Phoenix
Chapter Four

“The mountains,” Eremil said unenthusiastically, looking up at the blue-white peaks ahead. “I should have known. What better place to go in the winter than the Sawtooths? It will be nice and frozen up there.”

“Sh,” I said. “Lexia requires no distractions.” I entertained myself while we waited by flipping a flame the size of my pinky finger from hand to hand. Eremil tried to appear unimpressed, sawing at Cinder’s reins when she flipping her head, but I saw the way he watched the flame dance. Magic could not be easily ignored, even by one who saw it as often as Eremil.

“The Darkness moves to the mountains,” Lexia said, turning Princess toward them. There was a thin deer trail leading through the sear grass and banks of crusty, grey snow.

“Good call,” I told Eremil, heeling Might to follow Princess. He looked at me as though I had said something strange before he spurred Cinder forward.

We followed the trail into the Sawtooth Mountains. Climbing sharply amongst barren rock faces and blue-needled forest. Our breath danced away in puffs of white, carried along with the steam that rose from the horses. It was a high and lonely place. The stillness of it hastened my heart. How could it be so silent, so empty? It was as though we were caught in the moment between breaths, when the breather is neither inhaling, nor exhaling, only waiting.

The world was waiting.

“Do you think the Darkness knows a pass?” Eremil asked, eyeing the sun sinking into the west as the trail led north. The snow was deep here, the horses laboring in drifts that touched their bellies. “I am unfamiliar with this area of the Sawtooths.”

A chill ran through me, but I did not speak. The Darkness could be leading us into an impassible route, a trap. The Darkness could have soldiers waiting for us. They might even wear the faces of our friends. We could rely on none save ourselves, and even our reliability was uncertain.

Where do you go when you close your eyes? Lexia’s voice said in my head. I turned to look at her, the vestige of memory surfacing. At that moment, it seemed as though I recalled an entirely different life, an entirely different world. I looked down at my hands as we rode, studying the scars, feeling heat riding between my fingers.

I hate fire. The thought was foreign and familiar in equal measures. Fire was my life and had cost me my life.

What was happening to me? Fear shimmied through me in bursts.

“Do not be afraid,” Lexia said quietly over her shoulder. Might walked with his nose in Princess’s tail and I had to dodge encroaching tree limbs. The trail grew narrower and steeper, but the snow had drifted away from it leaving it bare.

“Where is it taking us?” I asked. A breeze heavy with moisture and cold rustled the naked branches of aspen and the trail opened to a snow-covered meadow surrounded by tall pines.

“We will camp here,” Lexia declared.

I could not shake the feeling that this austere white meadow was less desolate than it appeared. Unperturbed, Eremil wasted no time. He took Cinder in a circuit around the clearing to look for any sign of danger.

Pete, I thought, watching Eremil, why aren’t you wrestling?

“Phoenix,” Lexia said. I jumped when she placed a hand on my arm, just below my elbow. I turned to her and smiled. She did not smile back. “The Darkness wants you,” she warned. “She will take you if you let her.”

“She has always wanted me,” I said. “Since the day she awakened my power. I will not go with her.” Lexia frowned and shook her platinum head. Eremil signaled to us that the clearing was safe enough and I swung down from Might.

“It is a process,” Lexia warned, “the path from defiance to acceptance. It is not a single event. And it will not happen until you wish it.”

“Then it shall never happen,” I said. I did not look at her as I worked the saddle’s girth loose. I thought I understood what she was telling me, but I did not want it to be true. How could it be that I, the Prince of Eloria, Phoenix the Scarred, would wish to believe the Darkness’s lies? How could I, who stood to fight whatever foe the Darkness conjured, fall to her deceit?

“You will replace yourself accepting more and more of the Darkness’s lies,” Lexia said, caring for her own horse. “You will replace that you cannot tell the difference between reality and fantasy. You will begin to believe it.”

“What can I do?” I demanded yanking the saddle from Might’s back. I dumped it unceremoniously onto the snow and Might shied away. Lexia did not answer. I looked back to her, feeling my jaw grow tight, my lips narrow. “Lexia,” I said, looking over the horse’s back at her, “you cannot predict something as dire as my fall to the Darkness and then tell me nothing else. You are the Mindwalker. You must tell me how to fight this thing.”

She shook her head and stared at me with wide silver eyes. “When all is lost, when all hope is gone, you must believe.”

“Well,” I said, “That is twisty and cryptic.” I set Might’s hobbles and removed his bridle.

“I have told you what you must do,” she said quietly, “as simply as I can.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “And it is a riddle.”

“Are you two fighting?” Eremil said, dismounting between us. Neither of us answered him. He stripped Cinder and set her hobbles before working on Princess. I went into the trees to gather firewood.

What am I to do with that? I wondered, thinking of Lexia’s words. My fall seemed inevitable. I ventured into the trees. I stooped to pick up a piece of dried wood, adding it to the collection of twigs in my arm. But I cannot fall. I cannot afford to fall. Eloria needs me. Light itself needs me.

Between the trees, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a tall girl with strawberry hair. She smiled at me, and her green eyes twinkled. I knew her and I did not know her.

It was Jewel.

I cursed as the wood that had been tucked in my arm fell on my feet.

“You are not real,” I said as I bent to gather the wood. I would not believe the Darkness’s lies. I would not.

When I stood again, the girl was gone. I let the air out of my lungs in relief. I carried the wood back to the clearing and found that Eremil and Lexia had made a circle of rocks and positioned the saddles and blankets near it. They were laughing together as they pulled supplies from the panniers.

I placed some wood in the ring and summoned the fire. I let flames overtake the wood, sparks flying up into the darkness. Strength flowed into me as the wood was consumed.

Lexia handed me a plate laden with cheese and carrots and a bowl of beans. My eyes met hers and she smiled.

Why won’t the dead leave me alone?

Sadness washed through me and I reached to take Lexia’s hand in mine, squeezing her delicate fingers.

“Do not despair,” she whispered.

I ate, but the food tasted grey. I lay down and tried to make myself sleep. The fire burned comfortingly, little flickers of embers rising into the night with the smoke. I watched the flames, losing myself in their chaotic beauty and thought of Sominette.

Could she really be trying to deceive me? Had she never loved me? I watched the flames licking toward the sky.

Momma held my hand, not seeming to notice the roughness of the scars there. Lexia held her other hand and we hurried through the city. Momma wore a cloak, concealing her face in the twilit shadows. We stopped before a familiar door and mother raised her fist to knock, but the door came open before her knuckles could strike.

“Sominette,” Lucius said, greeting us all with wide, surprised eyes. “You brought the children?”

“Loyal friend,” Momma said, leading us into Lucius’s house. “There is little time. Elandril will notice our absence.”

“Then speak, my Queen,” Lucius said.

Lexia tugged at mother’s hand, wanting release. Momma held on absently, and Lexia started to whine.

“I want to play,” Lexia insisted. “Let me go. Where is Gemma?” Mother released her and Lexia ran away.

I would stay with Momma. She needed me to help her save the world. I had magic now.

“Lucius,” Momma said. “We must go to the Scepters together, the four of us.”

“They are children, my Queen,” Lucius protested, turning his back on us. “They cannot possibly—“

“Lexia is a Mindwalker,” Momma said, proudly lifting her chin. She was proud of me too now that I had magic. “Lexia knows the minds and hearts of all she meets. She and I bear the same magic. We can convince the Scepters to receive us. All of us. And Phoenix…” She looked down at me and smiled. I smiled back. She lifted my hand in hers and showed the scars to Lucius. He dropped to his knee and took my hand with gentle fingers.

“Flame-scarred,” Lucius said, recoiling. “Spell-scarred. Sominette, what happened?” Momma dropped my hand, tilting her chin up to meeting Lucius’s eyes unabashedly. Lucius gasped, his face going white.

“He had magic, Lucius,” she said. Her voice sounded angry. “I awakened it in defense of his life and the force which would have destroyed him bonded with his soul. He’s a pyromancer now, stronger than any of us, for he can both create and destroy. I did with him just as we must do with the Scepters. We must take them to the brink of destruction and they will accept us.”

“It cannot be done,” Lucius insisted. “I have been to the Scepter Room and felt nothing. They are as dead to me as they are to everyone else. We are not they who will bring to pass the Golden Dawn. Magic is lost to the elves.”

“We are the last with magic, the last who can bring it to pass,” Mother said. “We have to try. Together. We have to do it.”

“We cannot,” Lucius refused. “We do know what will happen if four magic bearers approach the Scepters together. A convergence might destroy us all.”

“You are worried about what might happen?” Mother demanded. “How can you be worried about what might happen, when we know what will happen if we fail to try? Eloria will diminish to nothing, just as all the other kingdoms have. Our people will fall into the darkness that has consumed the rest of the elves. We have only lasted this long because we hold the Scepters. If we do not act, all of the elves will disappear.”

Lucius paced the floor, folding and unfolding his arms. Momma watched him silently. I wished I had gone to play with the girls.

“You are right, Sominette,” Lucius said. “Something must be done to save the elves. But you do not feel it? There is wrongness in this plan. “

“Then suggest a better one, my friend,” Momma said. “I only want to save Eloria.”

Lucius paced a few more steps, abruptly changing direction. I think that they were fighting, but I did not really understand what about. “I can see that we must try,” Lucius finally said, stopping in front of Momma.

“Lexia!” Mother called, tightening her grip on my hand. It was still tender, though the scar was completely healed. “We must go. Now.” Lexia came skittering around the corner into the parlor as though she had been running. Behind her, Gemma peeked out around the corner, strands of her strawberry hair and green eyes the only parts of her I could see.

All I ever was to her was a tool to be used, I thought. The words flayed me like a knife.

“Phoenix,” Mom said, shaking my shoulder. “Wake up.” I sat up with a start. Early morning basketball was really wearing on me. We were in the school’s parking lot and I jumped out of the car.

“I didn’t ask about your session,” Mom said. “Was it okay? Everything worked out?”

Sure, I thought. It was great. The doctor tried to tell me that Lexia is real.

I nodded and shut the door.

I pulled the collar of my old Northface up and walked into the school. I checked in at the office and carried a note with me to my next class.

The art class was scattered. Students talked quietly over their projects. The radio played in the background. I handed the note to Mr. Cortez.

“Phoenix, good to see you,” Mr. Cortez said, taking the note. “We’re just working on our perspective drawings.”

“Okay,” I said. I went to my cubby and pulled out my folder. My drawing was nearly complete: a city stretching into the distance, a city in the stars with orcas flying through the sky. I pulled up a chair by Jake. His eyes were starting to bruise.

“Sorry about this morning,” I told him. He shrugged.

“It happens,” he said. He leaned over his work, his tongue coming out of his mouth a little bit as he smeared the pencil shading with his thumb. His fingers were black. His drawing looked like a scene from a Lord of the Rings movie: an ethereal city built into the side of a mountain above a lake.

“That’s really good,” I said, leaning over to look at it more closely. He turned his head to look at me and his eyes gleamed the same silver color that Lexia’s had been.

“None of this is real,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“Get out of my light,” he said. He turned back to his work.

“Oh,” I said, moving back. “Sorry.”

I worked on my own drawing until the bell rang, shading the orcas as they flew across the sky. I dreamed about orcas sometimes, living in the Columbia.

“Are you going to pick me up tomorrow?” I asked Jake. He was carefully putting his drawing away in his folder and tucking it into his cubby.

“That depends,” he said, looking over his shoulder at me. “Are you going to punch me in the face again?”

I punched him in the shoulder. He smiled.

“See ya tomorrow, bro,” Jake said.