The Heirs of Death

1. Behind the Gate

BEHIND THE GATE

Ghostly starlight pierced through the foggy clouds like warriors battling in the dead of night. A heavy fog cloaked the sky as winds stirred and drifted between the swelling waves, whispering the chant of a forgotten lullaby.

It all seemed like a scene scratched from a fairytale. But reality had never come with mercy.

In the far distance, I heard the batting of powerful wings, the sound reaching my ears like a far away cry. A screech shot through the thin air, shattering the pleasant silence. And like the candle burning in the dark, his fire glowed, illuminating the darkness bracing the sky.

The beast flew fast and precise, launching rapidly as though he had fallen from the highest heavens. His fire growled as it came closer, washing my eyes with smoldering amber.

Eyes, the color of scintillating gold, locked with mine. And I waited. Waited until I felt the warmth of his fire kissing my skin, shielding it from the nippiness of the autumn night. Waited until the vigorous wingbeats were nothing but feeble swings.

The Phoenix flared his feathers before wrapping himself around me, mantling me in a warm cocoon. His head leaned on my shoulder, his eyes still staring at my soul.

"Have you found it?" I asked, stroking Téors's plumes.

''No, my queen. This beast has looked through the piles of earth and the skies, but its magic was not found. Are thou sure thou wish to disobey the Court Leader's command?''

''I have given the king my word; I can't allow myself to let him slip away. Ramos will understand in the end.''

''But it is he who had hidden the Book of Astazan. Should he--'' Téors's words died in the passing breeze as he lifted his head, his eyes keen on the cliff posing above our head. ''Fire of the Wild,'' he said in a voice that was breezing air and clacking flames as one.

The shadows moved.

Like a ripple in blackness, a figure emerged, his cloak billowing until the winds swept his hood back. He jumped, landing straight on the sabulous shore, the sand muffling the impact.

His eyes glowed under the moonlight like a raging ocean, deep and mesmerizing. And like the shadows he was, he played it well, following us with no hint of a sound, his soul never alarming my magic.

"I knew you were planning for something the moment I saw you sneaking out the castle,'' admitted Leon, his gloved right hand--the glove a rough leather he always wore when polishing his arsenal--reaching for my bird's fire. He stroked it, the flickering amber gowing to his fingers. ''Ramos has the book until he sees it fit. Planning on stealing it?"

"Something like that," I replied, head tilting and leaning on Téors's. "It has been three weeks since we came back from the Norm and my father is still waiting for me. So, planning on helping?"