Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,84
the firebird as his own familiar.”
“But nothing works out,” Morran said, picking up the thread. “I escape, and Fionn fails to kidnap Barleycorn. And yet, he’s still moving ahead. He’s smashed his way into the temple—incredible enough—and he’s soaking up raw power. This shouldn’t be possible.”
Kifi spoke up. “Perhaps the Shades combined are strong enough to withstand the heat of raw Flame for a time. Juradoc’s counting on his mob as a shield while he works.”
“Works at what?” Morran asked.
Kifi’s whiskers lifted in smug satisfaction. “I believe he’s searching for the egg, but I got there first.”
Morran’s gaze shot to the egg nestled in the curve of Kifi’s side. The idea of Juradoc stealing his other half twisted and slithered down his nerves.
“So how does this joining happen?” Leena asked. “If we’re to save the Flame, it must take place with as little delay as possible.”
Morran sat, numb with apprehension. He didn’t remember how he had joined with Arlanoth. It had happened at birth, an automatic union forged in ritual and ceremony. “Adults don’t join with a familiar. It’s impossible to unite if the two candidates are at different life stages.”
“How so?”
“One would perceive the world as a child does, the other not. More significantly, the patterns of power solidify over time. Magic and power grow to maturity along with the rest of us. The younger half of the bond would be crushed, the older half broken in the attempt to adapt. Both would perish.”
He picked up the silk bag from the table, then slid the egg out. It gleamed in the faint light of the tent, perfect, golden, and impossible to access. There was no lid to open, no lock to turn. Within, he could sense his other half sleeping beyond his reach. The impulse to break it free was almost irresistible, yet any attempt to tamper would destroy it. “There must be a means to unlock its secrets.”
“Can we hatch it, then wait till it grows up?” Kifi suggested. “A chick might be an entertaining playmate.”
Morran shook his head. “The Shades will have destroyed us by then.”
“Then what do we know about the phoenix?” Leena asked. “They are creatures of the Flame. They die and are reborn.”
Leena came to stand beside Morran, reaching out one tentative finger to lightly brush the egg’s gleaming shell. “There was one more prophecy that was made regarding the Prince of Tymeera.”
Leena’s gaze moved from the egg to Morran’s face. “May I pick it up?”
Morran nodded, conscious of the slide of her fingers over the egg’s delicate shell. Her brows drew together, an expression of deep concentration pushing all other emotions from her features.
“What is it?” Morran braced himself, reluctant to hear the answer.
Her attention returned to him. Morran stared down into her eyes, trying to read all the layers of meaning there. He couldn’t.
As if sensing his confusion, she took a step back, gathering herself. “Before I left to follow Fionn among the Shades, I visited the Temple at Eldaban. The prophecy came from the Mother.”
“And?”
Leena touched the chatelaine at her belt. “She said the poison I carry is for you.”
Now it all made sense to Leena. Yes, Juradoc had twisted the idea into an order to murder Morran, but that didn’t matter now. The Mother’s original words had been plain: I dreamed of poison and the prince, of his fall into the Flame. You were part of the dream, sowing his ashes in a newly plowed field. She had been speaking of rebirth, of death supporting new life.
Leena drew a long breath, her fear of the prophecy finally releasing. An ache seemed to vanish, letting her breathe. The egg seemed to grow heavier, more solid. However threatened the Flame might be, it still whispered to the tiny creature inside, lulling it with the song of fire.
“Poison?” Morran eyes widened with surprise. “May I point out that if I am dead, my ability to fight the Shades will be greatly reduced.”
You know what to do. The Flame’s rasping voice was clear in her head.
Leena gazed down at the egg in her hand. To her surprise, she did know. It was the simplest of equations. Carefully, she set the egg down on the table beside Kifi, who had fallen asleep on her pillow.
“You will only perish for the briefest moment.”
“Is that meant to comfort me?” Morran’s tone was light, but it couldn’t hide his alarm.
“Do you trust me?”
This had to be a moment of complete trust, or nothing would work.