Page 119 of Ruin of Revenants

“Yes, in that case, you could have your vengeance," Archer said, unable to hold back his smile. “But that will never happen, because she never will.”

“All right.” Briar nodded, blinking eyes that were clearly shimmering tears now. “All right. I’ll go. I won’t hurt her. I—” Her throat worked.

“I love you too, sister,” Archer replied. “Glad to know you care about more than your reflection.” He winked and she pretended to scowl. “Be safe.”

She nodded, throwing herself fearlessly back into the shadows.

“Touching,” came another voice, “but you won’t trick me as easily as you deceived my children.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Isoria

King Wystan sneered as he stepped forward, nothing about his movements hurried or concerned. If he feared me or the fire I’d summoned, he showed no sign of it. “I see you’ve seduced and corrupted Archer past the point of him seeing reason ever again.” His ugly face twisted with something that might have been grief. “Your kind is abominable, disgusting, though I’d expect nothing less. It must be true: you are the one Maris spoke of, the one prophesied to assassinate my heir and destroy the throne?”

Prophecy. Maris. His words reminded me of my earlier realization, that I didn’t need to harm Archer. Just one royal would do. I was supposed to ruin the throne, the royal family. But hadn’t I already ruined it by altering Archer’s beliefs and swaying Briar’s mind?

There was only one too stubborn to change. He’s the one I’m meant to kill.

“Step back, Archer.” I placed my hand on his arm. I didn’t want him to have to fight his own father, to bear that sort of pain.

He shook his head despite the sorrow in his eyes. “I won’t let him hurt you.” He took my free hand in his, threading our fingers together.

As the king stepped closer, my flames dancing in his orange irises, I tried to force confidence into my voice. “We have a common enemy, and you’d waste your time attacking me?”

“I know what you phoenixes are. Vermin to be exterminated. There will be no peace in Emberglade until you’re all wiped from the earth.” He raised his sword, and my heart stuttered.

“The bond snapped back into place,” I continued. “If you hurt me, you hurt your son.”

King Wystan’s eyes shuttered as they met Archer’s gaze.

“It’s true,” Archer said. “Vithenna stole some of my memories as the price for breaking it. Isa returned those memories, and so the deal is over and the bond is restored.”

“And you’ll side with her? Against your own father?” King Wystan bit out.

“I don’t want to stand against you.” Archer’s confession was raw. “But if you threaten her, I will. I’ll always choose her.”

The king’s orange eyes burned with fury and pain. “So be it,” he said, dipping his chin. “Then you are also my foe.”

Gritting my teeth, I tugged on my well of power. It was considerably weak again, my strength flagging from the work of wielding both my healing magic and Mortius' power. But it wasn’t depleted yet. The spark was strong enough to half-shift, fiery wings forming behind me.

I glanced at Archer, who understood my look and released my hand. He trusted me to do what I had to.

The king sliced his blade toward me, and I barely had time to take to the sky. He was already moving again, his sword flashing with the swiftness of a striking snake. Archer charged with only his knife, ducking beneath his father’s blade to scoop up his abandoned sword from the cobblestones.

They clashed together in a flurry of flashing steel, my flames the only thing keeping the shadows at bay and the revenants from seeking them out. Every one of their movements was precise and graceful, strong and sure. My heart pounded in my throat, the ache of sorrow traveling through our bond and forcing me to live Archer’s grief with him. He was battling the one who’d trained him first, who’d handed him a sword and raised him to be a ruler, to carry on a legacy.

When I looked at King Wystan, I only saw a monster. Archer saw a father, the male who’d raised him.

Fire swirled around me, chasing away shadows as I rose higher, but not high enough to completely avoid the king’s blade as he took advantage of a break in Archer’s attacks and lashed out. It caught my calf, slicing at my boot. Though Orchid’s magic turned its strength away so it didn’t pierce the leather, the force of it knocked me off balance.

With a cry, I tumbled toward the earth and King Wystan’s waiting sword, glowing red in the reflection of the flames I still held aloft. Stretching my wings, I struggled to move them quickly enough to move out of Wystan’s path. I could feel my strength sputtering out, my hold on my wings growing weaker until I could barely use them. With a grunt, I dropped to the ground as they fell away, disintegrating as if they’d never been.

Archer prowled closer, but the king parried his moves, whirling easily to defend himself from behind as he pressed his attack on me.

King Wystan’s sword swung again and again, Orchid’s shield continuing to protect me when I failed to move in time. I used the final shreds of my strength to launch my flames at him. He dodged them easily, and they snuffed out.

The king spun to meet Archer’s increasingly vicious and desperate attacks now that my magic was failing. They clashed and spun in a flurry so swift their blades were a blur. Meanwhile, shadows were already coiling through the air toward us, warning me that the revenants wouldn’t be far behind. We’d have more enemies to fight, more to weaken us.