Page 165 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Augustine, despite Izaiah’s accusing reception, smiled brightly, tipping his tricorn to reveal more of his blue eyes. His wooden leg tapped in a steady rhythm toward them. He’d long mastered his balance with it.

“Ah, my boy, pondering reason for other people’s motives is a sure spiral to madness.”

Izaiah’s expression flattened. “I’ve never been a boy.”

Gus came right up to him, patting a large hand to his shoulder as if they were old friends. No—in fact, Gus looked at him like he did see a child, though not in any condescending manner. He couldn’t figure out what had the pirate so high-spirited considering what he’d walked into.

“Who are you?” Tynan asked with an edge of hostility.

“Augustine. And you are Tynan Silverfair, Zaiana’s second-in-command.”

That only added to Tynan’s growing tension.

“You should really let people introduce themselves. It’s creepy when you do it,” Izaiah said. He added to Tynan, “Gushere is a pirate, and despite appearing human, he’s a centuries-old Oracle. Marlowe’s biological father.”

Augustine’s smile fell, and his blue gaze flicked over his shoulder. Izaiah realized too late he’d blurted too much, having not felt the quiet presence behind him.

Izaiah turned, finding Marlowe at the end of the hall, staring at them all with wide doe eyes as if she’d been caught somewhere wrong.

“Shit,” Izaiah muttered. “Marlowe?—”

She turned away, disappearing around the corner swiftly, without another word.

“Marlowe,” Augustine echoed as he stared after the ghost of her.

“You didn’t know she was here?” Izaiah asked.

Augustine drew in a long breath. He didn’t answer.

Tynan asked instead, “Does Malin know of your arrival?”

“I don’t think I would’ve made it past his threshold if he didn’t.”

“This castle isn’this,” Izaiah muttered under his breath.

“The pretense keeps you alive. Let me warn you, he’s hanging onto his sanity by a thread, and none of you are safe in his volatile proximity.”

Izaiah wasn’t afraid of Malin Ashfyre, but he couldn’t deny Gus’s warning shivered down his spine. He had noticed something different about the prince who was growing worse each day. He’d always managed to carry himself so composed and arrogant…but he was slipping. Izaiah couldn’t be sure if it was the Phoenix Blood he kept consuming when he couldn’t hold the conscious mind ability for more than a day, or if it was the weight of his stolen crown that was spiraling him to paranoia and madness.

“Why have you come?” Izaiah asked.

“To offer my ships and allegiance. Malin was most forthcoming to it, as he needs all the allies he can get with the resistance to his claim on the throne.”

He soured at that, slowly shedding his warmth toward the pirate that had barely been a trickle to begin with. Augustine was a fickle bastard. He played with his gift.

“He has all the nobles backing his claim,” Tynan pointed out.

“I know. Quite cunning, he was, to achieve that and pin Faythe as an outsider responsible for her father’s downfall. But the people are not led by politics and scheming but with their hearts and beliefs. They still spread the tales of Faythe Ashfyre, the human turned fae, Agalhor’s declared heir, the Phoenix Queen. They have not given up on their belief in her, and that is a power greater than nobility Malin is fighting against.”

That was a statement of inspiration at least.

Izaiah glanced down the deserted hall even though he couldn’t sense anyone nearby. He was beginning to grow uneasy talking about such things in the open.

“Where are you going now?” Izaiah asked.

“Well, it seems I have a daughter to meet.”

Izaiah winced, apologetic for that sensitive knowledge he’d let slip unknowingly when she was near. However, Gus didn’t seem fazed by it, as if he knew she would be there. Nothing was out of the realm of suspicion with this man.

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