Cyrene flipped her wrist, withdrawing the second coin from the in-between space that she had left it in. The same place she had kept the diamond hidden to protect her from Malysa. Both safe and sound and out of Malysa’s reach.
She grabbed Fenix’s hand and opened the portal.
She hastily dragged him through and smirked at Malysa as she screamed at them to stop her. “I am my own. And always will be.”
Then she closed to the portal and stood in Aonia.
“Sarielle,” she screamed, igniting her Doma Fire. “Healing! Quick!”
The dragon appeared then. You made it out.
“Yes, but Fenix.” She gestured to the man, pulled the claw out of his gut, and tried to fill him with light magic. Fill him with everything she had. Gave and gave and gave.
Soul sister, Sarielle said. His time is over.
Cyrene leaned back on her heels and stared down at his bloodied body. Those vacant eyes. The blueing lips.
She reached forward and closed his lids.
Mission accomplished.
Then she screamed until her voice was hoarse.
51
The Return
Cyrene flew into Byern just as the sun began to crest the horizon. She saw the troops beginning to get into formation for the next day. The next slog of a war. But she felt nothing. She was tired of playing by everyone else’s rules. This might be how wars were won, but this was not how she could beat Malysa. Not if she wanted anyone else to survive with her.
Sarielle landed in a clearing. Figures were already running toward them from the edge of the camp.
Cyrene slid down Sarielle’s back and eased Fenix’s body down with her air magic. She set him down on the ground. Then, she touched Sarielle’s mind with her own. This was going to be hard. She had known it would be either way when she agreed to this mission for Rhea. But…she had never once believed it would end this way.
“What were you thinking?” Avoca demanded as she stormed toward her across the plain.
Cyrene looked at her with clear eyes and said nothing.
“You went to face her alone? You could have been killed!”
“Where’s Rhea?” Cyrene asked.
Avoca shook her head. “You won’t even speak for your actions?”
“Right now, I have no interest in justifying myself to you or anyone,” Cyrene said with a sigh. “But I do need to speak with Rhea.”
Avoca seemed to realize for the first time that there was a body on the ground. She gasped and pulled up short. “Oh Creator.”
Then Rhea appeared. “You made it back! You did it!”
“Rhea…I’m…I’m so sorry,” she said, her throat thick with emotion.
Rhea pulled up short next to Avoca. She had found the body much sooner. “No,” she keened, the word turning into a long, mourning wail. “No. No. No.”
Cyrene stepped toward Rhea as more onlookers gathered. “It was a trap. He’d been forced to write the note. She was waiting for me all along. I tried to portal him out, but she stopped me and threw him into a pit for her new creature. I fought and killed it. But by the time I got us back through the portal, he…he was gone.”
Rhea jerked her head side to side. “You were supposed to rescue him! You were supposed to protect him! You promised, Cyrene. You promised!”
“I know. I did everything that I could.”
“It wasn’t enough,” Rhea shouted. Tears fell from her eyes, tracking down her cheeks as she exploded with rage and grief. “You didn’t do enough! You said you’d bring him to me. It was the only thing I’d ever asked for.”
“It’s my fault,” Cyrene agreed without an ounce of guile. “I should have done more. I never should have sent him. But, before he was gone, he told me that I had to get back to you because you needed me. And…that he loves you.”
Rhea swallowed and pushed past Cyrene. She fell to her knees over Fenix and sobbed. Great, big, racking sobs that made her chest heave. She dropped her hands onto his chest and let tears fall onto his shredded clothing.
Cyrene watched on with desperation. She knew there was nothing that she could do. That there was nothing any of them could do.
They were in a war. People died every day. But there had been hope here. And hope could crush and kill just as easily.
A hand touched her arm. “You’re back,” Dean said with relief. “And injured.”
She winced as he brushed the wound down her back.
“We need to get you to the healing tents to see Rita and Vera.”
“It’ll heal on its own.”
Avoca took a look at it. She hissed low. “Healing tents at once.”
“I’m fine,” she argued. Then she tried to take a step, and all the adrenaline left her body. She bit out a cry as she landed on her leg. And suddenly, she realized that she could still feel the fire in her back. “I…fought the Voldere. They might have poisoned talons.”
“Cyrene,” Dean breathed on a sigh. Then without a word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the healing tents.
“Well, you’re not going to die,” Lady Cauthorn said, nodding her head at the healer woman who was exiting the tent. “But you’re going to have one nasty scar down the center of your back. I’m thinking no backless dresses from now on.”
Cyrene managed a small smile. “Or only backless dresses to remind people of how much of a badass I am.”
Lady Cauthorn shook her head. “You always did have spunk.”
She handed Cyrene a new shirt, and she pulled it on over her head. The healer woman had also reset her knee. Coupled with her natural healing, she actually felt better than she had in a while, a shiny and brand-new.
Dean poked his head in. “Is she done?”
“Yes, boy, come on in,” Lady Cauthorn said. She winked at him. “Go easy on her.”
“Thank you, Rita.”
Dean waited for Lady Cauthorn to leave, but Cyrene cut in first.
“Are you going to yell at me, too?”
He slowly breathed out. “No. I understand why you went.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you? Because I’m starting to think it might have all been a fever dream.”
“It was a selfless act. You did it for your friend.”
“Yeah.”
“Even though I kind of want to shake you for not taking me along and making me find out from Rhea.”
She sighed. “I just…figured you would have stopped me.”
“I would have,” he said, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “Anyone would have stopped you, except Rhea, in that situation.”
“And now, Rhea is going to hate me forever.”
“She won’t. She doesn’t really blame you.”
Cyrene shrugged, pulling on her fighting leathers over the soft shirt.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To lead my army.”
He pushed her back down onto the cot. “You almost died. How about you give it a rest for a day?”
“I can’t. Malysa made it seem like her final attack was coming soon. And I’m tired of playing by the rules. I saw and fought the Voldere, her new creatures. I know what they’re capable of. I know how to stop them. But, if she unleashes them on our troops, we’re doomed. And I don’t even know how many there are.”