Page 10 of Phoenix Chosen 3

She wordlessly holds out her hand.

“Alright, fine,” I say, clasping her palm. “That’s a deal.”

“Good. Then you’d better get moving. The twins will help you. If they disguise themselves as a fleeing phoenix and his mate, perhaps they may be able to draw watchful eyes away from you.”

It’s a good plan. Aylourosi folk are well-known masters of deception.

I wake Tyler and tell him what’s going on, and we prepare to leave. He ties the egg to his chest, and Zona gives us hooded traveler’s robes to help conceal ourselves. The twins wear the same, and as they slip the hoods over their heads, they both change their posture and bearing to match Tyler’s and mine. It’s truly impressive.

Our departure is fast and without much more than a quick bow. Tyler thanks Zona, but nothing more needs to be said between her and I. Xanthos and Xanthe leave first from the main entrance, and then Zona ushers us out the back door into the dark alleyway.

“Gods guide you,” she whispers before shutting the door behind us.

Quickly, we reach the street. The scent of the Athenos night air is invigorating. I can smell familiar spices wafting from a nearby kitchen and the warm aroma of baking bread in the communal ovens. We pass a statue to the god of fortune laden with wreaths of dried astragalos and hyacinths, withered but still pungent. The stone altar, now cooled, is black with soot from the day’s offerings. Quiet laughter rings from somewhere. Someone is playing the flute, and cricket song whirrs out from within the sagebrush and thyme growing along the base of the retaining wall that lines the street. Up above in the night sky, the hazypurple glow of the river Theoheles has begun to shine through the clouds.

No morekahbeasts. No more relentless noise or the blinding chaos of Gaea’s stone cities. Circeana has welcomed me home, though I only have the span of a breath to acknowledge it. I must stay alert.

We ascend a sloped path that takes us out of the slum district to Athenos midtown, the busiest area of the city. This is the same district where Airos’s Library of Gnosis is located, where we’d been ambushed by the Erpetosi frogmen and the soul reaver that pulled Tyler and me to Gaea. I suddenly remember the librarian Melanion and his sacrifice attempting to defend us from the dark monster—and the way it’d stolen his face. A shiver goes through me. Damn reavers.

The west gate lies just past a wide plaza with a towering and triumphantly posed statue of the goddess of war gazing up at the hill where the city’s grand temple sits, twinkling with light from its internal lanterns. We hurry across the moonlit plaza. It’s still and empty. A lone owl perched on the roof of a nearby building spots a rat scurrying across the limestone ground and snatches it without making a sound. I can see the wall from here with the blue banners of the city hanging from the battlements.

My eyes are locked on the wall. We’re so close.

I lead Tyler down a stone staircase to a gravel road parallel to a small stream. We cross a wooden plank bridge and enter the Avenue of Generals, the walkway everyone entering or leaving through the west gate has to pass through, enclosed on both sides by plinths supporting four bronze statues of great warriors and leaders from the city’s past. Between each statue is an ironbrazier burning with a heap of charcoal. Their light flickers across the stone paving, polished and shiny from the thousands of feet that step through this passage each day.

“The gates are shut,” Tyler points out. “How do we get through?”

“The main gates are closed at night,” I explain. “There’s a side passage we can use.”

I glance at the statues towering over us out of the corner of my eye, frozen in their stern poses like giants struck by a gorgon’s gaze.

“Do you feel that?” Tyler hisses under his breath. “Or am I just being paranoid?”

Ido. It’s the feeling of being watched. It’s not because of the statues.

“Stay with me,” I say to him.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he replies, glancing around nervously.

I slow my pace and stop. Tyler stands close, his back against mine.

Then I see a dark figure moving at the base of one of the statues.

“You’ve been spotted,” I announce loudly. “Enough. Show yourself.”

Two more figures appear up on the plinths, standing beside the calves of the statues. Human? It’s difficult to tell in the dark,even with the firelight. Their silhouettes tell me they’re armed—a sword hilt on one, a small bow draped across the back of another.

Ahead of us, a cloaked figure emerges from behind the cover of the plinth and walks into the center of the path, blocking the way to the gate. They draw back their hood. Tall pointed ears, long snout, fur, and a pair of vicious yellow eyes glowing from the darkness. They’re one of the Hulaiosi wolf clan.

The others remove their cloaks. The one with the bow might be human. The other with the sword is also a wolf.

I touch my chest and curse under my breath when I remember I have no weapons.

The leader steps forward, and as the firelight falls across his shaggy gray fur, I realize I know who he is.

“Praxis Skotos,” I say angrily.

I feel a dark cloud passing over me, one I’ve not felt in many years. I thought I’d released this hatred.

---