On the tabletop, the spirit's hands clenched into fists. Her voice came out strained when she spoke. "Because right now, I am playing a very perilous balancing act. I'm using all of my strength to keep her mind asleep, all of my focus. And I cannot afford to be so distracted when the time comes."
A sliver of pride surged in Rhen's chest, as though Jinji's strength were his own. But then another thought brought him back to the reality of the situation. "Why do you need me to give this to her? Why must I betray her? Why not you? Why not the shadow or Janu?"
"Because," the spirit hissed, aggravated, "the elixir will affect only her mind. She must be awake and in control of this body when she drinks it. I cannot drink it for her or my mind is the one that would be affected. And the shadow? Do you really believe she would take anything from my shadow-self? She might trust him enough to make a deal, but she doesn't trust him that much. And Janu is a weak fool. He would never be strong enough for this. You are the only one she trusts, which means you are the only one wh—"
"Who can deceive her?" Rhen interrupted softly.
"Who can save her from herself."
Rhen tightened his fingers around the vial, pausing. Swallowing. Breathing. Thinking. And then he put it in his pocket, tucking it safely away.
The spirit grinned. And though she wiped the smirk from her face quickly, Rhen saw it. He stored the image in his mind, tucking that safely away too. He didn't trust this woman. He never would.
The spirit reached across the table, placing her palm over his hand. "I was hoping that would be your response."
"I haven't made my decision yet," Rhen spat, standing, repulsed by her touch.
"You'll do the right thing," the spirit said calmly, unfazed, no doubt in her mind. "When the armies of my shadow-self are scattered across the land, when the phantoms are poised to make their final strike, you'll understand. You'll do what needs to be done. You'll do what Jinji cannot."
Rhen turned his back on her, unable to listen any longer. In the distance, the orange flicker of his campfire and the luminescent glow of his slumbering dragon called to him. Rhen walked toward them, digging his feet into the sand, doing his best to walk and not run away.
"I'll be seeing you soon," the spirit called, voice blowing over him like a gentle breeze, making him cold.
Rhen didn't want to give her the satisfaction of a response.
He didn’t want to give in to the taunt.
But he did want to see Jinji one last time. He couldn't help it. He just wanted one second longer to take in her beauty, to remind himself what he was fighting for, to remember the compassionate soul he was trying to protect.
When he turned, she was gone.
The beach was empty. The ocean glistened with the light of the moon. The sand was blanketed in darkness. The whole night could be a dream. But Rhen placed his hand to his chest, feeling the bulge in his pocket, the small cylindrical shape he couldn't ignore, the vial of poison he would have to feed to the woman he loved.
Tonight was no dream.
It was a nightmare.
And it was the only option he had left.
17
JINJI
~ RONINHYTHE ~
Jinji woke exhausted for the third morning in a row. Stretching her arms overhead, she opened her eyes to darkness once more. But in those shadows, a face lingered, remnants of a dream Jinji couldn't quite hold on to.
Rhen.
Watching her intently.
No love in his eyes.
She blinked, sitting up, trying to dispel the image. For some reason, it felt more like a memory than a dream. But Rhen would never look at her like that—like a stranger, like the enemy. It was just a nightmare, something concocted by her mind in the fearful hours of the night. Nothing more. Definitely nothing that should concern her now.
"I think this darkness is making me crazy," Jinji murmured, turning to Janu. "It's time for sunlight again."
He nodded sleepily, still waking from his dreams—dreams Jinji guessed were far darker than her own. They both needed the fresh air and the warmth of the sun on their skin. Neither of them was made for the underground. They were made for the forest, for the sounds and sights of life. So Jinji lifted her palms, closing her eyes for a moment, and willed the ceiling over their heads away. She smoothed out the angles of the ravine, turning the steep cliffs into a rolling hill instead. The sharp rocks around them disappeared, transforming to soft grass. No one else would be injured in this spot ever again, especially not her brother.
When she opened her eyes, Jinji noticed something in the stark morning light, and she lifted her toes, inspecting them.
Sand.
Trapped under her toenails were little grains of sand, and she had no idea where they'd come from. Hadn't her dream with Rhen been on a beach? Hadn't the waves been rolling in her ears?
"Jinji?" Janu asked, interrupting her.
"Yeah," she said quickly, jolted, trying to clear the doubts from her mind.
Her fears were getting the best of her.
The shadow's taunts were getting the best of her.
But she refused to let him win.
"Will we rejoin the others today?" Janu asked, stretching and pushing the sleep from his limbs.
Jinji bit her lip, pulling her knees into her chest, curling up and thinking. "I don't know." And then she smiled playfully, turning to her twin. "Why? Do you tire of me already?"
Janu rolled his eyes, reminding Jinji so much of herself for a moment. "I know you well enough to know that this is your version of running and hiding. I don't want to steal you from your friends, Jinji. From your loved ones." He paused, licking his lips, furrowing his brows for a moment as though coming to a decision. And then he completed his thought. "From Rhen."
Her brows shot up. "Since when are you concerned with Rhen?"
Janu shrugged, leaning back and turning his face to the sky, letting the sun make his tan skin even tanner. "I admit I was hesitant at first," he said cautiously. Jinji glanced at him pointedly, but he didn’t see. "We spent our entire lives hearing only one thing of the newworlders—that they were untrustworthy. That they stole our entire civilization from us—our lands, our culture, even our language. And while that's true, that was a long time ago. And with my own eyes, I've seen how he looks at you. I've seen how all the riders look at you. And I think maybe there are a few newworlders out there who aren't quite so bad as I once believed."
"Janu, I—" But Jinji paused, swallowing as her throat closed with heady emotion. Never in her life did Jinji think she would get approval from her family, not when it concerned Rhen. And in this moment, it felt to her like Janu spoke for their whole tribe, as though their lost loved ones had come alive through him for a split second. For those first few weeks with Rhen, she had been tormented by what her parents would think of her, what Leoa would think to see her dearest friend falling for one of them, what Maniuk would think to see his matched betraying him with a newworlder prince.
But in this moment, Jinji felt vindicated.
If they were here, they would understand, just like Janu had.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Janu shrugged, unaware of how strongly his words were affecting her. "I've seen your eyes on that last day with our family a thousand times. The shadow haunted me with that memory over and over again. I've tortured myself with how broken you looked, how lost, how alone. And when I saw you again at the Gates, you were strong, defiant. You were more powerful and more self-assured than I had ever seen you before. And if that is because of Rhen, then I owe him thanks, not judgment. I want you to be happy, Jinji. When all of this is over, I want you to move on, to live your life, to let the past go, to let us go, and be free to be whoever you want. With whomever you want."
Jinji swallowed. "Us?" she asked.
Janu sat up, finding her eyes. But he didn't say a word.
"Why does that sound like goodbye?" she questioned.
His brows pulled tight. Frown-lines grooved
into his forehead. But he didn’t say anything. He didn't have to. Janu still didn’t believe he would come out of this war alive. And Jinji wasn't truly sure he wanted to.
"What do you want to do today?" she asked, looking away first, letting her back fall down against the soft grass. Jinji wasn't in the mood to fight, they'd argued enough already. She was tired of it.
Instead, she turned her gaze to the blue sky and the green that stretched until the edge of the horizon. Janu was behind her. The riders were behind her. The dragons were behind her. She could sense them all just over her shoulder—Janu a few feet away, the others farther away but still connected to her through the bond of the spirit magic. All of them were waiting for her to make a move. But she didn't want to do anything except lie in the sun, letting the rays warm her, letting the warmth calm her. If the world allowed, she would stay there all day, letting the peace wash over her.
"Janu?" she murmured, realizing he never responded.
The silence stretched on suspiciously.
Fear jolted through her—fear of what her twin might be doing.
Jinji jumped up, turning. "Janu?"
The shadow regarded her calmly, a slight smile on his lips. "I didn't want to disturb you. Not when you looked so serene."
"Why are you here?" she grumbled. The shadow had left her and Janu alone for two days—two blissful days. She had not spoken with him since he'd made his offer. And she still didn't know what to say. Jinji would do anything to keep Janu alive—but she couldn't bring the words to her lips, couldn't bring herself to admit that out loud. She couldn't get the riders out of her mind. What would they think—what would Rhen think? Every time she pictured speaking to the shadow, shaking his hand, agreeing to his terms, the image of Rhen's fiery green eyes took over. And each time, they blazed with betrayal.
"I'm here with a warning," the shadow said lightly.
"A warning?" Her eyes narrowed.
"I've grown tired of this world," he commented, sighing. "The draining emotions, the tiresome conversations, the heavy limbs, the weak body, the fighting, the bickering, everything."
The shadow dug his fingers into the grass below them and tugged, pulling out a stalk, letting it go in the breeze. Jinji watched the green float away and fall, blending back in with the rest. But she knew soon it would brown and disintegrate—it would disappear.
"So leave us be," she growled under her breath, annoyed. "Leave us in peace and go home."
He grinned. "You misheard me. I've grown tired of this world, yes, but not of my quest. I'm ready to go home, and I'm ready for my spirit-self to come with me. Once she's gone from this place and the confusion it brings, everything will return to the way it's supposed to be. Just as it always does."
"So what are you going to do?" Jinji asked with a sigh. She had grown tired of the shadow's endless taunts. What new game was he asking her to play? What now? What next?
"Tomorrow, I'm going to end the world."
Jinji paused, blinking.
He said it so nonchalantly, without a worry or a care.
"What?" she asked, sitting up, eyes growing fierce.
He turned to her, unconcerned. "You heard me."
"How? Why?" she questioned, tone deepening, voice getting louder.
The shadow dropped down to the ground, eyes on the sky as his hands came behind his head, utterly relaxed in the bright sunlight. "I've used these past few days to figure out my final plan, and this morning I realized I had it. Tomorrow, the phantoms will return. The cities of Rayfort, Da'astiku, Fayfall, and Lothlian will be surrounded. You and your dragons will have to figure out who to save, what to do. And in the meantime, I will wait and see if my spirit-self is strong enough to end it."
Jinji's jaw dropped.
Her eyes ticked back and forth as she repeated the list of cities in her mind. Rayfort—Rhen. Da'astiku—Leena. Fayfall—Bran. Lothlian—Jasper. A city full of loved ones for each rider. How on earth would they choose? How on earth could they?
"But…" Jinji sputtered. Then she reached over, grabbing her brother's hand, jerking the shadow upright and forcing him to look at her. "I thought we had an agreement. I thought you were going to make a deal with your spirit-self? You promised I'd be able to save Janu."
"I have made a deal with her," he replied calmly, not giving any information away. "I'm just raising the stakes to ensure she holds up her end of the bargain."
"What deal? How?" Jinji's voice grew frantic, panicked.
"That doesn’t concern you. Just trust me."
"Trust you?" she spat, flinging his hand away. Jinji stood, pacing in circles around the shadow.
He sat at the center, not bothering to move. "There are three possible scenarios as to how tomorrow will work out. The first, and what I hope will happen, is that my spirit-self holds true to the bargain we've made. The world will be saved, and in the moment of her inevitable betrayal, you will have the opportunity to save your brother through our bargain. The second, perhaps the worst in your mind but not so in mine, is that my spirit-self is not strong enough to hold her end of our deal. My phantoms will ravage the land, leaving only you, your riders, and any other spirit-affinity humans alive. The world for a time will seem over, but in a few thousand years, you will rebuild. And for those few thousand years, my spirit-self will be forced to stay by my side. Not a horrible outcome. And the third situation, the worst in my understanding, is that to save the world you kill your brother. I will be sent back to my world, but I will return in a few short years, and I will not be willing to reason with you a second time around."
"Reason?" Jinji cried, pausing, staring at him. "You call this reasoning with me? What would you have me do? You've given me no options—no choice that I can possibly choose!" She threw her hands in the air, screaming just to release some of the tension in her limbs. "Would you have me wait for the morning to come, do nothing, let the spirit control my body without a fight, and just hope she betrays you, so I have a small chance of saving my twin? Or should I fight with my dragons and lose to your phantoms, letting the world perish, knowing that when the battle was done, all four of the other people left alive would despise me until the end of our days? Or, of course, I could murder my brother and delay the inevitable?"
The shadow shrugged. "Just because you don't like the choices, doesn't mean they aren't there."
What should I do? Jinji called into the back of her mind. But the voice didn't respond. The spirit was done helping her. The spirit was nowhere to be found.
Please, Jinji tried again. I thought I was strong enough, but I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to decide the fate of the world.
Nothing.
No one.
What deal did you make? Jinji shouted at the spirit. What fate did you decide for me? For Janu? For Rhen?
The voice remained silent.
Jinji was abandoned, left alone with the weight of the world on her soul.
If I give you control tomorrow, can I trust you with all of our lives? Can I trust this compromise you've made with the shadow? Jinji whispered the thought, wilting under the utter quiet on the other side of her mind. Can I trust you? Could I ever?
"You can trust me," the shadow murmured, as though reading her thoughts.
Before Jinji could blink, could bring her attention back to the real world and respond, something hard slammed into the side of her head. She screamed, dropping to the ground as the pain zipped its way down her spine. Jinji lifted her hands, trying to weave anything that might protect her. But she was stupefied. Her thoughts were hazy and confused. The world was blurred. Her mind was utterly dazed, stunned into incoherence.
Her eyes opened just enough to see Janu looking over her.
"Trust me," the shadow purred.
He winked.
And the plate between his hands slammed down again, right in the middle of her forehead, turning her world black.
Darkness took over.
Time stopped.
Thought stopped.
/> Jinji stopped.
When she woke hours later, the sky was dark. The sun was gone. Even the stars seemed to be in hiding.
"Janu," she murmured, blinking, trying to sit up.
Even that slight movement made her head explode in pain. Jinji cried out, cringing, as a rainbow of agonizing colors burst behind her closed eyelids, each hue representing a different part of her that hurt.
Heal, she thought.
The spirits came. Even though the voice was in hiding, the magic of the mother spirit—the jinjiajanu present in the world around her—still listened. And her powers came quickly, shooting warmly across her body, sending a wave of sweet relief over her skin.
"Janu?" she said again when her strength returned.
Jinji jumped to her feet, peering through the ebony night. Spinning in circles, her eyes tried to cut through the shadows, to find shapes in the distance. But her brother was nowhere to be found. The shadow was gone, taking Janu with him. And then far off, Jinji saw something that comforted her—even now.
Flames danced across the sky.
A blaze sparked far off in the distance.
A small orange glow shot across the night like a falling star.
The fire dragon.
"Rhen," Jinji whispered, saying the word like a prayer.
And then she ran. And the burn in her legs felt good, felt like life. Even though her powers would get her there faster, Jinji didn't weave the spirits into a bird to carry her closer. Instead, her blood pumped. Her heart sped. Her breath came short. And her feet continued to pound against the grass. Each thump renewed her strength. Each beat brought the blaze closer, brought Rhen closer. The riders and their dragons came into view. Three of them slept. One of them did not—as though he were waiting for her, as though he knew tonight would be the night she would need him.
At the very edge of the sand, a wave of déjà vu stopped Jinji in her tracks.
Panting, she gazed at the beach.
Had she been here before?
The Phoenix Born (A Dance of Dragons #3) Page 20