Phoenix

by Dawn Rae Miller

  "Lark, you don't have to do this. Really, you don't." Beck slides up behind me. "We can wait him out, make him come to us."

  I furrow my brow. "No," I say. "That's what he expects of me. It's how I always behave."

  "So we're really going to chase him across the frozen North, just so you can prove a point?"

  "The point, Beck, is that I'm trying to keep our kind - no, actually everyone - safe." My hands are on my hips. "If you're not on board, then don't come."

  He recoils slightly. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just worried we're walking into a trap."

  Ryker offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet. "Be safe," he says. "You too, Beck."

  With a flick of my hand, I cast a warming spell around Beck and me. Temperatures this time of year in Vancouver hover around negative ten. If we're worried about our warmth, we won't be able to focus on the task at hand.

  "Lark," Ryker says. "Do just like we practiced. Let Beck draw Callum out. Wait."

  "I know," I say. "I'm impatient, not stupid." But all I can think of is that I am impatient. Very impatient.

  What am I getting into?

  I hold out my hand to Beck, who has also changed into warmer clothes. His large hand dwarfs mine, making me feel somewhat safer in an odd way.

  With a quick dip of my head, and before I loose my nerve, I step and spin into the black vortex of transporting. When my foot strikes solid ground, I open my eyes slowly, woozy from the movement through space. Once I'm positive I won't tip over, I survey my surroundings. Huge cliffs line my right side and the violent ocean is to my left. Beck is no where to be seen.

  I'm on the beach where we used to play at as children. Looking now at the steep cliffs, I wonder how Beck and I ever got down here without hurting ourselves. We must have been using magic and not realizing it.

  How vulnerable Mother made me by not telling me the truth. How vulnerable all the witch children in my society will be if Callum wins.

  I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, and transport to the top of the cliffs. Beck is standing on top of the bluff, a few yards off from me. He yells something, but it's lost in the never-ending howl of the violent wind.

  To my left, the Pacific Ocean stretches before me like an untamed animal. It slams into the coastline and drags away half the beach. In the distance sits Mother's house, lit up like a thousand people are inside. Which there may well be. Beck and I have no way of knowing until we get closer.

  Doubt nibbles at me. Perhaps we should have brought Ryker or at least trained longer and harder.

  But I can't worry about that now. I need to get Callum's attention. I pace along the cliff's edge. If I'm right, there are wards around the house preventing us from getting too close. I need a way to draw him out.

  I stare at the house, pondering my options, and it hits me. I'll start a fire out here on the cliff. Someone will see it and investigate. Ryker said everyone knows what I can do with fire, so maybe Callum will understand and come himself.

  Maybe.

  If I'm lucky.

  #

  I'm not lucky.

  Callum doesn't come, instead he sends Dasha, a witch I met at Summer Hill, and another witch I don't recognize.

  "Lark." Dasha spits out my name like it tastes bad.

  "Dasha." My voice shakes more than I want it to. I want to sound fierce, instead, I barely whisper her name.

  We stand on the edge of a cliff with my back to the Pacific Ocean. Below us, the raging water crashes hard onto the rocky beach. My heart matches it in tempo - loud and rushing. Blood pounds in my ears, and a tingles work up my spine.

  It hits me hard – I'm not doing this according to plan. Beck was supposed to draw them out, and then I would pounce. Instead, I'm standing here alone while Beck improvises somewhere out-of-sight.

  We've already messed up.

  "I'm looking for my brother," I shout over the wind. "Where is he?"

  Dasha wiggles her fingers, like she's teasing me, and sparks of magic whirl at me.

  Instinctively, I dodge right and flex my hand. Before anyone has a chance to stop me, I wrap the two Light witches up in Annalise's heavy air. They are frozen mid-stride with their hands up as if to attack. All they can do is blink and stare at me.

  I walk around Dasha, tilting my head and studying her.

  "How does it feel now?" I taunt, remembering how she teased me at Summer Hill. "Eamon's dead, did you see that?" I ask. "Of course, that wasn't me, but Beck." I move in closer to Dasha's ear. "Funny how quickly things change, isn't it?"

  Dasha's eyes show rage. Good. I want her to want to hurt me. It'll make everything so much easier.

  I wave my hand and release the two Light witches. They immediately stumble backward, and I hunch down, prepared to attack.

  The nervousness and fear radiating from the two of them feeds my magic, making it more potent. I draw it deeper into myself and wait.

  Behind my back, I flick my wrists and make the waves jump closer to where we stand. One foot closer, and I'm sure I'll be able to knock Dasha and her friend off their feet. Only problem is I'll knock myself over too.

  "What are we doing, Lark? We both know what needs to happen." Dasha hurls a lethal bolt of energy toward me, but I deftly block it, sending blue and green sparks flying everywhere.

  Her magic fills me with a falling sensation. I steady myself on the windy bluff, but instead decide to transport further inland to the snowy field just beyond this barren area.

  I expect Dasha to follow and battle me in the open field. Instead, she stays out on the bluff, creeping closer to the edge.

  Where are you? I say to Beck in my mind. Why are you not here by my side?

  "Sorry," he says as he lands next to me. "You seemed to have everything under control, so I decided to check out the house. It's empty."

  "What do you mean, empty?" I keep my eyes on Dasha and the other witch. They seem to be confused as to what to do.

  "There's no one there."

  I whip my head around, making sure the woods beyond the field aren't filled with Callum and his followers.

  Dasha holds her hands at the ready and lands on the rocks, with her back to the ocean. Her friend does the same.

  I hear Mother's voice telling me not to stop. "Do it, Love. Nothing will ever be enough for Callum. He has to fall."

  It's time to get rough. Show no mercy. I need to prove to my brother that I'm not afraid of him, or his lackeys.

  I close my eyes and concentrate on the energy radiating from the two witches. It's harsh, hostile, and not at all redeemable.

  Before I lose my nerve, I flick my wrist and a wall of water slams into their backs, knocking them from their perch. I send another wave after them.

  The two witches struggle in the churning surf, being sucked farther and farther from the shore until first Dasha, then the other figure, sinks below the surface. Dasha bobs to the surface once and calls my name.

  Remorse nibbles at me, but I know better.

  A strangle cry grows in the back of my throat, and I scream.

  But despite my horror over what I've done - what I needed to do - I hear Mother's voice in my head whispering Never look back, Lark. Never look back.

  With a sharp inhale, I reach for Beck's hand.

  "You did what you needed to do, Birdie," he says, drawing soothing circles across the back of my hand.

  As the adrenaline leaves my body, I begin to shake, and Beck draws me nearer. "Let's go up to the house and regroup."

  I let him guide me up a snowy path until we reach the front door of Mother's country home. Every light is on, giving it a beautiful yellow-orange glow against the snowy backdrop. We climb the wide plank steps to the expansive front porch, and Beck swings the door open.

  "Your home, I believe?" Beck says, waiting for me to enter. He's right, this house belongs to me now. Or at least it does for the moment – I've captured it from Callum, something that is sure to upset him.

  I scurry through the door, anxiou
s to rid myself of the snow and find myself standing in the Grand Reception room. Tapestries detailing the formation of our society hang from the walls, and chairs line the perimeter. This is where Mother held court while in residence. When Beck and I were younger, this room, along with a dozen others was off limits.

  "It's impressive, isn't it?" he says calmly.

  I turn to him and study his face carefully. Despite what happened, Beck stayed calm and allowed me to do the dirty work. "How do you feel?" I ask.

  He shrugs. "Conflicted. I know you did what you had to, but it still bothers me."

  I throw my arms around him. "Beck, you didn't lash out; you didn't try to hurt them any more than what I was doing. You controlled yourself."

  My wristlet pings, as does Beck's, cutting my happy moment short.

  I glance down before pushing the button. It's a message from Annalise.

  Beck raises an eyebrow, and I laugh. "She probably wants to know if we're okay. You know how she is."

  I flash a grin at Beck and hit play.

  "San Francisco is under attack. I repeat San Francisco is under attack."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  A horrified sob builds in the back of my throat, and I wail. So this was Callum's plan - get Beck and me out of San Francisco, so he could attack. Brilliant play on his part.

  But my city and people are under attack.

  "We have to go home," I say to Beck who is scrolling through his wristlet feed, trying to read the influx of messages.

  He lifts his head. "Not yet. Not until I have a better idea of what's going on."

  "The Splinter group is attacking us! That's what's going on."

  "Read your feeds Lark, it's more than that."

  I begin scrolling rapidly, searching out the most important information. Callum seized the State department - just as I had months earlier. He's begun executions of members loyal to me.

  And in the streets, fighting is happening openly. No one knows which Light witches - and there are many of them since I implemented the evacuations - are members of the Splinter group, and which are simply Light witches. Everyone is attacking each other.

  "Ryker, Kyra, Annalise, and Maz?" I say.

  "Safe and counted for."

  "Henry and Eloise."

  Beck turns his olive eyes toward me. "It's unclear."

  My stomach drops, and I keel forward, collapsing my body onto it's self. "We have to go home."

  "We can't."

  He guides me down the hallway to the living room, where the wallscreen is kept. With a wave of his hand, he pulls it up and turns it on. Images of mass chaos fill the screen.

  "Callum out played us, Birdie. Look at all those Light witches fighting with him. The witches we invited into the City."

  Vomit sits in the back of my throat, and I gulp it down.

  No. No. I won't let my brother win. I can't. There is too much at stake.

  "I want Ryker, Annalise, Kyra, and whoever else we can reach to transport here immediately."

  Beck shakes his head. "I don't think that is wise. We'll be pulling out our strongest fighters."

  "But the baby-"

  "Will be fine. Annalise said she left Olivia with Miss Tully. Callum won't go after her there. He wouldn't think of it."

  I suck on my bottom lip. "If they can't come here, and we can't go there, what are we going to do?"

  Beck puts his arm over my shoulder. "We're going to Summer Hill."

  #

  We waste no time abandoning Mother's house. If we have any chance of beating Callum, Beck and I need to stay one step ahead of him. Which means getting to Summer Hill immediately.

  I'm so sick from the panic that transporting doesn't bother me at all. We land outside the bubble, and Beck says the spell to let us through. I notice this time, he doesn't mumble it under his breath, but rather speaks it loud and clear.

  He trusts me again.

  Once through the barrier, we run across the field toward the house. About half-way there, I see it: hundreds of tents covering the western side of the property.

  It's just like before. "Are you sure," I whisper to Beck. "Is this safe?"

  He nods. "It's our best hope. We need an army, and my parents have one."

  I don't bother asking how long he's known about this, or if he played a role in assembling the witches. In my heart, I want to believe these are evacuees who sought out protection here rather than in San Francisco.

  When we reach the front door, Beck yells, "Mom? Dad?"

  A faint popping noise comes from behind us, and I spin with my hands at the ready. But it's only Bea, Beck's younger sister. "They're outside," she says. "With the Council."

  "The Council?" I ask. "From San Francisco?"

  Bea gives me a strange look. "Of course. What other Council is there?"

  I race back toward the door. If the Council is here, then Henry and Eloise should be too. My feet fly down the stairs. Beck is at my back, chasing me across the field to the start of the tents. A few of the witches notice us, and a hushed whisper of, "It's them," surrounds us. Memories, mostly bad, of the last time I was in this position, fill my mind and I tremble slightly.

  Are you sure they're all with us? Will they follow me? I ask Beck

  I don't know if they have much choice. It's you or Callum, he answers.

  Well, that's reassuring.

  We wind in-and-out of the tent village until we come to the center of the field where the Council tent stands. Gold banners fly next to the doorway, and two of my guard stand on either side of the opening.

  "Miss Lark," says the one nearest me. "They're all inside."

  He steps back, so Beck and I can enter. When we do, all talking ceases.

  The room is a mess of tablets, people, and maps. Very detailed maps of San Francisco.

  Margo Channing is the first to speak. "Beck, Lark. You know what you two left behind don't you?" She chides us like unruly children, and my blood boils.

  I ignore her and scan the room. To my relief Henry and Eloise stand just to my right. I run to them and hug both tightly. "What happened," I demand. "How did Callum take control of everything?"

  Henry runs a hand through his dark hair and pushes up his glasses. "He knew both of you were gone, and Annalise was preoccupied. The Council couldn't hold him." My uncle takes my hand. "He's very powerful, Lark. More so than anyone ever imagined."

  "Stronger than me?" I ask.

  "Possibly. We don't know."

  Beck's hand is on my back, rubbing small circles, keeping me calm. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, growing louder and louder. I close my eyes tight and steady my breathing. Any sort of meltdown now would cause whatever precarious agreement the Light and Dark witches have to fall apart.

  "We have up-to-date conflict maps of the City, Lark," Minister Sun-Wei says. "Unfortunately, all of our intelligence is coming from unconfirmed sources."

  "Annalise and Kyra? Aren't they inside the City?"

  Sun-Wei nods. "We haven't heard from them in hours."

  "Ryker?"

  The Minister shakes his head. "He's gone off grid."

  "And the witches that are here. Where are they from?" I ask.

  "All over the Society. Both Light and Dark. We have security walking the area to ensure no outbreaks of violence occur here."

  A long sigh. This is too much to digest at once, and yet I have to. I have to show I can lead.

  I turn to Beck. Our eyes meet and for a moment, everyone around us disappears. Diplomacy, I ask.

  "It's too late for diplomacy," Beck says aloud. A few people in the room thump the table in agreement. Me? I suck on my bottom lip. We have no choice. No choice.

  "We're going to have to invade San Francisco. But doing so is going to put all of our kind at risk. The humans may not stand with us, or possibly we'll have a three-way war." As I speak the words, my vision becomes clearer. "All news feeds to San Francisco must be cut. We must get every able-bodied witch to leave Summer Hill and fight for the posses
sion of the City. Without San Francisco, we have nothing."

  Beck laces his fingers through mine, and I know that I'm right. "Then fight for the City we will."

  #

  To my surprise, there's no shortage of volunteers. Unlike my previous visit to Summer Hill, these witches don't fear me. Rather, they're looking to me for leadership.

  I guess it's like choosing the better of two evils. And in their minds, I'm less evil than Callum.

  Not exactly confidence boosting, but it's all I have for now.

  "Lark?"

  "Mmhmm."

  "Can I speak to you about what happened?" Henry asks.

  I turn my head away from the line of volunteers snaking through the tents. "What is it?"

  "In private."

  I cast one more glance at the witches willing to fight with me. Hopefully, they'll all come back, but chances are we'll lose a good number. My heart hardens. There's no time for sentimentality.

  I follow my uncle away from the tents toward the woods. The birds overhead chirp cheerfully as if all is right in the world. I bet the birds in San Francisco are all singing the song of the disheartened.

  When we're a good distance from the tents, Henry looks around as if assessing our privacy. "Okay. This is a good spot," he says motioning to a fallen log. He bends down and sits on the log and looks at me expectantly. I, however, choose to stand.

  "What is it?"

  "We haven't heard from Annalise or Kyra for several hours now."

  A lump forms in my throat. "What does that mean?"

  "Several things."

  My eyes water, and I scan the tree line, understanding why my uncle brought me out here. If I'm going to meltdown, best it be away from everyone else.

  "Tell me."

  Henry eyes me up-and-down. "Are you sure?"

  I nod my head because if I speak, I may start sobbing.

  "Callum has cut off all modes of transportation into and out of San Francisco. The humans can't get out. But more importantly, he's pulled down the grid. We can't track his - or anyone else's - whereabouts. It's possible that's all that's wrong with Kyra and Annalise. Same with Ryker." Henry pauses.