CHAPTER
UNDERWORLDS
DAYIEL
The barren landscape spread in all directions — only gray and beige sand and volcanoes as far as Dayiel could see from his vantage point on the tallest cone. Except for the gates. They had been constructed from a darker rock, and were the reason people avoided living in the area. Huge structures whose purpose only became obvious when seen from high above and their otherwise random placement revealed their entirety. The gates had been built to keep two worlds separate, but Dayiel could open them.
He could do a lot of things now that he had his memories back. In the days since he drank the river water, his emotions and thoughts had been a turbulent storm within him. The world was so clear. His love for Adeen and Azar burned hot and bright, like a sun finally cleared after centuries of being covered by clouds. He wanted to smite everyone who had caused Adeen and Azar pain and robbed him of the ability to protect them and make them happy.
Zrel’s heavy footsteps pounded up the side of the volcano until the Hellhound, shifting from a four-legged beast the size of a bull, to his two-legged human form, stood beside him. “Angels have no consideration for those of us without wings.” Despite his complaining, and having run for miles at top speed for days with no rest, Zrel wasn’t even breathing hard. He stared at the gates and shuddered.
“The Underworlds. This is a terrible idea. You know that, right? Because even I know that, and I’m a Hellhound and we love bad ideas.”
It probably was a bad idea, but it was the fastest way to find Azar and Adeen. They’d lost so many years because of his stolen memories. He knew now Adeen hadn’t died the day she’d saved Azar. She’d been with him all along, only he hadn’t known it. No wonder Azar was always talking to birds. Even the one that was really a man who had kidnapped her. The Underworlds were all connected, and for those like him, there was always a way out. He could find the world Azar had been taken and where Adeen had followed.
Dayiel drew his sword from its scabbard on his back.“You don’t have to come.”
Zrel snorted, turning a baleful glare on Dayiel. “That’s a worse idea. You know that, right? Because I promised Adeen that I would watch over you, and even as a Hellhound I don’t want to be on the wrong side of Phoenix fire.” He rubbed his flank. “Again.”
Dayiel couldn’t help a smile, remembering Adeen’s fury. “Stings a little, doesn’t it.”
“A little.” That earned him a smirk before Zrel turned serious. “They’ll sense you’ve returned, you know. They’ll carry through on their threats.”
They could probably already sense he was no longer Fallen. If he concentrated, there was something built into him that told him there were others like him. When it was at full strength, he could use it to find them. The other Angels. He hoped with the link so weak on his side, their link to him was equally tenuous. At least until he was ready to deal with them. They might not know his memories were restored, and he could use that to his advantage. He had been the first among the warriors. The best fighter ever numbered in their ranks. But taking on the entire Host of Angels alone would test even his abilities. He would take every advantage he could get.
Dayiel’s fist tightened around the hilt of his sword. “If I remember correctly, and now I do remember correctly, I made a few threats of my own. I will carry through on those, too.”
Zrel snorted, sending a tendril of smoke rising from his nose. “Adeen will be angry if you don’t wait for her to start the smiting.” He smiled with a flash of gleaming fangs.
She surely would. He loved her flames, but didn’t need to be burned by Phoenix fire. Again. Well, not when she was angry anyway. “You’re not wrong about that, so we need to find Adeen and Azar quickly. Get ready to jump.” Dayiel flapped his wings and leapt into the air. For years, his flight muscles had been unused. They ached from all the exertion of the last few days, but he couldn’t open the gates from the ground.
“No consideration,” Zrel muttered. Dark fur sprouted, his body contorted, and his eyes glowed with red and orange flames as he shifted to his Hellhound form. He backed up to get a running start.
Adeen had strange friends. No doubt she and Zrel had bonded over her love of bad ideas and rushing headlong into situations others would flee. But there was no doubt about his loyalty. A Hellhound didn’t escape the Underworlds often, and when they did, they stayed away for fear of being enslaved again. For Zrel to be willing and ready to leap back into the Underworlds without hesitation was another indication of his dedication to Adeen.
A few flaps carried Dayiel high enough to see the whole of the gates. He slid his sword along his forearm. Blood streamed from the cut before his healing magic sealed the injury.
Dayiel shaped his blood into a key. “Irekita, otvoren, wazi, vekiri.” Infused with his magic, the key expanded. It grew in size and shape to match the lines below and turned to align with the gate as it lowered to sink into the rock. The earth shuddered with an ominous crack like thunder. He focused on the one place he knew best in the Underworlds and mentally ordered the gates to open. They resisted. Like his flight muscles, his magic was unpracticed after years of no use, but Dayiel concentrated and reached deep for more of his power. He might not open the gates exactly to his destination — no doubt his fellow Angels had changed the metaphysical locks after he Fell, but he could get close. He hoped.
With a creaky protest, the gates gave way and opened, the dark rock sinking into the earth, releasing a dense swirling whirlpool of portal energy. Dayiel tucked his wings in close to streamline his body and dove into the vortex, accompanied by the ominous howl of a Hellhound. Fierce winds buffeted him, making his eyes water and as his exhausted muscles failed. His wings folded in on themselves. His dive turned into an uncontrolled tumble, and he braced himself for a hard landing. Instead, he splashed into murky, fetid water and sank.
Careful not to let the water into his mouth, Dayiel kicked to the surface. Who knew what river this was or what would happen if he drank more Underworld water. He’d done that twice and had enough of those experiences. Sometimes just touching the water was enough for dire consequences. Dayiel hoped this wasn’t that kind of water as he surfaced. Winds howled and thunder boomed.
“Limbo.” Not nearly as far as he hoped to go, but there were worse places he could have landed. High overhead the bright sun was shut out as the gates crashed closed. The eerie greenish glow of whatever passed for light in the Underworlds illuminated the expanse of the river. The water was dark and the current sluggish. The shore wasn’t too far away, and was empty of Underworld denizens His arrival should have attracted at least some attention. A huge splash a few feet from him nearly drove him under again.
Zrel surfaced, sputtering. “Your aim is off. I hate wet fur.” He turned his back on Dayiel and swam toward the shore.
“I’m out of practice.” Dayiel swam after his friend, dragging heavy, wet wings behind him and clambered onto the muddy bank at the edge of the water. His wings, armor, and leathers dried as soon as he exited the water. He kept his sword out, but even on shore he couldn’t see anyone around.
Dayiel let his enhanced senses take in his environment. A grassy meadow the size of a village was like a circular green carpet that led to a thickly wooded forest on all sides. He heard nothing stirring in the trees. No breathing or heartbeats other than his and Zrel’s. A few rowboats lay abandoned on their sides, and judging by the height of the silt around them, they’d been there for weeks. All he smelled was the scent of rotting leaves. No blood. No smoke from cooking fires. Nothing.
He sheathed his sword. “I don’t remember Limbo being empty.”
It was normally teeming with newly arrived souls and those trying to sneak into the Underworlds or escape from them. It was the nearest level to many human worlds, and one of the mildest.
The Hellhound shook his fur dry like the big dog he was. “Last time you were here was before the Merge.”
“The Merge?” Dayiel searched his memories,coming up with nothing. “The Underworlds have always been connected.”
Zrel shook his head. “Not like this. It’s more like the Underworlds are colliding or combining. The magic in the Underworlds hasn’t been quite right for a while.It’s sometimes…unpredictable. There have been several wars because of overlapping territories, and some places evacuated. I didn’t think it had spread to Limbo, though.”
“You might have mentioned that.” Dayiel didn’t want any delays in finding Adeen and Azar. He didn’t care about wars, politics, or territories anymore, and didn’t want to be dragged into taking sides in any disputes. Even in the Underworlds there were alliances, and shifting allegiances.
Smoke drifted from Zrel’s nose. “Right. And when would have I done that? In the half second between when you woke up and ran out the door? Maybe I should have shouted all the latest gossip up to you while you were flying above me for days?”
Dayiel sighed. “Perhaps I acted a little hastily. I just…I just…” He couldn’t put his anxiety into words. With his memories back, it was a sense of urgency that only built.
“You just want to find your wife and daughter and are in a bit of a hurry. So let’s go.” Zrel bounded toward the forest. “This way to Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Wrath, and Heresy.”
Dayiel knew the way, but sprinted after the Hellhound. He had more recent knowledge about the areas to be avoided. But as they progressed through the levels of this Underworld, it wasn’t needed. Violent storm winds tore though the empty second level of Lust. A disgusting sludge oozed through where those punished for Gluttony should be. Huge boulders lay unattended where the souls on the level of Greed would push them around, and the reeking swamp of Wrath was abandoned. Was this all because of the Merge? What could cause the Underworlds to collide?
They encountered few Underworld dwellers, and the ones they did see scurried away — until they crossed the boundary between the fifth and sixth levels, stopping atop a steep cliff that offered a panoramic view.
Though Dayiel remembered with perfect clarity, the city of Dis had changed. The walled city held a fortress of black stone that rose from the center, although three of the four towers at the corners were broken stubs. Smoke and ash rose into the air from narrow paths between buildings that formed a twisty maze.
Dis had become a sort of marketplace where almost anything could be bought or sold, and had grown from a simple fortress to a sprawling city. There were hundreds, probably thousands, of relics in the Underworlds and they attracted all sorts of attention from those who wanted magic for miracles or power. The way the Underworlds were connected also drew visitors searching for or escaping from something.
Angels had taken up residence in order to quell uprisings, as well as provide a presence to deter the buying and selling of more extreme things — like sentient creatures and anything deemed too powerful. The rules were open to interpretation. Normally insular, Angels were thought of as elitist and judgmental by many Other Worlders, but living in Dis had forced them to interact in a gray area where sometimes beings thought of as evil did good things and paragons fell from grace. It was a confusing, but overall peaceful place, since the locale was close to eternal punishments.
Now, Dis was a city under siege.
“Do you remember this city?” Zrel tilted his blocky Hellhound head to the side to peer at Dayiel.
Dayiel sighed. “Yes, Zrel. I remember Dis.”
“Sorry.” Zrel shrugged one massive shoulder. “Habit.”
Outside the walls of Dis lay a plain of fiery graves where heretics were buried. “Wasn’t the graveyard inside the city last time?”
“It was relocated when its residents kept…rising.”
Rising. That sounded troublesome and sent a shiver down Dayiel’s spine. Those weren’t the biggest changes, though. Here was physical proof of the Merge. The walled city had become the center of a wheel and the spokes were other Underworlds.
Armies of Gallu, Djinn, giants, demons, oni, minotaurs, centaurs, vampires and shifters of all kinds, faced each other from their respective entrances. If they had a leader who could unite them, Dis would fall in minutes. But the armies faced each other as well as the city. Everything seemed to be frozen, as if the demons knew as soon as one army attacked the city, the others would fall on them. Some of the leaders Dayiel knew.
Eligos, fully armored, sat on his smokey, red-eyed demon horse with his sixty legions of demons arrayed behind him. Barbatos and his four companion warriors led thirty legions of spirits. Yan-gant-y-tan, a giant, bushy bearded cloaked man stood with other Wanderers, the fingers of their right hands burning bright.
A tall man with golden hair stood next to a black-haired woman and a man with silver hair. Riordan, Selene, and Tazraus. Her presence meant there were mages somewhere in the masses below. Could mages have done something to cause the Merge? They hungered for magic and would do anything to get it. As much as he didn’t want to get embroiled in someone else’s fight, if Selene asked for his help, he would fight for her. He owed her a debt he might never be able to repay. Selene had told him how to Fall so he could be with Adeen after Angels had forbidden the relationship and ordered Adeen’s death.
Selene, Riordan, and Tazraus made their way through the armies without engaging with anyone or looking around and disappeared into one of the Other World entrances that did not have an army at the ready.
Several Angel sentries stood on the ramparts of Dis, although it was unlikely anyone in the city didn’t know about the armies at the gates. One of the lookouts turned and stared directly at them. His hair gleamed in coppery waves to his shoulders and his robes were a pristine white. His wings snapped out and he pointed at Dayiel. Gabriel had pushed hard for Adeen’s death. Dayiel had wanted to punch that smug, supercilious sneer off Gabriel’s face for centuries, even when he didn’t remember him..
“Of course it had to be Gabriel,” Zrel muttered. “He’s always been a blabbermouth. Everyone will know we’re here now.”
The vengeful Angels could probably take Dayiel down if they worked together, but he was in no mood to make it easy for them. “There are bigger things for them to worry about than me.”
Snorts and the sound of large hooves scratching at the ground took Dayiel’s attention from the armies below to the trees behind them. Several huge boars lowered their heads and lumbered forward. Glistening tusks jutted from their jaws and the huge creatures picked up speed as they neared. Dayiel drew his blade and Zrel opened his mouth wide to show off all his sharp teeth. The animals squealed and fell, writhing on the ground. A ball of dust expanded from their squirming forms. When it cleared and the pigs rose to their cloven feet, wings jutted from their backs. The delicate appendages flapped, lifting the huge animals into the air.
“What the —” Zrel took a step backward, grimaced, and held up his paw. His foot dripped red. Blood. Dayiel glanced down. Stones were leaking blood. From the red puddles, crystalline flowers bloomed. Salt flowers. In the distance, a fast moving wave covered everything in its path. The temperature plummeted. Ice in Hell. A bright light lit up the area to the west, and in the east a blue moon hung in the sky. These were all omens of impossible things happening. All of them occurring at once must be some of the magic being unpredictable.
A horn blared a call to arms within Dis. The other armies came to attention, and tension filled the air with palpable pressure and anticipation as the gate to the city opened.
The earth trembled, throwing soldiers to the ground. Fissures opened beneath their feet, sending anyone not able to scramble out of the way into a deep abyss. The cracks spread, running all the way to Dis, and climbing the walls. Bricks and mortar crumbled.
Menacing hisses, booms, and pops made Dayiel wince, then portals, gateways, and doors to other worlds opened in shimmers everywhere. The portals offered glimpses into other places and worlds. Through one portal, a foreboding storm sent vicious bolt of lightning toward a dark man flying into the sky.
Azar’s kidnapper. Dayiel would recognize that man anywhere. What kind of world had he taken Azar to? If he had hurt her in any way, Dayiel would risk Adeen’s Phoenix fire and smite him on the spot.
One lightning strike hit something below the dark man, putting on a brilliant display of colors. Flames of red, orange, yellow, and gold exploded from the point of impact and took on the form of a Phoenix.
“Adeen.” Dayiel whispered her name but she seemed to hear, and peered at him through the vast distance between them. Her appearance had changed. She was much bigger and had some blue feathers now, but he knew his love no matter her form. She tore her eyes away, breaking their connection to stare into another portal.
“I’m here.” Dayiel took a step forward, coming to an abrupt halt as Zrel grabbed his arm.
“They’ll shoot you down before you can reach her.” Zrel pointed at some archers who had joined Gabriel on the ramparts.
They could try. “Adeen!” Dayiel threw off the Hellhound’s grip and summoned his wings, ready to fly.
Adeen whipped her head around and found him again. Her conflicted expression tore at his heart. Her eyes were full of love, then sadness, then resolve. She screeched, turned, and soared into the other portal. A sharp, hot searing burned into Dayiel’s chest, scribing magic into his heart.
Find me, my love. Find me and our Azar.
Dayiel closed his eyes, memorizing the sound of Adeen’s voice so he would never forget it again.“I don’t know where that rift leads, but Adeen is on the other side, and so is Azar. That’s where I have to go.”
The portal he needed was in front of Dis, almost aligned with the city gates. Right in the middle of everything. But who knew how long it would remain open if the magic was unstable. He had to take the chance and get to the opening before it closed.
“Sure,” Zrel huffed. “We’ll just take the shortcut through the armies. Not all of us can fly, you know. Phonixes and Angels are never considerate of the four-legged types.”
Dayiel couldn’t help a grin at the good-natured complaining from his friend. Whoever he was running at usually got out of his way. In his Hellhound form he was the size of a bull. But that wasn’t helpful right now. They were vastly outnumbered, and the fastest way off the clifftop was wings. He drew his sword and offered it to Zrel.
“Climb on my back and try to keep whatever they throw at us from hitting us.”
Zrel’s flaming eyes grew round as he accepted the blade. “Well, if they didn’t already want to smite you for consorting with a Phoenix, they’d definitely want to smite you now for handing over an Angel weapon to a Hellhound.”
Dayiel turned his back to Zrel and crouched, bracing for the heavy Hellhound’s weight. He hoped his muscles were up to carrying a passenger.
Human arms and legs wrapped around Dayiel’s body. “Can you fly us high enough to avoid their projectiles?”
“No.” Dayiel staggered a step, trying to adjust his balance. “This is going to be more of a controlled fall.” Not giving Zrel a chance to protest, Dayiel ran two steps and pushed off the clifftop with as much strength as he could muster. They soared briefly, but the extra weight was too much for already strained muscles. Dayiel banked into a downward spiral, using momentum to maintain control as he aimed for the portal in front of Dis. Gabriel’s archers took aim, and fired.
His flaming sword flashed to the side, knocking away one arrow that came too close, then Zrel yelped as Dayiel stopped flapping and dropped straight down to avoid flying into a portal that opened in mid-air.
The loss of momentum and altitude robbed Dayiel of the controlled glide and they fell several long seconds while he desperately flapped his wings. He was going to crash and miss the portal. Adeen and Azar needed him. He had to get to them. His muscles screamed their protest at his demand they do more, but a surge of magic and strength surged within him. With a yell, part desperation and part triumph, he flapped his wings and gained some height.
Tossing the idea of a controlled spiral aside, Dayiel aimed himself straight at the portal that had given him a glimpse of Adeen. Gabriel shouted at his archers. Volleys of arrows flew. He was going to take some injuries, but it couldn’t be helped. Even his Angel sword couldn’t block so many arrows.
Silver magic streaked from below, coalescing into a small silver girl who hugged him, her tiny arms wrapped tight around his neck.
Dayiel held her close to his chest. “Sora, I’ve missed your hugs, but it’s dangerous around me at the moment.”
His flaming sword knocking an arrow away punctuated his words.
“It’s dangerous everywhere at the moment.” Sora spoke in a conversational tone like they were having tea rather than dodging arrows in an Underworld filled with armies ready to go to war.
Remembering Azar at the age Sora appeared to be, Dayiel gave up arguing. Plus, Sora always looked like a small girl, but that was just a guise she wore to feed her penchant for hugs. She was something far older than even him. It would be faster to just answer her questions. “Into that portal.” He pointed to the one that had shown him Adeen.
“Hug me tight,” Sora commanded imperiously. She waited for him to obey. “I have to help Selene so I can’t go with you, but I can poof you.”
“Uh.” Zrel cleared his throat. “Poof sounds nonspecific. What is this poof thing?”
Sora smiled beatifically at Zrel over Dayiel’s shoulder. “This.”
Dayiel wasn’t enthusiastic about poofing as a mode of transportation, although he would never say that to Sora. Being shifted through space, and on occasion, time, without any control, made him nervous. His stomach lurched as silver magic latched onto him and simply moved him elsewhere.
“Bye.” Sora kissed his cheek and vanished from his arms.
Dayiel soared through the portal into the lightning storm. Zrel yelped again and a dazzling explosion of light momentarily blinded Dayiel as a magic enhanced bolt struck in front of him. Portals were everywhere in this world, too. Which one had Adeen been looking at? Dayiel scanned the skies, but the fire burning in his heart pulled his gaze toward the ground, and he couldn’t stop a smile. He’d bet anything Adeen had gone through the portal that was on fire.
He was running out of energy, but couldn’t stop now. He was a world closer to Adeen and Azar, but still a world too far away. Calling on the last of his power, he flew into the fiery portal.
Let this be the last one.
Dayiel didn’t have the strength to fly any farther. He and Zrel exited the portal in an ungraceful crash of limbs, tumbling over each other on soft-packed earth. Someone’s flower garden.
“Ouch.” Zrel muttered a muffled complaint, his head caught in a leafy hedge.
Dayiel ignored the Hellhound, leapt to his feet, and scooped up his sword, sending his wings away in a shower of soil as he sprinted n the direction the fire in his heart wanted him to go. The village was in chaos — a battle in progress. Screaming and yelling. Blood and smoke. He’d seen, smelled, and heard it all before and hoped he’d left it behind. But he’d never seen a battle quite like this.
A thirty-foot giant battled a tree equally as tall with serpentine black branches that ended in pointy needles and stabbed into his flesh. Two Centaurs armed with spears faced off against a mob of Redcaps. Kappas and Ghouls had joined forces against a Sphinx, Lamia, and Golem. The air overhead was no safer. Harpies, a Pegasus, winged-women that might be Furies, at least two Gryphons, several dragons, and flying heads fought in the sky. Magic and projectiles flew in every direction.
Combatants blinked in and out of reality interrupting their battles. Portals opened behind and under beings and creatures, dragging them away or dropping new victims into the fray before the gateways snapped shut.
“It’s like all the worlds have gone crazy.” Zrel shook dirt and plant detritus off his fur. “What now?”
“Now we find Adeen and Azar.” The fire in Dayiel’s heart drew him down the street. Hellhound footsteps pounded behind him as he sprinted through the village. And finally, there she was.
Adeen. She swung swords of flame as she stood over a still form huddled into a ball at her feet. Azar. A smaller figure made of dark smoke curled around his daughter. Was she helping Azar or hurting her? Adeen fought off attackers, but they were trying to surround her. Even then, though, she wouldn’t leave a threat so close unacknowledged or touching their daughter. So, either the smoke figure wasn’t a threat or was less of one than the attackers Adeen currently battled.
Dayiel bellowed a war-cry and his vision narrowed so all he saw were the women he loved more than life itself. He forged a path to Adeen, dodging portals and using his sword to clear anything or anyone daring to enter the space between him and his goal. He reached Adeen and spun to place his back to hers. They had fought this way many times and fell into the rhythm they’d always had as they protected one another’s back, now with their daughter on the ground between them.
“Hello, my Firebird.” Dayiel blocked the strike of a sword with his. “Fancy meeting you in the middle of a fight.”
Adeen laughed, the sound lightening his mood despite their circumstances. “I’ve missed you, my love.”
“Who are we fighting today?” Maybe she had a better idea of what was happening.
“Anyone who comes close to Azar.”
That was acceptable to him. A mob rounded the corner and ran at him. They carried torches and makeshift weapons — pieces of broken chairs. A shovel. Sacks of what he guessed were rocks.
Zrel pushed in between Dayiel and Adeen turning their back-to-back formation into a triangle. “Hi, Adeen. I brought your husband. I would appreciate it if you didn’t misplace him again.”
Adeen laughed again. “I plan to keep him close from now on.” She swept a wing out, burning a flight of arrows headed in their direction. “This place isn’t stable. Dayiel, give me your wings.”
He summoned his wings, unfurling them in a flash of silvery-white. Adeen curled her fiery wingtips back toward his. When they touched, magic flowed into him, making the fine hairs on his arms, legs, and nape stand on end. It was Adeen’s fire, but not her fire. Familiar, yet there was a new, raw power she hadn’t had before. The air crackled and lightning arced from his feathers, targeting attackers and turning them to ash until their combined efforts momentarily cleared a circle around them.
Blood still hot from battle, and magic a bit haywire from lightning-fire, Dayiel searched for any threats. Someone was between him and Azar. With barely a thought from him, his sword was at the neck of the Ifrit crouching over Azar. They were powerful Other World beings and never did anything without extracting a price, one most of their victims didn’t expect to pay.
The Ifrit squeaked, her eyes rounding in terror, though she didn’t remove her hands from Azar. Some part of him relished in her fear, but a larger part of him was horrified at his enjoyment.
“Please,” the Ifrit whispered, like she was afraid anything louder would cause the blade to cut her throat. “I ask for nothing and only want to help. She needs energy.”
Dayiel examined the woman. Her huge, scared eyes had flames burning in her irises, but they were flickers, not the incandescent fires typical of Ifrits, and had dark shadows beneath them. Her shadowy form appeared more gossamer than before. She was exhausted.
“My name is Kishi,” the Ifrit offered. “It’s my true name and gives you power over me.”
Azar groaned, the sound anguished.
All Dayiel’s aggression vanished, replaced by worry for his daughter. “Azar.” He collapsed to his knees. “Where are you hurt?” He ran his eyes over her, his Angelic magic ready to heal.
“Her pain isn’t from the battle.” Adeen crouched next to their daughter. “She’s in labor.”
Stunned, Dayiel couldn’t quite grasp what his wife had said. He hadn’t been separated from Azar for so long. Even in his muddled state, surely he would have known if she had been pregnant, wouldn’t he? But when she rolled onto her back, there was no denying her huge belly. “What… How…” His fatherly instincts tore through his confusion to ask the most important question as his hand tightened around his sword hilt. “Who?” he demanded.
“Papa,” Azar murmured.
He held one of her hands. “I’m here, Little Bird.”
Her small, delicate fingers intertwined with large, calloused ones. “You haven’t called me Little Bird since…”
Since he thought Adeen had been killed and didn’t want her talking to ravens.
Azar smiled the smile she had always saved for him. “You found me.”
His heart swelled with happiness and broke at the same time. “Of course I did.”
She squeezed his hand hard enough he imagined his bones creaked. “I’m sorry for leaving you, Papa.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Little Bird.”
“But I —” Azar groaned again.
Adeen brushed hair from Azar’s sweaty forehead. “We need to get you to a safe place. The babies are coming. Twins. Uncommon for Phoenixes, but I can feel their magic. That’s why you need extra energy.”
Kishi tilted her head to look between himself and Adeen. “If you come with me, I know a place we can hide.”
“I’ll give her the energy she needs.” Adeen shifted into a small version of her Phoenix form and perched atop Azar’s belly.
Dayiel slid his arms under Azar’s knees and shoulders and stood. “Lead the way.”
“I don’t have much power left. Move fast.” The Ifrit stood and burst into a column of flames. “Quickly,” the flames whispered.
Dayiel walked into the fire.