Phoenix Rising (The Keeper Origins Book 3) Read online

  Sable shifted against the wood behind her. “That was the sense I got from Bastian as well. And Goll.”

  “Then it’s a very good thing,” Atticus said, “that the Empire doesn’t know her three daughters exist. And that one of them is currently with the rebellion.”

  Sable’s gaze shifted among the nods around her.

  Atticus grew apprehensive. “What did you do, Sable?”

  “The story must be told in order, Atticus. If we skip to the end, you’ll miss Serene’s big moment where she almost destroyed the Sanctuary.”

  Jae turned to look at his wife. “What’s this?”

  “Sable’s exaggerating,” Serene told him. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”

  “Actually, it was,” Flibbet said. “I was there.”

  Sable nodded. “Serene and I found out Vivaine had all the merchants in the Sanctuary, turning them against the north. But when we got there to convince the merchants to come help the army—”

  “They were burning my books!” Serene broke in.

  “What?” Atticus looked at her sharply. “Vivaine loves books.”

  “Clearly,” Serene said to him. “Which is why she was burning a huge pile in a show of solidarity with the Kalesh.”

  “How many?”

  “Hundreds.”

  “What did you do?” Jae asked, somewhat cautiously.

  “She took the fire from the books,” Sable said, “and she lit all the bushes and trees across the front of the Dragon Priory.”

  Flibbet nodded. “The flames grew higher and higher until the heat broke the windows and lit drapes and who knows what else inside.” He looked at Serene nervously. “I thought the stones themselves might catch fire.”

  Jae reached over and turned one of Serene’s hands over so he could see her palm. It was perfectly normal looking. “How…?”

  Serene turned the other palm over, which was equally unharmed. “You know how you’ve always said the stones of the priories have something magical in them? You were right. Not all of them, but some. When I started to move the vitalle, there were…paths. A lot of paths through the stones.” She glanced at her feet. “I felt it across the bottoms of my feet, but it didn’t hurt. Or if it did, I didn’t notice.” She gave Jae a rueful look. “I was angry.”

  “What did Vivaine do when you set her priory on fire?” Atticus asked.

  “She came outside,” Sable answered. “Her Mira got the fire under control, and since everyone’s attention was focused so nicely, I took that opportunity to climb the steps and tell the merchants what Vivaine had done. How she’d been manipulating everyone and made secret deals with the Kalesh.”

  “She mentioned how Vivaine wraps light around herself to make herself appear more holy,” Flibbet added. “Which was…unsettling.”

  Atticus looked impressed. “And they believed you?”

  “It’s Sable,” Serene said. “They believed her…And that’s when Argyros tried to burn her alive.”

  “What?” Atticus demanded.

  Sable nodded. “And we’re still not to the part you’re going to be really mad about.” She pointed to where Innov flew over the forests next to the river. “Innov saved me. She intercepted the flames, and when Argyros stopped, Innov attacked him. She gouged out one of his eyes, and he retreated.”

  “She attacked the dragon?” Thulan asked.

  Leonis nodded approvingly. “I knew I liked that bird.”

  Atticus looked between Innov and Sable. “At some point, you are going to sit with me and give a very detailed account of all of this. This will be the greatest play ever written.” He glanced at Thulan. “How will we ever show dragon fire and a phoenix?”

  “Where does that leave Vivaine?” Jae asked before Thulan could answer.

  “Weakened,” Serene answered. “Severely. The Merchant Guild distrusts her, Argyros is wounded, and the city on the whole has turned against her.”

  “But,” Sable said, “she did have one more important thing to say. Before we left the Sanctuary, Vivaine argued that the Kalesh still wanted our gold, and even if we drove them away, they’d be back.” She paused. “Unless we had something more valuable to offer them.”

  Atticus’s gaze flattened. “Issable.” His voice held a sharply disapproving tone.

  Sable raised an eyebrow at her full name. “If you can see where this is going, you can’t deny that it made sense.”

  “Sable was going to offer them the daughter of the Ghost,” Thulan said, shaking her head, “in exchange for the Empire not coming back.”

  “I did offer. And Goll accepted.”

  There was a moment of silence, and in that breath, the full weight of that offer fell on Sable again. The hopelessness it had ended in.

  “Bastian agreed to this?” Atticus asked.

  “Bastian did not agree, but he took me to the general anyway and verified my story.” Sable closed her eyes, seeing Bastian crumpled on the ground, unmoving. The horrible stain spreading across his back. “Goll killed him.”

  When she opened her eyes, the others were looking at her with a mixture of horror and shock.

  “Goll took me prisoner, and we were headed to a Kalesh ship. Until Kiva stopped us from actually leaving.”

  Now every face stared at her in shock.

  “Kiva?” said Atticus faintly.

  Sable nodded. “He claimed the north wouldn’t stand for me being taken.” Her fury at the man rose again. “He killed Goll to ‘save’ me.”

  “Wait,” Serene said. “Kiva killed both Goll and Tanis? That doesn’t make sense. Why kill both the general of the Kalesh army and the general of the northern army?”

  “Kiva didn’t kill Tanis,” Sable said.

  “It was venom from his snake,” Atticus pointed out.

  “But Kiva swears it wasn’t him, and he was telling the truth. He thinks it was Vivaine, and she used the vayakadyn venom to put the blame on Kiva. In one move, she weakened the northern army and made sure they would hate the Merchant Guild.”

  Atticus took in these words with a slow, pained nod. “There’s a logic to that.”

  Jae turned to Sable. “The fact that Kiva brought you to the boats explains why the soldiers keep talking about the southerner who protected the Flame of the North. I was having a hard time puzzling that out.”

  Sable glared in the general direction of Kiva, back in Immusmala, all the fear and frustration and defeat of the last day funneling into how much she hated his smug, horrible face. “He was trying to solidify a relationship with the north and thinks they owe him now. He plans to leverage that as much as he can. I would imagine with Vivaine weakened, we’ll be seeing more of Kiva in our negotiations with the south.”

  “Kiva is an unpleasant man to owe a favor to,” Atticus said.

  “We don’t,” Sable said firmly. “All he did was destroy the one chance we had to deter the Kalesh from coming back.”

  Leonis shook his head. “The north will think they owe him. At least the parts of the north that are enamored with you. Which is not an insignificant portion of it.”

  “And the south as well,” Jae added. “I heard more talk of the Flame of the North in Immusmala than almost anything else. Because you have Innov, you’re thought of as…not a prioress, but maybe as something similar. Or even something more.”

  Flibbet was nodding slowly, watching Sable with a wondering expression.

  A new sort of fury rose in her at their reactions. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Hardly,” Atticus said. “You unified an army and led it down to defend a city that isn’t even their own, you wrested the power of Immusmala away from Vivaine, and you turned the Kalesh ambassador to your cause.” His shoulders drooped. “I’m utterly superfluous. I could never, ever have orchestrated all of that.”

  “It wasn’t orchestrated!” Sable shifted her frustration toward the old man. “It was one failed, desperate attempt after another to not be destroyed by the Kalesh!”

  “I know!” Atticus stared at her almost helplessly. “And…” He flung one hand toward Innov flying over the river. “You have a phoenix—who defeats dragons! How would anyone have ever thought to include a phoenix?”

  “I’m sure Purnicious played a role,” Thulan said.

  “Of course I did,” came Purnicious’s voice from up near the rail of the boat.

  “Who’s Purnicious?” Flibbet asked, looking warily at the empty air.

  “And she has a kobold!” Atticus added, raising his eyes to the sky. “Because why wouldn’t she also have a kobold?”

  Flibbet’s eyes widened. “A kobold!”

  “You’re all missing the point!” Sable snapped, loud enough that several nearby soldiers glanced over. “I can’t be the Flame of the North anymore,” she continued, trying to keep the words quieter. “The fact is that Goll sent a raven before he died. The Emperor himself—who hates Melia with a passion—knows I’m here.” The air around her grew warm with the truth of it all, and she clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. “Not only are they coming back for the gold, but they’re coming for me, just like they came for my mother. And at some point, they are going to learn about my sisters. Anyone who stands against them is going to die, and everything we were trying to save is going to be overrun. Every single thing I did made this mess worse. It doesn’t matter that Innov is still here for reasons I don’t understand. Or that Purnicious thinks I’m more than I am.” She ignored Purn’s huff of indignation. “None of it matters!” she flung at them. “Because I—” She bit back the next words.

  Reese lay cold and still in the heat of her words, as dim as Narine had been in her last moments. A grasping, desperate fear rose. The others around Sable were blazing towers of life, but when the Kalesh returned, how many of their lives would be snuffed out, left broken and cold?

  Her friends would fall, one by one, and it ripped something out of her.

  Her voice came out as merely a whisper, but she shoved the truth into it. “I destroyed everything.”

  The heat of her words flared through the bow of the boat with the heat of a bonfire. Jae and Serene tensed at the strength of it.

  Atticus shook his head. “No, the Kalesh destroyed everything.”

  “And Vivaine,” Serene added.

  Sable held up a hand to stop them, her arm shaking with fury. “But they know I’m Melia’s daughter because I told them. That changes everything for me, and I’m the one who changed it. When they come back…”

  The threat of it all hung palpably in the air. The conversations farther down the boat droned on, the oars clunking rhythmically against the oarlocks, the beat shoving them inexorably forward.

  “I can’t stay,” she finished.

  “Leaving won’t stop the Kalesh,” Thulan said. “They’ll just track you down.”

  Sable took a deep breath and nodded. “That was my mother’s mistake. She ran, and they chased her, killing hundreds of innocent people in the process. They didn’t stop searching for her until she was dead.”

  She paused, looking at the familiar faces around her. “There is one solution to this. The Empire needs to believe the Flame of the North is dead.”

  Atticus glared at her but said nothing. She could see his mind ripping the idea apart, looking for the argument against it.

  “You can’t spin this into a happy story, Atticus,” she said. “In the real tragedies, everyone knows the terrible end is coming, even from the beginning. This ends one of two ways: The Empire kills me for real, or we make them think they did.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Pretending Sable is dead…” Leonis said thoughtfully.

  “Could be fun,” Thulan agreed.

  Atticus narrowed his eyes. “No,” he said firmly. “You’re the Flame of the North.”

  “Atticus!” Sable said, the word sharp with exhaustion and frustration. “I need to die.”

  “No.” He ran his fingers through his beard thoughtfully. “The Flame needs to be martyred.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The wooden deck of the ship creaked and groaned beneath Sable in time with the rhythm of the oars. Soldiers’ boots shuffled and scraped against the deck in the darkness, but Sable sat in silence in the bow of the boat, turning over the idea of a martyrdom in her mind. There was something distasteful about the whole idea of faking her death, but it felt necessary.

  Reese still lay beside her, sleeping restlessly. The others had spread out to find places to sleep, and Innov had come to perch on Sable’s arm. The glow between the phoenix’s feathers shifted like a living, breathing bed of coals.

  A glimmer of green light appeared near the back of the boat where Atticus’s wagon was parked. Leonis must have opened the panel in the wagon’s walls, revealing his small sede tree.

  From the ground, the tree itself only stood as tall as Sable’s elbow, but its trunk was twisted and ropey, and its faintly glowing leaves spread out in a thick arching canopy.

  The tree shone with the same sort of serenity that a forest held. That sense that life was long and storms were fleeting. That things as gentle as sunlight, rain, and fresh air were the true powers in the world, slowly and steadily breathing life into everything.

  The presence of the tree was more subtle than Innov’s flames, but it was good of Leonis to share it with the boat—and a little surprising, seeing as he usually kept it protectively tucked away.

  The leaves of the tree shuddered, then moved.

  Sable peered through the darkness at it.

  It was definitely moving. Quivering and jolting.

  And getting closer.

  It was halfway across the dark deck before she could see Leonis and Thulan illuminated in dim green on either side of it, carrying its heavy pot.

  If Leonis was going to set it in the middle of the deck and risk some soldier hurting it, he really was feeling generous.

  But he and Thulan continued closer until they reached the bow of the boat.

  “Careful,” Leonis warned as they lowered it on the far side of Reese. “Watch the branches.”

  “I know how to carry the tree,” Thulan muttered, but she set her side of the pot down gently and backed away so Leonis could adjust it to his liking.

  “What are you doing?” Sable asked.

  “He’s worried about Reese,” Thulan answered. “Thinks somehow a tree can help.”

  “Thulan is worried,” Leonis said easily, running his fingers gently over the leaves. He glanced down at Reese. “And I admit to being concerned.”

  The tree felt…maybe it felt like nothing. Maybe it was just the glitter of the green light that was nestled into the base of each leaf. But maybe there was more, something like the impression of vitalle floating slowly into the air. Like the tree was giving off a faint scent of hope.

  “Thank you,” Sable said.

  Leonis pulled his eyes away from Reese, clearing the worry off his face. “Besides, if the tree’s here, there’s more room to spread out in the wagon. Since the entire crew is too intimidated by you and Reese to come mess with it, it’s perfectly safe here.” He pointed at her. “But don’t let anything happen to it.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Thulan said, taking a step back to look at the bow. “Between the phoenix and the tree, you look rather otherworldly, Sable.”

  Leonis nodded. “As nice of a stage as we’ve ever put together, I’d say.”

  “I hope you’re not expecting me to put on some sort of show,” Sable said.

  “I’m not saying that if you don’t, it’s a missed opportunity,” Leonis said with a small smile, “but it’s a missed opportunity.”

  “Ignore him,” Thulan said. “Serene told us to ask if Reese has a fever.”

  Sable shook her head. “Still cold.”

  Leonis’s smile faded. “Apparently, that’s good, and a fever is really bad.”

  “Shut up,” Thulan said, smacking his arm. “You’re making her nervous.”

  “Me?” Leonis objected. “I brought her my tree! It’s Serene who’s scared of the fever.”

  Thulan gave Sable an exasperated look. “I apologize for Leonis’s presence. And existence.” She started back toward the wagon. “I call the tree’s corner and the three blue pillows.”

  Leonis spun and hurried after her. “No! My tree, my space. You sleep by the window.”

  Sable watched them go, then looked up into the leaves of the tree. Each individual leaf had a tiny light, and the breeze running over the boat made them shiver, blinking out from between each other like little fairies playing some elaborate game.

  It lit the bow with a calm green light, but Reese’s skin looked sicklier.

  Sable ran her finger down the feathers on Innov’s neck, listening to the chirp of frogs from the riverbank and the repetitive, quiet splashes of the oars. Reese’s still form felt like an anchor drawing back all the horror of the day. The battle, the losses, the death.

  Innov leaned into her hand, and Sable desperately tried to draw some of the phoenix’s hope into herself.

  All she felt was the old, familiar longing surfacing again. The air of the river had a wild freshness. The untamed breeze of the forests and the open hills. With every moment, the ship drew farther from Immusmala and closer to someplace better. Someplace free.

  “Will you come with me?” The whispered question slipped out before she could catch it.

  Reese didn’t answer.

  She reached over and took his cold hand. “I have nothing left to offer, and I can’t have more people dying because of me.” She kept her words quiet but pushed the warmth of the words toward him. “I know you’ll say it wasn’t my fault or that many more are going to die no matter what I do. But it will be worse if I’m with them.

  “If I had any way to help, I would stay, but…” She kept her eyes fixed on his hand. “I want to live somewhere quiet, Reese. It can be in a tiny cottage—I don’t care.”

  The idea bloomed in her mind. A small home. Quiet, peaceful. Free.

  She looked at his sleeping face. “You offered that to me once. On the wall on Tutella Island. Do you remember? You said you’d take me away from all of this.”