Page 281 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Gasps and murmurs broke out among the darklings, but she focused solely on the four masters on this level, who targeted her with hateful stares.

“Zaiana Silverfair,” one drawled. “We’re well aware of all your actions outside. Your failure in capturing the Heir of Marvellas left you at the mercy of the enemy you have sold yourself to,” Master Eon said.

“You’ve hidden yourselves away under this mountain for millennia, too afraid to face the outside world. Who is really a slave and prisoner?”

“Why have you come back?” Master Corrik inquired.

“To kill you all,” she answered plainly.

They laughed at her. Mocked her. She’d long since hardened her mind to the grating jeers of their bitter voices.

“You heard about your little companions then? Truthfully, I never understood what you saw in those you chose to defend you. Your judgment has always been weak,” said Master Eon.

“Yet you could never kill me,” Zaiana taunted back, realizing now why, in all the times she’d thought her rebellion would earn her death, they’d spared her. “You know my true name. You know my father. You know I am Zaiana Vesaria, heir to Valgard.”

Every admittance of her heritage burned in her throat, but the masters were bound by the will of Mordecai, and that was what had kept her alive.

Their aged faces contorted in anger and hatred.

“You cannot kill us. He will not allow it,” Master Neisah hissed.

“I’m willing to take my chances,” Zaiana said. Then she struck.

Lightning shot from her fingers, slamming into Corrik. In the same breath she threw another bolt with her other hand toward Neisah. At the break of chaos, to her relief, the darklings began to scatter, some flying to escape through the opening above, some running through the halls. Zaiana kept focus on the masters as best she could, but when adult dark fae flooded intothe pit, beginning to grab the scrambling darklings, Zaiana lost her momentum as they begankillingthe young.

“Kill them all,” Nephra ordered, too calm and cold, before she swooped down to the ground.

An amber glow illuminated the dark walls, dropping down. Faythe Ashfyre joined her side, as furious as she over the cowardly bloodshed of those incapable of protecting themselves.

“The blood and brutality of this place ends here,” Faythe seethed.

Lightning scattered through Zaiana’s body. It had been building like a bated breath since she began combing through these mountains. It vibrated through her like a second force of life. Then…Zaiana never thought she’d be reaching for the hand of Faythe Ashfyre. Lightning sparked between their fingertips, and when their palms clasped, the lightning erupted through both of them. It built to a catastrophic force, and they braced, conjuring as much as they could as two vessels of a deadly storm. It spilled from them in cracks that struck the walls and shook the ground beneath them. Brutal gales of wind brewed around them. When they were at their limit, they kneeled simultaneously, slamming of their free palms to the ground.

The mountain gave a violent roar at the impact as powerful as a God’s strike from the heavens. The stone split into a web of small cracks while deadly rocks rained down. Zaiana kept pushing as much magick as she could, and Faythe did not falter either.

Through the wind and rock that crashed and stormed around them, Zaiana caught the five cowardly rodents breaking into a passage, trying to escape. Zaiana’s blood boiled.

“Hold it as long as you can,” Zaiana yelled to Faythe over the chaos. She severed their connection, racing after the masters. They would not get away.

This passage only led to one place, and Zaiana caught up to the masters just as they were preparing to fly through the opening above their council room. The ground trembled dangerously. If she wasn’t quick, she risked being buried alive with them.

“You can’t outrun the blade you sharpened,” Zaiana said coldly.

Nephra stood closer than the rest, absolutely seething with jealousy and rage. She’d always hated Zaiana most, and she’d always thought it was Mordecai’s favor that made her so bitter. Now it made sense.

“You were in love with him,” Zaiana said to her.

“He was in love with me too,” Nephra bit out. Her dark eyes turned manic with her laughter. “I gave him a daughter just as capable as you.”

That came as a shock. If Nephra had been pregnant, she’d hidden it very well. Then again, Zaiana could recall several times months had gone by without her seeing Master Nephra. She’d always noticed since those months went by with the fewest punishments.

Then it slipped into place, so clear she didn’t think she could be wrong.

“Edith,” she muttered.

Nephra smiled cruelly. Thought it was the flick of her eyes over Zaiana’s shoulder that alerted her to the blade she twisted to avoid. Zaiana gripped the wrist by her head, bending and throwing the assailant over her shoulder. Her knee dug into their chest, pushing the blade still gripped in their hand over their neck.

Zaiana stared into dark brown eyes, with inky black hair spilling across the stone, similar to her own.

---