Page 128 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“I don’t know who you are or why you’re here. I don’t really care. What I desire is to get back to where I need to be.”

Faythe’s mind pulsed with a new ache. He wasn’t making any sense. She scrambled to recall the very little knowledge she had about the Spirit’s son.

“You’re not supposed to be in this realm,” she said, though it felt foolish to say when he was undeniably right here.

“Exactly.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“So how are you here?” she dared to ask.

Unfathomable, maybe. But Nik had been right when he’d said they couldn’t throw anything out of the realm of possibility anymore. Her denial only worked against her, so Faythe would play along.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as if it pained and frustrated him to recall the events that had led him here. “I fell under a curse in my realm,” he admitted. “I suppose by some trick of fate, my mind crossed here to protect itself.”

His mind.Faythe didn’t understand what that meant. He was physical, right in front of her.

“When your curse breaks, you’ll be gone again?”

“I hope so.”

“How long do you have?”

That turned his expression dark, and he was quite frightening. There was an edge of unpredictable volatility about him that kept her on edge.

“For the sake of both realms, I hope not long. I have someone I need to get back to, and I will find a way to tear the fabric of the universe if I’m kept away from her for too long.”

Faythe shuddered involuntarily at the promise. She didn’t know how he would achieve it, but she believed he could.

She tucked her knees to her chest, contemplating. If she chose to believe his incredible story of crossing realms, she had to figure out if he could be of help against his mother. It may be selfish thinking, but she had to consider he could be leverage or an advantage somehow.

He withdrew something from his pocket and began to flip it absentmindedly in his palm. When Faythe caught a glimpse of the brass, it was her turn to wear the shock.

“Where did you get that?” she demanded.

The fae looked at her and then down at the item she stared at. “I think someone sent it to me. There was a note inside telling me I would need it to get home someday.” He frowned at it,flipping it over, and Faythe caught a glimpse of the unmistakable symbol of Marvellas on the back. “It was in my pocket when I fell into the death sleep curse. At the time, I had the delusional thought it might prevent the curse.”

Faythe was shivering, but not from the cold. “Do you know who sent the note?”

“It was signed by someone of the name Aesira. That doesn’t happen to be you, does it?”

Her palm cupped her forehead. She didn’t have Aesira’s memory of that note, but the compass…she’d found that within an abandoned store in Rhyenelle. The Dresair had asked for it, and Faythe had thrown it into the mirror before she’d shattered them all, freeing the Dresair, who’d adopted the life of Presilla. For now.

Sneaky, meddling creature.

But how had he found it?

“Your reaction is telling me yes, and now I’m very intrigued,” he said.

“Not exactly,” she murmured.

“I’ve never been fond of riddles.”

“My soul was once Aesira. Now I’m Faythe Ashfyre.”

Those two words may as well have been a blade since his pacing stopped abruptly, as if she’d plunged one into his chest. His amber eyes sliced into her.

“Your father…?”

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