Page 83 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“I have seen it,”Mordecai said, but there was something detached in his tone.

Marvellas crouched to her younger self, and Zaiana’s breath was becoming uneven like the darkling’s.

“Such exquisite eyes,”the Spirit marveled. Her head tilted up to Mordecai to say,“A likeness we never thought we’d see again.”

Mordecai’s hand tightened on her younger self’s protectively. But why?

Marvellas lifted the necklace the darkling was playing with nervously. An eight-pointed star. The male beside her took one small step.

“Where did you get that?”

“I-I don’t know what it is,” she said honestly, unsure why that would pique his interest.

“What do you have there?”Marvellas asked.

“It’s from her mother,”Mordecai said.

“Where is she now?”

“Dead.”

The darkling cried when the Spirit yanked the chain, snapping it from her neck. She tossed it aside, and her younger self strained to pick it up.

“No sentiments. You know this,”Marvellas scolded.

Tears fell from the darkling’s eyes, and her lip wobbled, but she stayed silent.

Marvellas reached out a hand to cup her cheek.“No one is worth your tears, child. There is much for you to learn so you’ll never be hurt by such pitiful things again. Starting with this.”

She tapped a finger to her younger self’s chest, a dark claim on the fluttering, tiny life in her chest.

“I was born without a heart,” Zaiana said, unable to comprehend this vision.

She shook her head, bewildered.

Marvellas tried to reach for the darkling, but she jerked away,hugginginto Mordecai’s side.

Zaiana stumbled back. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be right.

When the Spirit reached again, with a look too frightening to the darkling, she screamed. Purple lightning expelled from her tiny body, and Marvellas hissed at it. The darkling was running before the flare of light had died out.

Running and running.

That heart in her chest drummed to a war song of defiance and bravery.

Running and running.

Lightning still shot from her in reckless, untrained bursts, cracking through the eerie woodland. She didn’t know where togo, only that she hoped someone would find her. Someone good and safe.

The vision turned to flurries of color as Zaiana fell to her knees in her plumes of smoke. Her hands fisted her hair, tightening, trying to draw the pain from the inside out, but it was festering inside her too fast.

Thunder boomed more violently, and darkness stole all the light. Her subconsciousness battered her worse than ever before with a storm so thick it consumed her, filling her lungs so she couldn’t breathe. Seizing her bones so she couldn’t move. Ice started to coat her, until there were hands on her…and they were warm.

“I’m here,” the male said.

“Why!” she cried. This emotion-filled mess wasn’t her. This couldn’t be her, or she would never survive.

No one is worth your tears.

---