Page 277 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“Then have you come to escort me to the mirrors?”

Reylan’s jaw heightened. Nyte served no use to them here. If anything, Reylan could only see him as a potential threat if he decided to join his mother’s cause. It was clear his allegiance wasn’t with them nor anyone. He was a liability.

“Gladly,” Reylan said, passing him to lead the way toward the library.

He didn’t particularly enjoy venturing back down into the passages under High Farrow’s library. Nik had already informed him he’d ordered the Magestone that had once lined the corridor toward the room of mirrors to be carefully mined. He had various blacksmiths working on turning it into as many weapons as possible to be used in their war.

When their reflections were cast back to them from a hundred angles, Reylan sharpened his caution for the trickster of a creature that could taunt them at any moment.

“This is it then?” Nyte asked, standing casually with his hands in his pockets.

“I thought you’d be more enthused.”

“I’ve learned not to get hopeful of the words of others. I’d be none the wiser if you’d led me down here as a trap and these are nothing but ordinary mirrors.”

“Then why did you follow so easily if you distrust me so?”

“Because I do not fear you.”

Reylan gave nothing away. Reacting in offense served for nothing. It might even prove why he shouldn’t be feared. Instead Reylan leveled Nyte with his cool demeanor.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he said, beginning to turn.

“Has Faythe told you she’ll die too if she kills my mother with her ruin?”

Reylan stiffened, sliding a warning glare at Nyte.

Nyte added, “Well, anyone who does will die, but in the short time I’ve gotten to know her heroic qualities, I would wager she planned to keep that secret to make the sacrifice herself.”

“Why would you tell me this?”

“A parting gift, if you will. Believe it or not, the only reason I won’t stay a moment longer than I have to in this realm is because I too have a mate to return to. Had she the same foolish idea, I’d want to know and make sure she was the farthest person away from plunging that ruin into the heart of a Goddess and going down with them.”

Reylan might not trust him, but he believed him. As it was exactly the type of thing Faythe would do.

Gods,he loved her. And she drove him to madness. She may not be willing to be selfish, but he could be. He would not lose her, and she would not lose him.

As he left Nyte, not staying to see what taunts and riddles the Dresair would humor him with before taking him through, Reylan was beholden to the insight. For if this war was won at the cost of his Phoenix, Reylan would start a new one in his grief.

CHAPTER SEVENTY

Zaiana

Zaiana hadn’t known Faythe’s human friend, Marlowe, but in her wake, the human Oracle may have provided more for their gain in this war they were yet to discover. Starting with the dagger to revert Nerida’s power back to her. They just had to find the pesky little dark fae, herhalf-sisterEdith, before she got killed by her own stupidity and Nerida’s magick was lost for good.

The family term didn’t settle with an inkling of sentiment. Discovering she was a blood relative might have spurred her violence even more. What she’d done was a coward’s way to power.

Edith wanted Zaiana’s lightning, and she would make sure the dark fae felt the full force of her storm before they used the dagger.

She crouched with Faythe Ashfyre near the entrance Zaiana used at the edge of the Mortus Mountains. It wasn’t used as often, but she didn’t want to take any chances of being seen yet. If Edith wasn’t here, Zaiana still planned to kill all five mastersbefore she left. She liked to think some part them had always known Zaiana would return as their demise and that they slept with one eye open.

“No one has come in or out in ten minutes,” Faythe hissed. Her small, antsy movements were beginning to grate on Zaiana’s nerves.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Zaiana grumbled.

Faythe didn’t defend that fact. The human-turned-fae was a like a firecracker and had always been able to unleash that fiery side of herself—had to, or she most certainly would not still be alive. Though it made her insufferable in a task of patience and quiet.

“I have the dagger.”

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