Phoenix Flame - Sara Holland Page 0,81

Haven’s antique shop—and turn it over in my hands, feeling the wind magic inside raising goose bumps, as if the faintest of breezes already emanates from the silver surface.

“Before, I just kind of … willed it to happen. The magic is already in there, it just needs to be let out.”

“Okay, good to know.” Taya’s voice is small, though, as she looks down at the silver.

“Let’s split up the magic,” I say. “I’ll melt the silver until it’s pliable with fire magic. Nahteran will use wind magic to shape it into the fake phoenix flame armor, and Taya will cool it with ice magic. Then we’ll put it together. I’m sure I can scrounge up some tools around the inn.”

We all agree not to do any test runs with the magic, knowing that once the magic is spent from an object, the bound soul seems to vanish from it as well. Even if using soul-silver is the only way to pull off this deceit, none of us want to use any more than necessary. We can’t mess this up.

Here goes … everything.

It only has to look good enough, I remind myself, anxiety brewing in the pit of my stomach, before passing the spoon to Nahteran and taking the bowl from Taya. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and call forth the fire.

It responds as if the Byrnisian magic bound to the bowl has been straining at its bonds, roiling just under the surface. A flame springs into existence between my hands, startling me so much I almost drop the bowl. It’s shaped like a candle flame, but larger and brighter, feeding on nothing, dancing in midair. I can feel the flow of magic, from the bowl to my fingers to the warmth of the flame, and it makes me dizzy and guilty and exhilarated all at once.

Setting the bowl in my lap so I keep contact with it, I lift up my hands, concentrating hard. Yet the flame seems like something alive, eager to do my will. It rises with my hands, and when I turn my hands downward toward the arrayed soul-silver, the flame eagerly kisses the glittering metal and turns it slowly from silver to red.

When the metal starts to go pink, rust-smelling wisps of smoke drifting from its surface, Nahteran is ready with his wind magic. A faint breeze floats around the room, scentless, unlike those coming from the Fiorden and Byrnisian doorways. But when Nahteran moves his hands, it concentrates, becoming a tiny funnel cloud that bears down on the slowly melting silver. It has the effect of a putty knife, smoothing the lumpy, glowing blob of metal out until it resembles a rib, resembles the real phoenix flame armor.

Then Taya hits it with a blast of ice wind, solidifying it again.

We all stop and let the magic die down, staring at what we’ve created. I’m out of breath, and my heart is beating fast. Looking at the others, I see it’s the same for them; Nahteran’s face is flushed and Taya’s chest is rising and falling rapidly.

“This is going to take for—ev—er,” Taya observes between pants.

“We can stay down here all night if we have to,” Nahteran says.

He’s out of breath too, the magic having taken its toll on all of us, but a strange intensity has come over his face. His eyes are bright, and there’s a spark in them, something I don’t think I’ve seen on his face since I found him in Winterkill. It looks like hope.

After we assembled the basic shapes of the armor imbued with Byrnisian fire, Fiorden poisoning, or similarly dangerous magic, we melted down the gold and coated the pieces in a thin layer.

Then Nahteran and I huddled close to the lantern and used the points of our daggers to recreate the phoenix flame armor’s intricate carvings as best we could; while Taya power drilled the tiniest of holes in the armor and strung it together with copper wire from the supply closet.

By the end of it, we were exhausted. We all had burns on our hands from the fire magic and cuts from getting too close to sharp edges in the imperfect light. All three of us were wilted and short-tempered and annoyed with each other.

But after the last snacks and midnight coffees were consumed, we all stepped back to stare at what we had created and realized—we have something. A decently good counterfeit of the phoenix flame armor. It won’t hold up to