Had she come here under different circumstances, she’d have loved nothing more than to spend hours reading all these books, examining every item, learning everything she could about this world. But the books would have to wait; a more pressing matter was at hand.
Fia wandered through rooms, gathering bits of clothing and soap until she found what she was looking for: a bathtub. With Malachai’s help, she filled the bath with cooled kettle water. After a quick scrub, she sunk her filthy clothes into the water.
“Fia…” a voice called to her. It wasn’t Alexander or Malachai, but it was familiar, and it sent an icy chill up her spine. She pulled a cotton dress over her head and began to rinse out her clothes.
“Fia…why do you ignore me?” the voice whispered.
Fia counted her breaths. Just keep moving. A voice in your head can’t hurt you.
She leaned forwards over the bath to press the dirt from her hoodie, and then she was being sucked in, beneath the water, further and further down, as if it were a deep lake, the top edge of the bath growing smaller and smaller as she sunk. She thrashed with her arms and kicked out with her legs, her movements frenzied as she struggled to kick her way back to the surface. She reached out a hand as she swam closer to the bath’s edge, but her fingers connected with glass before she made it to the surface. Bubbles streamed from her as she screamed and banged her fists against the glass.
Just as her lungs expelled the last of her air, she was back beside the bath, leaning over it, swirling her hoodie around in the dirty water, her cotton dress as dry as it was a few moments before, as if nothing had happened. Her throat was hoarse as if she’d been screaming, and her heart beat heavy in her chest. With trembling hands, she wrung out her clothes.
Fia returned to the main room with her bundle of clean, wet clothes under one arm, and her roll of found items in the other, trying to control her shaking. Neither Alexander nor Malachai were present as she hung her belongings around the fire to dry before settling into a dark velvet armchair. She pulled a checked blanket around herself; it was just like the blanket she’d taken to Highgate Cemetery. It felt like it was weeks ago that she’d followed Alexander in the middle of the night. Well, whatever she’d thought she’d been following.
One, two, three. She held her hands in her lap to try and stop them from shaking. London was so far away. What if they couldn’t get her back? One, two, three. She twirled the little bird charm at her wrist. She’d have to think of something to tell Jo; she’d never believe the truth. One, two, three.
The city, what remained of it, seemed old and new all at once. Some things were familiar, like the buildings and the cobbled streets, but then there was the strange vehicle they’d found Tully in. All the furniture in the room looked old, by her standards. But then again, it had just survived an attack from the Makya.
She felt as if she was drowning in the bath again, pounding her fists at the glass beneath the surface. Someone, or something, had been calling to her since she’d first arrived in Ohinyan. But that had just been an illusion, hadn’t it? Like Noor’s illusion? Could it be another witch? Something inside her told her not to mention it to Alexander. What if he thought she was crazy?
Fia’s eyes were heavy and her body ached. She sunk into her armchair beside the fire, counting her breaths once more. One, two, three…
…
“Fia, wake up.” Alexander’s hands cupped her face like before, in the cave. She froze as her eyes met his, the whisper from her dreams still soft in her ears, calling her name, over and over.
“You were dreaming,” he said. Neither of them moved, and Fia couldn’t help but notice the way Alexander’s eyes darted from hers to her mouth. He leaned in closer, until they were so close they could share a breath. Fia looked at him, motionless, his eyes glistening like sunlight on a wave.
Alexander seemed to remember himself and stepped away, frustration laced across his brow.
“Don’t go.” Fia reached for his hand. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He hesitated for a moment before sitting beside her. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay with you.” Alexander neatened the blanket and took a spot on the floor.
“Thank you.”
The memory of being stuck beneath the surface of the bath water came rushing back to her, and she focused on her breathing until sleep took over.
…
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window, and the fire was nothing more than a few embers. Alexander sat on the other side of the fire, and Fia caught his eyes shyly as she got up.
“Good morning,” he said. His voice was gentle, but he barely flashed a smile. “Let’s go join the others for breakfast in the square. I’ll meet you down there.” He left before Fia could reply.
She dressed quickly, using some of the clothes she’d found the night before: a woollen wrap and heavy leather boots paired with her own jeans and top, freshly cleaned. She’d also come across a small leather backpack, which she threw over one shoulder.
He’d almost kissed her. Had she dreamed it? She wanted to kiss him again and again. Fia let out a quiet whistle. I never wanted Henry like this. Alexander’s mood swings were exhausting, but when there were glimpses of his kindness, of his friendship with Malachai… She shook her head, combed her fingers through her tangled hair, and ran down the stairs, through the corridor, and outside to the square. Don’t get in the way of his responsibilities.
In the morning light, the city looked the same dreary grey as it had the night before, and the cobbled streets were lined with junk and litter. The reek of burnt hair filled her nostrils.
“Welcome to Turaunt,” Jonas said with a cheery smile as he followed Fia’s gaze. “I hope you slept well?”
Fia nodded, with a sideways glance at Alexander, but he avoided her eyes. Malachai passed her a bowl of stodgy porridge, steaming in the cool air.
“I’m glad my daughter’s things are of use to you. She moved to Ikothea a while back.” Jonas looked across the square to Tully playing with her brothers.
“Thank you.” Fia smiled. Alexander’s eyes met hers for a moment, but she glanced away. Had it meant nothing to him?
Jonas was quiet as he twisted his beard between his fingertips.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Alexander asked.
“It happened a week ago.” As Jonas spoke, a man on the opposite side of the square reached down to a little girl, wobbling at his legs. He helped her as she took slow, clumsy steps on the cobbled streets. “The same as we had heard from our relatives elsewhere in Ohinyan. One minute everything was like normal, going about our lives, the next the Makya are fire-bombing the streets and the buildings, telling people they can either join them or die. It happened so quickly. When it was over, those that were left either ran to make a new life elsewhere, or had nowhere else to go. That’s us,” he finished, waving at the group in the square.
Jonas followed Fia’s gaze to the man and the little girl. “That’s my son-in-law, Patrick, and my granddaughter, Irina. He’s like you.”
Fia paled. How did he know? “What do you mean, like me?” Fia asked. Patrick was looking at them now.
“He’s from your world, and I’m guessin’ you’re trying to get back.” Jonas took his pipe out of his coat pocket and rested it in the corner of his mouth.
Fia didn’t know what to say. If Patrick and Irina were in Ohinyan, that wasn’t a good sign, surely?
“And the girl?” Alexander asked.
“She was born here…my eldest daughter, her mother, was born here, and she met Patrick when he fell through that hole in the sky. They built a life together, had little Irina here.” Jonas held the end of his unlit pipe as he spoke.
Patrick stood up, scooping Irina under his arm, and walked over to them. “Jonas,” he said, pronouncing the last part of Jonas’s name with an “iss” sound.
“Fia here is hoping to get back to Earth,” Jonas said, after making introductions.
Patrick didn’t reply
. He put Irina down, holding her coat hood as she wobbled against his leg, chewing a rattle.
“Would you, if you could?” Fia asked.
Jonas raised an eyebrow, as he chewed on his pipe.
“Go back? No. I can’t. This is her home. I can’t take her away from it,” Patrick replied, as Irina gurgled at his feet.
Fia nodded. “But you know a way?”
“Well, no…only heard of rumours. Elena, my wife, for years we researched ways to get back to Earth.” He looked down at Irina, smoothing her hair back as he spoke. “But then Ohinyan became my home. Its strange creatures and its strange ways, they kind of, take hold of you I guess.” He looked around them, taking in the charred remains of the city. “Anyway, we only ever found tales, like our folklores and legends on Earth. Some were stories passed on from witches, some from the Nords, and others from elsewhere in Ohinyan. They told us we couldn’t pass through a window, even if we could reach one.” Patrick pulled a hair from Irina’s mouth and tucked it behind her ear.
And what if they could? For all she’d learned, she didn’t know how Alexander planned on getting her back to Earth, or why she was even in Ohinyan in the first place. Why hadn’t he explained it? Did he not know? Did only Noor’s coven know the answer? It didn’t make any sense. She wrapped her arms around herself at the memory of her fists drumming against the glass beneath the bath water.
Jonas finally lit his pipe and held it, one arm tucked under the other, without taking a drag. “You and Patrick can reminisce later, but for now, we have other things to discuss,” he said, and finally took a puff. “Alexander, we’ve had travellers passing through this way since the attack, and they’ve told stories of a darkness, of whispers in the night.”
Fia felt a wave of nausea wash over her and cleared her throat to disguise her uneasiness.
“A consequence of our dying sun,” Alexander replied.
“A consequence,” Jonas mimicked. He blew a perfect O with the smoke from his pipe, encircling the sun, hidden behind a film of white clouds. “You never said what brought you to Turaunt in the first place.”
“We’re looking for a coven. Fia needs to speak with the witches. Do you know of any near here?” Alexander asked.
“Witches.” Jonas placed the pipe in the corner of his mouth and shook his head. “None around here. Besides, we may well have to leave here before long.”
“Where will you go?” Fia asked.
Jonas emptied his pipe with a firm tap, crushing the smouldering leaves under his foot. “I will show you, seeing as you might be in need of a map. These angels aren’t as knowledgeable about the land as you might think.” He winked and put his pipe back in his pocket before wandering off into the house. When he returned, he was holding a few large pieces of parchment, and a wooden bow with a matching quiver, laden with arrows.
“As you found my daughter’s old hunting pack, you may as well take her bow. There’ll be a good knife in the side pocket of the pack, here.” He handed it to Fia. She nodded gratefully, placing the bow over her shoulder; it rested perfectly across the backpack.
Jonas placed the parchment on an upturned crate. “We are here.” He drew a large X through the word Turaunt on the map with a piece of charcoal from the nearest smouldering fire.
Fia could see the contour lines making up the large cliff face they’d come down, with the moor high above, and the large, green expanse of the forest stretching on for a great distance. They’d been making their way west across Ohinyan.
“We’ll go here, in time. This is where my youngest lives.” He drew a circle around a coastal city, Ikothea. “Here.” He folded up the map. “We won’t need this. We know the way.”
Fia slipped the map into her backpack.
“Now, you two better come with me.” Jonas turned to Alexander and Malachai. “You’ve got some solemn work ahead of you.” He handed them each a shovel, and they followed him away, into the city.
Fia’s eyes followed Alexander’s silhouette until he was out of sight.
“This place really grows on you,” Patrick said beside her.
“Yeah. You could say that.”
Patrick smiled. They shared stories of where they were from. Patrick had been in Ohinyan for eight years and had fallen through a window whilst caving in Mexico. Elena had found him, fighting for his life.
“Sometimes, I think about what I left behind.” Patrick bounced Irina on his knee as he spoke. “But then I think of what I have here.” He smiled at his daughter. “This world is full of so much diversity.” He gestured towards a little child with lizard-like features, running around on two legs with its companions. “It might not seem like it given the circumstances, but there’s a lot of beauty here. A lot of history. And community. Even before the Makya attacks, everyone would always come together, help each other out.” He shrugged as he wiped Irina’s hair from her eyes. “I could never take her away from this. If we make it through what’s coming, Ohinyan will be a far better place than our world will ever be for my daughter to grow up, even without her mother in it. Home is not always where we come from, I guess is what I’m trying to say.”
Home. That little flat back in London hadn’t felt like home since Sophie had died, but it was all she had. There had to be a way back. But if it was as simple as just flying her back through, wouldn’t Alexander have done that already?
Alexander returned, alone. “Where’s Malachai?” Fia asked.
“I sent him to update my General and to see his wife. Then he will continue enlisting the help of all the angels across Ohinyan, before reporting back to me.” Alexander was sullen, like he’d been the day before on the way to Turaunt.
“Isn’t that what you’re meant to be doing, instead of babysitting me?” Fia’s words came out with more exasperation than she’d meant them to.
Alexander was silent. She wanted to reach for him, but the thought of him pulling away again held her back. She knew the answer anyway and felt colour flush her cheeks. “I don’t have to go back yet. It doesn’t have to be a priority. There are more important things going on right now.” It was the truth, and she knew it.
“Fia, we’ve been through this. You don’t belong here. We have to get you home.”
She stared at her feet. His words stung worse than before. He’d made it clear he didn’t want her here, in the way. It was obvious his actions the night before were a mistake, and she was a fool for thinking it meant something to him.
Chapter Twelve
Alexander
Alexander and Fia left the city in silence, and he found himself counting his breaths as he’d so often seen her do.
Tully had gifted Fia a copper button. “For protection,” she’d told them, moments before they left. Jonas had given them provisions for their journey, warning it could take up to a week to get to Ikothea on foot.
You could carry her.
Alexander had insisted they make their way to Ikothea as soon as possible. It was the last place he knew Altair and the Navarii were headed, and witches often traded there. He’d said little since telling Fia she had to return to Earth. Guilt bristled through him since the moment he’d said it, but his responsibilities weighed heavily on him, and trying to explain that to her when he’d barely given her a reason to speak to him at all seemed like a pointless task. His behaviour had been unbecoming of a leader. He sighed. Of anyone.
As they walked, the husks of buildings and the burnt-out mess had given way to the city gates amongst a great wall, completely destroyed in places.
Once outside the city, they followed a river that twisted and turned, cutting a snake-like path into the earth. Turaunt was one of many valleys amongst the mountain range they were walking in, mountains that Alexander knew well from the air. By foot, they were something entirely different, and he recognised little as they walked. They were to take the largest pass through the mountains, which was used as a trade route. Jonas had told them to follow the river path upstream, and it would lead them to the pass. Va
st, black expanses of scorched earth and burnt buildings dotted the banks of the river, and with each destroyed farm they passed, Alexander made a promise to himself that it would not all be in vain.
“Lina and Anya will never believe this.” He shook his head. “This used to be farmland,” he explained, gesturing at black soil stretching out around them in every direction.
“Who are Lina and Anya?” Fia asked, tilting her head to one side.
“My nieces. They’re always hungry for a story. They were excited when they thought my sister would be leader—they’re too young to understand what it truly meant. To them, it meant adventures and gifts from far off places. So when my sister asked me to take the position instead, I promised the girls I’d make up for it by telling them about every new place I went.” He stole glances at Fia’s face as he spoke, at the way she bit down on her lip, as if she were waiting for her chance to speak. Why was he babbling on about his nieces? He wanted to tell her the truth—how she made him forget about all the deaths he’d seen on Earth and the carnage in Ohinyan. But what would she care about all that, when all she wanted was to get back to Earth? He pressed a hand against his thigh to stop from fidgeting. He’d behaved like a fool.
“You took the position for your sister?” Fia pulled at the woollen wrap where it had slid down one shoulder and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Alexander nodded. “I did. It normally falls to the eldest family member, but Mira has the girls. She never thought…she never wanted to lead.”
Fia turned to look at him, opened her mouth to speak, and then bit down on her lip again. Whatever question she wanted to ask, whatever she wanted to say, she shrugged it off and said nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her more about his family when she had none of her own, not this soon after her sister’s death.
They walked on until tufts of grass pushed through the soil in places. Alexander’s thoughts drifted to how he’d let his guard down with Fia just for a moment—he’d allowed himself to reach out for her, to wake her from a bad dream. He’d wanted to reach for her so many times back on Earth. He dragged his fingers through his hair. This was crazy. He should be focused on his duties to Ohinyan and nothing else. But instead, he fought the urge to pull her close and kiss her, over and over, until the sun disappeared over the horizon.
The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One) Page 10