“Worse?” A humorless laugh escapes me. “How could it be worse? My brother stole my wife. He took her magic. He…” My voice falters, snagging in my throat.
“We know,” Reeve says. “But if you want her back alive, you need to think clearly.”
“I am thinking clearly.” I turn away from them and brace my hands on the mantle. “I’m thinking about how I’m going to tear him apart piece by piece.”
“Jasce—”
“—don’t.” I dig my fingers into the stone, imagining it’s Aleksander’s face. “Don’t try to talk me down. Not about this. Not about her.”
My brothers know me well enough to recognize when words are useless. But they don’t understand how it feels to have her ripped away—to know she’s with him, to imagine what he might be doing to her.
“I’m getting her back,” I say, my tone low and determined. “And if I have to burn all of Bakva to do it, I will.”
Neither of them argues with me. They know better. Because this isn’t about politics or power or even family anymore.
This is about Annora, and I will do whatever it takes to bring her home.
Chapter Four
Annora
The hemof my cotehardie whirls around my legs as I pace back and forth in my bedchamber, the book about crimson magic clutched tightly to my chest. I pause and frantically flip through the book, scanning for any hint of how to summon the Phoenix, but page after frustrating page reveals nothing but basic fire manipulation techniques I already know.
A sigh escapes me as I close my eyes and try to picture the majestic creature. “I need your help.”
Harder and harder, my heart pounds, but nothing happens. No flash of crimson light. No surge of warmth. Not even a spark of the power I know lurks inside me.
I slam the useless book shut and hurl it onto my bed.
Why is this happening to me?
I just want to be with Jasce.
The truth settles over me as I clench my jaw. The only way I’m going to return to him is if I refuse to let Aleksander win. But I cannot—will not—allow him to hurt my sister. So, if summoning the Phoenix is the only way to protect her, then so be it.
I retrieve the book and flip to the sketch of the Phoenix, then trace my fingers over the lines. The image flutters, as if yearning to break free from the page.
“What am I doing wrong? Why won’t you answer me?”
I try again, this time focusing all my energy on the sketch, but nothing happens again.
You can do this.
Determined, I run my finger against the sketch again. “I know you’re here. I need your help. Will you help me?Please.”
A soft, golden light emits from the sketch. I gasp as the light intensifies, filling the room as the Phoenix emerges from the pages. The creature stands smaller than a horse, its feathers shimmering in a dazzling blend of crimson and gold. As its eyes catch the light, they reveal the most beautiful amber hue I have ever seen.
She spreads her wings and regards me with a steady gaze. “You called for me.”
Relief floods through me, happiness at finally having figured it out. “I need your help.”
“What do you need me to do?”
That’s a fantastic question. Aleksander is the one who wanted me to summon the Phoenix, and he didn’t share his reason with me.
“What should I call you?” I ask instead.
“I am Emberdione.”
