Victory's Price

Wolf - Phoenix - Mollen (Part Forty - Eight)

Chapter 48

This was the closest she had ever come to killing him. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the air.

But she never would.

"I killed it." He whispered.

The air lay still, the ocean cold, the magic dead.

Every muscle in her body trembled.

"Phoenix?" He removed his hand from her palm. "I'm sorry."

He did not know why he apologised but it was important.

She looked at him and in the absence of Star-fire her eyes burned cold. He pretended he couldn't see the parts of her that were already dead. She pretended the parts of her that were alive did not exist.

But her soul lived as her body did and he had seen it respond to his touch.

Phoenix shook again and her fingers shivered over the blade he had sheathed at her side.

She would not draw it. She could deny it as much as she liked but the legacy of her solitude was over.

"I did not want it."

Isolation or magic? But when he looked at her he knew it was the magic she scorned. He could see that the concept of his companionship infuriated her.

He nodded; her subordinate no longer.

"Then we shall walk."

In her tiny maelstrom they had lost a mount but as Wolf looked questioningly back at her she nodded once. A tiny movement and he saw that it pained her. This time they would ride together. The Stars were more important than pride.

xXXx

She was back in familiar land. It felt so very good. And yet Phoenix continued to scowl. Things were going wrong.

The Stars were stealing her guilt and Wolf had stolen her solitude. For this to work, for her freedom to be returned, she needed them both.

Wolf's damp breath crawled down the back of her neck. No more was it a sensation to fill her with adrenalin. It was not her confidence, of this whole world, only he stood even the slightest possibility disarming her. It was trust, dirty, traitorous trust.

And to think, Phoenix had thought Yellow Cat had taken the last of her trust to the grave.

"How much longer do you think it will take us?"

Wolf's mare struggled. She had come a long way over the past fortnight and, light as Phoenix was, she had become burdened with the weight of two riders.

"We will make it to Eyrr by night."

If they pushed hard.

But, from Eyrr's gravel beaches, it would only be half a day's ride. Phoenix did not intend to stop over. By morning she would be home.

xXXx

Eyrr, usually such a quaint little city, was heaving. Moll almost fell from his mount, his body overcome by lack of sustenance, exhaustion and mourning. But a king was not weak, he did not stumble.

"Fay," as the man came hurrying to his side, Moll spoke as though the Captain of his guard was already there. "Fetch me the men from Yole's. If you do not know their names, the people will." Moll paused. "And get someone to find me something to eat."

He walked along the cliff-edge as his men scuttled away, as sickeningly chaotic as flies on a fresh corpse. Down, on Eyrr's famous beaches, the refugees of the city he was supposed to protect were setting up camp.