Fireborn Read online

  “I want him alive,” Marius ordered one of his knights, not the slightest bit afraid of the madman’s threat. “Bring him to me. His execution will be the greatest achievement of my reign.”

  A deep thrum accompanied the knight’s wings flaring to life.

  “With pleasure,” the knight said.

  As the knight rose into the air, Johan bent down, his hand sliding into the folds of his robe.

  “We cannot afford cowardice. We cannot endure peace. Meager lists of demands will not result in justice.” Johan’s hand came out from the robe covered with gold, and this time Marius did feel afraid. “Only war.”

  Marius dove to the ground as ice shot from Johan’s gauntlet. His knights flung into action, one leaping atop Marius, another forming an enormous pillar of stone on the platform, creating a barrier. Marius winced at the heavy weight, the golden armor far from gentle as it jabbed into his skin, but better it than the lances of ice that shattered against the protective wall. He heard screams, coupled with the roar of the crowd. A hand grabbed him, pulled him upward. One of his knights, pushing him against the wall of stone, Jaina propped beside him.

  “Stay here until it’s safe,” the knight said, activating his own gauntlet.

  Jaina bobbed her head, her outer appearance calm but for her wide eyes.

  “Don’t let them escape,” Marius said.

  The knight flew into the air as more gathered on either side of him, watching, gauntlets up and ready. Marius leaned out, glimpsing the battle that suddenly roared about him. Edwin Willer lay on his stomach atop the wooden platform, hands on his head. Lance, meanwhile, had fled into the crowd, frantically shoving his way toward one of the exits.

  “Capture him!” Marius shouted to his knights, and he pointed over the barrier. Likely neither brother was involved in Johan’s attack, but he’d have them questioned nonetheless. One knight heard his command and lifted into the air, hovering low above the chaotic crowd as he chased.

  “They’ll suffer for such foolishness,” Jaina said. She’d spun around and risen to her feet so she could peer over the stone wall. “Surprise means nothing without Seraphim to battle our own.”

  Marius joined her overlooking the battlefield. All across the rooftops he saw dozens of men and women, some wearing brown disciple robes, most not. A few bore wingless gauntlets, like those of his specters. The rest carried bows and arrows, and they flooded the air with their shots. The crowd on the ground swarmed like a stirred hornets’ nest, pushing in all directions against Marius’s soldiers who were attempting to keep order. Many in the crowd were armed with blades, and scattered pockets of battle filled the square. Maddeningly, his soldiers were dying as frequently as Johan’s supporters, overwhelmed from all sides, with seemingly every man or woman a foe, regardless of whether they bore the distinctive brown robes.

  At the very heart of the crowd gathered several women, and they lifted crossbows hidden underneath their dresses. Marius’s eyes spread wide as he watched them fire at the knight he’d sent after Lance. Bolts thudded into the man’s chest and shoulders, and his wings dipped low. With a horrific shriek of metal and crunching of flesh the knight crashed through the crowd. Limbs snapped. Bodies crumpled. Lance, fleeing directly beneath the knight, had only the slightest warning before the knight rolled over him. The sharp, broken edges of the wings tore into his body as he fell to the ground, hidden by the crowd. Marius had no delusions as to the man’s survival.

  “Damn it,” Marius swore, and he pointed to the cowering Edwin. “Get him to safety, now!”

  His knights heard and obeyed, one rushing over, grabbing the man from underneath the arms, and soaring into the sky. Wherever the knight took him, Marius trusted it to be safer than the current battlefield.

  “They’re not retreating,” Marius muttered, returning to the ebb and flow of the battle. He searched for Johan, furious he could spot neither the man nor his corpse. While the chaos on the ground worked against his soldiers, the rooftops were a different story. The angelic knights looped in circles, dodging arrows and occasional shooting lances of ice and lightning back at their attackers. One by one the rooftops collapsed under a barrage of elements. It was clear Johan’s people would be overwhelmed in time, yet they did not retreat. But why? What else could they hope for? Marius was surrounded by knights. It would take an entire army to kill him, so what other objective could they have?

  Marius turned to the nine traitors hanging from ropes over the pit, saw the answer.

  “Cut their ropes!” Marius shouted to a knight beside him. “Carry out the executions this instant!”

  The burly knight drew a sword and saluted.

  “As you wish,” he said.

  He flew to the first of the nine, the former Weshern Academy’s librarian, and hovered in the air before her. The woman’s eyes widened, and she twisted and thrashed as the knight pulled his sword back to swing. He never got the chance to finish. A blast of lightning ripped through his chest. His body went rigid, his wings dark, and down into the pit he fell. Marius pressed his back tighter against his stone shelter as he searched for the interlopers.

  Johan’s Seraphs flew in pairs, six total, one just behind the other, knifing through the chaos. Starting on the outside, the leading Seraphs jerked to a halt before a hanging prisoner and swung their swords, cutting through the rope. The trailing Seraphs barely even slowed, slamming into the newly freed prisoner and catching them in their arms. The pairs then shot away, the burdened three fleeing while the others looped back into the fray, elements flashing from their gauntlets.

  “Weshern’s Seraphim working with Johan?” Marius seethed. “Do they not understand the monster they ally themselves with?”

  “Our knights are faster,” Jaina said, leaning in close beside him to watch. “They won’t outrun them to safety.”

  Two knights chased after the fleeing Seraphim who carried the prisoners, slowly closing the gap between them. Jaina was right; they couldn’t outrun them.

  But they weren’t trying to.

  The Phoenix blasted in from the street below, streaks of flame trailing behind her. Despite racing headlong toward a collision with the two knights, she showed no hesitation, no fear in the slightest. Her entire body twirled as she neared. One knight died instantly, arm and head sliced free of his body. His wings careened wildly to the ground, slamming into a distant home with an explosion of dust and stone. The other knight immediately veered to the side, attempting to flee, but Bree had the better angle. She curled up and around, and now above the knight, she punched downward, using gravity to give her even greater speed. Marius’s knight sensed his vulnerability and twisted in air to face Bree. Lances of ice shot from his gauntlet. Bree dodged with perfect fluid grace, the lances passing so close Marius couldn’t believe she escaped unharmed.

  Bree and the knight collided with a flash of flame. Bree rose higher, hurtling toward New Galen’s square. The knight fell to his death upon the hard stone streets, his wings cut from his back. Marius was stunned by the relief he felt. He knew it would be advantageous for them to capture Bree alive and deliver her into Jaina’s hands for continued testing, but that didn’t explain it, not quite. What then?

  “Incredible,” Jaina said, equally mesmerized. “Watch how she increases her fire just before contact. I doubt she even knows she’s doing it, but that gives her swings tremendous cutting power. No wonder she uses tactics other Seraphim cannot attempt.”

  That was it, Marius realized. Bree was a pure pleasure to behold in combat. She never hesitated, never even showed the slightest moment of doubt. No, the Phoenix sliced through the air as if her entire body were a weapon carving the skies, twin trails of fire ensuring all eyes remained upon her. Unlike other Seraphim, she didn’t avoid proximity or turn in wide loops while fighting for a better angle than her foe. She always attempted to intersect, her path direct, relying on her speed and maneuverability to protect her. Though she warred against him, Marius could not bring himself to cheer for such
beauty to be snuffed out. The only thing that bothered him was that she was foolish enough to ally with Johan’s movement.

  Marius turned to the knights keeping him closely guarded. Recognizing one, he rushed out from protection to grab him by the shoulder.

  “Forget me!” he shouted to Beograd. He pointed to the twin trails of fire knifing through the sky. “Bring her down, and bring her alive.”

  The knight looked as if he were to protest, then shut his mouth and bowed.

  “I obey,” he said, pulling the chain flail off his back. The handle was half the size of Marius, the chain links thick and black, the head a solid sphere of steel with winglike protrusions forming a crown of razor spikes. With a burst of light, his wings carried him into the air, his path directly intersecting Bree’s.

  So far, Bree appeared unaware of his approach as she raced toward the center of New Galen’s square, right into the thick of battle. To Marius’s confusion, she sheathed her right blade, and the fire vanished from the left. What was she trying to accomplish? Was she hoping to enter the battle unnoticed? His angelic knights had turned their attention to the ambushing Seraphim, wisely deciding them the greater threat than the scattered few archers still firing from the rooftops. Three Weshern Seraphs engaged from one direction, and Bree flew in from the other, with Marius’s knights caught in the middle. Marius thought they would hold their own just fine, but then Bree unleashed her fire.

  A tremendous plume of flame flew from her gauntlet. Marius’s jaw slackened as it blasted two of his knights, consuming them completely. Even if a knight had attempted to drain his fire element so quickly, Marius doubted one could do so. There were limits to the power one could unleash, but Bree wasn’t bound to those limits. The remaining knights scattered, dodging the blast as Bree twirled in place, unleashing the flame in all directions. It took only a moment, but the fire ceased, and the Weshern Seraphim raced through the smoke in chase, their own elements flashing from their gauntlets.

  “She must be ours again,” Jaina said beside him, eyes locked on Bree. “We witness the future of our evolution.”

  “That may not be an option,” Marius said as Beograd closed the distance between him and Bree, who redrew her right sword and bathed both blades in flame. The idea was chilling. The Phoenix suddenly able to harness the power of her gauntlet along with the fire of her blades? Only the most skillful of foes could hope to stand against her. No matter how much Marius hoped otherwise, Beograd would be hard-pressed to capture her alive.

  Bree noticed Beograd’s approach mere moments before he swung his enormous chain flail. Marius clenched his jaw, angry to see the knight attack so recklessly after being commanded to capture her alive, but as Bree twisted to dodge, he realized Beograd wasn’t aiming for her but instead her wings. The flanged head passed close, but it failed to puncture the silver metal. Beograd extended his gauntlet as he flew past her, narrow bursts of flame slicing through her path, guiding her upward. Bree looked more than happy to give chase instead of fleeing, following after the knight with a shimmer of silver about her wings. Higher and higher they climbed, bringing their battle to the skies.

  The two whirled about each other in a dance, and oh what a dance it was. Marius watched, enraptured by the sight. Bree was smaller, faster, able to twist and shift her body into curves and arcs Beograd could never hope to achieve. But where she had speed, he had experience, and it seemed the knight knew every move she made before she began it. Bree would chase after him, knifing in at various angles, and Beograd would redirect his path the tiniest bit. Never much, but a rotation here, a momentary drop in speed there, Bree’s swords always left cleaving air. Anytime she overshot, his flail would lash out, the long pole and even longer chain giving him reach her swords had no hope of competing with. Sometimes all it took was a perfectly placed swing by Beograd to convinced Bree to pull off completely lest she be crushed by its flanged head.

  The two circled and circled, while below them the conflict winded down. Another wave of rescuers came swooping in for those hanging in wait of execution. Marius seethed as he saw Argus Summers cut free of his ropes, pulled into the arms of a Seraph, and then whisked off into the distance. The battle was nearing its end, with Bree and Beograd dueling high above and the rest of the knights either scattered, aiding the ground skirmish, or chasing after fleeing Seraphim. Only two prisoners remained hanging from hopes. Marius’s insides boiled. Such a paltry example left to make, but he would make it nonetheless.

  Several knights remained at his side, guarding against any potential ambushers, and he shouted to one.

  “Forget protecting me. Kill the prisoners, now!”

  A knight raised his gauntlet, electricity sparkling across the focal point of his gauntlet.

  “As you wish,” he said.

  He turned to the remaining two. One was a member of Argus’s vaunted Wolf Squad, and a single blast of lightning ripped through his chest. His body convulsed momentarily, swinging side to side, then hung still. The other was the one-handed instructor from the academy. The man had his head tilted back, watching Bree battle Beograd. Bizarre as it was, he was smiling.

  The lightning bolt struck him directly in the forehead, ending that smile forever.

  Two prisoners of nine, Marius thought, shaking his head. Johan already has his victory.

  But perhaps the day would not end as a complete waste. Marius turned back to the aerial battle. Beograd was clearly frustrated with being on the defensive. He was also holding back, that much was clear, unable to unleash his fire for fear of outright killing Bree. When he swung his flail, its aim had to be for the wings instead of the body, for such a heavy weapon would crush her bones like twigs. Bree, meanwhile, flew like a wild creature, using more and more aggressive attempts to close the distance between them. She’d been clipped by the flanged edges of the mace twice, once on her leg, once on her arm. Despite the bleeding and pain, it never slowed her down.

  Bree broke for a brief moment of separation, then dove right back after Beograd in a head-on attack. Beograd swung his flail, attempting to force her to pull back, but this time she continued on, flipping upside down while swinging one arm wide. Her sword struck the flail’s chain, bursting with fire so bright it was nearly blinding. The head of the flail flew free, smashing through the roof of a home. Suddenly weaponless, Beograd lifted his gauntlet, and instead of fleeing, he unleashed the fire of his prism.

  The problem was, Bree did the same.

  Fire connected with fire, but Bree’s billowed forth with far greater strength and volume. It washed over Beograd, melting his armor and blackening his skin. The light around his wings faded, and he dropped limp to the stone of the square. His wings twisted and cracked upon landing, and Marius winced against the shriek of metal.

  With Beograd defeated, Bree looped in the air, surveying the battlefield, then turned to the execution pit. Even from so far below, Marius heard her scream, a keening most appropriate to her Phoenix name. Despite the knights all about, despite the retreat of the remaining Seraphim, she dived straight for Marius, who pressed against his stone barrier, the only protection he had. The knights guarding him and Jaina scrambled, lifting into the air while unleashing bursts of lightning and stone. Bree danced through them. Panic trickled up Marius’s spine. The girl looked possessed. No element would stop her.

  His knights flung up one last barrage, then positioned themselves in the way of her target...except her target wasn’t Marius. Bree’s body arced, and she curled underneath the double beams of wood above the well. Her left sword lashed out, slicing through the rope holding the dead instructor and dropping him down into the dark pit. She never slowed. Body still curled, she rose higher, shooting over the rooftops, fire trailing into smoke behind her as she dismissed the flame of her blades. A few chased, but Marius ordered them back. They wouldn’t catch her, and thinned out, they were a prime target for another ambush.

  The diminished crowd was largely subdued, with most having fled down the various op
enings in the square. Knights still circled above, searching for potential ambushers or disciples of Johan in hiding. Marius walked to Beograd’s charred corpse, torn between anger and awe. The fire on Bree’s weapons was incredible, and she wielded it with a control he doubted she fully understood. Calm and constant when in movement, yet growing into a burning fury just prior to an attack. Combined with her natural grace in the air, it was no surprise she’d already become a fabled hero for Weshern.

  But if her fiery swords could be mimicked by his superior skilled knights...

  “The rescued prisoners are already in hiding,” Jaina said, returning to Marius’s side. “Soldiers are sweeping nearby buildings but it’s a slow and likely fruitless process.”

  “This was an ill day,” Marius said, staring at Beograd’s corpse. “And an overwhelming victory for our foes.”

  “We each suffered casualties,” Jaina said. “And we can afford to lose far more than they.”

  Marius gestured to the crushed body of Lance Willer.

  “We were humiliated before the eyes of the populace, and we’ll be blamed for his death. The damage will range far and wide. Today should have ended any resistance, but it will endure. We must plan a retaliation, Jaina. Something terrible and swift to stomp this out before—”

  He stopped as a knight raced in from the east and slammed to his knees mere feet away.

  “Forgiveness, Speaker,” he said, head bowed in respect. “But we are under attack and need immediate reinforcements.”

  Marius’s eyes narrowed, and he knew the answer to the question before he ever asked it.

  “Where?”

  “The holy mansion,” the knight said. “The Weshern military have stormed the grounds, and they’ve come with disciples of Johan as well as traitorous Weshern Seraphim.”

  The fire in Marius’s breast burned brighter. This wasn’t just a few Seraphim aiding Johan Lumens. This was a coordinated attack by all of Weshern’s former military. If the rescued Archon and his wife also felt they owed Johan their loyalty, today’s bold attacks would be the beginning of the war Johan had been craving for years.