The Phoenix Born (A Dance of Dragons #3)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Within ten minutes, Rhen and the boy disappeared into the horizon, flying toward the Gates. Leena and Janu stayed behind with her. Jinji dismissed the guard, sending him back to the city to locate Bran's family and bring them to the castle, reminding him that she would not respond kindly if the Lord of Fayfall gave her command any trouble.

  "What do you think about sleeping under the stars tonight?" she asked once the three of them were alone.

  Leena smiled. "I've never done it before."

  "I've missed it," Janu replied.

  "Come on," Jinji said with a grin, signaling for them to follow her. Off in the distance, she heard the unmistakable sound of crashing waves, and all she wanted to do was find the ocean. The more they walked, the more Jinji realized how much she had missed having a wild forest around her. They stepped off the road leading back to Fayfall and into the trees, carefully winding around massive trunks, through mangled bushes, over grass and dirt that hadn't yet been touched by man. In a rush, it all came back to her, the memories of her former life. The rustle of the leaves reminded her of home. The squish of earth beneath her feet, still wet from the morning dew. The chirp of birds, of insects hidden in plain sight. The freshness of the air, how crisply it filled her chest. Every bit of it felt like home.

  The tracking came back too. How to read the signals of the forest to find her way. Before long, they had reached a cliff overlooking the sea. Endless blue stretched out into the horizon. And though she could wash herself clean of the sweat and mud with one swish of her hand, she didn't. Instead, she walked right to the edge of the cliff and glanced down to take in the scene below.

  Waterfalls. That was the crashing noise filling her ears, the sound that had led her here. All along the cliffs, sprouting from cave openings buried in the earth, rivers emptied into the sea below, creating a gentle white mist all along the winding coast.

  "It's beautiful," Leena murmured next to her. "I spent most of my life locked away in a golden palace, fantasizing about the outside world. Now that I'm free, it's almost hard to believe it's real. That I won't wake to find this has all been a dream."

  Out in the distance, a blue dragon dove steeply, disappearing with barely a splash into the depths of the ocean. Jinji glanced over her shoulder, finding Janu wandering around the trees, a bundle of sticks in his arms, preparing to build a fire. She didn't bother to call out to let him know she could make one without blinking. Sometimes things were better left the old-fashioned way. Instead, she sat down, dangling her feet over the edge, amazed at her newfound bravery. Leena joined her.

  "If I fall, you'll catch me?" she asked.

  Jinji smiled. "I'll catch you."

  The princess gripped the edges of the golden gown she still wore, shuffling it up so her olive skin was bare to the sun and breeze. She closed her eyes, sighing. Happy.

  "Have you ever worn pants?" Jinji asked suddenly.

  Leena grinned, not opening her eyes. "Princesses of Ourthuro are not afforded the luxury of the free, unencumbered movement pants provide."

  "Well, dragon riders are, if they want."

  Leena opened her eyes, squinting in thought then nodded. The air around her body shimmered, glowing for a moment. And then the clothes adorning her body shifted, still the same golden silks, but now the bottom half of her body was covered in snug pants rather than a loose skirt.

  "Thanks," she murmured, running her hands over the material.

  Jinji paused, unsure of the words ready to spill from her tongue. But she felt they needed to be said. "I'm sorry," she blurted. "For before, for abandoning you in Rayfort. Rhen and I left you without a word of goodbye, in a foreign city we knew would be under attack, and I feel horribly guilty for not taking you with us. But the king ordered us not to, and at the time, I had no idea I was strong enough to defy him."

  Jinji wasn't sure what response she was expecting, but it definitely wasn't a loud, bursting laugh. Leena looked at her, smiling broadly with mirth filling her dark eyes, still as mysterious as the first time they had met. "I don't blame you. The king gave me the option of leaving too, but I chose to stay." She paused, thinking, gaze focused on a spot beyond the horizon. "I've come to realize something these past few weeks—life is always changing, and I feel as though I'm just along for the ride. You and Whylrhen saved me by giving me the courage to break free of my father's hold. And you saved me again by giving me my dragon. Just as fate has been guiding my decisions, it has been guiding yours. And if you hadn't left me, Rhen might never have found the dragon, you might never have found your brother, and we might never have found ourselves sitting here."

  "That's a good way of looking at things," Jinji said, impressed.

  Leena just shrugged, relaxing and losing her royal composure the more they spoke. "I have to believe that everything happens for a reason, that the hardships we've all endured served a purpose. Otherwise, what would be the point?"

  What would be the point? Jinji repeated to herself. If she hadn't lost her family, she would have never met Rhen. If she had never met Rhen, she wouldn't have awoken the spirit, would never have discovered her destiny or the dragons or the powers she now wielded. And if none of that happened, who would be around to fight the shadow?

  Jinji sighed.

  But what was the point if Janu was the shadow? What was the point of suffering so much, of fighting so hard, if in the end she was helpless to finish the job? If fate were guiding her, it would have to do a better job. Because right now, she was utterly lost on where her next steps should lead.

  Jinji fell back against the grass, turning away from the view of the water and looking up at the clouds floating overhead instead. When they were little, she and Janu used to search for shapes in those white puffs. Rabbits. Leaves. Fish. Deer. They could spend hours just like this, resting on their backs, staring up at the sky, filling it with endless imaginative possibilities. What did she see now? Dragons. Phantoms. Doom.

  Jinji turned to the side as Leena fell back beside her, turning her face to the sky, welcoming the kiss of the sun. "What do you see when you look at the clouds, Leena?"

  "A face," she whispered.

  "Of the man you lost?" Jinji asked quietly.

  The princess nodded slowly, gaze still locked above. "Sometimes him, sometimes I imagine it's my mother."

  At the word mother, Jinji's eyes widened, recalling what she'd discovered when she healed the princess the day before. "Leena!" she gasped. The princess twisted her head quickly in Jinji's direction, curious what had changed her tone so much. Jinji took a breath, calming her suddenly racing pulse before continuing. "Leena, you, when I healed you, I noticed something I'm not sure you know, but you, you're—"

  "I'm with child?" she asked. A small smile graced her lips. "I know. I wasn't going to tell anyone, not until the future was more certain, not until this shadow was defeated."

  "I won't tell," Jinji reassured, grinning alongside the princess, bonded more by the new secret they shared. "Do you want to know what it is?"

  Leena exhaled sharply. "You know?"

  Jinji nodded, biting her lips to keep the words from escaping just in case they were unwanted. But Leena widened her eyes, excitement palpable. "It's a girl."

  "A girl?" Leena sighed, closing her eyes tightly, opening them again, and looking to the sky. Her hands came to rest on her stomach, caressing it gently. "Mikza always said he wanted a girl. A son too, eventually. But he said first, he wanted a daughter, a stubborn little thing who would give me a taste of my own medicine." She swallowed, dark eyes growing darker.

  Jinji reached out, resting her palm gently on Leena's arm. Mikzahooq—she remembered him. The Ourthuri who had been kind to her on that journey to Da'astiku, which seemed so long ago. The Ourthuri whose face she had borrowed to sneak into the golden palace to save Rhen, the only reason she and Leena had ever met. And Jinji remembered something else, that King Razzaq had mercilessly killed him for the sole crime of falling in love with a princess. If Jinji closed her eyes, she co
uld still picture Leena's tear-stained cheeks the first time they had met, the pain and suffering that filled her eyes. It was that sense of mutual loss that had brought them together and established a mutual trust.

  "She's going to be beautiful," Jinji murmured soothingly.

  Leena nodded, sniffing slightly. "I hope she has his eyes."

  "She has your fight," Jinji said. Leena rolled her face to the side, meeting Jinji's gaze. "I felt it when I healed you both. She's a survivor like you."

  "She'll have to be."

  The princess's tone was ominous. Jinji pinched her brows, probing. "Why?"

  "When this war is over, my troubles won't be. I need to go home, to stand up to my father, to help my people. Ourthuro is long overdue for a change, and I plan to be the catalyst of that change. The people are ready for it, I'm sure. But the ruling class, they'll resist any attempt to lessen their power. I'm not naïve enough to think it will be easy, not anymore, but I also know I can't walk away, can't abandon them. And my daughter will inherit that legacy."

  "She'll be proud to."

  Leena licked her lips, sitting up quickly, letting out a deep breath. "I hope so."

  And then a screeching cry pierced the air. Jinji sat up in time to see the water dragon emerge from the sea, eyes locked on Leena, sensing her rider's inner turmoil.

  "Go," Jinji encouraged, catching Leena's questioning glance. "Fly."

  A moment later, Leena jumped from the cliff, freefalling for just a moment before the dragon swooped in beneath her, catching her softly. They were one, it was clear to see, completely attuned to each other. The princess landed smoothly, in perfect position on her dragon's back. Together, they dove, sinking below the mist and plunging into the cool surface of the sea. They disappeared below the blue.

  Jinji watched for a few moments longer, wondering if they would resurface anytime soon. But the water remained unbroken. Leena and her dragon were gone, at least for a little while, and a twinge of jealousy pierced Jinji's stomach. Why couldn't she fly away, escape her troubles for an hour or two, get lost in an adrenaline-fueled thrill, and forget her tumultuous thoughts? Why did everyone else get a dragon besides her?

  Enough pity, she thought, sighing. That kind of thinking would get her nowhere. So she stood, searching for Janu and finding him settled on the grass tending to a gentle flame, coaxing it to grow.

  "Do you want to pretend with me for a little while?" Jinji asked.

  He blew on the fire, flaring it higher as he placed a few more sticks around the blaze. "Pretend what?"

  Jinji glanced at the clearing around them, realizing she had other tricks at her disposal, other ways to escape. "Pretend that we're little again, that Mother and Father will be here any moment telling us to go to sleep, that nothing has changed."

  Janu lost his smile. "How can we do that?"

  Jinji shrugged, not really sure herself. And then she closed her eyes, imagining it. Behind closed lids, she saw the hut from her childhood, the one she had lived in for most of her life. Every detail came back as though she had never left, the worn grass in the center, the little pallet in the corner where she slept, the larger one on the opposite side where her parents rested. A fire burned in the middle of the hut, keeping them all warm during the long, cold nights. A hole opened to the sky above, and on clear evenings, she could see stars from her bed.

  Jinji didn't look at Janu when she opened her eyes. Instead, she walked forward and crawled into the bed she had just re-created from memory. A few moments later, Janu joined her. Their clothes changed from newworlder garb to the soft tan hides she never thought she would wear again, cozy and warm, just as she remembered.

  "I never thought I would see home again," Janu murmured, voice thick.

  "It doesn't exist anymore," she whispered, swallowing the memory of that fateful day back down. "I burned it to the ground."

  "That's not why it doesn't exist anymore."

  Jinji looked at Janu, held his gaze. And in that instant, she knew—her brother was haunted. There was no other way to describe it. He remembered. He had been there with the shadow. He had seen the massacre.

  "I killed them," he murmured, voice cracked and scratchy, utterly raw.

  Jinji clasped his hand, shaking her head. "Not you, Janu. Never you."

  He closed his eyes tight, unable to stop the tears from leaking through. Jinji watched, feeling her own lips wobble, her throat close. "I was there, Jinji. Maybe not in body, but the voice, he showed me, he made me relive every moment. I remember that day as if my own hands wielded the weapons. I held the knife that slit their throats. I won't ever forget how easily the sharp edge sunk into their skin, how little pressure it took to slide the blade, silently ending their lives. And," he stopped talking, trembling as his whole body began to shake. "And I can see you, Jinji, with Leoa's body immobile and bloody by your feet. I see your face in my dreams. I can't escape the utter horror that filled your eyes as you backed away from me, terrified, and inconsolably lost."

  "It wasn't you," Jinji urged, trying her best to convince them both. But her gut pinched, unable to ignore the truth. The shadow was Janu. Janu was the shadow. A fact she couldn't escape, couldn't change no matter how hard she tried.

  "It may as well have been because I could do nothing to stop it." Janu shifted on the pallet, lying on his back, staring up at the little hole opening to the sky. "He's so strong, Jinji, you have no idea. I try to fight him, to stop him from taking control, but I can't. And the more I try, the easier it seems for him to push me aside."

  Jinji squeezed his fingers, forcing him to look at her. "You're stronger than you know, Janu. You still have yourself, have your mind and your memories. You haven't let him drive you mad, you haven't lost your soul, you haven't let him take it from you."

  He returned her hard grip. "The hope of seeing you again, of knowing you had survived, of knowing we might be together—that hope is the only thing that kept me alive. You made me stronger, you always have."

  Jinji swallowed, biting back the confession. She could never tell Janu her secret—that the shadow was a part of him, that their souls were connected, that she didn't have the strength to kill the shadow if it meant killing Janu as well. At this very moment, the shadow could be in another person's body, murdering an innocent soul while she sat idle, taking no action against him. No—Jinji wasn't nearly as strong as Janu thought she was. And if her brother knew the truth, he would see how weak she really was.

  "Do you know what day it is?" she asked instead, changing the subject before the guilt had a chance to overwhelm her.

  Janu scrunched his brows, unsure.

  "Sanjiju," Jinji whispered. Janu's eyes lit with understanding. He remembered the customs of their people just as she did. Some things could never be forgotten. Sanjiju, the most beloved and sacred festival of the Arpapajo people. The day they celebrated the spirits in prayer and dance, the day they remembered all of those who had passed, who were now one with the earth, alive within jinjiajanu, the mother spirit. The day they welcomed spring, a time for renewal and regrowth.

  She and Janu had only partaken in the ceremony once together. But for nearly a decade, Jinji had danced the steps in his memory, in his honor.

  "Has winter passed so quickly?" Janu asked.

  "The cold months were short this year," Jinji said, taking his hand. "Barely any snow. The warmth of spring came early, but I am certain today is Sanjiju. The stars are aligned."

  "We didn't fast," he murmured.

  Jinji smiled. "They'll forgive us this once, I think." And then she pulled him to his feet. "Do you remember the steps?"

  "I could never forget them, not after Mother made us take so many lessons. My feet still bleed."

  "Mine too," she whispered.

  In a flash, the hut around them disappeared. The prayer steps of Sanjiju must be performed outside for the spirits to witness. The songs had to lift into the sky, to be carried across the land by the breeze. The steps had to pound into the earth, so
the grass and dirt could feel the beat. The sweat of their movements had to rain against the ground, fertilizing the new spring. The only thing that was missing was the eternal fire, the one that represented the heart of her people, the one Jinji had used to burn her home to the ground, and the one Rhen had later snuffed out, not realizing what it meant. But Janu had built a fire for them for the night, and small as it was, it would do for now.

  "Come." Jinji led him to the center of the clearing.

  The dance of Sanjiju always started with the tribe in a circle around the fire, holding hands, everyone connected, everyone as one. Each ember rising in the wind and each speck of ash represented a new spirit joining the celebration, safe to rejoin the tribe for the night, welcome within the confines of the ring, reunited with their people once more.

  Jinji and Janu held each other's hands. The circle was small, but it was there. And as though sensing their presence, a swift breeze billowed in, flaring the fire high, sending an explosion of sparks into the sky, glittering the air around them. Taking it as a sign, Jinji and Janu started to sing. As natural as breathing, their feet began to shift, to stomp and pound, to twist and twirl. Their hands clapped against each other, against their thighs, their hearts. Their bodies created a rhythm, and their voices continued the song. Neither missed a single beat nor a single note.

  Jinji and Janu danced for their people.

  For one night, as twilight started to settle in, turning the sky a soft lavender, the Arpapajo people were reborn.

  Jinji got her wish.

  She pretended, at least for a little while, that nothing had changed.

  8

  RHEN

  ~ FAYFALL ~

  Rhen heard Jinji before he saw her. He listened to her voice rise in gentle song over the tops of the trees, settling over the forest like a mystical blanket. The words were foreign, but the notes of joy and loss were universal, cocooning him in warm nostalgia. Somehow, it brought him back to a time before he'd met her, back to the Rhen he used to be, gallivanting around the kingdom and wishing to prove himself to his family, wishing to show them his worth.