Wildfire Phoenix by Zoe Chant

Chapter 27

Blaise’s last, lingering doubt dissolved as her dad stepped out of the car. She’d feared things would be different between them now that their animals were no longer linked. But those calm, clear eyes met hers, and his mouth lifted in that slight smile, and he was still her dad, just as he’d always been.

She hugged him, the knot in her throat melting away. His arms tightened around her in return, holding her close.

“I felt what you did,” he murmured in her ear. He broke away to search her face. “Is all well?”

“Yes.” She looked across at Zephyr, who’d been pulled into a bear-hug by her mom. The mate bond glowed in her heart like a star. “It is now.”

“Sir.” Zephyr extracted himself from her mom—not without difficulty—and extended a hand to Ash. “I suppose it’s a little late, but I’d ask for your blessing anyway.”

“You have my daughter’s heart. That is all you need.” Ash gripped Zephyr’s hand, looking him straight in the eye. “I know what she has sacrificed for you. Be worthy of it.”

“I can’t.” Zephyr held Ash’s gaze steadily. “No one could. But I will try, with every breath, for the rest of my life.”

Ash’s chin dipped in a slight nod. His fingers tightened on Zephyr’s for a moment, then let go. “All is in readiness?”

“Yes.” Zephyr glanced over at Buck, who was waiting a little way off with most of the rest of A-squad. “You’ll have to wait here, Uncle.”

Buck grunted. “Still think you’re being way too cautious. Any motherloving bird that tries to take up residence in my head is going to find itself booted out with extreme prejudice.”

“You’re still thunderkin, much as you try to deny it. You can’t be too close when I call the Thunderbird, in case you transform as well.” Zephyr went over to Buck, pulling him into a brief hug. “I might have to be away for a while. The Thunderbird won’t be able to rest until all the horned serpents’ spawning grounds are cleansed. But I’ll return as soon as I can.”

“You’d better,” Buck said, his voice even gruffer than normal. He looked over at Blaise, his eyes suspiciously bright in the faint dawn light. “You keep hold of him, you hear me? Bring him back safe.”

Blaise took Zephyr’s hand, holding on tight. “I will, chief. Promise.”

“We’d better get going,” Zephyr said. “The rest of you will need to be back for the start of the work day. If you’re all still willing to come along?”

“Of course,” Rory replied. He smiled at Blaise. “Not that I expect you’ll need us.”

“The more the merrier,” Blaise said. “In this context, at least.”

“Wystan, Fenrir, and Darcy went on ahead, since they can’t fly,” Callum said. “I can sense they’re nearly at the peak. We should go, if we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Joe looked across at Rory, a challenging gleam in his turquoise eyes. “Race you to the top?”

“Oh no.” Rory held up his hands in refusal. “I know when I’m outclassed. Some of us can’t just ignore gravity.”

“Spoilsport,” Joe said, as beside him Seren transformed into her shark form, hovering in mid-air as though it were water. He clambered onto her slate-gray back, holding onto her dorsal fin. “You want a lift, Zeph?”

Zephyr eyed the floating Great White. “Ah. Thank you, but no. Callum’s already agreed to take me, and I’m more familiar with riding horses.”

Joe shrugged. “Your loss. Hi ho, Silver! Up, up, and away!”

Seren’s black eyes rolled to look back at her mate. A shark’s face wasn’t built for conveying expression, but she managed it anyway.

Joe cleared his throat. “That is, Guardian of the Sea’s Heart, if it pleases you, would you do me the great honor of conveying us to yonder mountain?”

Seren rolled her eyes again, but flicked her tail. She soared effortlessly into the sky, swimming through the brightening dawn.

Callum had already shifted into his pegasus form. He was by no means a small horse, but Zephyr vaulted onto his back with the ease of someone who’d leaned to ride as soon as he could walk.

Zephyr started to lean over to offer Blaise a hand up, then hesitated. “I’ve just realized. You can fly yourself, can’t you?”

Blaise had grown so used to having to suppress her animal, it hadn’t even occurred to her that it would be safe to shift now. She turned inward, looking past the brightness of the mate bond… and recoiled.

Cold, her animal’s voice whispered out of that utter darkness, a scratch of frozen branches on ice. Cold.

She’d never realized that she’d always carried a tiny ember of warmth, hidden in her animal’s heart. Now that part of her was cold, stone cold. Reaching for her animal was like plunging her arm into ice water. Just the thought of wrapping herself in those black, freezing wings made her shiver.

She swallowed, and did her best to smile. “No. I’d rather come with you.”

Zephyr’s gaze lingered on her, black as her animal. For a moment, she thought he was about to say something—but then he nodded, leaning down to offer his hand again.

She scrambled up behind him, with considerably less grace than he’d managed. Callum waited until they were both settled, then spread his flame-red wings. Blaise felt the pegasus’s muscles bunch beneath her—and then they were up, the world dropping away.

She caught a last glimpse of her parents’ upturned faces as Callum circled over the base. The pegasus turned toward Thunder Mountain, beating his wings hard to gain height. Rory’s golden griffin rose after them, Edith clinging to his back. Wingtip to wingtip, they spiraled up, heading for the mountain’s peak.

The wind raked at her, trying to tear her away from Zephyr. Blaise locked her arms around him, pressing against his solid back. She closed her eyes, feeling his steady, reassuring heartbeat; the heat of his body.

Cold. So cold. No fire. No spark.

Hush. She concentrated on the brightness of the mate bond; that pure, beautiful light. She’d traded an ember for a star, and she would never regret that choice. We have our mate. That’s all we need.

No, whispered her animal. It isn’t.

Blaise set her teeth, pushing her treacherous beast back down. No time to argue with the stupid bird now. Callum broke through a layer of low-lying cloud, and the peak of Thunder Mountain rose before them, like an island in the sea.

Seren and Joe were already waiting for them, on a flat, shorn-off outcropping just above the cloud bank. Callum touched down next to them, folding his wings. A moment later, Rory’s claws scraped on the stone as well.

“Brrr.” Edith slid off Rory’s back, wrapping her arms around herself. She huddled against Rory’s furry flank. “I should have worn my winter coat.”

“This won’t take long,” Zephyr said, dismounting from Callum. He turned to help Blaise down. “Not the actual ritual, at least. I don’t want to admit how many hours it took me to climb this far, the first time round.”

Callum shrank into human form. “I can sense the others. They’ll be here in a minute.”

Sure enough, Fenrir and Darcy bounded up a moment later, their fiery eyes burning in the gray dawn. Wystan followed the hellhounds, his horn casting a silvery radiance over them all.

“Candice sends her apologies,” Wystan said as he shifted back to human form. “She would have liked to have been here, but someone had to stay with Estelle. This didn’t seem like a baby-friendly ritual, given the location. She’s keeping Diana and Beth company, since they need to keep away too.”

Joe hunched his shoulders against the constant wind. “So… now what? Are we supposed to, I dunno, sit in a circle and chant?”

Zephyr shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Not unless you really want to.”

“No,” Seren murmured to Joe.

“It feels like we should be doing something,” Edith said. “Are you sure there’s nothing else we can do to help?”

“Just being here is enough.” Zephyr looked around at the squad. “I’m not going to say goodbye.”

Rory shifted, stepping forward. “Neither are we. But we will wish you luck.”

Zephyr clasped the squad leader’s hand. “Sorry in advance for the fires. Unfortunately, it’s the only way to cleanse the land.”

“Will handle the wildfires,” Fenrir said, clapping Zephyr on the shoulder. “Go, Stormheart. Hunt. Pack will be waiting for you, at the end of the trail.”

“Waiting with beer,” Joe added. “And virgin cocktails, of course, for the non-drinkers among us. I’m already planning our end of season party. Don’t you dare miss it, Zeph.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zephyr said, smiling.

Blaise waited while he exchanged handshakes with Wystan and Seren, and brief hugs with Edith and Darcy. Finally, he turned to her. Before he could say anything, she pulled him into a fierce, tight embrace.

“Come back to me,” she whispered in his ear.

His certainty shone down the mate bond, filling her heart with light. “Always.”

She would have held on to him longer, but he stepped back, gently disentangling himself. He lifted her hands to his lips, pressing one last, soft kiss to each one, then released her.

She watched him walk away, striding sure-footed up the slope of the mountain. The light seemed to dim as the distance between them grew, as though the rising sun had reversed direction. Glancing up, she saw storm clouds gathering. They thickened with impossible speed, shrouding the sky.

Thunder growled. She had to close her eyes against a fierce flash of lightning. When she opened them again, bright spots danced across her vision. Zephyr was out of sight now, lost in the unnatural twilight. She could still sense him down the mate bond, climbing steadily toward the peak.

She focused on the bond between them. His heart beat alongside her own. It pulsed faster, now, as he pulled himself up the last expanse of rock. She could feel the burn in his muscles; his fierce exhilaration as he stood upright, opening his arms to the storm.

She heard him call. She felt him tense, waiting, listening.

The storm answered.

The sky split apart. Distantly, Blaise was aware of hands grabbing at her, bodies shielding her as hurricane winds screamed around the peak—but she wasn’t there, with the squad. She was there, at the heart of the storm, at the edge of the world, reaching out to the lightning.

Zephyr jumped.

Storm-cloud wings opened, taking him in. She felt him falling, falling, into a place of thunder and fury, lit only by jagged flashes of lightning. She felt his sudden cold fear, a sense of him turning, trying to reach back to her—

Thunder roared, snatching him away. She couldn’t sense him anymore; couldn’t feel his heartbeat. The mate bond stretched between them, a pale, fragile rope in the darkness of the storm.

The Thunderbird felt that slender chain. It yanked at her, with the blind fury of a hurricane, trying to tear itself free from her grip. She flung all her heart and soul and will into holding on to her mate.

Help me, she called out in desperation—to her animal, her friends, anyone. Help him!

She felt them adding their strength to her own. Rory, Edith, Wystan, Callum, Fenrir, Darcy, Joe, Seren—they were all there, holding on to her as she clung to Zephyr. They anchored her against the storm winds, keeping her grounded.

But they couldn’t hold on to her mate.

Her phoenix could. It was with her, claws tangled in the mate bond, midnight wings beating furiously against the storm—but it was just a shadow. Without fire, it was nothing but smoke and ash, powerless against the elemental force of the Thunderbird.

She felt her grip slip. She felt the bond stretch.

And she felt the moment it broke.