The Phoenix Born (A Dance of Dragons #3)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Though it felt like hours, the battle lasted only a few minutes. The phantoms began to fade. And deep in his soul, Rhen shuddered with the desolate stillness. No more pain filtered up from the town. No more movement. Nothing was there. No one was there. The ebony mist thinned, blowing away in the breeze, disappearing as though it never even existed.

  And in its wake, there was silence.

  Utter and absolute quiet.

  The flap of Firestorm's wings was deafeningly loud in Rhen's ears as they sank down to the streets of Brython. Rhen stumbled from his dragon's back, feet barely able to carry him over the stone roads littered with bodies. He shook them. Placed his ear to their chests. Tried to blow air into their foamy mouths.

  But they were gone.

  Everyone.

  The men. The women. Even the innocent children. Not a soul had survived.

  Eventually Rhen fell, tripping over his own feet as his eyes grew bleary. Landing hard on his knees, he had no will to stand. Instead he shifted back, staring at the sky, and did the only thing he could.

  He screamed.

  Two other wails filled the air around him.

  Leena and Bran.

  The riders, crying out as one in the face of their failure.

  9

  JINJI

  ~ BRYTHON ~

  Jinji heard the screams. How could she not? They pierced like a sword drilling straight through her heart.

  Her riders were weeping.

  Her dragons were weeping.

  Rhen was weeping.

  But it wasn't their fault. No. This destruction was on her shoulders and hers alone. And Jinji was crushed beneath the weight. She fell to the ground, crawling toward the edge of the castle's ledge where she had watched the battle rage. Her eyes roamed the streets below—so still but not empty. They were horrifyingly full of the dead.

  "Search for survivors," she whispered, barely more than a soft croak. But they heard her. The dragons connected them all, and the spirit that lived within her was the center of that connection. "The rest deserve a proper farewell. Whatever the custom is for this region, we will do it."

  And then she cut the bond, sealing off the connection the battle had prompted, closing it tight so none of the riders could hear her beg. "Why didn't you help me?"

  But there was no response.

  "Please, I must know," Jinji pleaded, ignoring the tears as they fell in a fast current down her cheeks. "Please, if this happens again… Please."

  But the voice remained utterly silent.

  "I don't know how to save them. Not without you, not alone. If this happens again, I can't just watch silently from the sidelines, unable to help. All of my magic did nothing. The dragons did nothing. Please, you have to tell me what to do, how to fight. I know you know. I know."

  Nothing.

  "Tell me!" Jinji screamed, but with her throat so hoarse, it came out as barely anything. She tried again. "Do you want them to die?"

  I want you to remember this feeling, the voice finally responded, tone thick and hard, accusing.

  "I will never forget it," Jinji mumbled.

  And yet, you still won't act against him.

  The voice didn’t need to clarify. And Jinji didn't bother to look at her brother. She couldn't meet his eyes, not yet, not knowing whom she would find within them. "No."

  So why bother to learn how to fight the phantoms? Why even try when you condemn the whole world to this fate either way?

  Jinji didn't have an answer. So all she said was, "Please."

  The voice didn't say anything. Jinji could feel the spirit thinking in the back of her mind, debating the options. But in the end, she relented, just as Jinji knew she would. No matter what, she wouldn't allow the world she created to crumble around her without a fight.

  You can't fight them as phantoms. As the mist, they are indestructible, not even the dragons can stop them. You must remember what they truly are—lost souls, searching for a way back to earth. They are confused. Most don't have any idea what they do, they just go where my shadow-self leads them, believing it is the start of their next life.

  The reason their touch is deadly is because one body cannot have two souls. You know well enough that it rips the mind in two, but my shadow-self and I can do things that other souls cannot. The phantom's touch creates a connection, binding the ghost to the living body. For a short time, the body has two souls, and because of that, it self-destructs. In attempting to fight off the intruder, it destroys itself as well. Only people with elemental affinities can survive the touch of the phantoms because their souls are connected to mine, making their bodies strong enough to withstand the fight.

  Jinji shook her head, watching as her three riders wandered aimlessly around the streets below, finding not a single living soul within the devastation. They began to pile the dead, using the dragons to lift them to a spot in the center of the town. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight. "I don't understand," she whispered.

  The voice sighed heavily in the back of her mind.

  The only way to fight the phantoms is to give them empty bodies to inhabit and then to kill them all over again. You can weave the empty shells, and when the phantoms touch those bodies, they will be drawn in. Once that connection is made, the dragons can destroy them because they will be back in human form. But the cycle is never-ending. You bring the phantoms back to life for a moment, and then you send them straight back to the shadow realm where my shadow-self can then call them forth to the mist again. And it will repeat, on and on and on.

  "And why can't we just bring them back to life, and then that's it, we don't kill them?"

  It doesn't work like that. They remember too much of their previous lives. They would be mad, crazed, not human—not really. There is a process my shadow-self must use when he fuses a soul from his realm to a newly created baby in mine, a process he skips when he calls forth the mist.

  "So that is it, we fight in circles until one side tires of the game?" Jinji asked, voice growing angry. The walls surrounding her were closing in, caging her in. Every option she thought she had was slowly fading away, disappearing before her eyes.

  We've been doing it for thousands of years, and my shadow-self has shown no sign of stopping. But I've grown tired. I am tired. You know the options. You know what you must do. I'm letting you play now.

  And then the voice was gone.

  But Jinji just shook her head, unable to open her eyes, unable to just drop the conversation. Because the spirit was wrong. And Jinji didn't understand how she could be so blind.

  What if she killed Janu? What would happen then? The shadow wouldn't be satisfied. That was how the spirit had solved the war the last time, and yet here they were a thousand years later, fighting the same fight. The shadow would just return in a new body, one Jinji maybe had no hope of ever finding. The phantoms would return, they would be right back here, but it would be even worse. Better the enemy she knew, the enemy she recognized, than the one she did not.

  There was only one way to end this.

  Compromise.

  "I know you are there," Jinji said, finally opening her eyes and standing. With one last glance at the city sprawled out below, at the riders and dragons doing their best to honor those who died, Jinji turned her back on Brython. She faced Janu. She faced the shadow. "I saw it this morning, but I didn't want to believe it was true. I didn't want to believe Janu was gone once more. But your eyes are not his eyes, no matter how similar they might look. And the smile that now graces your lips is all I need to see to confirm the truth."

  The grin widening Janu's cheeks deepened, turning even more sinister. "I didn't think I would fool you for very long. But it was just long enough. I wouldn't have missed this show, not even to kill every air affinity in the kingdom."

  Jinji's hand moved before she could control it. The smack of palm against cheek echoed in the air around her, pulsing. The shadow lifted his fingers, running them over the red mark bright on his face, laughing.
>
  "I don't want anyone else to die, not because of me," she said, staring at him hard, trying not to see the face so similar to hers, but the ugly soul beneath it.

  The shadow shrugged. "I'm afraid that's not up to you."

  "What do you want?" she spat. "What can I do to end it?"

  "End it?" He chuckled. "It's barely even begun."

  Jinji shook her head, stepping back, stepping away. "The more you speak, the more you make me want to give in to the spirit's request. A few more minutes and you can be gone, sent back to your realm."

  "You won't."

  "I might."

  Jinji forced her clenched fist to open, weaving a sharp blade and placing the hilt in her hand as a warning. A threat.

  "I dare you," the shadow whispered.

  Jinji moved, rushing Janu and placing the knife to his throat. For a moment, she really thought she might do it, she really believed she would end it. But then the shadow closed his eyes, and when they opened, it was her brother. Those brown globes were warm and soft and so terrifyingly confused.

  "Jinji?" he mumbled, jerking his neck away from her weapon, glancing down at the sharp edge. And then he shifted his gaze over her shoulder, sweeping over the mountains surrounding them. "What's going on? What—where are we?"

  Jinji jumped back.

  The knife disappeared.

  "Janu, I—"

  Soft laughter interrupted the words.

  The steel was back in Janu's gaze. "Too easy."

  "So this is what you want, to torture me?" Jinji dropped her gaze to the floor, unable to look at such sinister darkness swirling in her innocent brother's expression.

  "You're so…" he trailed off, thinking. Then his brows rose with enlightenment. "So human. Your reactions, they're so much more emotional than those of my spirit-self. So much more vibrant. So much more amusing. But no, it's not you I wish to torture. But the more I hurt you, the stronger you hold on to your convictions and the more trapped my spirit-self becomes. And that tortures her more than you could ever realize."

  "Well, it's not working right now," Jinji said, throwing her arms wide. "She's gone. She said she's grown tired of the game. She left me on my own."

  The shadow scrunched his brows and pursed his lips then relaxed. "She's there. She's listening. She just doesn't want you to know." And then he shook his head, and when he looked at Jinji, he was looking through her. Talking not to her, but to the spirit hiding somewhere within. "It won't work. How do I know her better than you when you've been with her for her entire life? Leaving her alone? Making her feel abandoned? I did that once. And she just came back stronger than ever against me."

  "And what do you think she's trying to accomplish?" Jinji asked.

  "It's so obvious," he said, rolling his eyes. Jinji remained silent, waiting for him to continue. And he couldn't help himself, he did. "She wants to weaken you, to make you vulnerable. My spirit-self searches for one thing, the ability to control you the way I control your brother. But you have too strong a will, she can't. Just as I planned."

  "You planned for this?" Jinji challenged, wanting more than anything to knock the arrogant grin from his lips, from her brother's lips. That smile was only ever supposed to rise in good-hearted mischief, not goading like this, not haughty. "You give yourself too much credit."

  "Do I?" He shrugged. "Perhaps. But I know things you could never dream of. You don't remember the other lives your soul has lived, but I do. I know your brother's past as well. And I knew from the start who the weak one would be. History always finds a way of repeating itself. Just look around you now."

  Jinji held her neck stiff, straight, refusing to give in to even the slightest command the shadow threw out. Besides, the image of Brython was fused to her memory. She didn't need to look around to see the similarities between the devastation of the phantom army in the spirit's vision and the devastation around her now.

  "Is there nothing I can say, no offer I can make that you would agree to?" Jinji plead, voice growing soft.

  "Oh, there are options," he mused, wandering around the plateau they stood on, stepping in circles around Jinji as he thought. "You can kill me and say goodbye to your brother. But I will only return. And you would need to find some way to live with the fact that you murdered the last of your kin."

  Jinji clenched her jaw, not speaking.

  "Or," he continued lightly, as though it were all some joke. "You could end your brother's life and your life as well, sending the spirit back with me so the two of us can continue our fight in the ether, away from this fragile realm. Of course, there is no guarantee I wouldn't just come back here without her. And then the world would be worse off than before." He stopped, eyes boring into her. "I can just see your prince now, inconsolable over the loss of his love. I don't think you are ready to say goodbye to him just yet."

  Jinji shuddered, shivering as a cold spell flashed through her. "Neither of those are options I'm willing to consider."

  "I didn't think so."

  "Is that it then? Is there no agreement we can come to?"

  The shadow stepped closer, stopping a few inches from her body, gazing down at her, making Jinji feel smaller than she had ever felt before. His nostrils flared, eyes burning with fury, a rare slip in his otherwise calm composure. "Your promises mean nothing to me."

  Jinji wasn't sure which one of them he was speaking to. But before she could analyze his expression and the anger simmering there, a flash passed over his features, washing them away.

  The shadow stepped back, swallowing. "Tell my spirit-self that if she is strong enough to break you, I am willing to hear what she has to say. But there is no deal you can make without her."

  Let me talk to him, the voice suddenly spoke, urging Jinji to let her through.

  Jinji bit her lip. The voice had been listening. She'd been there all along. Was the shadow right? Was she just biding her time until she could control Jinji the way the shadow controlled Janu? What deal would she make then when Jinji was powerless to stop her?

  "Your spirit-self is here," Jinji murmured.

  The shadow smiled. "If she isn't powerful enough to speak to me herself, then she isn't yet desperate enough to agree to the deal I want to make. Maybe if a few more cities fade to memory, she will see I'm long past playing games."

  Let me through! the voice shouted.

  Jinji gritted her teeth, shaking her head no.

  The spirit pushed against her, an overwhelming force in the back of Jinji's mind. The pressure grew, painful, a splitting headache tearing Jinji's forehead down the middle, ripping it in two. She winced, fighting the ache as she started to shake.

  But Jinji refused to give in.

  "Will you promise not to kill him?" she whispered fiercely, forcing the words through her teeth. And the shadow grinned deeper when he realized she wasn't speaking to him, when he took in the agony shifting her features.

  The spirit didn't answer.

  But the silence was answer enough.

  Jinji pushed against her, using all of her will. The pressure in her head broke. The voice's strength snapped, shooting her back into the corner of Jinji's mind, back into the little crevice of space Jinji allowed her to take up. The spirit was thousands, perhaps millions, of years old, but Jinji had something stronger than age on her side—love.

  You don't understand! the voice shouted. Jinji closed her eyes as the words rang impossibly loud. You are just a child compared to me, an infant. You are blinded by your emotions. There is no deal to make that your brother will survive. And without a deal, there is no way the world will survive. We all must sacrifice.

  "And what are you prepared to sacrifice?" Jinji whispered.

  What I must. Whatever I must.

  But the words did nothing to soothe Jinji's mind. Because she couldn't hand her future over to another person, not even the spirit. What would happen if she gave up control? The spirit could sacrifice her brother, could sacrifice herself, could sacrifice Rhen and the dragons and
the other riders. The more she thought about it, the stronger her convictions became. What else would the shadow want but to have the dragons gone from the world, to have the riders gone, to have the spirit gone? He would ask the spirit to remove every trace of herself from the spirit realm, to be with him in the ether forever. And then what would happen to everyone Jinji loved? The spirit would sacrifice them all in a heartbeat.

  Jinji shook her head, trying to dispel the images bombarding her. But she couldn't get rid of them. Rhen's blank, empty eyes stared up at her. Leena's. Janu's. They trusted her, all of them. And she wouldn't let them die. She wouldn't let someone else decide her fate, decide Rhen's fate, decide Janu's fate. Not when there was even the slightest possibility that that decision would lead to their deaths.

  Jinji sealed off the corner of her mind, slamming the door shut, locking it tight. The spirit was gone, at least for a little while. She would return—she always did. But maybe Jinji could take advantage of these few moments of peace.

  "Can I sacrifice myself to save them all?" Jinji whispered, strength zapped. "Will you leave Janu alone, Rhen alone, if I willingly go to your realm, forcing the spirit to come with me?"

  "Interesting," the shadow muttered.

  "I'll do it," she said, voice gaining conviction. "If you agree to let Janu live out his life, to let Rhen and Leena and Bran and the dragons survive, if you bring the phantoms back to your shadow realm and keep them there—if you will do all that, I will keep to my promise. The spirit is the one you do not trust to keep to her word, but you can believe me."

  The shadow clicked his tongue, pursing his lips and thinking, watching her. Then the corners of his mouth rose, and Jinji knew she had lost him. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I don't think that would be any fun, not yet anyway. There is something I want from my spirit-self, and if she would like to hear what it is, she knows where to find me."

  And then Janu's body collapsed against the dirt.

  Jinji dropped to her knees, cradling her brother's head in her lap, forcing the tears away. There was no choice but to be strong. If she let even one weakness leak through, Jinji would break under the avalanche that would follow.