Kindling of Frost and Ashes (Phoenix Chronicles Book 3)

Chapter 37: Losing The Power

Noelle watched the retreat back off of the balcony with growing interest. Mygel grabbed the first vase in her path and hurled it across the room, Aundreya crumpled to the floor in a fit of maniacal giggles, and Helena, pale as a ghost, sucked in a deep breath.

"This can't be," she whispered, shaking her head.

"You saw him, plain as day," Mygel growled, reaching for another vase. Roman plucked it out of her hands at the last second. "His face is all over this castle. It was Tremaine. Did you see who was with him? It was Samson Steele--the Army Second."

"But--but--" Helena shook her head. "He's dead. Everyone knows. He's--"

"Standing in the middle of the town square WITH THE ARMY." Mygel folded her scarred arms. "And judging by the look on your face, he's not the Ancient you've been working with."

Noelle listened to all of it, but her eyes were on her sister. Aundreya lay flat on her back, grinning up at the hand-painted murals on the ceiling. Noelle could hear her humming under her breath, but couldn't make out the words under Mygel's tirade. She stepped closer.

"I'm going to have an Aaaaancient. I'm going to rule the wooooorld." Aundreya's eyes flicked up, seeing Noelle. Her grin twisted. "I'm going to be an only chiiiilld."

Cold fear flooded Noelle, and she backed away, bumping into Roman.

"It's starting," he whispered low in her ear. "They're here. Be ready."

"What?" Noelle turned, but Roman was already on the other side of the room as if he'd been there all along. Suddenly his words hit her, and the strange vision she'd had in the meeting the day before no longer felt like a dream.

They were coming. They were coming for Roman, for her.

"Would someone please explain what's going on?" Roman asked, his face the perfect mask of confusion with his dark brows scrunched low on his forehead.

Helena seemed to have steeled herself, her jaw set even as Mygel raged on.

"Tremaine--the dead king from one hundred years ago? He was out in the town square. Unless-" she turned to Helena. "Could Tarvril's heir have looked that much like him?"

"No." Helena's voice had a hard edge Noelle hadn't heard before. "Gwen is Tarvril's daughter. He didn't have a son." She turned toward the balcony. "But they like to play, don't they?"

"What are you talking about?" Roman asked, and this time Noelle could see true concern in his eyes.

"They thought they could unhinge us--break into the castle and put us on edge. Now this nonsense stirring up the city. They think they can get rid of me. Of us. Castor and his little games."

"Who?" Mygel asked.

"Castor's the Ancient. That was him. Risky to come so close, but then, I knew who he was the moment he saved Eric Lee."

Aundreya, who had stopped her little song, stared at Helena upside down. "What about Tremaine?"

"It's Canya. The shapeshifter." Helena glared at Mygel. "This is all your fault."

"My fault? This is Yoro's fault. He's the one who never killed the baby. If that boy's out there--"

"Of COURSE he's out there! Look at that sky!" Helena pointed at the closed balcony doors. "He's here, and if you don't get rid of him, we're all sunk." She whirled around to the now disappointed Aundreya. "Get out there and find that boy. Bring him back to me."

"You want me to go out there into that?" Aundreya sat up, nose scrunched. "They'll tear me apart. No thank you."

"Take Noelle. Guards!" The door to the room opened and a man in Militia garb stepped in, but Noelle almost choked. She recognized him from the dungeons--Corporal Ruter, an Army soldier whose wounds she'd tended to.