Burning Magic

by Joshua Khan

  The deep rumble from Hades’s throat sounded like he disagreed.

  “Ah, you love it really.”

  Hades cried out and did a victory roll. He did love it.

  Would the phoenixes rise again? They were known for that, after all. How long would it take? An hour? Maybe only minutes?

  Assume the worst and make it minutes.

  Thorn swiveled his head until he spotted the phoenixes’ nest, still glowing orange with heat. It was easy to spot now that the sun had set.

  The shadows of the city below were long and deep.

  And, unless his eyes were deceiving him, things were stirring within them….

  FORTY-FIVE

  “Thorn!” Lily yelled, waving. “Thorn!”

  “He’s too high up, Lily. He can’t see us.” K’leef snapped his fingers. “I could create a fire….”

  “And have Jambiya spot it? No.” She climbed down off the wall she’d been standing on. “We know where Thorn’s headed.”

  She’d watched the whole battle, her heart in her mouth. She’d screamed warnings and curses from down here, urged Thorn to duck and Hades to weave, and cheered when the aqueduct had collapsed.

  “That boy…” she muttered. Thorn took way too many risks.

  K’leef smiled. “I know.”

  “Would you have thought of the aqueduct?” she asked.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It must be hard to concentrate when two phoenixes are about to burn your backside.”

  “He’s too stupid to be afraid,” said Lily. “That’s Thorn’s problem.”

  She wasn’t. She’d been terrified for him. Not that she’d ever let him know that. He might get the wrong idea.

  Oh, who am I kidding?

  He was always on her mind, one way or another. No one stood up to her like him, no one tormented her like him, and no one gave her as much joy as him. He didn’t know it. She couldn’t let him know, because…

  Because she was Lilith of House Shadow, ruler of Gehenna, and he was just Thorn.

  Names have power. That’s what Bitter Promise had said. And they had weight, too. Hers weighed heavily on every aspect of her life. It represented all her past, and all her future. Thorn flew among the clouds—he was free. Lily lived among the tombs of her heritage, with a name too heavy to let her take flight.

  Thorn’s twin sisters were named Petal and Heather. There would be Lilys in his village of Stour, too—girls from Herne’s Forest were often named after flowers.

  But her name was Lilith, and that wasn’t a flower. It meant “Mother of Monsters.” She fooled herself sometimes that she could be simply “Lily,” a flower of graveyards and tombs. There was no escape, no way to pretend she could be anything other than what she was.

  Thorn circled over the phoenix tower. He slid off Hades and dropped into the nest.

  “He’s done it,” said K’leef. He grabbed Lily and swung her around. “He’s done it!”

  Lily laughed as they hugged with joy and relief. All the dangers and the hardships now seemed worth it. Thorn had the phoenix; K’leef would be Sultan Djinn.

  “Did you ever doubt?” she asked.

  “That Thorn…” K’leef shook his head in wonder. “There’s no one like him.”

  She swelled with pride. There wasn’t. No one caused trouble like him, no one took risks like him, and no one achieved the impossible like him.

  He proved that you didn’t need to be a sorcerer to do miraculous things.

  K’leef let her go, and she spun on her heels and collapsed, laughing, in the dust. K’leef performed a little foot shuffle. “Remember when we first met? How we danced?”

  “How you kicked my shins, you mean?”

  He did a pirouette. “What do you think?”

  “Best stick to the sorcery, K’leef.”

  The whip hissed from out of the dark and cracked across his face. K’leef fell instantly.

  Lily jumped up but was struck across the back of the knees and fell down beside her stunned friend. K’leef groaned from the blinding cut across his forehead.

  “Stay down, Lily,” ordered Pan. “When will you learn?”

  Jambiya arrived with a handful of nomads—only five remained of his original host. One wound his whip into a loop that he slung over his shoulder.

  “You’ve lost, Brother,” muttered K’leef, still in the dust and wincing with pain.

  “Oh?” Jambiya turned around, arms spread. “Where is your phoenix?”

  “Thorn has it,” said Lily. “And he’s part of K’leef’s team, remember?”

  “There is a vast difference between getting a prize and holding on to it.”

  “You’ll ransom us for the bird?” exclaimed K’leef. “Where is your honor?”

  “K’leef, do you know how naive you sound? Honor? It’s a joke.” Jambiya flexed his fingers, and the tips glowed. “And you are a fool if you think I will leave you alive this time.”

  But Lily wasn’t paying them any attention. Flames were growing in the distance. “No…”

  Pan followed her gaze, frowning. “What?”

  The two phoenixes erupted over the ruins of the aqueduct. They circled once, then flew toward the nest.

  “Thorn!” Lily yelled, even though it was useless at this distance. “Thorn! They’re coming back!”

  Jambiya smiled. “Now that doesn’t sound good.”

  Lily struggled to her feet. “THORN!”

  What was he doing? The plan was to grab the egg and get out! Hades rested on another tower, battered and burned, unaware of the danger swooping in from behind.

  “Thorn!”

  Then she saw him—his head poked up above the edge of the nest. He held something glowing in his arms.

  “He has the phoenix egg…” said K’leef.

  Hades spread out his wings. He tipped off the tower and glided toward his friend.

  The phoenixes hit Hades unawares. He shrieked as they burned him, and Lily screamed as the bat fell in the sky, trailing smoke and fire.

  Thorn stumbled back and dropped the egg. He then gathered his bow. Arrow after arrow arched through the air, each one a perfect shot—as ever—but the shafts were consumed by fire before they hit. The two phoenixes circled above the nest, shrieking their rage at this intruder.

  “Thorn!” Lily screamed.

  The phoenixes hurled wave after wave of fire over the nest with each beat of their wings. The nest turned from red to gold to an unbearable white, too painful to look upon. The stone at the top of the tower bubbled.

  She screamed his name until her voice cracked.

  Lily sank to the ground. It couldn’t be.

  The phoenixes stopped their attack. They rose up over the nest and did their strange dance of fire over it. The danger was passed; the intruder was no more.

  Jambiya dabbed the sweat off his brow. “You could feel it from here, couldn’t you? I can only imagine what it must have felt like in the nest. But you can be sure it was painless. The boy was ash before—”

  “No!” Lily slammed her fists on the ground.

  The flames thickened on Jambiya’s palms. “It is over, Lady Shadow. I told you that one day you would be punished for your…unnaturalness. That day is here.”

  The nomads stepped back. One held K’leef by the throat.

  Lily lowered her head.

  Thorn was dead.

  And now it was her turn.

  But not on her knees.

  She stood up and straightened her dress. She brushed the dust from her sleeves. “The lava crown will not rest long on your head, Jambiya. They’ll know. They’ll know the throne’s not rightly yours. It may take a year, it may take ten, but eventually”—she looked over at her uncle—“all traitors reveal themselves.”

  “Perhaps,” Jambiya snarled as he summoned the flames. “But you’ll never know.”

  Lily glared at him, defiant till the end.

  Mother, Father, Dante…I’m coming.

  But it was Thorn she pictured as the heat inten
sified. Thorn with his bright green eyes, cheeky smile, and always-dirty face.

  Jambiya hurled the fireball.

  FORTY-SIX

  “No!”

  Lily was thrown off her feet. Fire fanned all around her. The flames licked her back, burning, enveloping her in pain.

  How am I still alive?

  “Run, Lily!”

  She stumbled up, tripping and falling over the rubble.

  I should be dead!

  “Run!”

  Pan! He stood there, between her and Jambiya. Flames engulfed him; he’d blocked the attack with his own body.

  How could he still be standing? Jambiya poured more flames on him, and the air around them roared and pulsed with unbearable heat. The sand at his feet bubbled and blackened.

  The nomad holding K’leef retreated, unable to stand the horrific sight and smell of burning flesh.

  “Uncle!”

  He looked back, just for a moment. His skin was black and peeling away from his face; his armor glowed a fierce, hissing red. “Run…” he croaked.

  “Stop!” Lily screamed.

  Jambiya, wearing a hideous grimace, did not listen. He spread his hands, and another wave of fire erupted over her uncle, melting his armor. Pan buckled but did not fall, using his sword to hold himself up.

  Then, unbelievably, he moved—one step, then another, faltering, shaking, each movement an unimaginable agony, yet he approached Jambiya and raised his blade, even as his skin burned on the metal.

  With one last cry, Pan stabbed it into Jambiya’s chest, driving it through till the point exited the sorcerer’s back.

  “Uncle!” She had to save him. He was the only Shadow she had left.

  “No, Lily!” K’leef pulled her back.

  “Let me go!”

  Jambiya roared. Flames spewed from his mouth and the wound in his chest. He grabbed hold of Pan and drove more fire through her uncle’s body. The flames swirled around them, creating a barrier of devastating heat.

  Pan pushed once more, driving his blade deeper, and finally, both men fell, the fire extinguished. Jambiya trembled, turned black, and crumbled to ash.

  “Lily…are you…all right?”

  It was Pan. His body was burned horribly, his armor had melted over him, and yet somehow he lived.

  “Uncle!” Lily ran to him.

  He sighed as she gently cradled his head. Smoke seeped from his cracked skin, and he was almost too hot to hold, but Lily ignored the pain. Her tears hissed as they fell upon his cheeks. “Why?”

  FORTY-SEVEN

  “No, no, no, no.” Lily held Pan’s hand, squeezing it for all she was worth, as if she could pass her life into his. “Please, Uncle, stay with me. You have to stay.”

  He shivered despite the heat and smoke rising out of his blackened body. His cracked lips formed a weak smile. “Lily…”

  “You’ll be all right. I promise. I promise.”

  He has to be. Life can’t be this cruel.

  Pan’s smile turned into a grimace as he fought the immeasurable pain. “Salome…always said…”

  “We’ll talk about Mother later. Just rest. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”

  His eyes glazed over; whatever he was seeing now wasn’t in this world. “…said a lady had to have three things…grace, wit…”

  “And brave knights. Brave knights.”

  His laugh was a hideous, croaking gasp. “Brave knights willing…to die for her. That’s what she said, Lily. Remember?”

  “Don’t think like that.”

  Her heart had been ripped apart once before. She never thought she would feel the same pain ever again. Yet here it was. How? This man had murdered all she’d loved, and yet she couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving her.

  K’leef knelt down beside her, letting his tears join hers.

  “So like her, Lily. You’re so like her,” Pan went on. “You have those three things.”

  “I don’t want them,” Lily replied.

  Pan shook. “Oh, Lily, I can’t face them. How can I? After what I did…”

  “They’ll forgive you, Uncle. I know they will.”

  He looked at her, desperately afraid. “Some things can’t be…Some things are beyond forgiveness.”

  She ached at the price of it all. She’d never wanted to be ruler; the crown was no reward—it was a curse.

  Lily brushed the crinkled hair from Pan’s tortured face. His eyes brightened, and he relaxed, as if all pain was passing. He smiled. “Lily, I see…look…”

  Then a sigh escaped him, and the eyes quieted, yet the smile remained. Whatever Pan had seen in that last moment had made him glad.

  Lily kissed her uncle’s forehead. His exile was over.

  “Lily. You need to get up.” K’leef stood over her. “They’re coming.”

  “Who? There’s no one left….”

  He didn’t answer.

  Lights blinked in some of the windows, as faint as the first stars of the evening. She heard murmuring voices, too—sounding distant but numerous. And the shadows moved. Dark figures crossed the streets and the walls.

  Misty shapes emerged from the ruins, the ancient doorways, and the bones. They swirled softly, animated by a force the living couldn’t feel. They took the forms of men, women, and children. They wore robes and jewels of the finest quality, now reduced to ethereal memory.

  They had tarried too long. In all the chaos, Lily had forgotten the ancient warning.

  Do not linger in Necropolis after dark.

  And so they had come, for it was their city.

  The dead.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  A nomad—one of Jambiya’s small band—tried to attack the encroaching mass. He slashed and stabbed with his scimitar, but the keen blade passed through the spirits, for they were not made of mortal flesh. They gazed, dull and pitilessly, as his blows grew more and more frantic. He yelled and cursed, and then his eyes widened and the fury morphed into terror.

  One of the ghosts reached out and sank its fingers into the man’s chest.

  His clothes began to rot. His black hair was washed through with gray, and his dark, tough skin wrinkled as the muscles beneath withered. Patches of rust bloomed on his bright blade, and then the weapon corroded. Even when he was just a skin-clad skeleton, some weak, feeble life remained. He tried to struggle free, but how could he? He was ancient now. The ghosts surrounded him, drawing out his life essence, and then he sagged and all that remained were some dusty bones within a pile of moldy, faded cloth.

  “Stay close!” K’leef grabbed Lily’s hand and swept a circle of flame around them both.

  The ghosts backed away, but there were other victims to their immortal hunger. The few remaining nomads tried to run for it. They climbed over the walls, even as the spirits floated toward them straight through the cracked marble. They fled down alleys and along the street, even as the ghosts drifted out of the buildings and gathered in dark corners of the city, and there were many dark corners.

  “I can’t keep…this…up….” K’leef strained to hold the horde back. His flames spluttered and fizzed. His barrier cracked.

  The ghosts drew closer.

  A chill wind blew over them, and the flames flickered. K’leef stood, defiant, jaw clenched, as he urged more energy, more magic, out of his body. Smoke hissed from his skin and darts of fire flew from his eyes. She tightened her grip, ignoring the heat.

  But he was exhausted from fighting his brother, and the undead were beyond counting. Any second now they would be overwhelmed.

  They’d come so far, suffered so much, and this was how it ended.

  Lily gritted her teeth. Let it end. What was left for her in this world anyway? Soon she’d be with them all. Her family, and that surly boy with the cocky smile…She so desperately wanted to see Thorn again.

  The breeze grew stronger, and on it came a familiar smell, the stink of old fur….

  “So, who wants to be rescued?”

  Hades, his f
ur still smoking, dipped a few yards out of the sky and hooked Lily and K’leef in his claws.

  Thorn nudged the big bat with his knees, and Lily’s stomach dropped as they launched moonward.

  The ghosts surged forward through the fading wall of fire, but with each massive wingbeat, they rose farther away.

  Thorn looked down at her. “Miss me?”

  FORTY-NINE

  “You should be dead!” said Lily. Then she hugged Thorn with all her might. “Never, ever do that again!”

  Hades hadn’t carried them far—he couldn’t. One wing was torn, and the poor bat had bleeding gashes across his body. They looked bad; the skin around them was red and blistered.

  K’leef slapped Thorn on the back. “You had us worried.”

  Thorn shrugged. “Ah, it was no big deal.”

  “Really?” she asked, eyebrow arched.

  “No. It was actually amazing. I think, given all the amazing things I’ve already done, this must be the most amazing of all of them. I expect a pretty long poem out of this.”

  “Immortal fame and glory?” asked K’leef.

  “Yup. And a castle.”

  Lily circled him. His clothes were burned. His hair was singed black, he’d lost his eyebrows, and his clothes were filthy with soot. But his skin shimmered. Thorn’s skin never shimmered, even after his weekly bath. “Well?”

  “Er…well what?”

  “You’re glowing, Thorn.”

  “You noticed that?” He rubbed his bare arm. “It’s fading, a bit. But I think that’s why I’m alive instead of…not alive.”

  K’leef frowned. “Just tell us what happened.”

  “I had the egg,” he said. “I had it, and it was a lot hotter than I expected, and…er…I dropped it.”

  Lily groaned. “The phoenix egg? The fate of the Sultanate rested on that egg, Thorn! How could you?”

  “It was really hot!” he complained. “I tried to catch it, but, you know, catching eggs is hard. I squeezed it too much and it, well, just, er…broke. Yolk went everywhere. All over me—I even swallowed some. Tasted disgusting. Really, really foul.”

  “Then what?” asked K’leef.

  “Then Mommy and Daddy turned up and blasted fire all over the nest, with me still in it. I just blacked out. I only just woke up a few minutes ago. Fortunately for me, the parents had flown the coop. I saw the two of you in trouble, as usual, and I reckoned you needed saving. By me.” He smiled. “As usual.”