I pulled the burning fire back into my chest, where it stayed a constant smoldering, ever restless, always taunting me. My feathers melted away. My wings receded back into arms. Black talons turned from sharp points back into my combat boots. I held my position over him with my boot firmly placed against his neck. “Blackwing.”
He grinned. “Well done.”
I took a step back and released him from under my boot. For ten years I’d waited to hear those words. Ten years of relentless training. Ten years of building a life that didn’t feel like my own. He rose to his feet and offered me his hand. I grasped it hard as he gripped mine and shook it.
Then he yanked me toward him and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Our chests bumped together. “I’m proud of you, son.”
I stood in his embrace. I didn’t know what to say or do. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I’d just beaten the man who’d trained me my whole life, the one who was unbeatable. As the Guardian of my race I should’ve expected this but I was frozen in shock. All my life this was what I aspired to, but now that I was here, it felt…empty.
He turned from me and looked around the room. With a single wave he motioned toward me. “I give you…one of the six Knights.”
You’re so sure I’ll make it? I shook my head. How could he he call me a Knight when the trials hadn’t even begun? Truth was I loved using my powers, but deep down I wish it came with the freedom for me to decide what to do with them.
One by one each of the men of the Sector pounded their fists to their chest the way they did when greeting my father, the King. Each of them bowed their heads to acknowledge the position I was born into, the position that would consume my life from then on, the position I never wanted.
I smacked my fist to my chest, giving them the respect they’d shown me. “May the flames endure.”
Blackwing inclined his head at me. “And rise from the ashes.” He sucked in a breath and clapped me on the back. “In two days you will report to the Trials and become the leader of the Knights. I know it.”
He was so sure that was my destiny, but I didn’t want a destiny that was already planned for me. I wanted the freedom to choose my path. The mark on my neck made that impossible. “I will honor the Phoenix Clan.”
Even if that means going to the Trials.
Chapter 3
The double doors that lead to the royal suites my parents occupied always seemed so foreign to me. Not once since I was six years old had I been summoned there. I’d missed the nights of climbing into the bed along side my mother and asking for a story. I’d missed so many things growing up, things every child should have. A mix of anger, hurt, and resentment rolled in the pit of my stomach. I swallowed it down, putting my duty first as I always had.
Now my father had specifically asked for me to go to see him privately. A nervous ball settled in my throat. What will he say? Will he worry for me or will he have confidence in my abilities? Did he regret shipping me off to Blackwing at such a tender age? I held my shoulders back and knocked on the door.
“Enter.” His deep voice rumbled from beyond, I sucked in a breath and forced my emotion into check.
I ran my fingers through my hair and pushed the auburn strands from my eyes. When I wrapped my hands around the golden knobs, my nerves fluttered. My life had been consumed with training, ever since the day the letter arrived. Now there I stood, the day before I left for the Guardian Trials. The weirdest part of all this was I felt more nervous to face my parents than I was the Trials. The distance had grown between my family over the years. Gone were the fun times I spent with my brothers and parents. Now each of us lived the lives we were born into. I couldn’t help but wonder if my brothers resent it as much as I do?
I should’ve been terrified for the Trials. But there was one thing I learned in all this…Being a Guardian came as naturally to me as breathing. During the last Trials two hundred years ago competitors died fighting for the right to become one of the six Knights. And yet I didn’t feel the nerves I was expected to have. The only thing I wanted was a moment when my parents didn’t think about what the mark on my neck meant. I wanted a moment to say goodbye. Would I ever see them again? My throat constricted, forming a ball I couldn’t swallow down. My breaths came in quick pants and the back of my eyes prickled. I might not ever see my family again. I balled my hand into a fist and coughed into it, clearing away my throat and reigned in my emotions.
I pushed through the door and walked inside. I froze, the room hadn’t changed in the years I’d been away training. For a moment I felt like a child again, ready to run in and make myself comfortable. But that was then, and this is now. I wasn’t welcome to make myself comfortable, even ten years later that knowledge stung. I sucked in a breath forcing myself to remember my father’s piney scent mixed with my mother’s cinnamon one. I let that breath out on a sigh and gazed around, taking in every fancy pillow, every wooden carved phoenix, and every piece of furniture.
To the right were the queen’s chambers and to the left were the king’s. My father stood in the middle of the sitting room. Though I’d seen him only a few times over the years he’d barely changed. Many said I took after him in looks. We both shared deep auburn unruly hair, and honey colored eyes. But his face held was along oval shape and sharp aristocratic features. Mine was round with hard angles and my chin was more pronounced than his. As A child I always though him to be so huge, now I stood two inches taller than he did. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched toward me for a moment holding it there before he balled into into a fist and placed on the back of the chair next to him. When he stared down at his fist for a moment I imagined he wanted to reach out and hug me, the way Blackwing had done earlier in the morning. But he didn’t move toward me, didn’t draw me in the way I’d seen so many father’s do for their sons.
Instead he brushed at the ornate furniture surrounding him. His black suit coat and tailored paints stood out among the pastel covered furniture. Reds, oranges and yellows flowed through out the room. These were the colors of my home, a home I didn’t know. They’d been part of my life since birth. And yet I didn’t feel any of the wonder I once did as a child. I squared my shoulders and I strolled further into the room to face my father.
He turned toward me with a bright smile spread across his face. “Tucker, my boy. How is your training going? Blackwing assures me you’re well in hand.”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my dark jeans, wanting to talk about anything else besides this. I wanted to tell him how I’d won against Blackwing today, how I was going to miss them all when I was gone. I wanted to know if they’d miss me? “Yes, it’s good.” Torturous.
“Glad to hear it.” His mouth opened and closed. It was so unlike him, as the King of Cindelore he was charismatic, charming, and gifted at enthralling crowds of people each day. But now standing before me the awkward silence hung between us. Again he plucked a the fabric on the back of the chair. The day we received the letter about the fifth Witch Queen having been discovered the wrinkles around my father’s eyes had deepened, and every day since they seemed to grow
Say something, Dad, anything. Or am I just another soldier to you? When we weren’t talking about my training there wasn’t much else to discuss. He’d been so busy ensuring I had the knowledge I needed to survive that he’d forgotten to let me really live.
When my mother strode into the room my father visibly relaxed. His shoulders slumped and his smile came more naturally. “Ah, Zandra, my darling. How are things with Barrow?”
She barely acknowledged him. Yet another thing that had changed on the day the letter arrived. Her eyes lingered over me and I shifted from one foot to the other. Memories of how she used to gather me up in her arms assailed me. Now she was a shell of herself, the warmth I’d once felt each time I was around her was now gone. I missed the mother she’d been to me. I wanted that for only a moment before I left.
Over the years she’d became increasingly distant from the rest of
us, in particular my father. She was closed off, throwing herself into the duty of being Queen. Now her strawberry curled were pinned high and tight to her head, surround by her crown. Gone were her beautiful flowing dresses in their place she wore high stiff collared thick red fabrics with black patterns sewn into them. “Just fine. He’s being presented to society next week and we should have a few noble matches for him.”
There was only one reason I valued my Guardianship as my destiny: I wouldn’t ever have to be sent into an arranged pairing like the rest of the royals would. Barrow had been resistant to the idea of it for years and made no effort to hide his disdain. Funny how we both are running from duties thrown upon us.
My father clapped his hands together. “Excellent.”
“Is it?” My mother tilted her head to the side. Her eyes flashed toward me yet she said nothing. I’m right here mom. Talk to me.
Baffled, my father glanced at me then back toward her. “Yes, I find the traditional way of doing things will be helpful for Barrow. Look how well it did for the two of us. By now you must have expected this?”
“Yes, let’s look how well it all turned out. Three sons all relegated into roles of royal responsibility. As a mother, one does love seeing her children’s choices being made for them. And as for expecting this.” She motioned to the room around her. “The dreams we once spoke of are long gone, the changes we wanted to make for our family, for our people have slipped through our fingers. I can only hope Judd will be looking toward the future for our clan and not traditions that have long since past.”
The breath left my lips. I’d never witnessed this side of her. Was she sticking up for me? Or Barrow? I could hardly believe yet. I wanted to smile at her, to show her I appreciated her words. But I held fast and kept my face passive and my mouth shut. Over the last decade she’d been tight-lipped and controlled. Now in the safety of their private chambers she was merciless in her resentment toward the crown. Yet another family member frustrated with the way things were.
“We will not speak of this again.” My father held his fists at his sides. “The Phoenix have functioned this way for thousands of years.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “That’s right, a thousand years of no advancements or change. I see we are keeping up with the times.”
He turned toward the door with his cheeks puffed out, they grew redder by the moment. He paused beside me on his way out and rested his hand on my shoulder. “I know you’ll do great things.” He gave it a small squeeze. I nodded and just barely stopped myself from turning to embrace him.
Without another word he walked from the room and left my mother and I alone for the first time in a long time. Goodbye to you too, Dad. I gave a single nod to my mother then turned to follow him out.
“Tucker.” Her voice broke, it stopped me in my tracks.
I spun around to face her once more. I fought the hope that she might do or say something. Sweat gathered in the palm of my hands. Would she know I wanted her to say goodbye, wanted her to hug me close just one last time before I was forced away from this place. “Yes—”
She hurled toward me and wrapping her arms around my neck, then pulled me toward her. The breath hitched in my throat, and I hesitated for a moment with my hand hovering just over her back. I pressed my eye lids shut fighting the prickling behind them. I swallowed around the ball in my throat. When I was younger I used to fit up against her side perfectly. Now, well on my way to being one of the largest Guardians the Phoenix Clan had ever had, she barely came up to my chest. I wrapped my arms tightly around her, clinging to the moment I’d been waiting for, for ten years. “Mom?”
“Forgive me, Tucker.” Her tears seeped into my shirt. Each one was like a drop of ice against my skin.
“It’s okay.” I ran my hand over her back in rhythmic circles, the way she did when I was younger.
She sniffed. “They told me I couldn’t coddle you, told me to keep my distance to make you more self-sufficient. And deep down I knew it was wrong, but I listened. I shouldn’t have. Now you’re leaving and I might…I might never see my baby boy again. I just wanted you to grow strong, to survive.” She pulled back and gazed up at me through watery eyes. The reached out and ran her fingers down my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh. It’s going to be okay, mom.” I’d almost forgotten what her fingers felt like on my cheek.
She cupped my face in her hands. “I will never forgive myself for what’s happened to you. My sweet boy isn’t here anymore.”
I’m here! But I didn’t say that, I couldn’t. My emotions would always be my own, hidden from even her. “I’m okay.”
She dug her fingers into my neck and pulled me closer to her. My heart fluttered in my chest as I balled my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. The shock of the moment seeped into me, this was not what I expected. But it’s what I needed. I pressed my hands to her cheeks and bent lower to meet her gaze. “I promise you I will come back.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know what’s happened to all the Guardians before you…”
“I know.” It’d been one of the things Blackwing had briefed me on. The history of the Phoenix Guardians. “I am different.”
She shook her head, and the tears streamed down her cheeks on to my hands. Each one a shock to my heart. Then she took a step back from me. “How are you different, Tucker? You’re my son and I’m proud of you, but how is any of this different?”
I had no idea how I was different. I was just sick of everyone assuming I was going to fail and die a horrible death. It was like no one had any faith, they just threw me into the pit and accepted that history would play out the same way. My mother continued to stare at me, like she was praying I’d have an answer that made her worries melt away. I didn’t have one for her, but I had to say something. This was the first time she reminded me of the mother that used to hold me close.
I squared my shoulders and tried to look confident. “Have faith in me, I may not have signed up for this but I am good at what I do. Alataris stole everything from me, I plan on returning the favor.”
Chapter 4
Only a year after arriving at my training facility, I wondered into the woods. Frustrated at being taken from my family, friends, and a life I’d loved, I sat on a log toying with a small fire I’d started. When Blackwing joined beside me I turned my back toward him. “Why do I have to be here? I want to go home.”
“Has no one ever told you the full story of the evil King Alataris?”
I shook my head while kicking at a stick on the ground. “No.”
“Well let me tell you now, boy.” He slapped his hand across his knee. The sound was muffled by his thick leather pants. He leaned his elbow on his thigh and faced me. “Long ago before your grandfather ruled Cindelore, King Alataris sought to rule all the witches as his father once did.”
“The five witch casts were ruled by one King?” I couldn’t believe my ears. The casts had been so separated for as long as any history I’d ever read.
Blackwing nodded. “Oh yes, they lived in peace among each other. But Alataris was a greedy son and wanted all that power for his own. So he fooled all the casts into thinking his father had died so he would be crowned King. All the while he himself was siphoning power off of the five casts, weakening them.”
“King Alataris is a Siphon Witch?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice. “But I thought siphon witches were good. I heard my father say that one of the Queens is a siphon witch and she’s good.”
“Like any other being in Evermore they can be good or evil. Just so happens Alataris is about as evil and greedy as they come.” Blackwing picked up a stick from the ground and poked at the small fire I’d made. “Do you want to know more?”
I turned toward him. “Yes.”
“When the elder witches of each cast finally realized what was happening it was too late. They’d lost so much of their power they couldn’t fight against him. Seeking a way to overthrow Alataris they cal
led on Hecate, the first witch to ever be. They pleaded for her to grant them the power to take down Alataris, but she could not. There was only one set of beings who could grant that kind of power. Do you know who they are?”
“The Fallen?” It was a guess, but all my life I’d heard that they ruled Evermore and every being in it. Some say they were the oldest Supernaturals to walk the earth, others said they were brothers of the devil, but not me. I thought they were exactly what the name said, Fallen Angels.
Blackwing nodded. “That’s right. But you see The Fallen couldn’t just grant power to whomever needed it.”
“Why not? If it would get rid of Alataris?” I crossed my arms over my chest. Knowing that if he wasn’t so evil I could’ve been with my family all this time. Instead of training to fight against him.
“Life is about balance.” He waved his hand through the air and tiny sparks shot from his finger tips in a golden arch. “And no one, not even the witches, should be able to tilt the balance so greatly. But The Fallen wanted to help the witches and they found a way by granting them one spell. A very powerful spell. A spell that would effect Evermore and its inhabitants for millennium to come.”
I sat on edge, clinging to his every word. “What spell?”
“The spell of the Queens.” The embers from my fire reflected in the whites of his eyes. He sat forward with his elbows on his knees. “Now I can’t be sure what was said in the spell all those years ago but I can tell you this. Every now and then each of the casts produces a Queen. The one witch who can master the power in it’s cast. This is where it really gets interesting. When all five Queens ascend, or get their full power, at the same time. They have enough magic to fight against Alataris and hopefully one day will overthrow him.”
Wicked Trials Page 3