Meical’s loud voice boomed through the forest. “We have the recipe. We’ll just make it ourselves.”
Jovi nodded, but since she’d never even cooked a meal, how would she concoct a potion?
She shrugged to herself, I guess I’ll just have to figure it out.
Belisandre slithered through the shadows within Beastly Pass as growls and snarls surrounded her. The beasts here dared not attack her, though. Perhaps she smelled differently than the others. Somehow, the animals knew her magic would kill them and not a single one of them wanted to die today.
It was a good thing because she wasn’t in the mood to kill today, either. Although, taking a life had made her skin sing and her heart thump. She’d forgotten what it had felt like.
Not anymore.
She paused at the end of the dark forest, taking her time as she examined her next course. The Mammoth Fields lingered ahead, and although the warrior’s camp hadn’t sat close, guards were posted all around the perimeter.
The Fire Mages attacked regularly, from what she’d heard.
She hoped she’d heard right.
She counted on the Mages being close because she had a proposition for them.
A Mammoth Rider circled close as he marched right in front of her. He never saw her through the shadows.
They should know better, she thought. The shadows hide scary things.
She stifled a laugh, and crept forward. With magic, anything was possible. There were no trees here, no cover at all, but she created her own shadows by waving her hands around her body. She kept the movement going until she reached the other side and took the first step into Frostspher, the Land of Snow and Flame.
She saw why. Her feet slipped across iced-over snow, but not for long as it melted away. A dry, burned field drove the smell of smoke through her. A cough hung at the back of her throat, but she didn’t release it. She wouldn’t want to alert the Fire Mages too soon.
They may not be happy to see her. She’d make sure they were, though.
She reached her hand into a pocket on the front of her purple dress and squeezed the vial in her hands. The cure, enough for one person.
With the means to make many, many more. At a steep price…
The dry ground turned black and fires loomed around every turn. No trees grew here, only bushes that at one time may have been frozen, but now bloomed with red and orange flowers. Perhaps the Fire Mages had planted them, their own attempt to add a little decoration.
Flowers died, but the Mages never would. A fact they didn’t know a thing about.
But Belisandre did, and she’d be happy to share everything, but only if they agreed to help her.
Ahead, red tents sat in a circle as a bonfire blazed in between them. Maroon-robed figures danced and laughed, relaxing after a hard day’s work.
Belisandre crept to the fire, hidden from the Mages. Instead of releasing the shadows around her, she kept them strong and listened.
“We lost three of our own today, Phenix. I don’t think going after the girl is wise right now. We don’t have the numbers, not anymore. With our attacks on the Mammoth Riders, we’ve lost more than we’ve gained.” The Mage paused, running a hand through his fire-orange hair. “In fact, I can’t see how we’ve gained a thing.”
Phenix rose and walked around the Mage that spoke against him.
There, Belisandre noted. He’s the one in charge, the one I must speak to.
Phenix curled his arms around the Mage’s neck, almost like a caress, but Belisandre had seen the threat. “Perhaps, Brand, if you question my leadership, you’d like to challenge it.”
Brand’s skin paled. “That isn’t what I meant.”
Phenix squeezed and Brand’s face turned red, like it might pop like a pimple at any moment. “Good, because I wouldn’t want to do anything I couldn’t reverse…”
Brand choked and gasped for air as he clawed at Phenix’s arms. He pulled, desperately trying to tug them away. When he went limp, Phenix released him and he fell to the ground in a lump.
Phenix rubbed his hands together. “Perhaps, Brand, you will think twice next time you try to speak against me.”
Brand crawled to his knees and rubbed at the darkening bruise forming around his neck. “I will, Phenix. I will.” The words choked out of him.
Belisandre smiled. Phenix was exactly who she’d been searching for.
Before she had the chance to release her magic, three Fire Mages barreled into the middle of the camp, dirt smudging all over their faces and any other exposed skin.
The first met Phenix with wide eyes. “You buried us alive?”
Phenix cocked his head to the side. “You were dead.”
The second grunted. “Obviously not.”
“But you were. I saw it, too,” Brand said from his seat.
As they pondered the news, Belisandre unwound her magic and dropped the shadows from around her, revealing herself. “Hello, Fire Mages.”
Their hands raised, fire hanging from their palms. They were ready to spring at any moment. She saw each of them out of the corner of her eyes, but her focus remained on the leader.
A smug smile crossed Phenix’s face. He rubbed his short red beard. “What do we have here?”
She moved forward and the flames did nothing to hold her back. Her magic would kill them all and she knew it, even if they didn’t.
And to think, one time, long ago, she had been a Mage herself.
How glad she’d been that she found a way to grow more powerful, and all it had taken was guidance from her mother. Belisandre had thought her mother had been just another Frost Mage, but her mother had secrets up her sleeves as well. Deep, dark ones. The kind Belisandre cherished. The kind that gave her mother a defining scar on her face.
Perhaps those extra dark secrets could be used to get her way sometime down the road, when the Fire Mages loyalty waned. As she knew it would. Although, she would appreciate not having the scar. She liked her face the way it was.
She circled Phenix, starting at his side, then moved behind him, and ended standing in front of him again. She dragged her nails across his back along the way, and stopped with her hands hovering at his side. “I am Belisandre, and I’ve come for your assistance. I also have some answers about your once-dead-newly-alive Fire Mages.”
He raised his red eyebrows. “Have you, now? And what can we help you with?”
She wasn’t stupid. She knew the Mages fire still aimed all around her. Phenix might be intrigued, but he hadn’t ordered them to lower their hands so she forged carefully ahead. “Where are your women?”
Phenix shrugged at her. “Probably back at the tents. They are free to do as they choose. To spend their time as they wish.”
Belisandre nodded for she heard the unspoken words. The women still spent time with their men, but without the ability to create heirs for them, they probably chose to spend more time amongst themselves than with their men. Of course, Belisandre hadn’t known any of this for sure. But, she could guess it hadn’t been easy around here for any of them. It was time to come clean. “I assume your women love you and wish to spend as much time as possible at your side. But, their hearts will never mend fully.” Phenix raised his brows and Belisandre took a breath. She continued. “I know all about the curse. Ordered by King Ryan, but executed by a sorceress.”
Phenix’s eyes widened. “You are the sorceress who did this to our women? Made it impossible for them to ever know the joy of having their own child to hold, cherish, or love? How can you stand here in front of me?” His breathing grew heavy, like the thunderous booms snapping through the sky.
Belisandre opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Phenix’s hand struck out, fingers squeezing her neck. “You shouldn’t have come here. It wasn’t wise.”
Being choked wouldn’t kill her. She’d made sure of that. In fact, she barely felt the coiled fist blocking her airway. But, she needed to be able to talk, so she touched his hand and released a jolt of her ma
gic into him, shocking him. When he dropped his hand, and flicked it at his side, she took her chance.
“I did release the curse, the same one that made your kind Immortal. Have any of your kind died from battle wounds? From cuts, disembowelment? No, I bet the only way any of your kind actually dies is from a severed head. Not many can come back from something like that.” She snickered at her comment, then met his eyes as she reached into her pocket. “Your Immortality stemmed from the same curse. But I have just the thing to cure the bad part of it, while leaving the good.” She held up a vial of the cure. “This is a show of good faith. This will cure your women. We might not know right away if it works, but you can trust me when I tell you it does.”
Phenix pressed his red lips into a thin line as he stared at the vial. “Say I believe this vial actually holds the cure. Why would you leave our Immortality with us and save our women? What, exactly, do you want in return?”
Belisandre shook her head. “The only thing I want is your help.”
Phenix eyed her, full of suspicion, but after several quiet moments he took the vial from her hand. “Well, if it works, you will have our help.” He started to walk toward the tents.
Belisandre stopped him with a hand to his upper arm. “We won’t know for a while. And I need your help now.”
Phenix peered over his shoulder. At first, he looked at her hand on his arm, and then into her eyes. The gleam from the fire shone brightly on her face. “We will know. See, as Mages, we can detect the moment our women are impregnated. That magic was built inside us, so we could always protect the women above all else. So, we just need two willing participants, and I know just the two. If you will wait here, I will return momentarily.”
How could she have forgotten about that part of their magic? She’d changed her own so much she hadn’t remembered anything about her old Mage abilities. But, that was what happened when you studied under a dark sorcerer, one her mother had grown quite fascinated with. Black magic now crawled through her veins.
Phenix remained staring at her as the thoughts bombarded her, so she waved her hand and gestured for him to go, but also covered her body with a protective shield. Nobody could see it, but she felt it, and a calm washed over her.
Fire couldn’t kill her, but it would hurt her, and not one of the Mages had lowered their fiery hands. They could launch their flames at any minute, and burns weren’t something she wanted to deal with tonight. She already had enough on her plate.
Phenix turned, disappearing from view. The minutes passed by and yes, still, she waited.
When Phenix came back into view, he pulled a Mage-woman by the elbow and forced her to her knees in front of the fire.
Her long black hair had red and orange streaked throughout, the flame from the fire making it seem to glow. The woman burnt with a beauty Belisandre hadn’t seen in a long time. When her wide, charcoal eyes met Belisandre’s, they shone with gratitude. “Thank you.”
Phenix shifted and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Do not thank her yet, Aine. We must make sure it works first. I told you in the tent to make sure you didn’t get your hopes up, just in case.”
Belisandre tilted her head, a smirk plastered on her face. “The cure works. I made it with my own hands. I would not stand in the middle of your camp, where I would surely lose my life for lying to you, if it wasn’t a true cure. Where is her husband?”
Phenix pointed to Brand, who now stood with the group as he held his flame hand in the air toward her.
Belisandre shrugged. “If Brand is her husband, then the testing can commence.”
“A test. Yes. Brand,” Phenix barked and the Mage straightened, shuffling to the front of his leader. “We require proof that this cure indeed works. So, give us proof.”
Brand widened his eyes. “Here?”
Phenix sighed. “No, not in the middle of the camp like a dog. Take your wife to your tent.”
Brand took hold of his wife’s hand and pulled her behind him, where they soon disappeared into their camp. Belisandre shifted, wishing she had a place to sit, but she wouldn’t ask for any such thing. Not now. When they found out the truth of the cure, they’d bring her a seat that was fit for a queen. Until then, she stood like the rest of them. And she kept standing, for at least twenty minutes—not very long at all to satisfy Aine, Belisandre was sure—until Brand came back, a smile on his face. He tugged Aine in front of Phenix and released her.
Phenix smiled and held his hands above her own. “May I?”
She nodded and Phenix grabbed her hand as his whole body began glowing with a luminescent yellow light. After a moment, he faced Belisandre and not a flicker of emotion passed over his face. Although when he faced his people, he didn’t hold back the grin that stretched over his face. “It has worked. Belisandre has given us a cure for our women. They will once again be able to be mothers and grow our children in their womb. Drop your fiery weapons and cheer.”
Loud roars of triumph broke through the camp as Phenix came close to her, close enough that she felt the heat from his skin as it danced over her own. “You didn’t lie to us. So, tell me, what is it you want help with?”
“It is time to claim what is ours. The Frost Mages have taken everything for themselves. It’s time they found out what it feels like to have nothing.” Belisandre glided forward, then turned to face the other Mages. “They leave you this tiny part of the land of Frostspher, while they take everything else. Even the name of this place caters to them. You mean nothing to them, so they continue to fight you, to rid the world of the likes of all of you. It’s time we stand against them. As one.” Belisandre rolled her hands into fists at her sides. “They have food, but do you? No, I can see it in your eyes that you hunger for it.” She took a deep breath. “We need to strike at them now, while they are vulnerable. If you help me, you will have the cure for every one of your women. This I promise.”
Phenix ran a hand through his hair. “You might be right, Belisandre, but how do you suppose we do this?”
She grinned and rubbed her hands together. “They are at the castle, waiting for a false cure I gave to Princess Jovi to give to them. This ‘cure’ will save King Ryan.” She made quotation marks around the word “cure.”
Phenix sliced a hand through the air. “We do not need to save the King. In fact, if we are to help you, he must die for what he did to our people. The curse he ordered didn’t only affect the Frost Mages, but our people as well, and we had no part in what happened. I want him to die.”
Belisandre sighed. She’d had a feeling it would come to this. The King had always been kind to her, but his life mattered little against the big picture laid out in front of them all. Central Orendor needed a new ruler, one that had heart and compassion, but also one who could be relentless and cold-hearted when needed. King Ryan had heart, but never ruled. Not anymore. Not since the death of his son.
His life could be forfeited, so Belisandre shrugged. “Done. It matters little to me. Now, what I need from you is help with the attack. We must work together to defeat the Frost Mages. If your army is not disciplined, we will lose.”
Phenix walked forward and came face to face with her. “They are disciplined.”
Belisandre smirked. “Perhaps in your eyes, but I will have to see them in action to know for sure.”
Phoenix’s eyes traveled to hers, and a sexy grin spread across his face before he closed the distance between them. “I think there is only one Fire Mage in this entire camp you want to see in action, and he’s standing right in front of you.”
A blush crept across her cheeks, heating them, and she cursed her own reaction. Instead of turning away, she stared into his dark eyes. “Perhaps, and if I do?”
He pulled back, just enough that Belisandre had seen the red that crept over his cheeks. “If you do, it can be arranged.”
Interesting. I have a feeling about this one, she thought with a smile.
Phenix leaned forward and his lips tickled her ear as he whispe
red. “We will be ready. Just tell us when and where to meet you. I will do anything to get more of the cure.”
Belisandre steepled her hands. “Perfect.”
That had been easier than she’d thought it would be. Sure, there’d been a hiccup when they first started, but Phenix…well, he was more interesting that she’d imagined he would be.
In fact, a flutter of excitement flew through her belly when she thought about all the fun they could have together.
Evil melded very well with evil, and if she knew nothing else, she knew pure evil boiled in Phenix’s blood.
Meical would do nothing until he buried his fallen friends, so Jovi found a shovel that rested against the side of the cabin and got to work. The hole needed to be deep, so she aimed the metal point at the ground and tried to use her arms to grind it into the earth, but she wasn’t nearly strong enough. She stepped on the top of the shovel with her good leg, but to get it to sink in the ground, she’d need to use both legs to stand on it, and she couldn’t do that. She huffed and went to toss the shovel to the ground, but Bastien grabbed it before it could fall.
“I’ll take it from here,” he said.
She’d never been more grateful for help in her life.
Cappa worked on the other hole with Meical, and soon both pits were dug and ready to bury their friends. Gently, Meical laid each body in its grave. He picked two white flowers that grew on a tree by the pond. One by one, he kissed each flower and let them fall onto his friends. He closed his eyes and looked to the sky for several seconds as his lips moved, but no words came out.
Jovi didn’t know what to say. She’d thought his warriors were nice, but she hadn’t known them well at all. So she said a prayer for them to rest in peace and helped her uncle bury them.
Meical and Bastien cut branches from trees and carved them down until he made two wooden crosses, sticking them at the head of the graves.
Then he rubbed his hands together. “My friends are now buried respectfully, although I’d rather them be with their own. Nothing can be done about that, though. At least they can rest here, under the peaceful breeze blowing through the trees and the ripple of water. It isn’t such a bad place to be buried.”