Page 53 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“I have adopted the name Presilla. This body is the fourth I’ve inhabited, and I think I’ll keep it. Many gawk upon my beauty—it’s a power in itself.”

“You killed her.”

The Dresair shrugged. “I’ve immortalized her.”

Faythe’s anger began to climb. “What is your goal?”

“As with all creatures, goals are an ever-shifting tide.”

She would have expected her friends to have come in after her by now, but all was so quiet despite the thin purple sheets of the tent.

“So what are you doing now, here in this town?”

“Selling fortunes to make mine. It is rather entertaining to bewitch mortals so desperate for direction on their aimless paths.”

“I would have thought you’d have your sights on bigger ambitions.”

“Do you know what a Dresair is?” she said in a silky voice.

“I met one first in High Farrow. It said it was a keeper of knowledge, holder of precious things, and?—”

“Traveler of realms,” Presilla finished for her. “Do you know how onebecomesa Dresair?”

A cold chill slithered up Faythe’s spine. Presilla smiled.

“Not everyone who tries to Realm-Walk makes it through. Those who fail become trapped in an endless space. They lose their name, then their memory, then their sanity. Then they become servants to the void between all places.”

Faythe shivered. “You were once…mortal?”

“Yes. I don’t recall which realm I came from or why I fled it. I will never remember what species I was, what gender, what appearance I had, or even how long I was trapped in that void. Clearly, I was not equipped for—or deemed worthy of—passage into another mortal realm. It takes a grant from one of many primordial beings, and there is often a high price to pay, which is why we as Dresairs demand something, or give something unwanted, in return for knowledge or items.”

Faythe found her explanation both fascinating and horrifying. “It’s not a coincidence you’re here, is it? You could have fled anywhere, but you’re conveniently right here.”

Presilla set down her pipe and shifted onto her knees. She gestured with her hand for Faythe to do the same, and she felt compelled to obey, settling down on the other side of the table, where a glass sphere hovered, held up by nothing.

“Your song has been sung since the dawn of time,” she said, her voice trance-like. “Bound by strength, her fire will burn. Shaped by darkness, with no return. Spirits will clash as the fates demand. And the cost will be life, torn from hand.”

Her breath held.

Presilla continued, “There are many ways this war will end. There are many where you win, but only one leads to all your heart desires.”

Faythe’s heart began to thunder. “I don’t want to know. I can’t know,” she said, beginning to panic.

The last time she had been given knowledge from the Dresair in High Farrow about one of her friends dying, it had sent her into a terrified, maddening spiral. Ever since, she had been tormented by the thought things could have turned out differently for Caius if she hadn’t known.

“I do not wish to harm you, Faythe Ashfyre. If I told you exactly how to win, you would fail, because you would try to prevent the sacrifices you will face.”

“Stop,” she croaked. Faythe couldn’t bear it. She’d known war wasn’t without risk and losses, but she couldn’t do this again—couldn’t know someone she loved was going to die.

“You have to realize that should you lose, should you fall, they will all fall. You are theone.”

“I don’t want to be,” she whispered.

Presilla’s features softened, her hand waved over the glass sphere, and it flooded with whorls of red and amber. “You have to be,” she said.

They watched it create an image so beautiful Faythe choked on her sob.

Faythe only saw her back in the moving image as she stood between two lines of Rhyenelle soldiers holding their swords high like an arch. That wasn’t the most wonderful part. It was the two small children in her arms, their heads resting on each ofher shoulders, and Reylan by her side, holding an older child—a daughter with hair as silver as his that flowed in the wind. She could see none of their faces, and she wished for them all to turn around.

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