Born of Fire (10 page)

She distantly realized that she had closed her eyes at some point, because when she had the strength to open them again, Fiach’s face was still pressed to her own. His eyes opened and they were his again, no longer controlled by the alien beauty of his Phoenix.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked. His voice was labored from exertion.

Cilia went through a quick mental checklist. Her back was sore and cold from the stones, but everything else felt great. More than great, she was ready to have him again.

His dark chuckle proved he understood her expression perfectly.

“Even if we didn’t have a job to do, I need some time to recover.” He set her on her feet.

Cilia rose to her toes and kissed his swollen lips and tasted the tang of her blood still coating them. Then she bent down to pull her clothing back into place.

*

Fiach watched Cilia step into her clothes and prepare for what lay ahead without comment. His skin itched and his body ached. Something moved just beneath his skin. It should have alarmed him, but instead he felt comforted, as if a missing puzzle piece had snapped into place. His Phoenix had risen and taken its mate. He knew Cilia understood this had not just been about sex. It had been a claiming.

A loud thump brought their attention back to the door behind them.

“Come out, come out.” Kathel rasped.

His voice was almost impossible to recognize. The fact he still had one told Fiach the old cat was trying to get himself under control, but the coarsely spoken taunt meant he wasn’t having much success. If they managed to escape from Arvel with the humans, Kathel would still stand between them and their escape. The heavy illusion wrapped around this small corner of land meant they would have to be free of the walls, and completely at Kathel’s mercy, for Fiach to send them home. It was a worry he pushed down on the list while he tried to focus on finding the humans.

Cilia came to his side and opened her palm, allowing a small flame to appear. Its flickering illumination helped them to see each corner of the room they stood in. The door was behind them, stairs in front of them, and large empty rooms on either side.

Fiach decided the rooms were their best bet. Arvel would need a lot of space to house her indentured captives. He knew from experience the demon did a brisk business.

Fiach led them into the room that branched off to the right of the entryway. Once inside, they found themselves reflected a thousand times over. The light from Cilia’s palm enabled them to see each detail of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that hung mere inches apart, and covered every wall in the cavernous room.

Each gilded frame was inscribed with a riddle. Fiach traced the complex patterns with his fingertips. The symbols and letters were familiar, but some of the passages were incomplete. The language was his father’s, something he had been forced to learn as a child, since Harailt considered his mother’s native tongue to be inappropriate for a young Lord of his house to speak. The dialect must be several generations older than the language commonly used now.

It gave Fiach disturbing insight into how old Arvel was to have such artifacts at her disposal. This room of mirrors predated any age he might have ascribed to the demon.

“Do you know what it says?” Cilia asked.

“I think so. Each frame is engraved with a riddle. I assume solving the riddle releases that mirror’s occupants, but I don’t know how to find out what’s being held in there in the first place. Or how you let the mirror know you’ve found the answer.”

“I think I have an answer to the first and a guess as to the second.”

Fiach glanced over at Cilia. One corner of her lips kicked up.

“Watch this.” She placed her palm flat against the surface of the nearest mirror. The silvery background wavered around her reflection, and then gave way to a small room where a huge and furred beast lay hidden in the corner. The creature lifted its horned head and glared at her before lying down on the stone floor and ignoring her presence altogether.

“Interesting.” Fiach went to the next mirror and placed a palm against the cold glass and watched as another identical chamber was revealed. At first, the room appeared to be empty, but a small flicker of light caught his attention. A small fae, almost identical to Arabella, flittered around the chamber humming to herself, oblivious to his intrusion.

He withdrew his palm and watched the mirror ripple then smooth until his reflection stared back at him levelly. Cilia had moved to the frame opposite his. They took turns searching the mirrored cells for what seemed like hours. There had been no sign of Arvel, but no sign of Stella and Max either. Soon they would have to begin searching the next room or concede that Arvel had already disposed of the humans.

“Fiach! I found them!” Cilia called.

She stood across the room with her hand pressed to a mirror. Inside he saw the outline of a mother cradling a child to her chest and rocking him. From the way her lips moved, Fiach assumed she was singing.

“Are they all right?” he asked.

“They seem to be.” Then she turned to him. “So what does this mirror say?”

Fiach stepped closer to examine the carving. When Cilia dropped her hand, the cell behind it shimmered and the smooth silver exterior returned. She glanced at the opaque surface.

“It’s best they not know we’re out here just yet,” Fiach said gently.

She nodded and started to worry her thumbnail with her teeth. After a few tries he was fairly certain he had translated it correctly.

“Well?” Cilia asked hopefully.

“It says,
‘A cloud was my mother, the wind is my father, my son is the cool stream,
and my daughter is the fruit of the land. A rainbow is my bed, the earth my final resting
place, and I'm the torment of man’
.”

“Crap.”

He chuckled. “Have you so little faith?”

Her eyes brightened. “Are you telling me you know the answer?”

“Well, no” he admitted. “But anyone born of the fae cuts their teeth on turns of phrase and half truths.”

Cilia’s determination glittered in her eyes. “Okay, let’s think about this. The answer has to be elemental.”

He considered that. “I agree. All the elements are mentioned, except fire.” He looked at Cilia. “I wonder if that was done on purpose?”

“How could Arvel have known?”

“I’m not certain she did. Since this is Faerie, it would make sense for nature and the elements to play a key role.”

Cilia rolled her eyes, unbelieving the choice of riddle was a coincidence. “The answer is something to do with water.” She was certain. “Arvel would choose an answer that meant the opposite of fire. Something an uninformed demon might think I would find offensive.”

“So how to we tell the mirror?” he asked.

“I think you have to read the inscription, in the language it’s written in, and then give the answer.”

He shrugged. “It won’t hurt to try.” He carefully enunciated each word of the riddle followed by their answer. Nothing happened.

“So maybe it’s not water, but it’s something along those lines.” She tapped a finger to her lips, drawing Fiach’s attention away from the task at hand and toward her full mouth. She caught him staring. “Focus, Fiach.”

He let his gaze slip from her tempting lips. “The riddle mentions cloud, wind, stream, rainbow, and earth.”

Their eyes met. “Rain.” They said together.

Fiach murmured the words again and the silver film covering the chamber dissipated.

He reached out a hand, and where he should have met cold glass, he met with open air.

The room’s occupants started and huddled in the farthest corner. He held his hands out, showing he meant no harm. He pulled Cilia forward and allowed them a glimpse of someone familiar. She whirled past him and called out to her humans.

“Stella! Maxie! Thank goodness you’re both all right!”

The second they saw Cilia, the wariness in their expressions lightened to pure joy.

The boy broke free of his mother and ran straight for Cilia.

*

“Don’t touch me,” Cilia warned. Tonight the rush of adrenaline from mating and the magnitude of danger they were in made her overtly aware that extra energy stores were nearby. She glanced at Fiach, uncertain how well he could contain the hunger of his newly raised Phoenix. Max skittered to a stop.

He turned a mutinous glare on Fiach. “Why can he touch you?”

Cilia sought a simple explanation, grateful that it was the truth. “He’s a Phoenix like me, Maxie.”

Max’s eyes widened. “Boys can be Phoenix too?”

Cilia could practically hear the gears turning as Max readied his next question.

“So can you make me a Phoenix?”

She patted his back. “No, Maxie. It doesn’t work that way.”

Stella stepped from the mirror. Hesitantly she asked, “Cilia, what’s going on here?

Where are we?”

“You’re in a very bad place, Stella. I won’t lie to you. It’s our fault you’re here, but we’ve come to take you home.”

Stella shook her head. “I don’t want to know. I probably wouldn’t understand it anyway.” She hugged Max to her side. “Let’s get out of here.”

Fiach stood behind them, his eyes searching the darkness. “It’s too quiet, Cilia.

Whatever Arvel has planned is going to happen as soon as we leave this place.”

Cilia placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, Fiach. We’re going to get through this.”

He nodded absently then swung his gaze to Stella and Max. “Are you able to run?”

Stella stood a little straighter under Fiach’s scrutiny. “Yes. We were fed well and I exercised with Max to burn off his energy. I’m probably in better shape now than I’ve been in years.”

Fiach grinned. “Good woman. Just keep between Cilia and myself. If I ask you to do something, don’t hesitate.” He winked at Max. “That goes double for you. Stay close and listen well.”

Cilia fell in line behind Stella and Max as Fiach led them from the room of mirrors and back to the heavy iron door. He paused and tilted his head. She could imagine what he listened for. Kathel. If the cat were to touch either of the humans they would die. She and Fiach had better chances, but if the bloodlust still had control over Kathel, then none of them would be safe.

“I don’t sense him.” Fiach addressed their group. “When I open this door, you’ll have no time to waste. Cilia and I will guide you. The only thing you need to remember is to run. If either of us falls behind, don’t look back. You must get away from this place.”

His voice thickened. “If we both fall, then walk north until you find the city. Tell them Lord Fiach sent you and ask for the Lady. They’ll understand your message.”

Stella reached out to his arm, but pulled her hand back. “Thank you.”

“I’m not worthy of your thanks. It’s my fault you’re in this mess to begin with.”

Cilia watched his hands blister as he pulled the old iron door open. He didn’t flinch or show the pain except for a slight tightening around his eyes. Her heart hurt for him and wanted to soothe his pain, but she realized their lives depended on how the next few minutes played out.

The door swung freely on its hinge once loosened of its mooring. Fiach cracked it open and peered out into the night. Nothing moved. The bodies of the Darkies had been picked apart and consumed. Whatever creatures guarded the stone outpost from the tree line kept silent and still. With one last look over of his broad shoulder, he slipped into the night. Stella went next and Max fell in behind her with Cilia bringing up the rear. They had almost made it to edge of the magical cocoon when arrows arced against the dark sky and began to plunge into the ground all around them.

Fiach shook his wings free and pulled Stella and Max under their shelter. He cast Cilia a tortured expression that let her know he wished she was the one protected. She gave him a smile that she hoped let him know her friends’ lives were more important to her than her own.

As they ran, Cilia began to hear dull thumps behind her. Rhythmic beats that sounded in time to her own footsteps. Without turning she knew it was Kathel. The arrows had been a diversion to slow them down long enough for him to catch up.

Whatever Arvel’s plan had been, they had handed the demon an even better alternative, one beyond reproach. After all, what were two humans and a Phoenix doing in the outlands of Faerie? Cilia doubted Fiach’s death could be explained away as easily.

She realized too late it would never be a problem. Kathel was herding her away from the others. Her heart soared with hope that Fiach could escape and take Stella and Max to safety. Her life in exchange for theirs; it was a trade she could easily live with. So she ran, heedless to Fiach’s strangled cries as he realized her intentions almost in the instant she veered away from them.

Cilia had a flash of insight that she should run to the tree line and towards Arvel’s legion. After all, if she had to die, why not take a few of the enemy with her? She pushed herself faster and faster until her legs were weak and ready to collapse beneath her. She crashed through the brush nestled at the base of the trees.

She could clearly see the archers now. She was too close for their arrows to be of any use. She hurtled over logs and past their perimeter. The Darkies sat still and allowed Kathel to ravage anyone and anything in his path. She was the only thing in motion. She hadn’t understood why the Darkie guards had stood their ground as Kathel snapped them in half. She did now. A moving target was much more tempting than a still one. If you stood silent and motionless, you had a chance, however slight, to survive the onslaught. If you ran, as she was running, it was like placing a large red bull’s-eye on your back.

Kathel was a predator. The sight of easy prey within reach triggered his instincts to hunt. He was powerless to stop himself from attacking. One second she was running, the cool night air stinging her lungs. The next heavy weights were thrown against her back as Kathel pounced and forced her to the ground. She felt his hot breath on the back of her neck as her head bounced off the hardened earth.

She heard his voice croak, “I’m so sorry, lass.”

Then the world went black.