Page 18 of Shrine of Fire

It was all so wrong.

“No,” Zara shouted.

At the sound of her voice, I pitched backward, dizzy, landing on my back. I was back in the altar room of the Shrine. People were shouting but loudest of all was the wailing.

Above us all, the apparition of a woman hovered in the middle of the air. The weight of her grief crushed us all to the floor. Aki was on one knee, a sword raised up in one hand, Valens in a nearly identical pose next to him.

Hashir and Stefan were on their knees, Hashir’s hand outstretched to me, and Stefan’s hands thrown over his face as if to ward off the anguish.

Asano and Rayth braced against each other, Rayth’s face carved in loss.

Zara’s hands covered her face, tears streaming down her face.

The specter hovered in the air. She wore a crown of black spikes on her head, and a long white dress was draped over her figure, like a funeral shroud. Half of her face was beautiful and eerie, but the other half was death itself: a bony cheekbone, hair stringy and bare skull exposed, the eye socket black and empty.

“My children,” the woman wailed. The sound materialized in the room like a heavy mist, rolling over the heat of the flames like it would drown everything in its path.

Grief ate a hole in my heart. I closed my eyes, unable to do anything but endure. But when I shut out the sight, I was back at the fortress, Darrin telling me to stay there no matter what, that they would come get me when it was safe.

I told him no, I wouldn’t let them put me away like I couldn’t help, couldn’t defend the fort.

He was unmovable. He pushed me into the bunker and told me to stay still and quiet. It wasn’t until days later I saw why they wouldn’t let me help. The soldiers were still clearing away the bodies.

It was a massacre, and my pack had known they were going to their deaths.

The world spun around me. I shouldn’t be alive. The spirit—for this had to be a spirit—was right. I should lie down and die, if only to be with those I loved.

But as that ran through my mind, I found myself reaching out toward Hashir, Aki, and Stefan: the men still in this world. I didn’t want to leave them behind. I was caught between love and grief, the living and the dead.

A sharp screech cut through the specter’s incessant wail. The overwhelming sense of desolation began to dissipate, and I could finally think again.

I pulled myself into a sitting position. A giant bird had burst into the room and was hovering above the spirit. Its giant wings were pure flame, arching up in a glorious riot of warmth and colors: radiant reds and oranges, golden yellows. Living fire wreathed around the bird, and its call sent reverberations of warmth into my body.

Kivai materialized next to Zara, pulling her upright. “Honey, snap out of it, you have to snap out of it.”

The death spirit shot to the top of the Shrine and wailed again. Somehow, this time it wasn’t as terrible as it had been before.

Everyone else around me still quivered and flinched, but I was already as desolate as I could be. The spirit couldn’t pull more grief out of me, I already had given all I had to give.

The giant bird dived at the specter who gave one final wail before disappearing. The bird called again as it wheeled through the air above our heads, as if to check the room was safe. Then it closed its wings and plummeted towards the ground.

I jumped up, sure it would pull out of the dive at the last minute, but no. It hit the altar with a dull thud, and an explosion of feathers. The bird’s body lay there a moment, broken on the altar, and then burst into flames.

I pulled at the flaming body to move it off the altar, ignoring the flames, trying to get it into a more comfortable position. It was bigger than me, big enough that I could have flown around on its back if I’d wanted.

When I grabbed onto it, the flames went out and a man lay in my arms, bleeding from multiple wounds. He had golden-colored skin and flame colored hair, and tattered silk robes wrapped around him. There were multiple slashes across his shoulders, arms, and one long slash marred the perfection of his face.

Of all his injuries, the long gash across his stomach was the worst, blood still pouring from a wound that looked recent.

“Hashir!” I looked over my shoulder. Everyone around me was hugging each other, shaking their heads.

Grief still saturated the room, even with the warmth of the bird’s flames. But I was used to pushing my gnawing pain away to focus on other things. “He’s bleeding. I need bandages.”

Hashir shook his head, and whacked Aki and Stefan on the arm. “Come on.”

There was a sudden burst of motion. Hashir brought me bandages. Zara hugged me from behind. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

Kivai stood back and shook his head. “You can try to staunch the bleeding, but that’s a phoenix.”

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