“But who’s going to—”
“I’ll keep watch.”
“You must be tired, too. We’ve traveled so far. Wake me halfway through the night.”
She shook her head. “I’ve slept enough in the past years. I don’t wish to again. Rest.”
Instead of arguin
g, Jasper lay down on the moss and pillowed his head on his arms. She watched his chest rise and fall for a few moments before she stared back into the flames.
There was a certain serenity to a forest. Every sound around her was clear — the rustle of leaves, the soft flap of wings — and none of it frightened her. This place was meant to house a woman with a soul like hers.
It was a shame she would end up burning it down. Mercy’s dreams always turned dark, she always burned everything around her. Even now, after two hundred years of practice, controlling Ignes was like controlling a wildfire.
He was old enough to know that burning harmed others. But without the training of his parents, he had proven to be less than reliable. Pheonix required extensive schooling so they didn’t bend to a fire’s willful ways. It wanted to feast, to devour, to consume. It had no sense of right or wrong, that was the Pheonix’s job to determine.
There were days when she had awoken to discover they had hurt someone, or that they had destroyed homes and families. These were old memories, times she tried not to remember. But that didn’t dull the true fact that she had hurt people. After her long sleep, she didn’t think she could handle that again.
“Did you really mean it when you said you weren’t afraid of the gods?” Jasper’s voice pierced through her musing.
Her lips quirked up at the sides. “It was not a god who locked me up. Nor was it a god who spread rumors and fear. Those started with a single mortal man.”
He rolled onto his side. Even covered in sweat and dirt, he was handsome. There was a certain wildness to him that she appreciated. Angry red welts striped his arms, blue blood oozing on some that had split skin. He didn’t seem to notice he had been injured.
Jasper met her gaze through the flames. “So it was a person who locked you up?”
“It was many people.” She leaned forward and tossed another log into the fire. “Ignes, don’t be greedy.”
“Why did they put you in the World Tree?”
“There are prisons for criminals to spend a few years in, and there are prisons where you bury criminals in the ground and throw away the key. They didn’t want me to ever get out.”