Page 22 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Someone to teach her.

A memory unlocked in her mind so clearly then she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner. Or perhaps she had, insome part of her subconscious that had always known Zaiana was important. That it was crucial they secured her to their side.

“Find the teacher who tames the storm.”

Aurialis had told her that.

Her vacant stare had settled on Kyleer as she’d pieced together that riddle, and he was becoming far too in tune with her thoughts. His pinched brow of concern smoothed out as if Zaiana’s name had been pushed from her brain and was scribbled across her forehead.

“We couldnevertrust Zaiana on our side. Even if we kidnapped her, forced her, she’s far too cunning and would find a way to turn anything we tried to learn from her against us,” Kyleer protested, his voice so torn with hurt under the firmness.

“Taking back any kingdom means nothing if they use Zaiana and the ruins to destroy them. Worse, Marvellas’s goal is to destroy her own ruin, and then we havenohope of ridding the world of her. None.”

Faythe’s daunting dread grew the longer she pondered the options.

“We all need to get some sleep. This kind of decision on where to move next isn’t going to be solved in a night,” Nerida advised. Her eyes turned to pity, casting over Faythe. “I have a tonic, and with my magick, it’ll send you into a deep enough rest that your Nightwalking shouldn’t be able to surface.”

“It works,” Nik confirmed, giving the healer a smile of gratitude.

Faythe nodded. “Thank you.”

Kyleer stood after draining his drink and wandered over to the ensemble in the corner who had paused their music for a break. Faythe’s gaze caught on the quiet fae in their company. Samara—she’d learned her name. Her elegance and poise almost seemed out of place among them, but it was clear she was trying to fit in, and Lycus whispered occasional assurances to her.

Kyleer returned as the small band took up their playing stances again, and soft music began to fill the space.

“I’ll be heading back to the camp for however many peaceful hours I can get,” he announced.

“We’ll get some rooms upstairs.” Lycus spoke, guiding Samara out of the booth.

Faythe gave a nod to them, wanting to finish her drink before she attempted sleep.

The song the players wove grew on her drowsiness, and she leaned back against the booth as the words began.

She was so exhausted in her mind. Every thought was misery. Every step was hollow. Peace would never find her until she foundhim.

Nik slouched down with her and lifted his tankard. Faythe huffed, clinking hers against it—a cheers to their matching heartache—before they drank.

“I always pictured we’d be meeting again under far better circumstances,” he mused sadly.

Faythe leaned her head on his shoulder. “As Faythe and the fae guard in the woods?”

Nik’s light chuckle was a brightness bursting against the clouds of darkness around her heart.

Tarly and Nerida stayed with them in the main room, which had quietened in the small hours. Faythe’s lids fluttered even without a tonic. They should retire for the night, and at least with the healer’s help, she didn’t have to fear it.

Still, she wanted to bask in this moment with Nik, and she tuned in to the song as the bustle began to fade away.

Come fly the Phoenix, come soar the sun,

Fall a monarch’s reign, another will return.

Come fly the Griffin, come rally the night,

Answer all and stand as one, together they will fight.

The song kept going, and some lines would repeat. Faythe nestled in closer to Nik as she felt herself drifting with it.

“How long has it been since you slept?” Nik asked.

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