Page 95 of Of Flame and Fury

The fire meant that the objects inside were stillalive. No matter how small, no matter the detachment from the phoenix, Cristo had preserved phoenix magic.

How was this possible?

Kel edged away. She bumped into the nearest desk and sent a stack of papers flying across the floor. Her trembling fingers made it impossible to pick them up.

She needed to get out of here. She needed to getSavitaout.

Savita… who was nearing a rebirth. Whose ashes Cristo could harvest.

Kel turned and stumbled for the exit. The closet’s darkness quickly enveloped her and she skidded into a bucket, sending a mop clattering to the ground.

Heart drumming in her ears, Kel fled the lab. She didn’t know what Cristo planned to do with the magic, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was Savita.

Kel sprinted down the hall, limbs heavy and aching, every movement jarring her hip. She raced through a maze of corridors before finally,finally, spotting a familiar hall.

The halls near the aviary were empty; the one scrap of luck she’d had tonight. She didn’t know where Cristo had disappeared to, but he’d been wandering through the far eastern end of the building. He was nowhere near Savita’s aviary.

And, Kel realized, as she tore toward the glass dome, neither was Savita.

Kel didn’t have her security pass to let her in, but she didn’t need it. She moved around the dome’s walls, squinting up into the trees. There was no sign of Sav. No flash of red among the green, no rustling in the leaves.

Kel’s mind raced back to what she’d overheard.

We moved her yesterday.

Had they been talking about Savita?

She flitted through the other scraps of conversation she’d heard. Cristo had mentioned aninducement. They must have been talkingabout Sav’s rebirth. The fear coursing through Kel begged her to slow, to think. Instead, she ran, her hip screaming in protest. She knew exactly where Cristo would be keeping Savita.

As she sprinted, Kel told herself that Savita—for better or worse—was drawing too much publicity. She was on the council’s radar. If she suddenly vanished, Cristo would have to answer to all of Cendor.

That was what Kel told herself, even as she stumbled away from Sav’s aviary. Even as a shadow pooled along the ground around the next corner and she couldn’t stop fast enough.

Someone with rough hands knocked the wind from her lungs and shoved something coarse over her head.

“I’m so sorry, Kelyn,” a voice—Cristo’s—said.

Darkness consumed her.

FORTY-ONE

Kel fought against the cold hands urging her forward. She tried to kick, to fight, but the electricity in her veins had fizzled out. All she had left was fear, ringing through her ears like a distant phoenix scream.

“Let me go!” Kel screamed.

No response. She tried to keep count of their steps and turns, but there were too many. Where were they taking her?

Eventually, she was forced to a jarring halt.

“I won’t keep you here long, Kelyn.”

Cristo. His words were gentle and kind, just like every other lie he’d told her.

“You deserve the truth,” he added.

Then the cold hands were shoving her forward, and the bag over her head was ripped away.

Kel squinted through an unexpected brightness. She’d half-expected her surroundings to be filled with mad scientists, weapons and uniformed soldiers. A skeletal shrine to the Alchemists themselves.

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