Scorched (Phoenix Chronicles Book 2)

Chapter 32:

Eric's heart jumped into his throat, his hands instantly sweaty. Abigail placed one hand on his upper arm, her touch so light he barely felt it. Swallowing hard, he placed one hand on her waist, and she tensed. 

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Something felt different about her, but Eric couldn't place it. Having her practically in his arms again had every nerve firing off at once, and Eric had to concentrate not to accidentally freeze her.

She resisted when he pulled her closer, and he thought his heart might break. "Abigail--"

"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting your fiancee yet," she said, cutting across him. "The two of you must have gotten engaged while I was awaiting execution."

Eric made a noise in the back of his throat and ushered Abigail off the dance floor, pulling her through a door into a small side room meant for servants' staging. He closed the door after peeking out to make sure Narissa hadn't seen. 

"You can't just--" Abigail began, but Eric cut her off with a kiss, cradling her face in his hands. 

She stiffened for a second before softening and returning the kiss. A rush of emotions hit him - desire, pain, excitement, fear - but he couldn't tell which came from him and which came from Abigail.  Eric slid his hands down her neck and moved one arm around her waist. Abigail immediately broke off the kiss, pushing away from him.

"I'm not engaged," Eric said, and a slice of pain hit him in the gut. "Well, I am engaged - but not really. I mean I won't marry her. I just need her to think things are fine." 

Abigail hadn't turned, her back still to him. Her shoulders rose up and her body shook with a sob. Eric's stomach twisted. He reached out to her.

"She has a gift for lying. Narissa's under her thumb, but she still thinks I'm the heir to the throne. I'm not, Abigail. I'm a Guardian." She continued to cry, and Eric pulled her into his chest. "I love you. I'm so sorry, I didn't know they took you. I love you, Abigail." 

He kissed her temple, her hair, holding her tight. "Don't cry. I'm sorry. I thought I was protecting you. I didn't want you to get hurt."

#

Phoenix crept along shadowy hallways, turning into dead ends and growing more and more frustrated. On her sixth disappointing doorway, Phoenix let out a grunt of anger.

"Careful, or someone might hear you."

With a yelp, Phoenix spun around, throwing her hands up against the sudden light that disappeared, leaving her in a blacker darkness. "Altair?" 

Another voice joined in. "Move over. You're standing on my foot."

"Castor?"

"What?" 

"Ow!"

"Would you both shut up?" Altair hissed, bumping into Phoenix. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine--better. Sort of." She still felt a gnawing in her stomach, but she hoped it was just hunger. She hadn't really touched her meal. 

"Is something wrong?" Castor asked, somewhere off to Phoenix's left. 

"No, she's fine." Altair didn't seem to mind lying to keep Castor from knowing the truth, but Phoenix had other thoughts in her head.

"Why are you both here?"

"You're wandering around in your enemy's castle without protection," Altair said. "Where else would I be?"

Phoenix turned toward Castor, barely able to make out his outline. "Eric's with Abigail. I don't watch him when he's with her out of respect." 

"We have a mutual feeling about that," Altair said with distaste, and Phoenix instantly thought of Samson again. 

"Are you here to help me or just to get in my way?" Phoenix asked, fighting a smile. "Because right now you're just making me more conspicuous." 

"I know where the dungeons are," Altair said, hooking his arm through hers to guide her forward.

"Why is it so dark? I didn't have any trouble seeing before you two showed up." 

"We're doing that. Can't be spilling light all around when you want to keep secret." 

"Are you blinding me?" 

"Of course not!" Castor sounded indignant. "Well, I guess we kind of are. But not just you."

"It's more of a locational darkness - no one would be able to see anything within quite a few meters of us. Come on."  Altair tugged at her arm.

"Where are we going?" Phoenix asked.

"The dungeons to find what you've been looking for."

#

Seconds after they all agreed to secrecy, Helena came flying into the room, her voice preceding her.

"Your Highness, my apologies for barging in. The generals were hoping to--" she froze in the doorway, catching sight of all of them. "My what a party we have here." Her gaze flickered to the bed where Gwen and Maverick lay and she cocked her head to the side. "This may be the strangest thing I've ever seen. Is this a western town thing?" 

When no one said anything, all of them gaping at Helena, she narrowed her gaze at the pair on the bed, no doubt taking in their pale appearances, the sweat on Maverick's brow, and the pales of sick.

"What in the hells is going on?" Her voice hit a pitch that made Noelle wince. Helena marched forward, mouth hanging open in horror. "Are they--they aren't dead are they? Are they going to be all right? What happened?"

Finny swooped in, steering Helena back toward the bedroom door and out into the main room. "They ate something that didn't agree with them. They'll be fine. We've taken care of it."

"No! Not fine. The generals want to meet with Maverick this instant." Helena spun around to face Finny, her expression pinched. "They're wavering. They aren't sure he has what it takes to be king."

"In what way?" Noelle asked, stepping forward. "He's done everything you've asked of him."

"I know that," Helena said, looking in affronted. "But they're the ones he has to convince. They aren't sure he has the strength to rule with an iron fist the way he'll need to. He--" she glanced around the room again, eyes searching. "Roman, you'll come with me. And you there...the big one. Youlden. You'll meet with the generals and appease them."

"Us?" Roman glanced at Youlden, his nose scrunching. "What good can we do?" 

"You'll assure them Maverick has what it takes. You're both strong and he leads you so...yadda yadda. Come." She hustled Roman out the door, gesturing to Youlden. "There's no time to waste!"

When they'd left the room, Noelle rounded on Finny. "What madness is this? They don't trust Mav? What do they expect to do, come up with another heir?"

Finny pushed a strand of her salt and pepper hair away from her face. "It's possible there's another heir out there." 

"Wouldn't you know that already?" Noelle asked. "You're a Watcher. Don't you know everything?"

Finny snorted. "If I knew everything I'd be Adonai. I didn't even know Eric Lee was Ares." She shook her head. "No, anything is possible. I've learned not to make assumptions. For all I know speedy out there is another heir."

It was Noelle's turn to snort. "I think we'd know if it was Roman."

"Roman, Youlden, a man named Joe who works in a tailor's shop--no way to know." Finny moved to Maverick's side. "In the end it doesn't matter who the heir is as long as Maverick is safe."

"Do you think Gwen did this on purpose?" Noelle asked, casting an uneasy glance at the woman in Maverick's bed.

"Only time will tell." 

Hey gang! I'm sorry today is so short. I had to stay up to all hours to get my Herculean challenge complete! BUT GO CHECK OUT FATHOMS BELOW!!!! seriously. Let me know what you think (start with Part 5 - the Story) 

But I wanted to make sure you had an update where everyone is and what they're doing. Phoenix is on her way to the dungeons with Castor and Altair, Eric is with Abigail (yay!) and Helena has kidnapped Roman and Youlden for kingly business. 

Thoughts now!