Scorched (Phoenix Chronicles Book 2)

Chapter 53: Goodbye Phoenix

The sun hadn't risen. The moon vanished from the sky. An eerie darkness fell over the castle grounds, leaving a strange, shadowy grey pallor upon the land cast by the weak light of the stars.

Helena stepped out of the castle, sucking in a breath of frosty air. Army soldiers were being taken to the dungeons until they could be dealt with. They would have an option of course—join her or face execution. Better than anything Bainon or Narissa had offered, murdering people for the slightest hint of Militia ties.

Aundreya followed on her heels, amazed at how much Helena had accomplished in a few short hours.  They'd carried out all the dead found in the castle as well.

"What next?" Mygel asked, her throat croaky and her arms bandaged from being severely burned. She'd nearly died, attacked by Phoenix and apparently Yoro. Helena should have known the Guardian would turn to join his own kind.

"We build a giant pyre. We need to honor those who gave their lives and send their souls onward."

"But just Militia members, right?" Mygel said, stepping up to where Phoenix's body lay. "Not traitors like this one." She kicked Phoenix's body, shifting it a few inches.

"Don't do that," Helena snapped. "Don't dishonor her. She gave her life for the cause—regardless what she did to you."

"What will you do with the Army bodies, then?" Aundreya asked, only half listening. They hadn't been able to find Bainon, and Maverick was missing, too. Helena worried that the king had dispatched his nephew, but Aundreya was still holding out hope.

"Tossing 'em in the river'd be fine with me," Mygel said with a sneer.

"Bite your tongue." Helena slapped Mygel's bandaged arm, causing her to cry out. "We leave no soul left unsent. We aren't animals. Now go—get them working on the pyre. It needs to be large enough to lay them all out. Or stack them, for all I care. But get it done."

Whimpering, Mygel hobbled off. Aundreya eyed Helena. "You care so much about your enemies' afterlives?"

"It's our way."

"What are we going to do without Bainon and Maverick? Are you looking for him? You should be looking for him."

"I have plans of my own." Helena folded her arms, smirking down at Aundreya. "Plans I think you'll like just fine."

#

Roman lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His heart ached, his head pounded, and he thought it'd be better if he'd died, too.

He hadn't gotten there in time. Phoenix had died. The words still rung in his head.

"She's dead," Helena said, gripping him by the shoulders. "Eric Lee killed her."

"What? No!" Roman pulled back. "He wouldn't—couldn't!"

"He did." Aundreya placed a hand on his arm as well, her eyes large and full of sorrow. "We saw him stab her clean through. I'm so sorry."

Maverick and Gwen were nowhere to be found. Roman took little comfort in their absence in the bodies that would soon be burned.

Phoenix's body.

He closed his eyes. If he'd been there, he would have been quick enough to stop Eric, just like with his mother. He'd been too slow.

Noelle, Youlden, and Finny were also missing. Helena suggested their disloyalty, but Roman wouldn't have it. They'd never turn on the Militia.

Something had to be wrong.

Every time he felt like he was on the verge of grasping what it was, it slipped his mind. He felt as though he stood on a precipice, about to fall into a rocky ocean.