The Phoenix Stone

Chapter Twenty Two

(If it's something that I said, I apologize.)

Love, Auntie Mari

Efia had just picked up another note when the sound of approaching footsteps came from outside the door. Throwing the note back onto the bed, she only just had enough time to dive under the bed before the door swung open with a loud creak.

From under the bed she saw a pair of leather boots walk into the hut and right up until their tips were almost touching her nose. The person sighed deeply and dropped another note onto the pile, making all the notes rustle.

"I miss you, Nyx," the man—at least, Efia assumed it was a man given the depth of the voice—whispered softly.

Without meaning to, Efia let out a small snort of laughter.

Immediately the man dropped into a defensive pose and called softly, a warning note in his deep tone, "Who's there?"

"I am," she said, sliding herself out from underneath the bed.

The man—or rather, the boy—dropped the dagger he'd been holding. Taking a tentative step forward he reached out a hand and brushed Efia's cheek.

She jerked away from him, catching his hand and pinning it behind his back. "How dare you touch me, boy!"

He whimpered in pain and whispered, "Nyx, please! Whatever's gotten into you, don't hurt me!"

At the mention of her sister, Efia let go of his arm and folded her own arms across her chest, glaring at the boy. "How do you know my sister?"

"Your...sister?" the boy asked, confusion etched across his moonlit features. "What are you talking about, Nyx? You don't have a sister, do you?"

"I'm not Nyx," Efia insisted, "I swear."

His confusion grew deeper. "But, how come you look exactly like her?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because, dummy, we're identical twin sisters. You know, it doesn't take a genius to work that out."

The boy rubbed his eyes and stared at Efia again. "I'm tired, okay? It's pretty late," he glanced out the window for a second before turning his gaze back to her. "And I'm not really supposed to be in here. No one except Mari is supposed to be in here."

"So how come you are?"

He looked away, embarrassed. "Well...you see, it's a long story but—"

"Let me guess," she interrupted, glancing at the bed full of notes and roses. "You're here because you wanted to deliver yet another note in the hopes that Nyx will one day come back and know that you care about her?"

He stared at his boots, his cheeks glowing hot pink. "Something like that," he muttered.

"You're Evander, right? And you know Mari?" Efia asked, ignoring his embarrassment. She continued without waiting for his answer. "Will you please take me to her? I have urgent matters that I need to inform her of." She strode to the door and flung it open, stepping out in the chilly moonlit night.

Evander hurried after her, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. "Y-yes, of course, Miss—"

"Efia," she prompted with a slight smile.

His eyes widened. "You're Emperor Havel's daughter aren't you?! The one who was impersonated by an Enchantiss, was found out, and then mysteriously disappeared that same night?"

Efia sighed. "I suppose, if that's what you want to remember me by, that is accurate."

Evander led her through the winding passages and up long flights of stairs until they finally reached Mari's suite on the top floor of the enormous stone building that was the centre of Magewell.