pdf - From the Ashes.PDF (9 page)

Fiach smoothed his palms up and down her back. “How could you think I would ever forget? You were a living flame, the most beautiful creature put on earth or heaven.”

“And you are the most handsome creature to burst from the fires of hell and into the flames of my heart.”

He arched a brow. “You are mocking my poetic sentiments.”

Cilia feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fiach. Honestly, I was just returning the compliment.”

A small giggle escaped her. Fiach rushed forward but she dodged him and ran, as best she could in the flowing white dress, grateful that she only wore a filmy pair of slippers. Rois moved aside and cleared her escape route.

Cilia ran until she had the great hall in sight. She could just make out the shimmering outline that comprised the base of the Lady’s throne. Mesmerized by the beauty of the place, her pace slowed as she tried to take in every detail. The momentary pause allowed Fiach to grab her middle and yank her flush against him.

“Shhh … we’ll have plenty of time to play later,” he promised.

Cilia acquiesced and smoothed her palms over her fabric-encased hips. She readied for their presentation. Rois strolled past them with a smothered smile then proceeded into the hall. She went to the Lady, knelt before her briefly then rose to her feet, and made the announcement: “The Lord Fiach and his
D’Ame
, the Lady Cilia are prepared to take their vows.”

Murmurs of excitement rippled through the crowd. They all wore celebratory clothing and seemed to glow with anticipation. The Lady came to her feet and held her hand up to silence the room.

“Let the
Noce
begin.” She approached until she was close enough to touch. She took Fiach and Celia’s hands in hers. Their Phoenixes awakened, and their skin heated. The Lady’s fair skin pinkened, but did not burn. She nodded to Rois who brought a thin silver chain and wrapped the hand of the Lady that held Fiach, as well as the hand that held Cilia, leaving the Lady as a conduit in the middle.

Rois jumped back and sucked a finger into her mouth. She had slipped at the last moment and burnt herself on Cilia’s wrist. Cilia murmured an apology that Rois gestured away.

Rois retreated as the Lady’s clear crystalline voice rose over the crowd. In the flowing syllables of her native tongue, she began reciting the vows that would bind Cilia to her mate. The sounds were familiar, but distant, like a song she could hum but didn’t quite know the words. Fiach leaned down near her ear.

“Need a translator?” he asked.

Cilia nodded and Fiach began to whisper the phrases into her ear: “Today these two lovers give themselves with clear mind and conscious to one another. They take each other to be their life’s partner…” He translated the finer points of the ceremony, and she was content to hear his deep, bass voice flow under the Lady’s words. The Lady stopped her recitation and looked down at Cilia. This time she had no trouble understanding.

“Cilia, daughter of the earthen flame, do you claim Fiach as your mate?”

Cilia licked her lips. “I claim him.”

Fiach’s smile burst onto his face. The Lady looked to him and asked a question Cilia did not understand.

Fiach answered. “I will spend all the days of my life by her side.”

The Lady closed her eyes and warmth spread through the silver chains that linked them. Cilia felt her body slip away. She blinked, and then there was darkness.

*

Fiach caught Cilia as she fainted. She had done this the first time as well. The combined force of his powers clashed and merged with her overwrought senses. His new body and soul was bound to hers now. He felt her every breath, every heartbeat, as his own.

Fiach?
The worried sound whispered through his mind.

Yes?
He answered with thought.

I remember. It’s all here
.

The how and whys of everything, the truth of her origins, was all there for them both.

She was the Phoenix
Neir
, their Queen. They were a matriarchal society so the title and power passed from mother to daughter. Most importantly, the memory of all their lives past was intact; she remembered all that had been shared with him, her
Niero
and King.

She groaned.

Fiach nestled her closer.
What’s wrong?

Her gentle laughter flustered him.
I just remembered why no one had seen a Phoenix
pair mate before
.

He chuckled low and dangerous.
Have you now? As I seem to recall it has something
to do with our telepathy. That only the two of us hear our screams. It’s hard to sneak up
and witness something that happens without a sound
. Even as he said it, his thoughts filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. He released a hungry growl.

Fiach!
She chastised him. Her low hum of arousal made his cock swell and lift.

“I see the binding was successful,” the Lady said.

Fiach tore his eyes away from Cilia long enough to meet the Lady’s saddened expression. She realized that, with their bond reaffirmed, they would no longer share their intimate moments. They had refrained from releasing their fires during the mating the court had witnessed. The Lady, no doubt, had held the hope of seeing how bright their flames burned during the act of completion, but it was the pinnacle of pyroardor and not something meant for others to see. He covered a grin. In full flame, they would have burnt down a wing of the Lady’s manor as fevered as they had become watching the scene that had played out around them.

“Yes, Lady. Thank you for making us whole again.”

The Lady smiled warmly. “You are most welcome. You have our hospitality until you have decided on a course of action.”

Rois walked over and carefully unchained the remaining links that bound the trio together. This time she was much more careful and managed to free them without suffering a second burn.

Fiach looked at Rois, with his complete knowledge at his disposal. “Thank you Rois, for everything you’ve done for us.”

Rois’s cheeks reddened. “I would do it over again to keep you safe.” Then she walked into the crowd and reemerged with a tall, lightly muscled man behind her. His silver white hair fell almost to his knees and shimmered as if covered in glitter. Rois led him forward and smiled before presenting him formally. “Lord Fiach, Lady Cilia, this is the son of my heart, Cayden.”

Cayden’s lyrical voice tickled his ears. “I am honored to meet you. Rois raised me on stories of your quest to find one another.” He cast his mother an amused glance. “She believes in eternal love. She almost succeeded in convincing me as well, but I know too well how fickle Phoenix affection can be.”

“Cayden,” Rois chided.

“It’s all right, Rois; he meant no disrespect,” Cilia pitched in. Fiach looked at her and watched her slow perusal of the youth. Instead of the desire, which he imagined he would find, she looked sorrowful.

He’s heart broken, Fiach.
The mental pathway hummed as she spoke with him.

He’s young. He will heal,
he soothed. Fiach caught the eye of the young man and saw a depth of sadness shimmering there that no one born of the Sidhe could carry. It was a stark pain only human eyes could express. Cayden’s time in Faerie had changed him, altered his appearance to mimic those around him. But, his eyes remained human, and his soul was blighted. “It was a pleasure you meet you as well, Cayden. I hope that we will enjoy a friendship with you.”

Cayden’s lips quirked upward in a purely fae expression. “I believe I would enjoy such an acquaintance.”

Fiach knew what kind of relationship Cayden implied. Cilia’s sharp intake of breath left little doubt she had heard and understood as well. He moved his eyes from Cayden to Cilia. She looked flushed, not with interest but with embarrassment. Fiach’s heart lightened. This exchange had brought up jealous emotions, which he liked to believe he was secure enough not to indulge in.

He’s baiting you,
she chimed.

I know. It’s a dangerous game he’s playing.

Rois paled at Cayden’s last comment. She looped an arm through his and drew him away until he disappeared once more into the crowd. Fiach traced a finger down Cilia’s cheek. The court still watched, no doubt hoping in the excitement that clothes and inhibitions would be lost. Fiach hated to disappoint them, but two days of excess was enough for him. He didn’t intend for anyone to see the smooth curves of Cilia’s body again, except through whatever whimsical outfit he deigned to dress her in, and dressing her was a hobby he would never tire of.

A profound hush fell over the hall. The focus shifted away from the
Noce
as a wave of malcontent sweep through the space. The silence was deafening compared to the morning’s tittering hum and glib conversation, which had suddenly ceased.

“They seem to be expecting something,” Cilia said.

Fiach looked around. The Sidhe were looking at them more intently now, definitely waiting for something to happen. Then it did.

Loud rumbles filled the hall and bounced from the ceiling. Gasps and startled exclamations were followed by low curses and muttered threats. Dark shadows coalesced along the edges of the room. A crack of thunder rolled overhead, and dark mists swirled only feet away from where Fiach stood.

A sharp rumbling voice rose from the foggy vortex. “Phoenix. I have waited too long for this. You will pay for your subterfuge as will your coconspirators.”

“No, Harailt. We’ve paid enough already.”

The cloak of mists dissipated, leaving a broad-shouldered man in its place. He was thickly muscled and almost black skinned. Red runes wrapped over each inch of uncovered flesh. His midnight hair hung in a queue down his back, and his red eyes flashed with impatience. Fiach had not seen his father in years, but his lips still curled cruelly, and an air of malevolence still clung to his skin.

“You hid under my nose, in my house, all this time. I was a fool.” He looked at Cilia and made a production of licking his lips. “But this. This makes the wait worthwhile. She is exquisite.”

“She is mine.”

“Nothing is yours. Your life is not even your own now. Did you think the Morag had forgotten you? That we didn’t know the Lady had somehow hidden you? We waited patiently for the day you would grow complacent and reveal yourselves.” He sneered at the Lady. “Your sacrifice was for nothing.”

“You’re wrong, demon,” she replied.

“You merely prolonged their lives, not saved them. I should have killed them when I had the chance instead of attempting to cage them. I will not make that mistake twice.”

Cilia spoke up. “If you know anything about Phoenix, you know we cannot be killed.”

Harailt released a sharp bark of laughter. “You have such a high opinion of yourself.” Harailt puffed his chest out. “You are the last of the Phoenix. The rest have been dispensed.”

Cilia collapsed to the floor, sobs filling their shared pathway and spilling over her lips. “No! It’s not true. It’s not possible!”

Fiach dropped to the ground beside Cilia and sheltered her as she cried. He had told her of his father’s obsession, but even he had not truly grasped the magnitude of the situation.

“Our families, our people. They can’t be gone.”

“I assure you they are gone, burned by the Living Ash; they were all destroyed.”

Cilia’s cries stopped for the span of a heartbeat before they began again.

Can it be true?
She whispered, as though afraid he could hear their voices.

We’ll have to play along to find out. Are you ready?

I’m ready.

Harailt approached. He held out gold manacles and waited for Fiach to lower his wrists into them. Once the cold metal snapped over his hands, Harailt did the same for Cilia.

“I will return to exact payment for your treachery; either the blood of every court member, or the hand in binding of the Lady
Alayne
.” He spat out her name like a curse.

The Lady lifted a hand to her throat. Names have power, and to possess the name of a powerful fae was to hold leverage over that fae. Fiach looked at the Court. Some were incensed, and others were pensive; a few were openly gleeful to have such secret knowledge come to light.

Harailt used the length of gold chain that connected the cuffs to yank Cilia and Fiach to their feet. He led them out of the hall and into the open air of Faerie. Then just as before, they stopped existing in one place and found themselves bursting into being somewhere completely different. They took a few steps forward and were rewarded with a loud pop as they pierced the barrier around the Phoenix homeland.

The sweet aroma and lush landscape of Faerie dissolved in a shimmering haze to red skies that hovered over a baked clay ground. The sun that hung above them looked dipped in blood. The ground was dry and cracked like the desert, and pockets of steam hissed between the cracks. Fiach inhaled deeply and let the burnt-cinnamon smell infuse his senses. He glanced quickly over to Cilia and saw the look of rapture on her face. This was Lielos, and they were home.

*

Cilia let the waves of heat beat against her skin. The blood sun of her home charged her fires, stoking them higher than the earthen sun could ever manage. She was loose limbed, primed for what lie ahead: the end to the suffering that Harailt and his demons had rained down upon her people in her absence.

They were led over the crackled ground through the barren desert landscape towards their final destination. Demon magic was void in Lielos, so they all marched under the baking sun at an almost human pace. Harailt jerked Cilia’s chains, making her stumble and almost fall. Fiach steadied her weight with his hip.

Thanks,
she projected, but didn’t dare communicate otherwise in case the demon lord had found a way to invade their thoughts.

After hours of being herded by the Morag, the end of their journey came into sight.

A deep indentation in the otherwise flat and sparse ground loomed just ahead. Steam piped from the center and cloaked the cavity with a veil of torrid fog. The contents of the basin were obscured, but she knew what lay below and rejoiced in it.