Page 34 of Sons of Sorrow
Not quite a dragon, but frankly, just as awesome. Maybe even better. And honestly, I really liked how thematic my stable of guardians was shaping up to be. The doves were the very first of my eidolons, and now the others were suitably bird-y, too.
Frederick was a harpy, for starters, and I was pretty sure I spotted a beak on the kraken, kind of like the one you’d see on an octopus. And the ancient tree, well, at some point in time its leafy hair and beard must have played host to one or two nests. See? Bird-y. Avian aesthetic. Very chic. Very apropos.
But maybe that was putting the cart before the horse. Before anything, we had to actually subdue the guardian first. And unfortunately, by subdue, I meant kill. Good thing the guardian’s link to its essence meant it would only be a temporary death.
“It’s so beautiful,” Evander breathed. “Shame that we have to kill it.”
For once we agreed on something.
15
The phoenix roseinto the air with a shrill cry, spreading its wings as far as they would go. The guardian was intimidating us, issuing its challenge.
I swallowed hard, fighting to conceal my fear. I took the smallest of our friends aside. I’d be the last person to underestimate the usefulness of a pixie and a fire sprite in any other battle, but this was far too dangerous for them.
“You boys sit this one out,” I said, with all the confidence of someone pretending to know what he was doing.
Satchel flitted into the air, reached one hand up, then pulled down, unzipping a hole in reality. “Gladly,” he said, tugging on Ember’s wrist.
“Whoa,” Ember breathed, impressed by the pocket dimension, and maybe a bit taken aback by Satchel’s intimate enthusiasm. I barely caught a glimpse of blushing red cheeks before the pair of them disappeared from view. Cute. Very cute.
But the rest of us still had an angry guardian to deal with. Bruna smashed a phial as close to the phoenix as she dared. A spire of ice shot rapidly up from the ground, a copy of the ice potion she’d used to defend us from the fireflies. The phoenix beat its powerful wings in retreat, narrowly escaping being skewered alive.
Another potion smashed, then another, three great crags of ice emanating mist as they reached like talons for the sky. But the phoenix was too quick, spotting the flash of broken glass and the sudden bloom of frost from a mile away.
Metal sang. A gleaming crescent sliced into the air, followed by another, then another. Luna’s boomerangs whirled like buzzsaws, too fast for the human eye. But what about a phoenix?
There it was, a horrible scraping. The phoenix cried out, spiraling as it tumbled, flapping its wings at an odd angle. Luna clipped one of them, but only just. Instead of blood, boiling lava poured from the phoenix’s wound. It hissed and melted stone as it struck the ground.
Luna yelped, dodging the spatter of deadly blood. Bruna pulled her away from the phoenix’s flight path even as the great bird opened its beak. This time it didn’t scream. An enormous plume of fire rolled from deep within its belly, striking Bruna’s walls of frost, melting through them within seconds. Huge chunks of ice shattered against the ground.
“Oh, forget this,” Evander shouted, flicking his hand forward. “Come to me, my pretties.”
A swarm of butterflies appeared out of thin air, hot pink and fresh from the ether, just the way their master liked them. He muttered a word, encasing each of his minions in a mantle of glowing orange flame. An explosive enchantment. If he could punch through the phoenix’s defenses, that thing was going to be in a world of hurt.
But the phoenix didn’t open its beak this time. It rose into the sky, whirled in a circle, and beat its wings. Razor-sharp feathers launched from its pinions, each one like a heatseeking missile, targeting Evander’s eidolons. Every butterfly exploded in midair, a single ear-shattering sound piercing through the many detonations.
It was Evander, screaming. “My babies! My precious babies!”
They would regenerate in time, but that also meant that Evander was all out of heat. Sylvain gulped, then extended his arm to play his hand. I winced, knowing that he only wanted to contribute to the fight, but also painfully aware of the consequences of mixing leaves and phoenix fire.
Burning leaves drifted to the ground as the phoenix breathed a defensive wall of flame. Sylvain cursed under his breath, stepping back as he throttled the assault. Every leaf lost meant he had fewer of them to use for weaponry, or armor, hell, for clothing.
I clapped my hand onto his shoulder, pushing a stream of arcane essence into his body. “Again. Try again.”
Sylvain gave me a reluctant glance, then weakly launched another salvo of leaves. This time they flew with a faint silvery glow, enhanced by my essence. No go. The phoenix breathed another gout of fire, melting my magical defenses, burning the leaves just the same. It threw its head back and screeched at the sky. It sounded like laughter.
I reached for my medallion, my mind racing through my limited options. The minor eidolons were out of the question. I traced my fingers across the gemstones. Frederick’s essence felt dull under my fingertips. I’d just called on him to help us against the fireflies. It was too soon to conjure him again.
Then again, would that even work out? A bird man against a flaming, immortal raptor?
Frederick could buffet the phoenix with all the magical winds he wanted. It would likely just enrage the phoenix, or literally fan his flames and make them burn hotter and brighter. Calling on the ancient tree would be even worse, offering up a pile of vulnerable kindling for a creature of elemental fire.
Sure, I could call on the kraken, but to what end? It was useful in the battle against Queen Aurelia because of all the phials of Wispwater it could throw. Actually summoning the water guardian came with no guarantee that it would arrive with its own sufficient quantity of water. Maybe a mouthful, at best.
No. It was time to call on the unicorns, especially the fourth sister. It was worth a shot. Again the words of the summoning spell fell from my mouth, as easy and natural as breath. This time I followed the conjuration up with a special request.
“Send Swimberly, please! We need her help more than ever!”
