A pair of tawny eyes stared back at her, Phenex's lips stretching into a sad smile that said more than mere words ever could. Flecks of dried blood stained his face, while long, angry cuts covered almost every inch of his torso, coated in the strange green substance that prevented him from healing. There was so much pain in his eyes, and yet he still had strength enough to smile at her, to reassure her that everything would be okay.
She knew what was coming. She fought against the figure holding her, screaming at the top of her lungs for him to let go, that they couldn't just leave Phenex behind...
That they couldn't just leave him to die.
Then the weightlessness came and she was whisked away, a blur of dizzying colours surrounding her before her feet hit solid ground again. And there he was, too far away for her to reach, too far away for her to do anything.
Too far away to stop what was coming.
She knew she couldn't stop it, she knew it was pointless to scream and cry. It had happened already, in a time and place her conscious mind knew well, but her subconscious had yet to catch up with.
"No...Phenex!"
Light poured off of him, exploding into golden flame. A magnificent bird stood where he'd been, twice as big as his human form, rippling flames of red and blue extending from his wings and down the length of his tail.
Fire rolled across the ground in turbulent waves, wiping out the hordes of monsters scattered on either side, their cries cut off from the roaring of his flames. Just like before, Gwen had to shield her eyes from the blast, the fire much too bright for her to see more than a blinding white corona spreading out and covering everything in sight.
Even as she looked away, tucking her head against Forneus's chest—the guardian having created a barrier around them just in the nick of time—she could feel the heat rolling over her, snatching the breath from her lungs and creating prickles across her skin.
As suddenly as it had started, it ended. Ashes floated down from the sky, and amid their blackened flecks, something slender and golden caught the evening light.
A feather—his feather, settling into the palm of her hand.
"No," Gwen wanted to cry out, but no sound came. "Please...not again! I don't want to—"
There was nothing she could do to escape it, no plea that would save her from reliving that terrible moment. It was like being hit by a tidal wave, crashing against her and dragging her down, drowning her in a sea of repressed thought and emotion.
Phenex was gone.
"No!"
Gwen woke with a start, surprised to find her face wet with a mixture of tears and sweat.
The dream again. She dried her eyes, acutely aware of just how exhausted she was, almost as if she hadn't been asleep mere seconds before. But really, it came as no surprise anymore. Every time she dreamt about that day, reliving the moment Phenex had sacrificed himself to save not only her but her entire world, she woke feeling less rested than if she hadn't slept at all.
Since Switzerland, the dreams only seemed to be coming more frequently. It had gotten so bad that her training had begun to suffer, as did the private study time she and Forneus took together. Gwen had the sneaking suspicion he knew what was going on, for not once did he reprimand her when she forgot the answer to a question she should have known off by heart.
Sometimes Gwen wished he would, wished they all would. She grew tired of the sympathetic looks whenever she messed up during what should have been a simple practice drill, tired of the averted gazes of all those she passed on the Spectrum's walkways. Hell, she would have given just about anything for Chester to be rude to her again. Anything but the constant feeling that they were all walking on eggshells around her.
It's been seventeen days, Gwen fumed, lowering her feet to the tiled floor. I'm not some delicate little flower! Where was all their sympathy two weeks ago when it actually mattered?
She sighed, and put her head in her hands. The truth was, delicate flower or not, she was vulnerable. Each day that passed without Phenex weighed more heavily on her heart. Instead of dulling over time the way pain was supposed to, it only seemed to worsen, lodging in her chest like shards of glass.
Nine more days until who the hell knows what happens, Gwen reminded herself, the springs in her mattress groaning as she got to her feet. And anything can happen between now and then—the renegades have made that pretty clear. You need to pull yourself together. Otherwise, what he did will have been for nothing.
The self-scolding seemed to do the trick. Taking a fortifying breath, Gwen quickly and silently got ready for her training session.
Ten minutes later she was showered and dressed, and adding one last thing to her ensemble—the phoenix feather necklace—she stepped out into the pyrite corridor, meeting Forneus just as she closed the door behind her.
Gwen didn't know what it was, but some sort of mutual understanding passed between them in that instant; a silent acknowledgement that for whatever reason, they had both woken up pained and haunted by Phenex's memory. Without a word, Gwen took hold of his hand, and the two of them set off for the Training Facility together.
*
"Okay, let's try again." Lonali's voice was high and lilting as she beckoned Gwen over, the same as always when they trained together. But then again, that was just Lonali. As tough and big-sisterly as Lyka could be, Lonali was gentle and nurturing. In fact, when Gwen looked at her, at the set of her shoulders and her kind smile, the word that came to mind was 'motherly'.
If the mahogany-skinned Yakshini ever had children of her own (however a nature spirit might go about doing such a thing) Gwen couldn't imagine her being anything less than a great mother.
Emotion clogged her throat, brief flashes of her own mother flitting through her mind. Going out to dinner at her mom's favourite Italian restaurant whenever she came back from a business trip, her hair piled on top of her hair in gleaming, chestnut ringlets. The time she'd taken Gwen, just the two of them, to her first-ever concert—not to see one of the boy bands that had been so popular at the time, but to see the up-and-coming violinist Gwen had first stumbled across while watching videos online short months earlier. She remembered how her mother had been every bit as excited as she was, brown eyes bright and shining, cheeks pink from the force of her cheering and smiles.
She even missed the little, embarrassing talks they'd had about boys when Gwen was only about ten or eleven, and then again when she was thirteen...
"You need to tap into your centre." The memories popped like soap bubbles when Lonali spoke again, positioning herself behind Gwen and placing her hand over her stomach. If Lonali had noticed either Gwen's sadness beforehand or her discomfort at their sudden proximity, she didn't show it, simply continuing on with her guided instruction. "Draw your power from right here." For emphasis, she pressed the spot directly above Gwen's navel, drawing a gasp from her.
"How do I do that?" Gwen asked. "Every time I've ever used Persuasion, it's been a fluke."
Lonali gently grabbed hold of her left wrist, guiding her arm into an arc much like her own. "Persuasive power involves manipulating the primitive energies of those you hope to control, so in order to do that, you have to call upon your own primal nature." Gwen still didn't understand, but she followed Lonali's movements just the same, allowing herself to be guided into a more upright position with her head held high. "The key is to exude confidence, maintain eye contact, and above all, authority. Make them submit to you."
Confidence. Eye contact. Authority. Gwen took a deep breath, letting it out slowly just like Lonali had taught her. Okay, I think I've got this.
Seemingly satisfied with her posture, Lonali moved out from behind Gwen, tendrils of white hair drifting around her shoulders with the motion. "That should do it. Now, are you ready?"
Gwen looked at today's "volunteers"—all Fifth Unit operatives that Lonali had strong-armed into helping—and tried not to feel self-conscious. It was one thing to face off against enemies, but against the sea of familiar faces staring back at her, half of which looked outright bored? Well, applying the same level of determination that she would against actual monsters wouldn't be easy.
Even after all of the ground they'd covered in the past two weeks, Gwen still struggled to use the full strength of her persuasive power without someone she cared for being in actual danger. It was a stumbling block that both Forneus and Asclepius had agreed she needed to get past, and with the new moon fast-approaching and the renegades up to the gods-knew-what, Gwen couldn't help but agree with them.
It was at that moment that Astral caught her eye, standing almost directly at the centre of the group of operatives. Her nervousness must have shown, for he offered her an encouraging smile, mouthing, "You can do this" as he did.
Gwen offered him a tentative smile in return, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and averting her gaze to hide the colour suffusing her cheeks.
"Gwen, did you hear me?" Lonali's voice snapped her back to reality, frowning at her with concern. "I asked if you were ready."
"Sorry," Gwen replied, face burning hotter. "I just needed a minute, but I'm ready now."
At a silent gesture from Lonali, the group of operatives moved forward, doing their best to appear menacing—and most failing miserably. Still, Gwen had to make herself see them as threatening, otherwise her Persuasion wouldn't work. If that meant calling upon some particularly unpleasant memories, so be it.
Like that day, she thought.
Phenex bound to a platform, smiling in spite of his pain. The sounds of battle going on all around her. A flash of light. Heat washing over her in blistering waves...
With the memory came a surge of power from Gwen's core—only it wasn't the one she'd been expecting.
Instead of the persuasive power—a warm, inviting energy she should have felt rising through her chest and into her throat, where it would manifest with the words she spoke—she felt a far more defensive energy taking shape, crackling beneath the surface of her skin like static.
In a flash of brilliant green, she was enveloped within the ethereal armour, veins of indigo and violet coursing along the creases and casting watery light onto the ground below.
Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, Gwen thought, doing her best to ignore the collective sighs and groans of the surrounding operatives. All but Astral and Lonali, the two looking at her with a mixture of sympathy and concern, brows furrowed with near-identical frowns.
"Sorry, I don't know what happened," she began, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, "I just—"
"Don't worry." Lonali gently laid a hand on her arm, aquamarine eyes bright with understanding. "We'll just have to try again first thing tomorrow. Perhaps if you aren't as worn out from your other exercises, it will come to you more readily."
At this, the rest of the operatives moved away, intent on carrying out some of their own training before the day was done. All except for Astral. The young daemon lingered behind Lonali, his grey-green eyes never leaving Gwen's face.
"I know it doesn't seem like it, but you are improving, Gwen." She glanced up when Lonali said this, the worry in Astral's gaze forgotten as Lonali settled an arm around her shoulders.
Gwen didn't say anything, just nodded, unable to look her in the eye. No matter how kind she was, no matter how gentle her voice—even the few and far in-between times when she'd been stern—Gwen couldn't let her see the shame. How could she explain just what had made her summon the armour, instead? That in a moment of remembrance-filled panic, it had burst to life of its own accord?
Great, Gwen thought, crestfallen. On top of everything else, I'm developing some bizarre, monster-induced form of PTSD. Fantastic.
It wasn't until a hand clamped down on her shoulder, making her jump, that Gwen realized Lonali had moved away to join the others, leaving Forneus in her place.
"I know you're tired of hearing this Gwen, but—"
"Then don't say it," Gwen cut him off. Realizing the words had come out sharper than she'd meant them to, she added, "Please."
"Fair enough." Forneus smiled, seeming not the least bit bothered by her abruptness. "Come, let's take lunch in the Lounge today. You're going to need your strength for what Lyka has in store for you this afternoon."
"Oh, joy..."
This earned a chuckle from Forneus, though it only made her feel marginally better. When Lyka wanted to train, she really wanted to train—meaning that by the time Gwen crawled into bed that night, there wouldn't be a single part of her that wasn't sore.
Heaving a sigh, she followed Forneus to the Training Facility door. With a final wave in Lonali's direction, she just happened to notice Astral, still trailing behind Lonali like her personal shadow. Before she could begin to wonder at his sad expression, the door closed between them, and Forneus was steering her toward the Spectrum's upper levels once again.
*
Seren fled as fast as his legs could carry him, each breath ragged and painful against his broken ribs, though there would be no stopping. Not if he wanted to survive long enough to deliver Celik's message.
Not if he wanted to survive, period.
Though judging from the tremors beneath his feet and the shouts a short distance behind him, echoing between the trees, it was already too late. The stench of sulfur was thick in the air, burning his nostrils so that his nose crinkled up, pulling his upper lip with it so that he could feel his elongated canines baring in a snarl. Catching the glimmer of glowing red eyes at the edge of his peripherals, he hoped he looked a great deal more fearsome than fearful in that moment; that Set's foot soldiers would hang back, giving him just enough time to make it into Ventétas territory.
The thought of going to Tyfónas for help would have soured his stomach any other time, but with Celik and a large contingent of the Whispering Atentatori already captured, his only hope was to appeal to the pact Celik had established with the rival clan and hope they could fend off Set's advance before it spilled over into Regulations Force territory. Between Apophis's myriad generals scouring the globe for renegades to add to their numbers and the amount of operatives popping up, patrolling dangerously close to the clans' headquarters, Seren had known not a moment's respite.
Damn it, Celik. Why didn't you listen to me? Why do you never heed my warnings? And now, you're gone...and I'm left to clean up your mess.
Tears burned the corners of his eyes, as much out of anger and despair as out of fear. Long had Celik been his friend, protecting him from the demonic hordes and guiding him to become a weapon for the Whispering Atentatori—and their shield.
I've failed you, Seren thought. He staggered, open-toed boots slipping on the steep, mossy incline leading into the Californian mountainside before gaining purchase on a bit of shale. I was supposed to protect them, but now there's only me.
A crack split the air, drawing Seren up short so that he skidded, landing hard on his backside and trapping his tail beneath him in the process. Another crack followed the first, and Seren glanced toward a massive redwood on his left, his ears pinned flat against his head as a jagged line broke the surface of its trunk, forcing it to lean precariously toward the one in front of it before both trees went down in a thunderous crash of snapping branches and cloud of dust.
A quick glance revealed the source—Set, his hands pressed against the remains of another redwood several feet back, dark, amorphous energy oozing from his fingertips. A pair of dark, kohl-lined amber eyes met his, teeth flashing in a victorious grin.
"What have you done?" Tyfónas' shrill voice startled Seren from his paralysis, his gaze whipping around to take in the Ventira's horrified gaze.
"The Whispering Atentatori and the Ventétas clans? It seems our luck has improved," Set said, his voice carrying despite the softness of his tone. "Apophis will be most pleased to add you to our forces...once I've broken you, that is."
Seren's last, terrifying vision was of the same dark, amorphous energy rippling around Set in a cloud before exploding into a massive plume that blocked everything else from sight. In the next instant, he was on his knees, clawing at his throat while fire seemed to consume him from within, agony tearing through his chest with each stuttered breath.
Then there was only unforgiving blackness.
*
Forneus winced in sympathy, watching Gwen pick herself up from the Training Facility floor for about the fifth time in as many minutes.
"I really think she's getting better, don't you?"
He turned toward Asclepius, noticing the barest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"I think she'd be doing a lot better if Lyka didn't knock her off of her feet every five seconds," he stated dryly. Then watching as Gwen landed hard yet again—this time on her tailbone—he added, "Can't Lyka hold back just a bit?"
"She could," Asclepius agreed, "but the enemy won't. You know this as well as I do. Now, I know what I said before about no harm coming to Gwen during training. But—"
"Now we don't have the luxury of taking things slowly. Or gently," Forneus finished for him, sighing. "I know. Still, I wish it hadn't come to this in the first place."
"As do I," Asclepius said, absently fiddling with the brooch on his lapel. The illusionary sun overhead gleamed off the violet scales of the lone serpent twining around the miniature, golden staff, barely an inch in length.
Few besides Forneus knew that it was no mere trinket. The brooch was the actual Staff of Asclepius in its concealed form, the symbol of the healing arts the demigod had learned and then in turn had passed down to mortals in his younger years. A staff that, even millennia later, still contained great healing magic within its gilded wood.
Perhaps it was only natural that in thinking of Asclepius's role in healing, Forneus's mind drifted to Phenex's own induction into the healing arts. Under the demigod's tutelage, he had learned to take his gift of self-regeneration and extend it to others. In turn, Asclepius had learned just how potent the healing powers of phoenix feathers were, and together the two had created a reserve of potions that other, non-healing operatives could make use of in emergency situations.
The thought of Phenex, however innocent the memory, still caused a pang in Forneus's chest. After several centuries of friendship, it would take a lot more than a few weeks for the pain of losing him to fade—assuming that it ever did.
Both he and Asclepius continued to watch Gwen's training session with Lyka in silence, Forneus certain that the demigod too was lost in thoughts of his adoptive brother, though why he believed this, he couldn't say. It was just a feeling he had, something in the set of Asclepius's shoulders and the vacancy in his eyes that seemed familiar of late.
Lyka darted in and out from the centre of the makeshift ring she and Gwen were sparring in, striking her lightly and retreating before she had the chance to retaliate. Now that he was giving them his full attention again, he could see that in spite of her obvious advantage, Lyka was holding back—if only the slightest bit. If she had been using her full strength, Gwen would have been covered in more than just a few cuts and bruises.
"C'mon, use your talents," Lyka declared, tapping Gwen on the forehead with enough force to make her stagger, then retreating again. "You're a human. You don't have the speed to outmatch me, so use your armour!"
Forneus choked back a laugh when Gwen actually growled at this, jade eyes flashing as her mouth twisted into a scowl. "You specifically told me that I can't rely on the artifacts' powers all the time." Managing to duck Lyka's next attack (to everyone's surprise), she went on, "Now you're telling me I'm too weak to do anything but rely on them?"
"Are you back-talking me?" Despite the stern set of her expression, there was no mistaking the laughter in Lyka's words.
"Oh no," Forneus chuckled, casting a sidelong look at Asclepius. "I've a feeling Gwen's in for it, now."
Asclepius smiled, his eyes taking on the same playful glint that Apollo's did; only instead of emerald green, his were sapphire blue. "Oh, you have no idea."
At that moment, Forneus was given a fairly good glimpse. Lyka zipped to and fro, lightly striking Gwen each time, moving faster and faster until she was nothing but a blur, the dark tresses of her hair blending in with the fur lining of her coat and her skin-tight leather pants. When she was done, she came to a stop directly in front of them—with Gwen flat on her back, groaning as she rubbed the impact points of Lyka's attacks.
"Ow..."
"Had enough," Lyka said, reaching a hand out toward her, "or do you have some more of that teenage sass for me?"
Both Forneus and Asclepius shared a chuckle at this, the former offering Gwen an apologetic look when she glowered at him. That's my girl, he thought, grinning. It heartened him to know that, even after a tough round against Lyka, she still retained the same stubborn pride she'd had as a small child.
"No, I'm done," Gwen mumbled, turning her gaze from Forneus to Lyka's outstretched hand and allowing herself to be pulled upright. Once on her feet, she gave her right shoulder an experimental roll, and winced.
"Don't be discouraged." She let out a pained grunt when Lyka clapped her on the same shoulder, though the Okami didn't appear to notice. "I know you can do this. You've got the raw ingredients, hon—now you just gotta learn how to cook with them."
"The culinary lessons will have to continue tomorrow, I'm afraid," said Forneus, not missing a beat. "Right now it looks as if our chef-in-training could use a little medical attention."
*
Iris sank lower into the soothing hot springs, releasing a sigh that was not entirely borne of relief.
Nearly three weeks had passed since their plans had completely and utterly backfired. Not only had the units she'd deployed around the world come under attack—those not killed in battle having been taken prisoner by the Regulations Force—the firebird had obliterated more than half of her force. And somehow, even obliterated wasn't a strong enough word for what he'd done.
Scowling, Iris tilted her head back, resting it against the smooth stones encircling the pool's edge, dark brown eyes unfocused as she stared at the starlit sky.
Everything we've worked so hard to achieve, lost. And for what? she fumed. To realize they couldn't take the artifacts' gifts for themselves? That the only reason they granted the daemon power was because it was his power to begin with? Powers that he'd been robbed of the moment the artifacts had all come together, releasing their seals and sending the artifacts themselves back to their places of origin. Or perhaps it was to the places where their owners had been best loved; it didn't matter.
If only I'd known about the fail-safe, she thought, closing her eyes in frustration. But she hadn't known. Hera and the rest of the gods on the council had kept that information under lock and key. If Iris had known that bringing the artifacts together would result in disbanding them, she would have been more careful in laying her plans.
Even so, they had opened the portal to Nowhere, and that's what mattered. True, if they'd been able to keep the artifacts out of the High Council's grasp it would have been much better, but Iris supposed they couldn't have everything.
Except everything was precisely what she wanted, and with the artifacts, she could have had exactly that—everything. With them, she could have overthrown the entire Spectrum, could have overthrown Apophis himself!
But that hadn't happened. Instead, the artifacts had vanished right out from under her nose, and here she was, still in Apophis's shadow. Even after learning that the girl had a connection to the artifacts, that she gained powers from them just as the daemon did, might even be the reason that his powers returned to him at all...Iris still hadn't been able to accomplish what she'd set out to do.
Instead of being a good little victim, the firebird had gone and ruined everything. He had rather take his own life than let some insignificant human girl wind up in Iris's grasp.
Turned out not to be insignificant after all, though, didn't she? Iris mused, a ghost of a smile touching her lips.
Of the few things that had actually gone right that day, the knowledge that the girl was more important than Phenex had let on during interrogation was one of them. That, and destroying the bulk of Iris's forces had been his last act of defiance.
One less threat. With him out of the picture, all that stands between me and the girl is the daemon. And really, what is his power compared to mine?
Still, they would have to be careful. With what Reeves had planned, they couldn't afford to let the girl slip through their fingers again. Their very futures depended on it.
She glanced around at the Japanese hot spring with a sigh, her gaze roving past the blossoming magnolia trees on either side of the flagstone path and toward the teakwood reception house on the far side of the property. Or rather it had been the reception house, until Iris had chased away the humans running it and claimed the spa for her own.
It had been decades since, and not for the first time, she felt her time here was coming to an end. Soon, her safe haven would either be completely taken over by Apophis's elite unit, or destroyed in one of the many coming battles.
With this realization came another: Much as she hated to leave the warm, bubbling waters caressing her skin, she would have guests soon. Rising from the pool with a shiver, she flicked her wrist, and a gown of rich plum appeared, covering from her right shoulder all the way down to her ankles.
Stepping from the pool's edge, she slipped into a pair of open-toed stilettos, and began making her way down the blossom-strewn path.
Yes, she would haveguests soon, very soon. But first,she had other matters to attend to.
*