The Phoenix Charm

by Helen Scott Taylor

  He circled again, noting the reaction of the councilors. The three seers nodded along with one of the huntsmen. The gatekeepers stared at him suspiciously. Master Devin smiled.

  “Do you also agree that you wish the forfeit to be paid by one of the pisky king’s blood?”

  “Are you proposing you will pay?” Arian retorted, before Michael had time to make his point. “You had that option in Cornwall. As I’ve already borne witness, you refused to take responsibility.”

  Michael clenched his jaw as the councilors shuffled their feet, looking annoyed.

  “That is my proposition, but if—”

  Arian slashed his hand through the air. “It will take more than a drop of blood to appease the king now.” He rose, his head angled arrogantly. “We’re wasting our time here. This appeal is over.”

  The djinn surged to his feet and took a step forward. “You will regain your seat and hear the plaintiff make his case.” His softly spoken words fell across the chamber like twilight shadows. Michael shivered and caught Cordelia’s elbow when she whimpered and swayed. He couldn’t determine if Master Devin had used glamour or something akin to silver tongue. He guessed the brush of horror they’d felt was only the fallout from what Devin had projected into Arian’s mind.

  Arian plopped back into his seat like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Glassy-eyed, he stared at Master Devin.

  “Master Devin,” Mawgan spoke softly, a plea in his voice. “Please take your seat.”

  The djinn held eye contact with Arian for a few seconds longer, then stepped back and sat.

  “And may I remind you…” The seer’s words trailed away when Devin turned his gaze on him.

  “No magic or demonstration of power,” Devin stated. “I know.”

  Nightshade chuckled. “Devin will back us this time.”

  Michael snatched a breath, his head light with nervousness.

  “Continue,” Mawgan said, looking at Michael.

  “Me one goal in coming here is to win the release of the pisky king’s son. To that end, I offer meself in exchange for the boy. Free Finian from the Underworld, and I will take his place.”

  One of the seers frowned. “How do you propose we place you in the Underworld, mortal? This is not possible.”

  “Oh yes it is,” Devin said flatly.

  Mawgan shook his head. “We can’t accept a solution that requires we take a life. Who among us here could kill an innocent man in cold blood?”

  Arian rose slowly, steadying himself against the pillar beside his seat. “I will.”

  Silence fell. Michael heard his own breath rushing in and out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw tears running down Cordelia’s cheeks. He locked his muscles and turned away.

  “This upholds the blood price while releasing the child,” Devin offered, his voice deep and penetrating. “I say we vote.”

  “No.” Mawgan shook his head firmly. “This is not what we’re here for.”

  “It’s exactly what we’re here for,” Devin countered. “We resolve disputes. We free those taken in an untimely way, and we punish those who’ve shirked responsibility for their actions. On those grounds, the plaintiff has given us just cause to accept his plea. I say we vote.”

  “I second,” Arian put it, his voice slicing through the air of indecision.

  Mawgan rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. We vote on the plaintiff’s appeal. Do we accept him as blood price in exchange for the pisky child? All in favor stand.”

  A band of steel tightened around Michael’s ribs, crushing his lungs. His heart shouted yes; vote yes. His mind shrank, ashamed, half hoping they’d vote no and not put him to the test.

  Arian straightened where he stood. Dai and Olwyn rose to join him. Devin stood, slowly, his unwavering gaze fixed on Michael. The two huntsmen both looked at Devin and followed his lead. Mawgan shook his head and whispered to himself while he stared at his lap. One of the seers remained seated, but after a few seconds, the other rose to his feet. Mawgan cried out in distress and covered his eyes.

  “The verdict is decided,” Devin said. He placed a hand over his heart and spokes oftly to himself. With a final glance at Michael, the djinn turned and left the chamber.

  “When shall we do this thing?” asked the seer who’d risen in favor, looking at Arian.

  “Now.” Michael heard his own voice ring out, as if it belonged to someone else. “The child must be released immediately.” Troy had said the light cocoon protecting Fin was good for five days, but Michael wanted the lad released as soon as possible.

  Arian descended the steps from the gallery, then came down the final five to stand in the plaintiff’s pit before Michael. “So you take responsibility for your brother’s failings.”

  Was that what he was doing? Dying for his brother? When all along he’d thought he was striving to rescue a helpless child. Would Niall appreciate his sacrifice? Would Troy finally think him worthy?

  The endeavor had felt urgent and secretly noble. A hollowness yawned inside him. He’d been tricked into giving up everything, because now the time to prove himself was here, he didn’t believe he would rise from the dead.

  Whatever Troy thought, Michael was sure he was not like his father.

  “Leave the chamber while we prepare.” Arian pointed at the door, surprisingly subdued and thoughtful in the face of what seemed like a victory for him.

  The unreality of the situation danced in Nightshade’s mind. Had he really met his baby brother a scant hour past? Was Michael really going to stand passively and let Arian deliver a fatal blow?

  Michael stared at the wall as though he hadn’t heard Arian speak. Tears trickled down Cordelia’s cheeks, and she wiped them on her sleeve.

  “Come.” Nightshade gripped Michael’s arm and led him toward the steps. Cordelia followed, her hand in her cat bag obviously seeking comfort from the creature.

  When they reached the top of the steps, Devin strode back through the door and halted before them. He’d changed into a long black coat decorated with purple symbols.

  “Come with me.” Devin glanced at Michael, then looked to Nightshade for a response. The stalker nodded.

  Michael pulled his arm from Nightshade’s grip and rubbed his face. “Where would you be taking us, Master Devin?”

  “To prepare.” Devin made eye contact with Michael. They assessed each other for a few seconds; then Michael nodded.

  Twenty yards along the corridor, Devin ushered them into his bedchamber. When they had all passed through the door, he turned the key in the lock, and indicated they should sit.

  He supplied them with glasses of spicy honey wine, then turned to Michael. “Where’s the dagger?”

  “Did Gwyn tell you about the dagger?” Michael asked, frowning.

  “Troy spoke to me, but we don’t have time for an inquisition. Just be aware I’m on your side. What I tell you now is vital to your safety.”

  Michael hitched up one leg of his jeans and pulled Troy’s dagger from its sheath.

  When Devin took the blade, he cradled it lovingly like a long-lost treasure and stroked the huge egg-shaped gem. He tested the cutting edges and clucked his tongue. “You didn’t think to hone the knife?”

  “I’d no idea what it would be used for.”

  The djinn carried the blade to a table in the corner of his room and sharpened the knife on a whetstone. The grinding sound filled the chamber, stifling conversation, although none of them seemed inclined to talk.

  Cordelia took Michael’s hand. The sight did not hurt Nightshade as much as it would have a few days ago.

  When he’d finished, Devin returned to them and placed the dagger on a table. “Listen carefully, Michael, ya akby, my brother. You will die and enter the Underworld for good reason, which is as it should be. But you also need a good reason to return to life. Once you enter the Underworld, time passes differently. In a short time, the people you know here will seem like distant memories.”

  Cordelia’s hand ti
ghtened on Michael’s and he glanced at her. Nightshade squeezed Michael’s shoulder, willing to share him if he must, but not to be forgotten.

  “You need a strong tie to life.” Devin paused, let his gaze travel over them all. “You need to bond with someone through your Magic Knot so you are joined in mind, body, and spirit with a living being.”

  Nightshade’s hand clenched reflexively on Michael’s shoulder, and Cordelia gasped.

  “This is essential, Michael. You must choose either the wise woman or the nightstalker to be your mortal anchor.”

  Michael dropped his head into his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said without looking up. “When we set out, I’d no idea of the commitment I was asking from you two.”

  “You don’t have long to make your choice.” Devin stood and knocked back his drink. Then he grabbed a long black sash from the back of a chair and draped it over his shoulder. “I’ll leave you to decide. Be ready when I return.”

  He strode to the do or and shut it quietly behind him.

  “Ruddy Badba.” Michael massaged his temples.

  A few hours earlier, Nightshade would have fought for the chance to exchange Magic Knots with Michael and enhance their blood bond. Yet after meeting Rhys, his priorities had changed.

  Before Michael had a chance to reject him in favor of Cordelia, as he obviously would, Nightshade crouched at Michael’s side and gripped his arm. He ached to tell Michael about his baby brother, share the news that blazed inside him, burning away the loneliness he’d borne all his life. But he could not burden Michael with the knowledge of Rhys’s plight when his friend was about to face the biggest challenge of his life.

  Cordelia wandered to the bed and stroked her sleeping cat, giving Nightshade privacy to speak. “You are dear to me, Michael. I’m closer to you than I’ve ever been to anyone else. But I cannot exchange Knots with you.”

  Michael raised his head from his hands, scanning Nightshade’s face.

  “When I bond mind, body, and spirit,” Nightshade continued, “it must be with a woman.”

  “Aye. ’Tis how I feel as well.” Relief swam in Michael’s eyes, softened his voice.

  Nightshade smiled, sadness welling inside him for a love lost that he realized he’d only ever possessed in his imagination. “I want a babe.” The words were little more than a whisper, his throat tight with memories of holding Rhys. “My own babe to hold in my arms. For that I need a female.”

  Michael smiled and shook his head. “Crikey O’Reilly, you’re full o’surprises. I did not take you for a paternal sort of fella.”

  “Neither did I.” Nightshade held Michael’s face between his hands and before Michael could turn away, he kissed him hard on the lips.

  Blinking, Michael rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth.

  “Come back to us, bard.” Nightshade swallowed, shocked at the tightness of tears in his throat. Jumping to his feet, he spun away and paced to the door. He held his wings rigid against his body and turned, hand clutching the door handle. “Good luck to you both.” His gaze flicked to Cordelia, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, her glass of honey wine frozen halfway to her mouth.

  Nightshade closed the door softly behind him and headed back to the laundry room for a few minutes with Rhys before he returned to the council chamber.

  Cordelia sat rigidly beside Tamsy. The spicy gulp of honey wine she’d just taken scraped down her throat like a sharp stone. Nightshade closed the door behind him, leaving her alone with Michael in Devin’s ornate room. She had expected Nightshade to argue for the right to exchange Magic Knots with Michael. Her plan had been to back down graciously Giving up her chance of being with Michael would hurt, but there were too many reasons why she couldn’t bond with him.

  He stood slowly as if the movement pained him, stretching back his shoulders with a groan. “I’m sorry, lass. I never intended things to work out this way.” He laughed sadly, a touch of his old humor on his face. “I never intended to give up me life so soon.”

  “You’ll come back to life, Michael.” She put down her cup and took a few steps toward him. The realization of how important she would be to his survival made her tremble. “I’ll call you back.”

  He rubbed his face. “Much as I want to believe I’ve taken after me father, I can’t imagine how this will work. If me body is mortally wounded, how will I repair it?”

  She wanted to reassure him, but she had no idea how anyone could die and return to life. “If you believe…” Her words trailed away at the skeptical glint in his eyes. How could she convince him of something she didn’t believe herself?

  “If you don’t want to do this, I’ll understand. ’Tis a lot to ask of you.” He walked toward her.

  She trembled as though her insides had been scooped out and replaced with jelly. She wanted him, yet the consequences of his discovering her water nymph nature terrified her.

  “I never thought I’d bond with anyone. ’Twas not in me life plan.” He gave a rueful laugh.

  “Neither did I.” Her grandmother had forbidden her to bond with a man and shame her father by revealing her true nature. Self-consciously, she pushed stray wisps of hair back from her face. Although Michael had dominated her senses since the day he walked into Trevelion Manor, until the last few days, he’d never given any indication that he found her attractive. Yet if he survived today, he would be intimately tied to her for the rest of his life. He could never undo the lover’s bond forged when they exchanged Magic Knots, even if he fell in love with someone else.

  He touched a finger beneath her chin and raised her face to look at him. “What are you thinking, lass?”

  “How do you sense me, Michael?”

  Little creases formed between his perfect eyebrows. “Here.” He placed his hand over his solar plexus. “You’re a swirly sensation. I suppose that’s your water elemental nature.”

  His tone sounded only mildly curious. She tried to look away but he held her chin firmly between finger and thumb. “Why does me sense of you matter, lass?”

  She couldn’t admit she felt his psychic presence so strongly, he drowned out everyone else. She quickly changed the subject.

  “There’s something I need to tell you. I’m not sure how it might affect my ability to call you back.” She pulled the silver chain out of her polo neck and let the single translucent stone ring fall against her chest.

  His brows drew together. “Are your mind, body, and spirit combined in a single ring?”

  “No. This is the body ring from my Magic Knot.”

  “Then where—”

  Cordelia glanced over her shoulder at her precious cat curled asleep on Devin’s bed, oblivious to her part in all this. “Tamsy holds my mind and spirit rings.”

  “You’re bonded to a cat?” He stared at Tamsy, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

  “She’s my familiar. When I was twelve, my grandmother bonded me to her so Tamsy could help me with my work.” And so Cordelia would never be tempted to bond with a man.

  He stared over her head, eyes unfocused, and drew a slow breath. Then he lowered his gaze to her face and gave a sad smile. “If you’re willing to accept my Magic Knot, maybe that will be enough to help me find my way back to you.”

  She closed her eyes, a maelstrom of mixed emotions churning inside. Part of her raged at her grandmother for taking her mind and spirit stones, thus hindering her ability to help Michael. Another part of her was terrified that when he discovered she was a water nymph, his attitude toward her would change. Nymphos were nothing more than a lascivious joke to most males. And how would she control her allure if he tried to kiss her and touch her?

  Yet whatever the personal consequences, she must help him find his way back from the Underworld. She opened her eyes and met his troubled gaze. “I’ll be your anchor in the mortal world to bring you back from death, but that’s all, Michael. We can’t be handfasted like man and wife.”

  “You mean no intimacy. Why?”

  She looked away and c
hewed her lip. He’d find out soon enough. Why not just tell him?

  “Cordelia, sugarplum.” He curved gentle fingers around her cheek. “If you’re worried I’ll stray and embarrass you, lass, forget your fears. I’m sure we can keep each other happy.”

  “I’m not worried about you, it’s me.” She swallowed back tears, hating that she had given him another thing to worry about.

  “We can talk over the relationship if I come back. If I don’t, ’twill be the shortest bonding ever.”

  “You will come back.” The possibility of losing him forever seared her heart, eclipsed all other worries. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her face against his neck.

  He returned her hug, his lips brushing her forehead. His fingers stroked her jaw, lifted her chin. Gently, his lips slid over hers. Michael kissed her with a gentle intensity as though she was precious.

  She hung in his embrace, her lips moving beneath the silky warmth of his mouth, her muscles limp with desire as he molded her to his hard body. After a few minutes, he drew back with a groan. “Ah, Cordelia, I want to carry you over to the bed and lose meself in you, but we have no time. Are you ready to exchange Knots?”

  She nodded. He pulled out a leather thong bearing his three earthy-brown linked stone rings, drew it over his head and looped it around her neck. His Magic Knot settled against her chest, separated from her skin by her sweater.

  Pulse racing, she unfastened the silver chain holding her single stone ring, hesitated, then lowered it into his hand. Her breath froze, waiting. Nothing happened.

  “Put me Knot against your skin.”

  With trembling fingers, she dropped his Magic Knot inside her sweater to settle in the valley between her breasts.

  He took her hand and stared into her eyes, his so blue and deep, the shimmer of expectation sending whispers of sensation up and down her spine.

  The hot beat of his presence in her chest expanded, flooded her body with heat, flashed along her veins and nerves. He caught her against him. Pressed his lips to her cheek. Then the full force of his power hit her like a truck. Her head pounded, heart thumped, nerves screamed. Her legs folded, her body pumped so full of his energy she felt as though she’d burst.