Page 14 of Of Flame and Fury

In a scarlet burst, both men crumbled to ash.

Kel’s stomach roiled. Their charred bones fell to the dirt with a softthump, like leaves hitting damp ground. Gasps filled the air, though no one was rash enough to cry out and risk the phoenix’s attention.

She dug her nails into her palms as her knees wobbled, fightingback the memory trying to overlay the scene. Her father, shredded apart by an injured, wild cinder phoenix he’d tried to bandage. He was simply broken, hollow,gone, just like Oska—

The phoenix raised its crimson neck and released a guttural cry. Kel felt its temperature cool slightly as it folded back its wings, scraping heavy talons across the ground.

Sweat trickled down Kel’s spine. Without a collar, the phoenix could destroy the entire island. It was even more dangerous than a wild phoenix—this tamed beast wasn’t used to its own uninhibited power. It had clearly never felt its full strength. Though its wings stayed tucked, it began to thrash its head. The temperature around them crept up again, and the air trembled.

A few people broke free of the crowd and dashed down the street. The phoenix watched them, jerking back as if frightened.

Kel’s mind replayed the last two minutes from different angles, recalling fragments of knowledge her father had taught her.

This phoenix had allowed the cultist—a stranger—close enough to remove its collar. It also looked perplexed by its own power. The bird was a foot or two shorter than Savita, with pale red coloring and a narrow beak.

A spinel phoenix.

They were lucky it was one of the more docile subspecies; if it was a carnel or monarch phoenix, they’d all be dead already.

Kel catalogued the phoenix’s every breath, every feather, every movement, and compared them against what she knew of spinel phoenixes.

They were a defensive species with an average temperature. Omnivores, like every phoenix, but with an appetite for smaller prey—insects and grains. They were scavengers, and often trained for races.

Kel knew she could help. Sheknew.

“Dira,” she whispered, “get back inside The Ferret.”

“No way,” Dira muttered. “I’m not leaving you.”

Kel reached for her friend’s arm. “Doyouknow anything about calming spinel phoenixes?”

Dira clenched her jaw, but said nothing. Though she could anticipate a phoenix’s speed and strength on a track, it was Kel’s job to react.

Kel squeezed Dira’s elbow. “Keep an eye on me through a window. Just get somewhere safe.”

Dira groaned in protest, but turned back to The Ferret’s door. She tried to tug Bekn and Coup inside, too. The former followed with shuffled steps.

But Coup didn’t move. His amber eyes, flaring as bright as any phoenix flame, locked on Kel’s.

“Go back inside,” she repeated. “Get as many people as you can off the street.”

“We’re not in a race, tamer. You can’t order me around just yet.” Coup glanced toward the crowd. “They’re not going anywhere, either.”

Slowly, Coup moved closer to Kel’s right. “You don’t have to trustme—but trust that I know how to handle phoenixes and rowdy crowds. I can help.”

Kel didn’t have time to argue with him, and even if she was the best tamer across Cendor, there was little chance she could pull this off alone.

“We need to get its collar back on before it realizes it can fly off,” Kel said, reluctantly. “But it’s going to be hard to get close enough with this crowd circling like vultures.”

The collar lay on the ground amid the cultist’s blackened remains. No one was close enough to reach for it.

She didn’t know how she’d manage it. She’d never touched Savita—or any phoenix—without her leather gloves. But if they didn’t recollar this phoenix soon, they’d all have far greater concerns than burned hands.

Coup nodded, face taut. “I can distract them. Are you sure you can handle the phoenix?”

Kel heard none of the usual mockery in his voice.

Slowly, she nodded.

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