KGWrites

Alyx

Frothing Flotsam Tavern Boathouse, Fallham, Barony of Fallham

Across the still waters of the Fallham lake, a gentle breeze blew, causing ripples in the water that made the reflected moon and stars warp and wave on the water’s dark surface.

Rising from the water on its various piers and bridges, Fallham city rested silently, lit by lanterns and candles hung outside homes, around which the yellow lights of fireflies buzzed gently. Restful sleep in the warm spring night hung over the city, leaving no indication of the bloody chaos that had just descended over the tall palace tower that stood reaching to the sky on the island at the city centre.

On the far side of the city, the Frothing Flotsam Tavern was dark and quiet, its patrons long since departed for home or had found their rest in the beds they’d rented on its upper levels.

Below the tavern, the lake gently lapping against its stone supports, lay the boathouse, where fishermen who had finished their day’s work had tied up their boats for shelter. It was an empty space, only inhabited by nesting gulls and rats searching for scraps.

Both of which quickly scattered as the door to the building opened and two figures stumbled in, one supporting the other.

Alyx grunted and strained beneath Meghan’s weight as she limped into the boathouse, kicking the door closed with her heel. Her wounds burned and she was coated in her own blood. Slowly, she half carried, half dragged Meghan to the wall of the boathouse and lowered her to sit against it.

Meghan collapsed backwards, sliding down the wall to sit on the flagstone floor, her chin slumped to her chest and she took long, deep breaths. Her eyes were half-lidded and unfocussed. She’d barely been able to swim to shore after catching herself and Alyx in her magic before they’d crashed into the water in the canal. Alyx had practically needed to carry her through the dark streets as they’d made their escape.

Thankfully, it appeared city guards were either protecting the walls or recalled to the palace to deal with the incursion of the monsters, which had made getting here undetected much simpler. Meghan was exhausted and Alyx felt more dead than alive, fending off a group of guards might just have pushed them both over the edge at this point.

Leaving Meghan to rest, Alyx stood and walked over to a sheet covered rowboat that rested at the top of one of the wooden boat ramps leading down into the water. She didn’t have the strength in her aching muscles to push the boat down without help, but that wasn’t what she needed right now anyway.

Using her sword, Alyx sliced away the sheet covering the boat, noting that the oars were safely stored inside. Then she began tearing the sheet into smaller strips that she carried to the edge of the lapping water.

Leaning down over the edge of the water, Alyx examined what little of her reflection she could make out in the pale moonlight and checked over the injuries she could see. She knew there was some sort of stab wound from the spear in her right shoulder, but she couldn’t turn her head to see it. Judging by how well she could still move the arm with only a little pain though, it couldn’t be very deep. Her left arm had a cut across it beneath the pauldron. The armour had taken most of it, but it still hurt like hell. Her left leg had a thin cut on her thigh that bled a lot but wasn’t very deep. She soaked one of the rags, dabbed it on the wound and then tied it off tightly higher up the leg with a grunt of pain. It would stem the bleeding for the time being, until she could get back to their supplies on the cart and treat it properly. She tied another across her arm.

Her face in the moonlight surprised her. A small cut from the throwing spears had stopped bleeding, and her swim in the canals had washed away much of the blood. Besides that, her wet hair stuck to her face at odd angles and her teeth were stained slightly by the blood she’d spat up from being thrown around by Zaygor. Overall though, if someone was just looking at her face, Alyx looked to have gotten through remarkably unscathed.

Apart from her eyes.

The whites of her eyes were almost completely covered by spiderwebbing red. In a couple of patches it had even bloomed into bright red splotches where the blood vessels had burst as she’d strained for breath against Zaygor’s magic strangling her.

She looked like some sort of demonic reflection of herself, staring back out the water.

At least I can see myself.

In fact, despite the horrific look to her eyes, Alyx’s eyesight seemed miraculously unaffected by the change, apart from a dull, gritty itching. Dipping another rag in the lake, Alyx pressed it to one eye, then the other, before she squeezed the water out over her forehead, letting it run down and wash her eyes. The cold brought instant relief from the dryness and Alyx sighed in satisfaction.

Her lungs in her chest still ached, like an overstretched muscle, and her breathing held a slight audible rattling sound to it. But she was breathing, that was enough.

Satisfied that she wasn’t on the edge of death, Alyx leaned down and soaked another few rags. Then she rose to her feet once more, ignoring the protests from her injured leg, and crossed to Meghan before sitting again.

With one hand, she gently reached out and dabbed the cool rag around Meghan’s cheeks, cleaning off the sweat. Her other hand carefully laid a second rag across Meghan’s forehead. Meghan gave a soft moan of relief as the cold water instantly relaxed her further. Her brown eyes widened and she looked up to Alyx and gave her a soft, exhausted smile.

“Thank you.” She breathed softly. Alyx smiled, still gently working the rag around Meghan’s face.

“Anytime. I get the sense that I’m only breathing right now because of you.” She responded.

“I just got Zaygor off you. You fought your way back to the land of the living all on your own.” Meghan corrected her. Alyx scoffed. She didn’t find herself fully believing Meghan about that. After all, it was climbing the white tree of Meghan’s magic that had allowed Alyx to rise from the Gravekeeper’s clutches in that strange void she’d nearly lost herself to. But arguing about who saved her and how wasn’t necessary. She was alive, that was what mattered.

“Just got Zaygor off me.” Alyx repeated, laughing at the simplicity with which Meghan said it. Like she’d chased away an annoying bee. “As if that alone didn’t need you to pull some of the most insane power I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Meghan looked away from Alyx, though Alyx saw it wasn’t fully out of embarrassment. A proud smile tweaked at the corners of Meghan’s lips.

“Seriously, where the hell did that come from? I’ve seen you do some mad magic shit before, but nothing like that, and certainly not for as long as you just did.” Alyx urged her, coming around to sit next to her against the cold wooden wall.

“I’ve kept that locked away for a very long time.” Meghan started after a moment’s hesitation. “My time in Aldiron had me keep my magic hidden. It’s been so long I’d almost forgotten how to tap into everything I could do. Like not using muscles for a very long time, I forgot the techniques.”

Alyx understood. There was a reason Marius had made her drill with her sword and axes every single day. It seemed Meghan’s magical abilities were similar.

“What snapped you out of it? Why now?” She asked after a few seconds had passed. Weakly, Meghan reached out and took Alyx’s hand in hers and squeezed it.

“He hurt my people.” Was Meghan’s only response. Alyx didn’t need any further explanation than that. She understood perfectly. When Meghan had been in danger, none of her injuries had mattered. Instinct had taken over and Alyx had simply acted, jumping in to fend off the guards with all the effort she could muster.

She didn’t reply to Meghan. She simply squeezed her hand tight and leaned in to kiss her cheek. Meghan gave her a soft smile through half-lidded eyes. Alyx sat back, leaning her head back to stare at the ceiling, both of them simply breathing and sitting hand in hand with one another.

A couple of minutes later, Alyx spoke again.

“Good plan by the way, jumping out the window.” She said and Meghan scoffed.

“Nearly as good as distracting him with an axe to smash the crystal. That was quick thinking.” She replied. Alyx blushed at the complement and shook her head.

“Honestly I just wanted to put an axe in his head.” It wasn’t a lie exactly, if Zaygor hadn’t caught the axe, Alyx wouldn’t have minded. But him throwing it back had worked out in the long run, so she couldn’t complain.

Meghan laughed weakly next to her. “Well maybe the monsters did it for you.” She suggested.

Alyx thought back to the throne room, to Zaygor turning to face the swarming black furred beasts, his indigo tattoos glowing brightly. Somehow, she doubted Meghan’s wish would come true.

“What the fuck were those things?” Alyx asked, shuddering as she recalled how quickly and gruesomely the suddenly appearing monsters had torn into Zaygor’s guards.

“Dwarves, I think. Or at least, they were.” Meghan answered, also giving an uncomfortable shiver.

“James told me the Dwarves were all dead.” Alyx said, furrowing her brow into a frown of confusion.

“As they were in the histories we’ve read, I’d say James is right.” Meghan said. “But Zaygor said that Draconeus caused them to change into something else. Something new. Something that wiped out their kingdom and caused the Evellien to flee from here. And I think we just met those new things.”

Alyx hummed and leaned back against the wall. The mental image of one of the Dwarf creatures lifting a Fallham soldier’s decapitated head, the eyes still rolling in the sockets, refused to leave her mind. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and focussed on banishing it.

Meghan took a deep, hitching breath next to her. Alyx felt the muscles of Meghan’s hand tense around hers and she opened her eyes to look to her friend.

Meghan was staring at the door, her lower jaw clenched tight and her eyes wide with a worried expression.

“They came up from below, from Birn Tharum. Through the vaults.” She breathed, fear creeping into the edge of her voice.

Alyx shook her head firmly. “Don’t. Iona and James are going to be fine. They’re smart, they’ll have gotten out before they had any trouble. James always gets out. It’s what he does.”

Meghan looked at her silently. Alyx felt some small part of her mind asking the question clear on Meghan’s face.

If they got out before things got bad, why aren’t they here yet?

Alyx sighed, unable to push the question away. Groaning, she pushed herself to her feet. Her aching muscles screamed as she dragged them from their rest. But she ignored it.

“I’ll find the nearest entry to the sewers. I’ll go get them.” She announced, checking her sword and two remaining throwing axes were secure on her belt.

“I’ll come with you.” Meghan told her, weakly beginning to push herself up the wall. Alyx stepped forwards, placed her hand on Meghan’s shoulder and firmly shoved the sorceress back down to the ground.

“Like hell you will. You can barely stand up right now. Stay here. Keep the boat safe. Rest. I’ll bring them back, I promise.” Alyx commanded. Meghan didn’t argue, though Alyx could see she wanted to. And that frustration with not being able to help was clearly written across her as she folded her arms over her chest.

Ignoring her annoyance, covering it with the satisfaction of knowing Meghan would be safe, Alyx began stretching her tired muscles, warming them up again. Then she paused and glanced at Meghan, scratching the back of her head with embarrassment.

“Meghan?” She began sheepishly. Meghan turned her head to look at her, eyes curious.

“What Zaygor said, before he strangled me? About me and Iona? Can you just… forget he said it?” Alyx asked. Meghan pulled herself up the wall again and crossed to Alyx, who held still as she approached, unsure.

“Don’t recall him saying anything, must have missed it.” Meghan said as she reached her. She reached out her hand to take Alyx’s into it and gave it a soft squeeze. “Nothing to remember.”

Alyx squeezed her hand back. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, smiling. “You’re wonderful.” Meghan reached up a hand to cup Alyx’s cheek.

“Be happy Alyx.” She told her gently, before a devilish grin spread over her face. “And as for wonderful, I believe James has told me something similar, once or twice.”

“I take it back, I hate you.” Alyx joked, faking an over-the-top gagging sound that made Meghan laugh deviously. Then she pulled away from Meghan and turned towards the door, ready to leave.

Right as it burst open and two more figures collapsed through it, panting like they’d just finished a running race.

James remained standing, though only barely. He leaned awkwardly against the wall near the door. A pack filled to bursting was on his back, his quiver was nearly empty of arrows and their mother’s longsword was clutched in his three-fingered hand so tightly the skin over his knuckles was nearly bone white. But he bore no visible injuries as far as Alyx could see.

Iona was in much worse condition. She collapsed heavily against a wooden crate, leaving a bloody smear on the wood as she did so. One hand was clutching the ragged, shattered remains of a sword, broken a short way above the hilt. The other hand was pressed into her gut, where a blood soaked shard of sheared metal from the broken sword was sticking out from her flesh. Gripped tightly in that hand though, was a shining golden crossguard of a sword. She was coated head to toe in thick, sticking black stains that Alyx didn’t even want to guess the origin of.

Wordlessly, Alyx rushed forwards to James, wrapping her arms around her brother in a tight hug and pressing her forehead to his. He let out a long sigh of relief as he held her close. Then he looked up, past Alyx and over to Meghan. He quickly exchanged a look with Alyx and she smiled and nodded.

Confident his sister wasn’t about to get jealous or angry, James moved away from her and limped over to wrap Meghan in an equally tight hug. He quickly lowered his head to kiss her as she reached up to curl her fingertips through his hair.

Alyx smiled at them for a second before Meghan’s teasing jokes crept back into her mind and she had to turn away, warmth spreading across her cheeks. Instead, she crossed the space to Iona, lifting the Princess’ hand carefully away from her wounded side to examine it.

That’s in deep, and it’ll bleed a lot when it gets taken out. Best to leave it in for now.

She looked back up at Iona and smiled.

“One night without me and you stab yourself on your own sword. Nice work.” She teased. Iona laughed, though the movement caused her to suck air across her teeth in a grimace of pain.

“Because you look like you got on so well yourself.” She retorted.

“Fair enough.” Alyx chuckled as she dabbed at the wound in Iona’s side with a wet rag, cleaning away some of the blood.

“Dwarves might not be as dead as we thought.” Iona said by way of explanation. Alyx nodded, the memory of the monsters in the throne room coming back as vividly as ever.

“We got the pleasure yeah.” She told her. Iona looked her up and down, as if just noticing the numerous wounds covering her.

“Did they get to you?” She asked, laying down the sword hilt so she could raise her hand to run her thumb beneath Alyx’s eye. It took every ounce of Alyx’s self-control not to lean into her touch. But she shook her head in answer instead.

“No. We only saw them as we fled. This was our old friend the Baron.” She explained. Iona’s green eyes narrowed and her jaw squared, enraged.

“We saw his handiwork, how he enhanced his magic. It… Be glad you didn’t.” Iona told her. Something in her tone told Alyx that there was no exaggeration in her words.

“Is he dead?” James asked from where he stood with Meghan.

“Not by our hand.” Alyx answered. “But he has found himself with a little Dwarf infestation to deal with. If we’re lucky, that’ll keep him from following us. If we’re really lucky, the Dwarves take care of him for us.”

She nodded to Meghan. “Will say though James, I would be dead if not for your girlfriend here. She saved my life and fought him off long enough for us to escape.”

James turned to Meghan. “Is that true?” He asked. Meghan looked at Alyx with a soft smile, then back to him.

“We saved each other.” She began, before going on to begin explaining how Alyx had pulled her from the water. But before she could get more than a few words in, James grabbed her face and pulled her into another long, deep kiss.

Alyx chuckled and turned away from them again, nodding to the golden crossguard in Iona’s hand.

“We get what we came for then?” She asked and Iona lifted the golden hilt. It was stained red with the blood on her hand but there was no mistaking the design on it. A twisting elegant curl to the ends of the hand guards that bore the same carved pattern of Evellien design as the rest of the hilt.

It certainly looked the part of the Brightblade’s crossguard. But Alyx had been caught by what looked right before.

“How can we be sure it’s the right piece?” She asked. Iona closed her fist with a scowl before raising her head to James, looking at him for the answer.

“It was behind the magical barrier. I doubt Zaygor was taking that down just to set up an elaborate hoax with the Dwarves waiting for him down there.” James said, but Alyx could see she’d put the same doubt in his eyes too. He looked uncertainly at the blade.

“Still though, we should see how it fits to the piece we have. Just in case.” He suggested.

Iona nodded and reached her other hand to her neckline, lifting the necklace bearing the long handle of the Brightblade that she’d received from her father outwards and holding it out towards the crossguard.

As she began to examine the two pieces to see where they fit together, they began to shake violently in her hands. The sapphire at the pommel of the hilt sent gleaming beams of brilliant blue light bouncing around the room as a glow within it grew brighter and began to spin rapidly.

Suddenly, the crossguard tore itself from Iona’s grasp and shot forwards to meet the handle. A blazing orange glow formed at the point they met, and Alyx watched as the metal rapidly heated, fused and cooled, sealing the two pieces together into the full hilt unit of a sword.

Like her own sword, the handle was long enough to be used with either one hand or two. The ornate Evellien patterning was twisted into a dark, thinner layer around the hand grips, allowing a more comfortable grip when someone was holding the weapon. The sapphire still flickered and flashed with an internal light, but it slowed at the glowing and shaking came to an end, leaving Iona holding the full hilt of the Brightblade.

After a moment of awed wonder, Iona broke the silence.

“Yes. I’d say it’s the right piece.” She grinned, lifting the sword to examine it closer.

“Just the blade to go then.” Meghan observed, her voice somewhat hushed in awe of what she’d just witnessed.

“Any ideas where to look?” Alyx asked, aware that Meghan had spent the journey from Blueholdt reading through the tomes she and James had found while she’d recovered from her encounter with The Other Face.

Meghan hummed an affirmative, nodding once. “Ya’ula. The last bastion of the Evellien and their ancient capitol. If anywhere would be a “Throne” I’d say that qualifies. And it was the last place they lived after they abandoned here at Aethril.”

Alyx drew upon a mental picture of the maps they’d been using to navigate, but Ya’ula didn’t spark any recognition from her.

Before she could ask where Ya’ula was however, the sound of rushing heavy footfalls became apparent to the group. Alyx sighed deeply in frustration, glaring at the Brightblade.

“I know it’s in your fucking name.” She muttered softly towards the sword’s hilt. “But did you really have to bloody glow?”

As one, the group backed up from the door. Alyx drew her sword, though her tired muscles protested heavily. Behind her, Iona tucked the Brightblade hilt, still tied to her necklace, back beneath her armour. James silently handed off his sword to Iona, who tested the weight and spun it in her hand, adjusting her grip to the new weapon. Then James drew his bow and nocked an arrow. Meghan’s tattoos began to build a steady glow, but she swayed on her feet and Alyx worried for a second that she might collapse. Shaking her head, Meghan released the magic and drew her sword instead.

A second later, the door to the boathouse burst open and soldiers of Fallham began rushing in like a dam had burst.

The first to enter the doorway dropped instantly, one of James’ blue feathered arrows in his throat. But another quickly replaced him. Then another, and another.

In total, six of Zaygor’s soldiers piled into the room, weapons drawn. They formed a wide ring opposite the group, trapping them between the soldiers and the open water of the lake. Alyx braced herself, raising her sword.

But the soldiers stopped, remaining a few steps back, their swords held ready. The soldier that had been the last to enter the room, evidently some form of commander, stepped forwards.

“You have stolen property from the Baron and released monsters into his home.” He announced. James scoffed.

“Yeah, we’re aware.” He retorted. The soldier shot him a disdainful glance before continuing, looking to Iona.

“The Baron is a merciful, forgiving man.” He began. Alyx nearly laughed in his face. “He offers that if you return his property to him, then your executions will be swift and painless. A great deal more consideration than you gave to himself and the many lives your actions have cost us today.”

Alyx glowered. It had been too much to hope that the Dwarves had killed Zaygor, she knew, but she had hoped he would be more delayed than this. Iona looked the officer up and down, then looked to his men behind him, one eyebrow cocked in a bemused expression.

“Counteroffer.” She stated. “If he wants his treasure back so badly fine. He may have the pack taken from his vaults, along with my apologies for the pains my actions have caused him. But myself and my companions will be leaving.”

She looked pointedly at James, who stared stubbornly back at her for a moment. Alyx looked at him and reached out her arm, giving him a soft nudge that pulled his attention to her. She gave a tiny nod.

We got the real treasure we were here for, and it’s not in that bag. Let’s just go.

James hesitated, his jaw shifting. But the understanding was clear in his eyes and eventually he relented. He gave a heavy sigh and unslung his pack, tossing it with one hand to land at the feet of the nearest guard.

The officer that had spoken watched silently, regarding the pack as it landed with a deadpan expression before he turned back to Iona.

“You misunderstand Princess. The Baron cares little for the trinkets stolen from his vaults. The precious property he objects to the theft of and wants returned, is you.” He explained with a thin-lipped smile.

Alyx tightened the grip on her sword angrily. Meghan’s magical glow subtly began building once more and James drew back another arrow. The guards in front of them all lowered into combat ready stances, their weapons raised.

Iona though, simply looked across her companions, found them ready to fight and turned back to the officer. She rolled her eyes like she was bored.

“He really needs to get better at flirting with me. You can tell him I’m bored of him and I’m taking my leave.” She said, flourishing James’ sword. “Provided we let you live to deliver the message.”

Alyx took a deep breath. Under normal circumstances, she’d have thought the fight before them simple by their recent standards. Tonight though?

Iona could only fight one handed, her other hand was pressed to the metal stabbed into her side, a wound that would slow her and leave her weaker on that side.

Meghan was beyond exhausted, and Alyx was sure that even the slightest exertion of magic would cause her to struggle to remain standing, let alone fighting.

James was the most able bodied amongst them, yet even he was moving sluggishly due to whatever unseen injury he’d been dealt to his leg. Not to mention the fact he only had his bow, which left him almost defenceless if the enemy got in close contact.

And Alyx herself was wounded on her leg, arm and shoulder. Every muscle screamed from fatigue, every movement of her limbs was like slowly lifting a leaden weight. In the time that she’d stopped since escaping the palace, the adrenaline that had been keeping her sharp had faded and now the world was a distant and dull place.

At best, this fight would be painful and hard and would likely end with one of them hurt or worse. At worst… Alyx didn’t want to think about what it would be like at worst.

“I’m afraid the Baron won’t accept such an offer Princess.” The officer replied, a cold satisfied edge to his voice. He turned his head to speak to his men.

Whatever he orders he was going to give though was lost beneath another sound.

A shrill cry echoed across the lake. One that, for a split second, made Alyx wonder if somehow Zephyr, Iona’s hunting falcon from Aldiron had found them. But the cry was subtly different. It cracked and crunched and crackled like logs breaking on a fire.

In the boathouse, no-one moved except to turn and look out across the lake.

Alyx spotted a light that at first, she thought may have been one of the buzzing fireflies. But then it grew larger, and brighter. Darting like lightning, the glow shot towards them, skimming the surface as it came and leaving a trail of steam and leaping, hissing water in its wake. As it got closer, Alyx saw the light flicker and dance like fire. It let out another shrieking call as it reached the edge of the boathouse.

Suddenly, Alyx felt Iona’s hand grip her arm and she was yanked downwards to the ground as the flaming ball shot above them. The heat was intense, like a blazing hearth had just rushed overhead.

She looked up in time to see it collide with the guard officer’s face. And as he began to scream, Alyx was finally able to see what was within the glow.

A bird, around the same size as Zephyr, but with feathers of glowing fire on its wings. Long tail feathers tipped with flame hung down from its back as it dug sharp orange talons into the eyes of the officer and its sharp beak pecked and tore at his face.

The man screamed in agony, thrashing around as the bird latched itself to him. Where its razor talons dug in, Alyx could see the man’s flesh bubbling and burning as if he was beneath an intense heat.

Then the bird let go, letting the man tumble to the ground, blinded and agonised with smoke rising from his ruined face. The bird called out once more and then gave a single, powerful flap of its wings.

The fire flashed forwards from the creature in a shower of blazing feathers like hot embers. The remaining guards screamed as they were hit with a wave of heat and the feathers burned at them, leaving them stunned and temporarily blinded. The bird darkened to a dull smoky black, leaving only the long tail feathers and the crest atop its head glowing with fire.

Finally, the bird swooped downwards once more. Pouncing, talons extended, onto the guard captain as he howled in pain.

Alyx didn’t have time to watch what the bird did next however, not that she had the desire to anyway, as Iona leapt forwards with a fierce cry.

The Princess dashed into the fray, leaping over the officer and landing amongst his dazed troops. With a quick swing of her blade, she cut down one of them before moving to another.

Following her lead, James loosed an arrow that ended the suffering of the guard he’d thrown the bag to. Meghan took two quick steps forwards and cut across the neck of the guard nearest her.

Alyx too, jumped forward and joined the fray and only a few seconds later, the guards that had cornered them lay dead or dying on the ground.

Breathing hard, Alyx sheathed her sword and turned to look at their saviour.

The firebird stood atop its victim, who had now mercifully stilled beneath the agony of the bird’s attack, and was now contentedly feeding on the well-cooked meal it had made for itself. Alyx looked from it to the others.

“Alright, what in the fucking hell is going on?” She demanded, pointing to the bird. It looked up to her and tilted its head to the side. It gave a rumbling cooing sound that reminded Alyx of the sizzle of a hot cooking fire.

“He’s a phoenix.” Iona explained, looking at the little bird in wonder. “He was being held in Zaygor’s vaults. I let him out.” She crouched down next to the bird, which repeated the same sizzle sound at her.

“Apparently he decided to return the favour.” She concluded, beaming at the creature.

“Yeah. Great. Wonderful.” James deadpanned as he retrieved his arrows and slung the pack into the rowboat at the top of the ramp. “But this place now stinks of burning flesh and that was nice and loud, so maybe we should get going yeah?”

Alyx hadn’t noticed the smell until James drew attention to it, but as soon as he did, she gagged and nodded. Holding one hand over her mouth and nose, she hurried over to James and placed her shoulder against the boat. Together, straining with effort, the Cobalts pushed the boat into the lake.

James then helped Meghan and Iona down into it while Alyx untied the mooring ropes holding it in place. Finally, she clambered down into the boat, settling herself next to Iona while Meghan curled up at the front behind James, who sat down and took the oars. Slowly, with steady strokes, James pulled at the oars and the little rowboat carried them away into the dark stillness of the lake.

A while later, once they were safely clear of the city walls and they had all allowed themselves to relax somewhat, that same shrill cry came again.

Iona, who had been leaning her head on her hand with her elbow on the side of the boat, sat up immediately and turned her head to the sky. Alyx followed her gaze and sure enough, swooping down against the black was a tiny speck of fire, trailing orange tails behind it.

It swooped in low and, in a landing that harkened back to how Alyx had once seen Iona training Zephyr, pulled itself to a stop with a few powerful wing flaps. It settled itself on the edge of the boat, talons gripping the wood with a soft hissing sound. Tiny trails of white smoke rose beneath its feet where they met the wood.

The phoenix was still ashen black, the blast of flame it had released had clearly been the extent of its ability. Alyx supposed it was like Meghan using all her magic, glancing towards where the sorceress was groggily watching them, having been roused from sleep by the bird’s arrival.

It looked up at Iona with eyes of deep copper orange, turning its head back and forth to examine her with each eye. Then it let out another little cooing sound and lowered its head.

“Hello.” Iona greeted it, a wide smile on her face. Seeing the joy the phoenix was bringing Iona brought a matching grin to Alyx’s face. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught James watching her with a soft smile. His eyes darted from Alyx to Iona and back and he cocked an eyebrow at Alyx. She quickly stuck her tongue out at him and turned back to Iona and the phoenix.

Cautiously, Iona extended her hand towards the bird, fingers curled inwards to touch it with a knuckle. Alyx had to resist the urge to pull her back. Iona’s hand brushed against the fiery feathered plumage on its head and the phoenix quickly lifted its head to nuzzle into Iona’s palm.

At first, she gasped, and Alyx worried she’d burned herself. But then Iona let out a soft giggle and extended her fingers to scratch affectionately at the back of the bird’s head. It let out its sizzling sound again, which Alyx suddenly realised was almost like it was purring, if it were a cat.

“Isn’t it hot?” She asked Iona, her mind dominated by the warped, burned flesh of the guard commander’s face after the phoenix’s attack. Iona shook her head.

“He is. But no more than holding a warm bowl of broth in your hands. I think he can control when he wants to get very hot like earlier.” She explained, continuing to pet the bird. Then she turned to face the others.

“I think he’ll be coming with us. At least, he’ll be following me for now.” She told them and James rolled his eyes with an amused smile and shake of his head.

“A pack full of treasures, a piece of the Brightblade and now a mythical pet that can cook our enemies. Overall, I’d call Fallham a success.” He joked. The others laughed in agreement as Iona turned back to the phoenix.

“But if you’re coming with me. You’re going to need a name.” She told it pensively. It purred again and, as Iona began pondering on names, Alyx settled back in the boat and stared at the sky as James rowed them away from the nightmare of Fallham and Zaygor, and into the night.