their destination. Through an open door, she saw Elodie at rest on one of the narrow beds, two of the healers bending over her. Leena’s chest squeezed at the sight.
“Will she recover?” she asked.
The Mother drew a breath, but she held it for a long moment before she spoke. “I believe so. I hope so. Juradoc is a formidable foe. Elodie is not meant for such battles.”
Leena gave a tight nod.
“Though you did well.” The Mother touched Leena’s cheek—a light, cool caress.
“Not well enough to help her,” Leena murmured. “The Flame was silent to me. As always.”
“You cannot force the Flame to speak. Humility and openness are required first. You must surrender.”
As many times as Leena had heard that advice, she was still uncertain what it meant.
“You have done the best thing by bringing Elodie here,” the Mother said gently. “Go home and rest. You fought well and earned your weariness.”
“I don’t know if I will sleep. In my mind’s eye, all I see is Juradoc.”
The Mother’s lips thinned. “Have you wondered why the general, in all his pride and fury, has not dared to attack the temple?”
“That is a good question.” If Juradoc wished to access the Flame, why bother with a few dancers when the entire temple was nearby?
The Mother gave a chill smile. “He is a coward who prefers a fight he is sure to win. I embrace these streets like an eagle guarding her chicks. He will not attack the Kelthian tribe on my doorstep. Go to sleep knowing you are safe.”
With that, she turned and entered the infirmary. Left alone, Leena retraced her steps through the temple, too tired for more than unthinking obedience. Still, she slowed as she crossed the rotunda, mesmerized by the flickering fire. She sank onto the steps, content to warm herself for a moment.
Kifi bumped against Leena’s arm. Absently, she petted the cat, taking comfort from its soft fur. Here and there, other cats lazed on the steps, yellow eyes reflecting the fire. Most, but not all, were black like Kifi.
“I heard what you told the Mother,” Kifi said. “You were lucky the prince interfered.”
“I’m not sure he interfered on purpose,” Leena said, lifting her arm so Kifi could crawl into her lap. “Who knows why he fell into a rage?”
Kifi’s yellow gaze was steady. “Was he more terrifying than the Shade?”
“Violence is simpler than spells. I suppose that counts for something.”
Kifi put a velvet paw against her chin. “I’m glad you’re safe. No one else brings me treats from the palace.”
“I’m afraid I had no time to steal any tidbits for you tonight.”
Kifi sniffed delicately. “Perhaps I love you anyway.”
They sat in silence long enough for Leena to start yawning. Kifi’s purr was a comforting rumble against her lap.
“If Morran is so damaged, why not kill him?” Leena mused. “There’s little of him left. It makes no sense.”
“Does he have something the Shades want?”
“I overheard they’re going to his palace at Tymeera.”
Kifi raised her head. “The fabled city? The home of the Great Temple? That is where the first among the temple cats bowed to the Flame. To tread those sands would be the honor of a lifetime.” The awe in Kifi’s voice was plain.
“One which you are far too young to deserve,” came a second feline voice. “A pilgrimage so rare is reserved for those with wisdom, not harum-scarum kittens.”
A larger, fluffier cat sat nearby, her tail wrapped about her paws. Leena recognized her as a senior member of the temple’s colony. The cats were the fire fae's memory, keeping the stories and wisdom that earth or air fae might write down in books. The language and meaning of the stars, the use of plants, the genealogy of kings—the cats of the fire fae remembered it all with perfect recall. What one cat learned, they all understood, though getting them to divulge the information was another matter.
Kifi sank deeper into Leena’s lap at her elder's appearance, almost as if she hoped to disappear. Leena stroked Kifi’s ears, but turned her attention to the senior feline. “What do you think of tonight’s events, Grandmother?”
“Here is one fact,” the senior cat said. “The enemy fed on the Flame. He demanded you to dance to summon it. Here is a second fact—the Phoenix Prince is the guardian of the Great Temple at Tymeera. The Shade holds Morran like a puppet on strings. Perhaps he is too valuable to kill.”
“Why?”
A presence loomed behind Leena, and she craned her neck to see the