Fia heaved a deep sigh. Altair’s words might have comforted her more had she not been in this lifeless place. Her heart was heavy, and the dull, aching emptiness would not go away.
“Fia…” That voice, barely a whisper. The colour drained from her face. She looked around and saw familiar faces from the ship, all occupied in quiet conversation or resting from their journey. None had heard the whisper.
“I’ve found them!” It was Alexander, shouting to them through the trees. “This way.”
Fia was on her feet at once. “Are they hurt?”
“No, they’re fine, but they could do with some help—they’re just up ahead.” Alexander turned back, and the others followed him into the darkening forest. The further they walked into the island, the more blackened the trees became. The trunks gave way to expanses of twisting, rotten roots and broken boulders.
Alexander waited as Fia caught up with him. They hadn’t spoken about their kiss, but Fia still felt the easiness between them, and the relief that whatever it was they had wasn’t broken. After the storm and the funeral, there just hadn’t been the right moment to bring it up.
Something brushed against Fia’s arm, and as she moved to push it away, she felt it in her hair, too. “Ugh,” she said, wiping her hands at her sides.
As they continued, the forest around them became a grey-white blanket of cobwebs, thick and dripping with rainwater.
“Don’t be alarmed. There is no life here at all,” Alexander said.
The trees had a ghost like quality about them, and they looked to Fia like a child’s drawing of a tree, except that where the leaves should have been, there was only a delicate, translucent web.
“Over here,” Runa called out. She was covered in dirt and holding a long piece of tree root she’d made into a shovel. Malachai was nearby, carrying a large white bundle over his shoulder with one hand and holding a similar make-shift shovel in the other. He was covered in dirt, too.
“What’s going on?” Fia asked.
Malachai placed the bundle and the shovel gently on the ground, and walked over to greet them, his expression unreadable. “Runa and I could not ignore what we found here. Those of you who wish to stay and help, we would be grateful. The rest of you can go back to the ships—there is no danger here.”
A few Navarii shifted from one foot to the other, whispering amongst themselves before Altair silenced them.
“These trees are full of bodies from all walks of life in Ohinyan. They deserve a peaceful resting place, so we are burying them before we leave.” Malachai looked at the trees as he spoke.
Fia followed his gaze. As she looked more closely, she could make out odd shapes in the cobwebs—a hand or a foot, or even the remains of an empty face. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ll help.” She walked over to pick up the shovel he’d left on the floor.
Maab called out commands to the Nords. Those whose animal form was of use transformed and began digging.
“Altair, take the Navarii back to the ship. We’ll be along shortly,” Alexander said.
The Navarii departed, and the angels and Nords made for the cobweb trees.
Fia recognised some features as she began: bodies of the little cat-like people of the Aurelli, some Navarii women, and worst of all, some Nord children.
“He’s still breathing,” Runa cried out from the depths of a tree. Fia rushed over as Malachai helped Runa tear cobwebs away from the face of a man. His eyes were flat against his bones, and his smooth nose led to a lipless mouth, almost a beak. His skin was covered in thick, dark scales that were dull and dry.
“You must leave this place,” he croaked. Runa pulled at her water flask and brought it to his mouth, but he moved his head away.
“What is he saying?” Runa held him, trying to soothe him.
“He’s telling us to leave,” Fia said, kneeling beside them as she interpreted his words. “What happened here?”
“The water…my hands…” the lizard man croaked. Fia tore at the cobwebs and snatched the flask from Runa, pouring it gently onto his hands. “You must leave at once,” he repeated, a little louder this time. “Before he knows you are here, and he calls to you, too.”
The unsteady feeling of being back on the ship washed over her and she swallowed hard. “Before he calls to us,” Fia repeated, willing her hands not to shake.
“The others, they’re all dead?” His eyes were glassy, and he seemed to stare at nothing.
Fia nodded. “Who did this to you?”
The lizard man’s eyes began to flutter, and Fia poured more water onto his hands. His eyes flicked open—they were entirely black where before there had been a slither of an iris surrounded by yellow.
“Erebus,” he breathed. His eyes fell shut and his chest stilled.
“Erebus,” Fia whispered. As the word left her lips, the cobweb trees caught fire around them, one after another.
“We’re under attack,” Alexander cried. He pulled her away from the dead creature. “Maab, get the Nords back to the ship,” he commanded. A fireball landed at the lizard man’s feet, and within moments his cobweb-covered body was in flames.
“We will fight,” Maab replied, a roar for Fia to interpret.
“They’re staying,” she said, as the stench of burning bodies filled her nostrils. Where were the Makya? No shapes shot in and out of the trees, only balls of fire.
A stream of flames like molten lava shot towards them, and Fia lunged out of the way, the opposite direction from Alexander. She rolled to her feet, her eyes darting to find him, but a blazing trail of fire tore its way between them.
“Don’t fly. You’re too great a target,” she called out over the roar of the flames. Thick smoke billowed from the cobweb trees, and she held a hand over her nose and mouth. The Nords paced in their animal forms, balls of fire striking the ground beside them.
And then a fireball morphed mid-flight into a man, burning hands outstretched as he crash-landed into a black bear before him, and they tumbled through the smoke.
“No!” Fia ran towards them.
“Fia, wait,” Alexander called out, but she couldn’t see him.
The world went black. The smoke and the flames left with it, along with the cries and the commotion of everyone around her. Fia gazed at her feet. Where before there had been the muddy ground, there was nothing but black. Was this a witch’s illusion? The only sounds were her breathing and her heart. It was as if she’d been shut inside a room with no light.
“Fia!” Alexander’s voice cut through the silence, accompanied by a growl of one of the Nords and a piercing scream. And then silence again.
“Fia…”
Erebus. “You’re trapped. You can’t hurt me. This isn’t real.”
Something moved behind her in the darkness and she spun around, striking out with her elbow. Nothing. She reached for the dagger in her boot. And then another movement, to her left, and she spun again and thrust her the dagger into the air.
“Such fire inside of you. Begging for release.”
“You can’t hurt me,” Fia said, slashing her dagger at nothing.
“Many do as I ask. As you will, too, in time. Speak a word of our exchange and I will not hesitate to harm your friends.”
A ball of flame landed at her feet and turned into a man as it touched down. The darkness faded and the burning island, the smoke, and the commotion returned.
“The great Fire Mother sends for you,” the Makya said, arms outstretched.
Fia threw the dagger into his knee, and he cried out in pain, reaching down to remove the blade. Fia used the opening to swing a kick at his head and then another at his ankles, knocking him off his feet.
The dagger fell to the dirt as the Makya jerked it from his knee and he fell. Another ball of fire landed beside Fia, transforming into a woman. Smoke surrounded them, and Fia lunged for the dagger and held it outstretched as the Makya woman approached.
“Seize her! We need her alive,” the man
yelled from the ground, clutching his bleeding leg.
White wings landed between them, and Alexander touched down with force and spread his wings wide, thrusting the woman away. A white tiger and a snow leopard pounced, tearing at the two Makya until they were nothing but ribbons of flesh and splinters of bone.
Alexander was beside her at once. Fia sheathed the dagger to disguise her trembling hands, her breathing ragged as Runa and Malachai touched down beside them, too. Alexander reached for her but hesitated, his hand resting on her shoulder in an almost-embrace.
“That was the last of them, Sire,” Malachai said.
Alexander nodded, but his gaze never left Fia’s face. “Are you injured?”
Fia shook her head. “I’m fine.” She was anything but fine. She wanted to tell him what had happened, about the incident in Turaunt and about all the times Erebus had been inside her head, but now she couldn’t say any of it. I will not hesitate to harm your friends. Erebus’s words rang in her ears.
“We have to go, now. Tell the Nords to meet us back at the ship” Alexander said.
Fia did as he asked, and Maab roared in response.
Alexander didn’t wait for her reply; he lifted her into his arms just as he’d done back in Bridgevale and pushed up through the canopy away from the flames.
…
The only casualties were Makya. Six had attacked, and the Nords had made short work of them, despite the commotion.
They sailed for days after leaving the island, marking it on their maps, so they might tell others of what they had seen. The Navarii called it Ohanza, which Altair loosely translated as Shadowland, and in the days that passed, the walls of the ship were filled with Navarii drawings of the cobweb trees and the Makya attack.
Fia paced her cabin. It had been a trap all along, the fallen airship, the bodies. A trap for her. She peered out of her porthole, her breath fogging up the glass. The days grew shorter, and as they sailed further south, the cold air and the ice covered the surface of the ships. At night, in the distance, the sky was tinged with an electric green hue, lighting up the horizon.
She’d told no one about Erebus, about how she could hear him. Was it because she could understand the creatures of Ohinyan that she should hear his whispers, too? And as the days had gone by, she could understand the Nords more and more—even though they all spoke in a different way, their mouths or their beaks forming words differently, Fia understood almost all of it. It felt as normal as speaking to Altair. What part of any of this is normal?
Shouts cried out above deck. Fia tried to hurry herself, but it was difficult to climb into all the layers and furs Runa had bought for her, but without them the cold air would be intolerable. As she surfaced, she followed the crew’s gaze. In the distance, jutting up from the horizon amongst dense fog, were enormous icebergs. A little wave of nausea ran over her. The ships didn’t look strong enough to break through ice. They were going to have to sail very carefully.
Fia pulled her coat tighter around her. She’d taken to wearing the coat from Arc’s Emporium to keep warm. It smelt of animal hide and burnt hair, but it was waterproof and lined with soft fur, and with the hood up, she was well protected from the burn of the icy wind.
“Eyes open for the marker, everyone!” Altair called out. “Alexander, can you and the others fly on ahead and look for the pass leading to the dock?” With a few steps, Alexander was airborne, followed closely by Runa and Malachai. Fia ran to the gunwale and watched as their silhouettes disappeared into the fog.
One of the Nord’s cried out in her form as a bird, circling above them.
“She sees the marker,” Fia shouted, “a blue flag up ahead, keep right. She said the ice spreads deep and wide beneath the surface of the water.”
Fia stared in awe. The icebergs were vast. The fog cleared, and revealed ice stretched out on either side of the ship until it disappeared again into more fog. The marker, a few torn pieces of indigo rag, flapped wildly in the wind and marked the entrance to a great passage ahead of them through the ice.
The Nord flying above called out again as several large chunks of ice broke away from the walls and fell into the water below, landing in the water with a crack.
The water reflected the ice in every direction, and as the fog dispersed again and they sailed further into the passage, the air was bright and light around them. In places the ice was streaked with blue ribbons of mineral or deposit, creating beautiful, swirling patterns on the walls that pressed up around them.
Great archways of ice stretched over and above the ships, some crossing each other and some creating unusual shapes. Up ahead, Alexander sat patiently in a gap that had formed perfectly in the centre of an archway, beside another of the blue markers.
Fia found herself focusing on the fact that he still wore nothing but his linen trousers, as if it were a summer’s day. They still hadn’t talked about their kiss. She felt somehow, that the closer she let herself get to Alexander, the more Erebus might use that in whatever way he could.
As the ships passed beneath him, Alexander flew down to the deck. “The ice is very fragile in places. Runa and Malachai have gone on ahead.”
They sailed onwards with care, and here and there they passed traces of ships that hadn’t made it through; part of a stern or a mast or a crate wedged into the ice.
The passage began to widen, and the walls of ice seemed to stretch higher than before, until they reached a wide opening, and the ice peaked into an enormous archway up ahead, lined with blue markers.
Fia narrowed her eyes to make out the shapes of the silhouettes over the archway. Her breath caught in her throat.
Beside each marker stood an armed guard, spears held ready to attack.
Chapter Twenty
Noor
“Brothers,” Lorn hissed through gritted teeth from her seat in the great hall. Her shoulders tensed as the twins approached.
Noor stood guard close by. Her illusion had been easy to maintain with regular rest. Only Raiaan had questioned her, once, about why it was she who always followed Lorn. Lorn hadn’t seemed to care—perhaps she mistook if for flattery on Noor’s part after their encounter in her bedchambers, an incident which Lorn had not mentioned or acted on since.
“We are half a day away from Nadar, sister, and you will talk to the council as we agreed. Do whatever it takes to gain their trust and their allegiance. We are stronger united if we are to stand a chance of taking Alythia under our control.” Jerum was very authoritative when he wanted to be.
Lorn opened her mouth to retaliate, but he’d already raised a hand, averting her murderous gaze. The decision had been made. Raiaan remained silent under their brother’s watchful eye and Noor wondered why he always said so little.
“Do this for us. Visit the council in Nadar, and everything we desire will be ours soon enough.” Jerum smiled. “Come brother, let us leave our sister in quiet contemplation of her visit.”
They departed in silence, without so much as a glance back in Lorn’s direction. Noor could feel the loathing dripping off of Lorn, even from where she stood.
Everywhere they went, Erebus showed Lorn visions of Fia and Alexander embracing: in the reflection of the corridor walls before she met with her brothers, in the great urn’s flames, even as she barked orders at the Aurelli. And with each new vision, they enraged Lorn to a point beyond control.
“Your time is coming, great Fire Mother,” the darkness whispered, the sound of his voice sending a chill down Noor’s spine.
…
When the airship anchored in the skyline of Nadar, Lorn left her brothers behind without saying a word. Noor and three more guards followed her in silence as she made her way amongst the city. The sky was dark for such an early hour—the time of the second sun was almost at an end.
Nadar was a dreary place, trapping shadows and refracting the light. The looming buildings reached above the streets, their obsidian exteriors lavishly carved with reliefs of all descriptions: battles, off
erings, great gates, and strange creatures.
Here and there, a cluster of raw shards of brilliant emerald adorned the buildings, jutting skywards at various levels and intervals, and reflecting the dark sky in its glass-like finish. The buildings themselves were odd shapes: some buildings were tall and narrow, and others were short with curved emerald ceilings, broken up by the angular shards protruding out of them. Noor detested it. She longed for the comforts of her forest, for the feel of a warm fire of her own making glowing against her skin.
Lorn clicked her tongue against her teeth, and Noor bit down on the smile that was breaking. Nadar was like an empty shell, or at least that’s what she’d thought on her last mission here. A mission where she and Silla had disguised themselves as guards, and Silla… She pushed the thought of him away, deep, deep down, so she didn’t lose her grip on her illusion. If she lost control for even a moment, they’d see her for who she really was, and Lorn would destroy her in an instant.
The stone streets and buildings were built amongst a series of canals, where in the place of water was a thick, black liquid. It was a magma-like tar, bubbling loudly as steam escaped from noisy pockets of air. Cracks in the surface revealed the orange glow of molten lava below. The buildings were impervious to it, just as the Makya’s clothes were fireproof, too. How they transmuted with their garments intact, Noor had never quite worked out.
They passed the crumbling remains of the Nadar palace that Lorn had destroyed not long ago, in another of her outbreaks. Such displays were not uncommon amongst the Makya, but in destroying the palace, the repercussions had halted Ohinyan’s chances of coming together. Lorn barely raised an eyebrow at the ruin.
The Third Sun (Daughter of the Phoenix Book One) Page 17