The Phoenix Born (A Dance of Dragons #3)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  And though Jinji had told herself the mission was to search for potential riders and that was it, that she didn’t have time for anything else, the spirits came easily as she wove the carnage away, unable to stop herself from helping when she knew she could.

  The stones blocking her path lifted into the air one by one, revealing what lay beneath—bodies, carts, horses, furniture, anything and everything imaginable. The boulders disappeared. The debris vanished. To either side, houses began to rebuild themselves. The walls stood strong, the windows were unbroken, wooden doors reattached to their hinges. The bodies, bloodied and unrecognizable, were wrapped in white cloth. Jinji shifted them neatly to the side, respectful, hoping someone might eventually recognize the faces she left uncovered, hoping their souls would be properly mourned.

  With each flick of her hands, Rayfort was rebuilt. And the farther she walked, the more people began to follow. At first, they gasped and screamed, unsure what this woman with foreign skin was doing to their homes. And then they wept and thanked her when they realized she meant them no harm, when they realized she was restoring the city they loved. And after that, they walked behind her, a strange parade, watching transfixed as she used her powers to cure the devastation around them.

  The spirits were strong in her eyes. The entire world became a swirling vortex of green, blue, red, and yellow strands, weaving and spinning, glowing with jinjiajanu, the bright mother spirit. And yet she wasn't tired. Using her gifts only gave her more energy to continue. But with each passing step, Jinji grew more disheartened. Not a single person she passed was encased in the elemental spirits, not a single person was a potential dragon rider.

  By the time they reached the outermost wall of the city, a good portion of the streets had been cleared with her magic, and a good portion of the populace stared at her in awe. Janu acted like another spectator in the crowd, eyes wider than most as he watched his beloved sister become someone he didn't recognize. Jinji hated the shock in his eyes, hated how similar his expression was to the others in the crowd, to the people who viewed her as a stranger, as other. It was a harsh reminder that though they had once been two halves of the same whole, they now barely knew each other, something she hoped to remedy with time.

  "Lady Jinji," a strong voice called.

  She glanced up, finding King Whyllem at the top of the defensive wall, watching her curiously. And then her gaze dropped back to eye level, to the destination she hadn't even realized she was traveling toward—the city gate. The iron bar that once held it closed had been blown open, crushed beyond recognition. And through the broken doors, she could see that the grounds beyond the wall were blackened and charred.

  Remembering the dragon's vision, her heart winced to witness the destruction his fire had caused. The destruction Rhen had caused. And though they hadn’t spoken of it yet, Jinji didn't need to hear the words to know he hated himself for what he had done. She was supposed to be searching for riders, but if Jinji were honest with herself, her real goal may have been this all along—to clear away any evidence of the fire's destruction and to ease Rhen's heart in whatever way she could.

  "Where are you going?" Whyllem asked.

  "To offer my aid," Jinji responded, meeting his eyes. Her voice held steady, everything about her screamed authority, even in the face of the king. And considering the audience around them, the hundreds of people that had come to a stop behind her, Jinji had no choice but to remain strong—to show Rayfort she was now in charge.

  "To our enemies?" he said, taking each step down the wall slowly, never taking his gaze off of her. The sunlight glinted off of his fiery red hair, brilliant in the midday glow. He was a Son of Whyl. He was Rhen's brother. And he would hate her for what she was about to do.

  "They are not my enemies, King Whyllem."

  "The men who would kill my family, who would kill Whylrhen, the armies who nearly destroyed this city, they are not your enemies? Do you side yourself with traitors now?" Whyllem came to a halt right in front of her, wide chest towering overhead. Without looking, Jinji sensed Janu step closer.

  "I do not see traitors on the other side of the wall," Jinji said, enhancing her voice with the spirits, letting the wind carry her words over the crowd. "I see innocent people in pain. I hear the cries of the dying. I feel the heat still lingering from the flames. I sense hundreds of human beings who do not need to perish. You have won, King Whyllem. Saving those men out there will not change that. So please, let me pass."

  The crowd hushed in the silence following her words.

  The only sound was the absence of it, the collective held breath of the city.

  The wind blew overhead, a soft billow.

  In the quiet, Jinji whispered, words she ensured only the king could hear. The space around them became a bubble, impenetrable by any ears but their own. "Whyllem. You can step aside and let me pass, or I can force you aside. Either way, I will leave this city. There is nothing you can do to stop me. All you can decide is how the people of the city see it happen—at the will of their king or in spite of it."

  His eyes widened.

  Then narrowed.

  What little trust they might have ever had between them disappeared in that moment.

  "You are much changed, Lady Jinji. Far different from the meek oldworlder nipping at my brother's heels. I thought you might be good for him, good for all of us. I see now I was wrong."

  She swallowed, holding her face impassive. "Go back to the castle, Whyllem, and wait for Rhen's return. You speak without knowing the full truth, and I wouldn't want you to say anything else you might come to regret. I will meet you there when my work is done."

  And then she stared at him, waiting, hoping he would make the right decision, the easy one. A moment passed. And then a wide smile spread across his cheeks. From a distance, his expression was friendly. Up close, his eyes were steel. Still, Jinji released a breath, relaxing.

  "You are right, Lady Jinji," he called, loud enough for the people to hear. "Of course, you may pass."

  At his words, the guards acting as a blockade parted, lowering their swords and shields, leaving just enough space for one body to slide through. The king stepped to the side, and Jinji passed with Janu following behind. The guards closed the opening as soon as they stepped through, resealing the city. But it became obvious that the precaution was unnecessary the moment she crossed over to the outer edge of the wall. There were no enemies left out here. There was not a single soul the guards needed to defend against. The fields outside of the castle were a barren wasteland of ebony char.

  Jinji covered her nose against the smell and turned to Janu, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. He met her gaze as the kindhearted brother she knew he was, water pooling in his irises as well. As one, they clasped hands, each reaching to the other for strength.

  "The dragon did this?" Janu asked.

  Jinji shook her head with despair. "Rhen did this."

  And then she held her free hand before her eyes, imagining the effects of the fire gone. Beneath their feet, the grass regrew, as green as ever. The black slashes marring the pristine white walls of Rayfort faded away, leaving unblemished ivory behind. Every crack in the wall sealed, every broken stone littering the dirt disappeared. Holes were dug deep into the ground around them, and it only took one glance for Jinji to see what they were filled with—spikes and dead bodies. She refilled them with dirt, burying the dead and the defenses. The blood staining the main road into Rayfort washed away as Jinji wove. She didn't stop until the only signs of war were the many bodies resting on the ground. Most were utterly still. Some were writhing in agony.

  Jinji fell to her knees beside the closest man she could find who was still breathing and laid her palm against his cheek. He sensed her touch, cringing with pain and fear, but he could not see her with his eyes melted shut.

  "Shh," she soothed, closing her eyes and reaching deep within the spirits. The power came easily now, quickly without the shadow fighting her on the other
end. This man had no elemental affinity. He was not a potential rider, so the shadow didn't bother to give his soul a second thought. When she opened her lids, the soldier was healed beneath her fingers, peachy skin unmarred, but a haunt still darkened his gaze.

  "Who…?"

  Jinji pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I am just a friend who wants to help. I will heal every comrade of yours that I can, every man on this field. But you must do one thing for me in return."

  He nodded and raspingly replied, "Anything."

  "If any of your leaders still live, find them and send them to the castle. Let them know of the dragons, let them know of my powers, and let them know there is no place they could run that I could not find them. I intend to speak with them one way or another, and it will be much easier for them if they come willingly."

  With each word, his eyes grew wider. But in the end, he gave a gruff salute and took off at a sprint down the main road. He only paused once, turning around in time to see Jinji bend over one of his comrades and heal him too. The sight was all it took to convince him of her earnestness—at least she hoped so.

  Jinji continued to move at a slow yet constant pace across the field. For every one man she found still holding on to life, there were another ten to wrap in cloths and pile carefully to the side for identification. But she refused to stop, because every single life saved was worth the time and the energy. So she stood, walking to the next body, kneeling beside it and weaving it back to life. Over and over. Not speaking except to give orders, to tell the living to start taking care of the dead. Perhaps it was the strength in her voice, the magic she wielded, some sense of debt owed, but they all listened without complaint.

  And after hours of moving from one to the next, not thinking of anything beyond the body beneath her fingers, Jinji almost screamed when a voice broke through her concentration.

  Why bother to heal them now? You will not kill the shadow, and so they will all die, one way or another. Perhaps it would be a mercy to let them pass into the shadow world now. It will save them the pain of the phantoms doing it for you, the voice said.

  After almost a day, the spirit was back. Jinji lacked the patience to deal with her, so she kept her head down, refusing to respond, focusing on using her powers to heal.

  Don't tell me your heart is so soft you just cannot bear to witness their pain. I have felt your urge for vengeance before, have watched you kill a man with little remorse. You can't hide from me.

  Jinji remained focused on the task at hand, not giving in to the voice's goading.

  Or maybe you think this will keep the fire-user on your side. Maybe if you heal all of the people he's hurt, he won't hate you when he realizes what you've done, when he uncovers all of your lies.

  The spirits faltered in her touch, refused to weave together as her concentration broke. The man beneath her groaned in pain, clutching his side where the nearly mended burns were now regrowing on his skin, flesh melting all over again as her healing strands broke apart. He opened his mouth to scream, but the pain was so deep that even sound escaped him.

  "Shut up," she hissed.

  That got your attention, the voice answered smugly. Is that why you're healing them? Really? So the fire-user will still love you. We both know that is an impossible dream.

  Jinji sat back on her heels, looking down at the wounded man apologetically before turning her awareness inward, to the voice in her head who refused to back down. "I'm healing them because I can," Jinji whispered, not quite believing herself.

  There is only one way to ensure your prince won't abandon you and that is to kill the shadow yourself.

  "I won't," she murmured, eyes sliding to where Janu stood just fifty feet away. He had left her side a while ago and walked over to where he could be of use moving the dead onto carts, helping the men Jinji had healed with the task. But now he stood still, eyeing her strangely, as though sensing the turmoil in her mind. "I won't hurt him."

  Jinji looked away, quickly healing the man below her before the voice could respond. He woke with a gasp, body shocked by the rapid change. But Jinji had to get away. She left the soldier alone, walking over the newly grown grass to the next body she could find, the next person she could help.

  But what she saw changed everything.

  This man was not burned to death. A fresh wound had killed him—a deep slash to the throat. The blood was barely dry. And there was only one person who Jinji knew used that fatal technique. Before Jinji could stop it, a vision of Maniuk flashed before her eyes—of the knife at his throat and the deep slash the shadow had commanded he cut.

  My shadow-self has already been here, the spirit murmured, confirming Jinji's suspicions. The shadow was here, and he'd killed another potential dragon rider—a man with an elemental affinity who might have been able to wake the air or earth dragon. The shadow had beaten her yet again.

  "No," Jinji gasped, collapsing to her knees.

  Yes, the voice responded harshly. You waste your time healing people you have already condemned to death while my shadow-self continues to murder the only people who can defeat him, the riders.

  "Saving lives is not a waste of time," she whispered, feeling the back of her throat clog, tightening her breath.

  Look at the cut, barely ten minutes old. Touch it, the voice dared her.

  Against her better judgment, Jinji listened, pressing her fingertips to the wound. They came back stained with red as the barely sealed slice opened anew at her touch. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach.

  Yes, that's right. Feel guilty. If you had been searching for the riders from the start instead of saving all of these other people, this man might be alive. Another dragon might be alive. Instead, you healed the very body my shadow-self currently possesses. He is out there now, walking beside you, probably killing any other rider who might be on this field.

  Jinji stood, spinning on her heels, searching. Where was he? But all of them looked the same, men of Whylkin, bending over bodies wrapped in white cloth, moving them and carrying them, helping to bury them. The only person who stood out was Janu, watching her with brotherly concern, his dark skin so obviously different from the men around him.

  And then over Janu's shoulder, Jinji saw him.

  The shadow.

  Right behind Janu, where her brother could not see, he stood with his hip cocked, holding a knife, twirling it in his hands. Jinji didn’t need to see it any closer. She knew it was bloody without having to look, just like the shadow knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him. Eyes as white as the Gates themselves, he just winked and held one finger to his lips for silence.

  Janu turned around, following her gaze.

  Before he could see, the man collapsed to the ground. Janu ran to help him back to his feet, completely unaware of what had occurred. But Jinji knew. And she knew where the shadow had gone. Not back to Janu's body. No. That would be too easy. He was gone, off to possess a new innocent, off to find and kill more riders.

  He is taunting us, the voice grumbled.

  Jinji closed her eyes, fighting to steady her hands and her breath. "It doesn't matter. I'll find a way to save them."

  Who?

  "All of them."

  The voice laughed darkly, bitterly. You can't. Not like this.

  "I will," Jinji said. "I'll save them."

  Maybe if I leave you alone for a while you'll see. Even with all of my powers, you aren't strong enough to save them. Only one thing can...

  The spirit trailed off, but no more words needed to be said. They both knew what that one thing was—killing the shadow. Killing Janu. In a blink, the voice disappeared. Jinji felt the absence like an abyss in the back of her mind, a dark hole drawing all of her hope with it, leaving only the doubts behind.

  "I'll save them," Jinji whispered stubbornly. There had to be another way, a way that kept Janu alive, a way that ensured Rhen would still love her, a way that kept the two most important people in her life by her side. I'll
save them, she thought resolutely, moving on to the next body on the field.

  But he was already dead.

  The next one was too.

  And the third.

  "I'll save them," she repeated, voice wavering. "I'll save them."

  The world began to disappear until all Jinji heard were those three words, mumbled over and over again, a mad prayer. The spirits spun in her gaze. The field disappeared. The wall. Rayfort. The sea. The sky. The sun. All Jinji saw was one body, then the next, again and again, an endless stream. Walking on blistered feet, she healed those she could and forgot those she couldn't.

  Always there were more.

  Once the field was empty, Jinji reached the sea.

  Bodies floated among the wreckage. She used the wind and the waves to wash them ashore. And then her walk continued. Some were men of Whylkin. Some were of Ourthuro. Tanned and tattooed arms blurred with the peachy tones, they all looked the same to her. Soon enough, she only saw two faces over and over.

  Rhen.

  Janu.

  Rhen.

  Janu.

  One dead. Then the other.

  But she would save them. She would save them all.

  The sun began to set in the sky. Someone placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. Again, harder, but she used the wind to toss the comforting fingers away. Nothing would stop her work. Nothing. She had to save them all.

  "Jinji, you're scaring me."

  She ignored the words.

  "Jinji, please stop. You're bleeding. You're hurt. You've done enough for these people."

  She almost paused. Almost. But then she found herself looking over another body, and she saw Rhen's face peering through soggy, melted flesh. There was an ounce of life left in the spirits circling his soul. She had to save him.

  "Jinji…" The voice trailed off, or maybe she tuned it out. She was beyond understanding. Beyond caring. Hands gripped her bicep, strong, trying to tug her away from her work. But not stronger than her. No one was stronger than her.