The Spirit Heir (32 page)

Rhen glued his eyes to the horizon, waiting, hoping.

A black line separated two shades of blue.

Land.

Faster.

His heart sank as the scene grew clearer and ships burst to life, gleaming gold at the front as metal glinted in the sun. Ash and rock exploded into the sky as they neared. The Ourthuri had Rayfort surrounded. Ship catapults centered on his home and buildings started to crumble with the onslaught. The white stone wall was becoming lost to the sea, broken in some parts. The guards looked small from this height as they raced to fight back, outnumbered and outmatched, unable to stop the chaos flying toward them.

Rhen remained in the clouds, circling the sky, surveying. On land, the traitors of Whylkin crept forward. Arrows blurred black across the green grass, flying toward his home, the barest hint of orange as fire laced the sky. Siege towers rolled over dirt, moving ever closer to the wall surrounding his home, not pausing despite the rocks being thrown by his guards on the wall.

And in the center of it all, the castle waited untouched.

But it was only a matter of time before the fighting reached those walls. Rayfort could withstand any attack from the land, but cornered on all sides, even his fortress of a city would fall. Already, the people raced through the streets, confused, cornered. If he listened close enough, through the booms, he could hear cries on the breeze, could smell blood, could taste their terror.

Anger fueling his actions, Rhen dove.

Bursting through the clouds, the dragon roared, shaking the rubble in the streets. For a moment, the entire city seemed to pause. No arrows. No catapults. No fights. Rhen felt a thousand eyes caress him, staring.

And then a cheer rose.

Shouts of joy.

Screams of excitement.

A new sensation filled his veins—hope, power.

Rhen circled the castle, surrounding it in flames, careful not to burn anything as he soared over his people, letting them know they were safe, that he had not forgotten them, that their Lord of Fire would not fail.

And then Rhen drifted wider.

Fast as lightning, he buried the harbor in flames. With enough heat, even metal burned. Beneath his wings, sails singed in seconds. Wooden decks scorched black under the fire. Ourthuri screamed, diving into the ocean, trying to escape a fire so hot that even water did not cool it. The surface of the sea grew orange as it blazed. An entire fleet was destroyed—as easy as breathing, as quick as blinking.

Rhen turned toward the land, to the men already running from the walls. The grass beneath him ignited as arrows burned to a crisp. Siege towers and catapults became dust in seconds.

And somewhere, his family watched on. His mother. His brother. His nephew. Somewhere they were praising his name, thanking him, eyes wide in disbelief, wet with tears of joy.

Pride surged in his chest, filling Rhen up. Overflowing into a wide grin across his cheeks. Screeching, Rhen landed on the tallest tower of the castle, stretching his wings wide, blowing a blanket of flames deep into the sky, claiming this city.

Everywhere he looked, there was fire. The sea was gone. The land was gone. The wall of Rayfort was now a glistening fire, an inferno protecting the city. Orange and red raged into the sky, billowing in the breeze.

"Lord of Fire!"

"Lord of Fire!"

The chants echoed across the sky. His people were calling his name, celebrating his victory, already turning him into a god.

Just as Rhen went to slip free of his seat, to leave his dragon and find his people, to join in the cheers, his stomach rolled. An invisible fist punched his gut, doubled him over until he collapsed against the scales beneath him, clinging to the dragon for strength as pain suffocated him.

The flames closed in.

The fire burned.

And suddenly, Rhen could feel his skin melting away, could feel it bubble and burst, could feel it take his life again and again.

But it wasn't his skin.

It was theirs.

Rhen opened his eyes, looking beyond the wall to the thousands of people dying in his fire, falling beneath his flames, scorching and burning. He could feel their pain, their terror, their fear. A new awareness blazed away every truth Rhen thought he knew.

Vomit filled his stomach, surged up his throat—bile.

Wrong.

This was all wrong.

But no, Rhen shook his head, the Ourthuri were the enemy. They were going to kill his people, his family. He had done the right thing.

No.

Rhen shook his head. Mind in turmoil. Body fighting against itself.

No.

He was supposed to help them all. Protect them all. Keep them safe.

His people. Those people. All people.

The dragon shifted below him, turned its head until Rhen met its eye—bright red. Steam sizzled from the surface of its skin, right at the corner of its lid, a small trail of smoke. Tears. Burned away before they even had the chance to form.

The dragon was crying.

Crying for all the souls Rhen had forced it to kill.

"I'm sorry," Rhen whispered, shaking his head.

What had he done?

What sort of monster had he become?

Without hesitation, Rhen pulled on the flames, tugging on the fire, urging it to obey and sink below his skin. The heat grew to an inferno. Rhen watched the orange flickering around him, glowing red and yellow, scattered with black shadows.

Rhen peered closer at the ebony flashes.

Narrowing his eyes.

Deep within the flames, a vision burned to life, searing his thoughts.

A memory flared, filling his veins with dread.

21

JINJI

~ THE GATES ~

"Jinji?" Janu repeated, awed, unsure if he could believe his own eyes.

She reached down, cupping his cheek, and whispered, "It's me. I'm here and I won't ever leave you again."

Janu paused, lip trembling, and then rose like an ocean wave, arms wrapping around her with his sudden burst of energy. And then he was shaking, hugging her close as tears fell free of his eyes. Jinji pulled her own arms tightly around his thin waist, hugging her brother to her chest, catching his cries with her body.

"I'm here," she said once more to make sure he believed it. Janu didn’t move, didn’t break. His head was tucked into the nook of her neck as his body fought the sobs racking his frame. Jinji remembered the nights he used to hold her like this, when the nightmares came and she could not sleep. Now they had changed places and Jinji wasn't sure if she could bear to learn what nightmares plagued his years, what the shadow had done to her twin, what his life had become.

You'll never kill him
, the voice whispered—a statement, not a question.

Jinji didn’t respond. Just shook her head—no.

I feel your love and it's strong. Too strong for me to break. My shadow-self was right—I cannot control you and I never will. But eventually you will ask for my help.

Help.

A dangerous word. Help kill Janu? Help destroy the shadow?

Helpless was more like it.

Jinji was helpless, floating in a void, unsure of which direction to take, of how to move forward.

My shadow-self will bring armies of his souls to this world and just like before, they will kill anything and everything in their path. Are you prepared to watch the world fall apart around you?

Jinji shifted her gaze, to the fires disappearing on the mountaintop, to the blue skies, to the other peaks of the Gates, to the sea. But no matter where she looked, she could not escape the voice inside her own head.

There is no other way to banish my shadow-self from this world. No way but death. Do it now and there will be no suffering. Or give in, let me have control, and I will do it for you.

As much as she wanted to, Jinji could not relent, could not kill the man weeping in her arms, could not let the voice murder the brother cradled against her side. She held him closer, letting her own tears fall, dropping soundlessly to the stone floor below them.

Jinji glanced up, trying to dry out the water, but instead the liquid pooled stronger when her vision landed on a dragon flying free of the mountain.

Rhen.

Drenched in fire, Jinji still saw him, still recognized him on the dragon's back, just like the painting the phantom had showed them. They soared left, right, disappeared in a downward spiral, only to lift back into view in a trail of flames.

What will the fire user say when he watches his family die, his people die, when he realizes it's all your fault?

Her heart clenched.

Her breath grew uneven.

Shaking her head, Jinji shouted at the voice,
He'll never know. I'll figure out a different solution.

The voice just laughed across her thoughts, foreboding, menacing.
Oh, he will know. He'll sense the shadow, he'll feel the darkness, and eventually he will understand who your brother really is. And when he does, what then? Will you kill him to keep the shadow safe?

Jinji squeezed her eyes shut against the thought, not willing to think about it. There had to be a way to save them both, to save them all. There had to be something the voice never thought of, never tried. Jinji had come too far to give up now, to stop fighting for everyone she loved.

How far are you willing to go to save one human? How many will you sacrifice on his behalf?

That was enough—enough questioning, enough dark thoughts, enough despair. In the blink of an eye, Jinji wove a spirit thread down her back, a long cut that sent pain sizzling up her spine. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, from breaking this moment with Janu, she held in the moan.

But the trick worked.

The voice was gone for now. It would be back, of that Jinji was certain, but for a brief moment, she didn’t want to think. She wanted to hold her brother, to relish this happiness before the heavy weight of the world slammed back on her shoulders.

The body in her arms shifted too soon. Janu eased back, smiling with wet cheeks as his eyes roamed her face, drank her in.

"How…" He trailed off, lost for words, shaking his head. "How did you find me? After all these years?"

Jinji reached up, gripping the face looking down at her, wiping the water away. "It doesn't matter," she said, voice cracking. "All that matters is that we're together."

Jinji pulled her brother close, hugging him tight once more, not ready to let him go—unsure if she ever could.

Her eyes scanned the sky, finding the fire dragon, searching for the rider on its back. For a moment, Jinji swore Rhen was watching her, was looking back at the castle, wondering. But the moment passed, the dragon turned, disappearing into the distance, barely more than a speck in the sky.

Dread sank down her throat, hard, clogging her breath.

Rhen was flying away from her.

Was leaving her. Going to a place she could never follow.

Jinji watched him, eyes wide, stuck on the horizon long after the dragon had disappeared from sight. With Janu in her arms, she was not alone, but Jinji felt that way. Isolated. Abandoned. Cold.

Rhen was gone.

And the next time she saw him, everything would be different.

They were no longer a team. No longer a duo.

When Rhen came back, he would be her foe. Maybe not right away. But eventually, when he realized the truth, they would find themselves on opposite sides of the war.

Her limbs grew cold. Numb.

Janu turned his head, holding her tighter as though he sensed her grip had changed, had grown slack.

"I love you," he whispered.

Jinji closed her lids, finally saying goodbye to the sky, goodbye to the man who had come to mean everything to her. Evergreen eyes filled her mind—warm, inviting, home.

Her heart was torn, split in half, breaking down the middle. Jinji didn’t know if the words burning her lips were for Janu or for Rhen, but she said them anyway, praying the wind would decide and carry them to the right ears.

"I love you."

22