Elric’s eyes narrowed. ‘How?’
Arden tsked. ‘Ah, ah. Not how the game is played, my friend. Let me go north. After that, we talk.’
Elric muttered a curse beneath his breath and sliced cleanly through the ropes. Kage knew enough of Fae bindings to recognise their magic. There would have been no escaping them by force. The moment his own were severed, he flexed his hands and rubbed at his wrists, the skin beneath bearing the faint burn of enchantment.
‘Fine,’ Elric grumbled. ‘We’ll let you go, just this once. For old time’s sake, Arden.’
Arden dipped his head, the gesture subtle but sincere.
‘If we’re heading north, we avoid the eastern roads,’ Elric added. ‘Word will spread. They’ll come hunting for you.’
‘Splendid,’ Arden drawled, then tossed a glance over his shoulder at Kage, gesturing for him to follow. The door opened into a narrow passageway that led them into a tavern, dimly lit and crowded with murmuring Fae. The moment Kage stepped into view, the room fell to a hush, all eyes drawn to the wyverian among them like wolves scenting a storm.
‘You weren’t particularly helpful back there, you know,’ Arden said breezily.
Kage grunted in reply, moving towards the tavern’s entrance. A quiet exhale escaped him at the sight beyond: the wolf and the crow waited patiently, seated like carved statues in the dust. Someone, perhaps on Elric’s orders, had left an entire sheep for the great wolf. Kage arched a brow.
‘Your pets,’ Arden remarked, ‘are no more useful than you.’
‘Come back in,’ Elric called from behind. ‘We’ll buy you both a drink.’
Kage hesitated. ‘No.’
‘It’s a free drink,’ Arden coaxed.
‘They tried to kill us.’
Arden laughed, that familiar irreverent glint in his eye as he clapped a hand on Kage’s arm. ‘Oh, Kage Blackburn, you’re going to have to learn something rather quickly if you intend to keepmycompany.’ He flashed that mischievous, smug and infuriatingly boyish grin. ‘Absolutelyeveryonewants to kill me.’
There has long been a never-ending debate over which beast came first. Wyverns or dragons.
I’ve never found the question particularly important, though Hadrian can speak of it for hours, his voice alight with curiosity. Some claim it was the wyverns, for Hades created the wyverians. Others insist it was the dragons, born of the Sun God’s fire, and that the drakonians came first.
But I’ve come to realise that it is always men who place such weight upon these matters.
Tabitha Wysteria
‘Farahi-sahraa!’
The cry dragged Alina from slumber like a storm tearing through silk. In an instant, instinct overrode reason as her hand shot beneath her pillow, fingers closing around the hilt of a hidden blade. She surged upward, swift and silent, pinning the intruder to the bed with the cold kiss of steel pressed against their throat. Brown eyes, wild with sleep and threat, met familiar ones. Isla’s.
Alina’s breath caught. She blinked and withdrew the blade at once, the pounding of her heart deafening in her ears. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, voice hoarse with embarrassment.
Isla reached for her, a quiet offer of comfort. But Alina flinched away, recoiling as though the very air around her had turned to flame. She couldn’t bear touch anymore, not even the gentle kind. Not now. Hessa had taught her how to welcome closeness, how to find peace in it. But Hessa was gone, and Alina’s skin remembered that loss far too well.
Isla slid off the bed, saying nothing, only nodding with the kind of understanding that needed no words.
Alina shed her nightclothes and slipped into phoenixian fighting garb. The garments were made of thin, supple material that breathed with her movements, the design both practical and elegant. Strips of reinforced leather wrapped around her waist, shoulders, and arms, places where protection mattered. The arm bands were particularly useful, fashioned to hold blades snug against her skin. Across the back, more leather allowed for weapons to be fastened with ease. The ensemble moved with her, light as desert wind and twice as deadly.
‘You need to see this,’ Isla said once Alina was ready, her tone low with urgency. She reached for Alina’s arm out of habit, then remembered and let go, simply gesturing for her to follow.
Alina stepped out onto the terrace, granted to her along with the palace room near Mareena’s quarters. It was a beautiful space, adorned with hand-painted walls that told ancient stories, tales of the Sun God gifting light to the world, coaxing golden crops from once-barren earth. To one side, a private bathing pool shimmered in the soft morning light. But it was the terrace that drew her forward, the breeze brushing against her face, and the endless sprawl of the city below, waiting to be seen.
‘What is it?’ Alina asked as she followed Isla out onto the terrace. Both Dunayans had firmly refused the phoenixian fighting garb, instead opting to launder their own desert-worn clothes and don simpler dresses while the sun dried the fabric.
The morning light kissed Alina’s golden face, and she squinted, her eyes slowly adjusting to the brilliant glow of daybreak. Even now, the sheer beauty of the city stole her breath. Though the buildings rose low along the skyline, towering statues loomed in the distance like silent sentinels. Palm trees waved gently in the breeze, breathing verdant life into the streets, while slender canals meandered like silver threads through every part of the city. The phoenixians had shaped their streets to cradle these streams, turning them into pools, fountains, and open veins of fresh water. In some, fish danced through the currents, a shimmer of colour in motion.
Alina stared at the sky where a flock of vibrant phoenixes glided across the horizon painted in hues of blue and orange. One broke away from the flock, its feathers gleaming gold as it descended into a courtyard below. There stood Mareena Noor, a vision of power in her full warrior regalia, the sun catching on the sleek metal of her armour. As Alina watched, a helmet, carved in the likeness of a leopard with a long serpent neck and tail which phoenixians called serpopards, was placed upon Mareena’s head. With the Phanax flanking her, she turned and strode away from the palace.
