Phoenix Flame - Sara Holland Page 0,87

sway, caught in the gale. The wind and crashing have intensified so much that when Nahteran speaks again, he has to almost scream to be heard.

“He told me it had to be here in Havenfall, or he wouldn’t come. But he doesn’t know about the trick armor. This can still work.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask, confused and impossibly hurt, so hurt it feels like a void has opened up in my chest to match the one forming beneath our feet.

I can feel the wood changing just like it did in Winterkill, turning honey-soft. The soles of my boots sink down. I see silhouettes beneath the floor, upside-down buildings, metallic and strange against a violently red-and-gold sky.

“Because you might not have believed me.” Nahteran stumbles and almost loses his footing as the floor bucks beneath him. “And then there’d be no one to follow the Silver Prince’s instructions and he’d kill Mom.” He clings to the pillar like it’s a life preserver in a thrashing sea. “I swear he doesn’t know about the counterfeit. I swear it.”

“Shut up,” Taya snarls. Her hand whips out to point toward the opening to Oasis, and I see that the nail of her pointer finger has lengthened and darkened, into a blue claw.

“He’s coming.”

Nahteran blanches and hastily buttons his jacket. I don’t know why. It’s warm in the ballroom. Too warm. The hissing intensifies, glittering steam rising up from the opening into the air, and the ground shudders, the transparent part spreading until it’s almost at our feet. I fling my arms out to keep my balance, and Taya grabs me and hauls me back before I fall over the edge. She drops to her knees, bracing herself against the wall, and I do the same.

A warm, metallic-smelling breeze fills the ballroom. Nahteran is standing, still. His expression a mask, impossible to read, his eyes glassy and his jaw set. His gaze stays fixed on the light in the doorway to Byrn. Its center, where the blood fell, is clear as diamonds. I can see Oasis’s buildings and shining empty streets, black shapes in the sky.

Then a figure starts to rise from the opening in the floor. I can see only a silhouette through the dark steam, but I instantly recognize it. I know that pale form, those sharp features and proud posture. I know the Silver Prince.

He steps out into the ballroom, just as calm as if this were another night at the summit, another dance. He wears a crown that I never saw when he was pretending to preserve peace at Havenfall. It’s a circlet of black metal with spikes rising straight up. A long, slender white sword dangles lazily from his fingertips. As I watch, frozen, he raises his hand and sends a thin, silent blast of fire at the doors to the hallway. Melting the filigree from the heavy wood—sealing the doors shut.

“Nahteran,” he says, his voice rising above the hiss of the doorway as though carried by the Oasis air filling the room. His voice is warm, jovial almost, but it still sends a shiver through my bones. “I am glad to see you holding up your end of the bargain. I confess I wasn’t sure if you would.”

I shift my gaze to Nahteran, trying to catch my brother’s eye. The look on his face is awe mixed with fear. It hurts my chest to see his reaction, which seems like a look forged out of years of history, and not good history.

He told us a minute ago that he was still on our side, but I no longer have faith that that’s true. I want to believe it. I just can’t. I push myself to a standing position and grab Taya’s hand, pulling her up too. The ground is still shuddering, but I want to be on my feet if the Silver Prince comes at us with that sword. I draw my own dagger and grip it tight.

Nahteran stands his ground, stepping away from the pillar and drawing his sword. His other hand is fisted at his side, but his voice is calm.

“But you haven’t fulfilled your part yet, Silver Prince,” Nahteran says. “Where is she?”

“Ah.”

I can’t see the Silver Prince’s face, but I’d bet anything he’s smiling that Cheshire cat smile that I fell for so many times before. He turns back and kneels down next to the opening, the transparent doorway frothing and hissing around him. Reaching down into it, his hand disappears into the