Phoenix

“Phoenix,” Lexia said, wheeling Princess around.

I gasped, pulling in the clean winter air. Smooth leather reins were clutched in my gloved hands.

Lexia’s silver eyes flashed and a sheen of sweat covered her forehead, though the wind blew cold.

“Phoenix,” she said again. “The Darkness was so close a moment ago. I could feel her everywhere. Are you with us?”

This was not the psych ward. This was that other place.

Eloria.

“Yeah,” I said slowly, looking around. “I’m here.”

How was I here again? I was just walking down the hall, going to the common room as I had been told to. I hadn’t fallen asleep. I hadn’t even closed my eyes, but somehow I was here.

Might tossed his head and pranced a few steps. Without thinking, I lowered the reins and dropped my seat, lifting Might onto the bit and bringing him back under my control. I didn’t remember mounting. I didn’t remember how I got here. I took another breath, trying to dispel the disorientation.

“I brought you back,” Lexia explained. She rode slumped in the saddle. Princess picked her way along the frozen, rocky ground with the utmost care. This far down the mountain, there was no snow, but the ground was still frozen hard. I recognized this place. In an hour or so, we would be back to the castle, back where we had started. Lexia stared straight ahead with hooded eyes that seemed to see nothing.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“No,” Eremil said, reining Cinder around. He cantered the mare back to us. “She is not alright. She can barely stay in the saddle.” A jolt of panic rushed through me.

“Should we stop?” I asked her. “Do you need to rest?”

“I will be…” Lexia said, but then had to stop. She swayed and righted herself. “I will be fine,” she insisted. But then her eyes rolled up in her head and she slipped from the saddle. Somehow, Eremil caught her, pulling her limp form across the saddle in front of him.

“What happened?” I asked. Eremil scowled at me as though I should know something I didn’t.

“She spent herself bringing you back,” Eremil growled. “It becomes more and more difficult for her.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. So I rode Might down the mountain, following Cinder, following Princess. Eremil rode one-handed, cradling my sister.

We crossed the fallow fields we journeyed through only a few days before. The castle was visible in the distance, a mass against the empty fields. I watched it for a while, trying to figure out why it seemed so desolate. There was no smoke rising from the castle. No smoke billowing from the surrounding city.

There were no signs of life.

Eremil moved Cinder so the black mare walked beside Might. Lexia slept motionlessly, peacefully, in Eremil’s arms.

Kill her, I heard. There was renewed urgency in the voice.

“Something is wrong,” Eremil said, halting Cinder.

“I know,” I said. “The city is too quiet. Do you think they’re all dead?”

“She wants you so badly,” Lexia murmured, stirring in Eremil’s arms. “How do you bear it?” Her eyes remained closed, and her lips bore the slightest frown as her brow creased. Her face was perfect, like the face of my real sister. My dead sister.

“There,” Eremil said, pointing. “What do you see?”

“Nothing,” I said, looking down the rolling hills toward the castle. But then something glinted in the weak light. Armor. And there was motion, a wave spreading across the horizon, coming toward us. “Soldiers,” I said, the word falling from my lips before the thought fully formed in my brain. “Soldiers are coming, and I don’t think they are coming to help us.”

“Stars above!” Eremil cursed. “She is spent and you are broken. How are we to get through this?” Cinder danced nervously, sensing the tension. Eremil jerked the reins and booted her in the sides. “Quit!” he growled, and the mare settled, snorting white steam.

“What is real, Lexia?” I shouted at her, flipping Might’s reins back and forth over my fingers. “Are you real? Is this real?”

Lexia didn’t respond.

“It is real, my Prince,” Eremil said. The wave roiled on the horizon, horses and elves drawing closer.

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “What are we supposed to do?”

Eremil laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“That is usually what I ask you,” he said quietly. “And usually the answer in a situation like this is that you unleash your magic and protect us with its strength.”

My heart raced. The wave of riders roiled closer.

“Why me?” I finally said. Eremil’s eyes cut into mine and the words dried in my mouth. It seemed wrong to say it, but I couldn’t help it.

“The Darkness knows what you can be,” Eremil said, looking away from me. His eyes cast over the land deep in the grey winter sleep. The words were heavy with meaning, like a blade of grass bending under the weight of a dew drop. He leaned toward me, pushing Lexia into my arms. “It is you who can bond the Scepter she took. I know it in my soul.”

“Eremil, what—“ He cut me off with a smile. He limbered his axes, looking toward the advancing wave of riders. “You can’t fight them all,” I said. “Not even you, Eremil Half-Elf.”

“I can try,” he said. Cinder reared in anticipation. “Skirt the valley,” Eremil said. “Stay as close to the trees as you can. Get out of the open, and head for the river. If I survive—“

“There has to be another way!” I yelled. Might was dancing now too, unable to control the fear and desperation coursing through him.

“No,” Eremil shouted. “But if I live, I will meet you at the river.” Cinder leapt forward, launching herself toward the oncoming riders.

I booted Might into action, running along the tree line as Eremil had instructed me. The horse bounded over the uneven ground, his huge stride carrying us forward. I balanced the best I could, clutching Lexia with my arms, clinging to Might with my legs. Princess galloped alongside until Might outpaced her, going faster and faster. The trees whirred by, a grey-green blur. I kept waiting to hear Eremil. He would join with the elves any second. The sound of blood thundering in my ears, the sound of my own heart pounding, and the sound of Might’s hooves striking the frozen earth drowned out everything. Until it didn’t.

Eremil screamed. It was one full-throated howl that carried with it the death of any hope we had of surviving. And when it was over, the absence of sound battled with my heartbeat in my ears.

“Eremil,” Lexia murmured.

Might plowed on, galloping, leaping, running for all he was worth. Running for our lives. He jerked a little beneath me, and grunted. From the corner of my eye, I saw an archer on horseback draw another arrow. I did not think he would miss again. Then something bit into my shoulder, burning its way in and out of my back before I could scream. Might stumbled, throwing Lexia onto his neck. I scrambled for her as the horse recovered and an arrow tore hair from my scalp as it whizzed by.

“Run, brother!” I shouted. “Run!”

Impossibly, the horse shifted gears, going even faster than before. Every few steps, he stumbled, nearly going down.

“We cannot,” Lexia whispered, gasping before she could continue. “We cannot outrun them, Phoenix. You must use your magic. It is the only way.”

“I can’t!” I shouted.

Magic isn’t real! None of this is real! Thinking it didn’t make my shoulder hurt any less.

“You must,” Lexia said. “There is no other way.”

“I can’t!” I shouted again.

Princess passed into the trees, still running along with us despite being riderless. Furious, I pushed Might to follow her, and the horse lurched forward. An arrow protruded from his rump, bleeding around the shaft. I reached for it, but didn’t know if I should pull it out. Drying blood streamed down my arm. For a few tense moments, we journeyed in silence, the horse carrying us silently into the forest. When I was sure there was no pursuit, I pulled Might up.

“We must move,” Lexia said. “Put me on my horse.” I didn’t know if she was strong enough, but Princess walked calmly over and waited for her rider. I set Lexia on her back. Princess moved away.

“Might is hurt,” I said. “I don’t know if he can keep going.”

“He will go, or he will die,” Lexia said coldly. Might limped into the forest after her.

“We can’t just go,” I said. “What about Eremil? Shouldn’t we wait for him or go back or…?”

Lexia ignored me. Princess moved silently into the trees.

“We can’t just go!” I shouted. I wanted to pull Might up, to turn him around and go back. But he limped steadily forward, valiantly following the red mare. I did not have the heart to try to stop him. “Do you hear me?” I yelled at Lexia. “We can’t just go!”

“His horse is dead,” she said, turning halfway round to look at me.

“So?” I snapped. The reins felt heavy in my fingers. I knew what she was saying.

“They are not thinking about him anymore,” she said quietly. “What is left of those elves, they are not thinking of fighting him. Eremil would not surrender. We both know that. Even as you are, you know that.”

“We need to go back!” I shouted. My voice tore the cold air, and Lexia ignored me. We kept moving.

“He is dead,” Lexia finally said. Her distant voice sounded empty, like a piece of her was missing. It was lonely in the empty forest, as though only we two were left in the whole world. The horses’ hooves made hollow sounds against the leaf-covered frozen ground.

My eyes burned and fingers of fiery pain clutched at my throat. Eremil. Dead. It could not be so.

“Why is this happening?” I asked. “Why is any of this happening?”

“It is simple,” Lexia said. “This is happening because the Darkness loves you.”

“She loves me?” I asked. I booted Might faster before I remembered that he was hurt. He obediently trotted up beside Princess now that the trail was wider, limping every second step. “She burned me because she loves me? She’s in my head, telling me this horrible story—that I killed you and it made me crazy—because she loves me?”

“Being around her,” Lexia said, taking up where she left off. “You never knew what you were capable of until she asked you to do it. You never knew how strong you were, how much you could achieve. But she did. She always did. She taught us to be strong and capable. And now the Darkness targets you because you are the strongest of us. You are the only one of us who can fight her.”

“That’s not true,” I said. “You’re fighting her. You come to me in the real world. You’re the only reason I haven’t given up yet.” It was true, but I didn’t realize it until I said it.

“It weakens me to fight her,” Lexia admitted. “It weakens me to follow you into that fantasy. Where your magic feeds life and power into you, my magic drains and weakens me. I am tired, Phoenix.”

I shivered a little. She said she was tired, but I knew it wasn’t the kind of tired you could just sleep and recover from. It was the kind of tired that when you finally laid down, when you finally submitted to the exhaustion and tried to rest, you died.

We rode on in silence, putting miles between us and the field where Eremil. . . Might carried me stalwartly, the arrow quivering with every step. Eventually, we reached the river.

Lexia stared off toward the horizon. The gray sky shifted gently, darkening as though light had never truly touched it. Dawn had come late, but the sun was already sinking. The sky shone in Lexia’s silver eyes.

“We should make camp, and cross at first light,” Lexia said. She fell more than dismounted and made it as far as a fallen log before her legs buckled. I dismounted Might, careful to avoid the arrow protruding from his shoulder.

“Should I pull it out?” I asked Lexia. It didn’t seem to be bleeding any more, but it couldn’t be good, stuck like that.

“If you remove the arrow,” she said, “you risk laming him further.” She spoke of making camp, but she slumped against the log. I thought she might fall asleep right there.

“If I don’t take it out, won’t he die?” I asked, fingering the shaft. Might’s shoulder twitched and he eyed me. “Infection or something?”

“It may become infected either way,” she said. “If you leave it, at least you will get another couple days out of him before he passes.” It hurt that she said this so coldly, but I knew she was right. Somewhere, in that other life I couldn’t quite remember, I knew she was right.

Kill her, that voice in my head urged. Maybe it was Dr. Bank’s voice, reaching out to me in this world just as Lexia’s voice reached out to me in the real world. I ignored it.

“Cut short the shaft and poultice the wound,” she said. “And your shoulder as well.”

I had nearly forgotten my own wound, but as soon as she mentioned it, it throbbed.

Our breath curled in wisps that trailed behind us. My eyes followed the wisps, searching for Eremil coming behind us. Lexia said he was dead, but I couldn’t accept that. Not yet.

“You need to get something to eat,” Lexia said.

“Yeah,” I scoffed. “Let’s just pull over and stop at Wendy’s.”

“You should still have something left in your saddle bags,” Lexia said.

I reached backward and pulled the flap open, rummaging through all sorts of random things until my fingers found a packet of waxy paper. I pulled it out and looked at it. It was roughly square, about as thick as a half deck of cards. I sniffed it.

Gingerbread, I thought, tasting it. Until I took that bite, I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I devoured it, thinking longingly of the feasts at the castle.

Wake up, Phoenix! I told myself. This isn’t home. I thought of home, of the white brick rambler and the acres of grass that sloped down to the horse corral. That was home. A place where Pete and I played cards and video games. And basketball.

Pete.

“What about Eremil?” I finally asked. “Why was he with us? Why didn’t he turn against us like everyone else who tried to kill us? Did the Darkness want him too? He’s there, in the real world, but it’s not him. He’s my buddy Pete, there. But it’s him and not him. Does that make sense?”

“Eremil,” Lexia sighed. The word was almost a sob. “Eremil was half-human.”

“So?” I asked. “Everybody made a big deal of that. What does him being half-human have to do with anything?”

“The Darkness could not see into his heart,” Lexia said. “Or his head. She could not control him. That is why she killed the humans first.”

“What about you?” I asked. “What does she want with you?”

Kill her.

Lexia’s eyes locked onto mine and she nodded, seeming to hear what I thought was only in my head.

“I do not trust her,” Lexia said. “Not in the slightest. I have not forgotten her. She turned away from being the person I once knew, but I cannot stop myself from loving her. Even now with her seething for my blood. Even though she took Eremil. I miss her so much.”

Do it now, the voice urged. The words, the voice, all fell into place then, the reason why the sound was so familiar. It was my mother speaking to me. The Darkness.

I fiddled with my reins. The realization was uncomfortable. Might’s ear flicked back as he limped along, waiting for a command. The wind breezed in, cold with the promise of greater cold.

“So...that other place...is it a dream?” I said, changing the subject and hesitating when I wanted to call it reality. To her it wasn’t reality. To me, with the chill air on my skin and the sinking sun in my eyes, reality seemed far away. The horses’ hooves thumped hollowly on the ground. There was no other sound, like every bird and creature had gone silent except for the horses.

“Yes,” Lexia said. “Of course that other place is a dream. This is reality.” Her voice was so matter-of-fact. It was as though she thought I accepted that as fact as she did. She pulled her hood up against the wind, which now bit into us. “She takes you there, and I bring you back. The Darkness used to be the strongest when you slept,” Lexia explained. She looked down at her fingers holding the reins. “As the strength of the Darkness’s deception grows, you slip away, even waking.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I’m awake right now? You mean, I just, what, disappeared from reality?” This time I made no effort to soften the implication that this world was the false one.

Lexia nodded.

“Your body continues doing what it must, but your mind goes,” she said. “You were running with us when you left, but you did not fall or stop.“

“But if she wants my power, why doesn’t she just possess my body like she did with Lucius?” I asked. Saying his name stabbed pain through me, though it paled in comparison to the loss of Eremil.

I wondered what my body in the real world was doing right now. Was it heading back to the common room? Was it sitting on the couch? Was it in a session? I imagined myself sitting completely non-responsive. That would be a great way to get them to keep me in the psych ward. Forever. Or maybe the Darkness would take over my body there too. Would she act as crazy as I did?

“I’ve got to get back there,” I said. I had to shout over the wind now. “Can you send me back?”

“No,” Lexia said. Her mouth drew into a line, her eyes hardening. Platinum strands of hair swirled around her head. “We need you here.”

“For what?” I said.

“To fight the Darkness,” she said.

“But what am I doing to fight it?” I said. I hunched forward in my saddle. What I wouldn’t give for Gore-tex right now. I would have taken just about anything to cut the wind. “You don’t need me. I don’t know what I’m doing anyway. I’m pretty much useless. And that Scepter, the one that’s not even in this world anymore? How can I help with that here?”

Lexia’s eyes reproached me far better than she could have with words, but she opened her mouth to speak anyway. In mid-breath, right before she cussed me out, those silver eyes flew wide and she looked back over her shoulder.

“Run,” she breathed. Princess must have felt her alarm. I saw muscles gathering beneath the mare’s red coat. Her head came up and her feet danced.

“What is it?” I asked.

“RUN!” Lexia screamed. Princess bolted, carrying Lexia away. Might reared, his white forefoot striking for the rapidly darkening sky. Something in me knew how to ride this. I leaned forward.

Might ran, catching Princess though she streaked ahead.

“What are we running from?” I yelled above the wind and the thunder of the horses’ hooves.

“Can you not feel it?” Lexia shouted. She leaned over Princess’s neck and the mare pulled ahead, strong haunches propelling her forward.

Something was coming. I could feel it. Something pushed forward with the cold wind. Something icy and malicious. I didn’t know how I could know such a thing, but it clutched around my heart with such certainty as I had never known in the real world.

Something was coming.

The horses raced each other and the failing light against the evil behind us. Great puffs of hot breath swirled away into the sky. I stole a glance behind us.

There was nothing there, nothing that I could see. But terror tingled through my body. And then, in the waning light, I saw a reddish cloud, moving against the wind.

“What is that?” I yelled.

Lexia half turned to me. Icy wind washed over us, carrying with it a sound that should have been soft, but wasn’t. It sounded like a whisper as loud as a scream. It sounded like metal rubbing against metal, vibrating and clashing.

“Spiders,” Lexia yelled.

“What?” I said. “Spiders can’t fly. And it’s too cold for spiders.”

I stole another look over my shoulder. The cloud swirled closer. I imagined thousands of legs running up and down my back. Their touch would be light and whispery, their movement rapid and marked by hesitation.

I kicked Might and he ran harder, great puffs of breath streaming from his nose and streaming back to roll over me.

“What do we do?” I yelled.

“Burn them!” Lexia shouted. “You have got to burn them. It is the only way.”

I swallowed hard.

I can’t burn them, I thought. What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can say, “Flame on!” or something like that. Can I?

“Flame on,” I said, looking at my fingers. Nothing happened, of course.

“They are getting closer,” Lexia shouted. “The river!” Lexia hauled Princess left. “It is our only hope.”

That sound drowned out the pounding of the horses’ hooves. A clicking, slithering, grinding roar filled my ears. That sound was the sound of millions of spiders milling over one another as they flew. Hungry flying spiders.

Lexia looked at me, and then back at the rapidly advancing red and brown cloud.

“If we don’t make it,” I began.

“We will make it,” she said, reaching forward to smack Might’s rump with her hand. He shot forward, almost unseating me.

The ground blurred beneath us. The trees turned into scrubby willows and winter barren prickly olive. The water was close. But the red brown cloud of spiders was closer. They descended on us with their millions of legs. A haze of red-brown spider bodies fell around me, around Might. My skin prickled and legs scurried through my hair.

I screamed. The spiders were tiny, like ants. Miniscule legs scurried into every crevice. I swatted at them, sweeping them from my arms, brushing them from Might’s neck. I convulsively grabbed at my head, my face, my arms. Their cold bodies crunched under my hands. My arms flailed, trying to clean them off. There were too many.

A splash up ahead told me that Lexia made it into the water.

“Run, Brother!” I yelled. Might was moving fast, but he shifted into that gear and I fought to hold on. Spiders crawled down the neck of my sweater, pouring between my shoulder blades like whispering blades of cut grass.

Then they started biting.

It felt like my skin was being crushed. Tears leaked from my eyes, dripping spiders down my face. We had to be close to the water now. It would only be seconds before the spiders were drowned.

Might stumbled, but recovered quickly. The spiders feasted on him too. I reached forward, my vision swimming, and brushed a hand down his neck; bright red blood, iron-rich, slicked my hand. The smell of his blood, heavy and wet, saturated the air and seemed to drive the spiders crazy. They fell from me in rolling waves, congregating on the horse, covering him in a mass of many-legged bodies that moved as one. The blood smell grew stronger. Might stumbled again, but this time, he didn’t recover. It was an instant, but everything seemed to slow down so that I saw it all with perfect, horrible clarity. The river spewed steam in the air just ahead, the dark swirling waters churned by the other horse that made it before us. I pitched over Might’s head before Might went head over tail, his huge body flying over mine into the dark water.

And then...

“What happened!?” the voice was frantic. It belonged to Ellie, the round nurse. Was she touching me? Did she grab my arm? All I felt was cold.

“Get over here!” the nurse screamed. Her eyes were so wide I wondered why they didn’t fall out of her face. “He’s soaking wet and covered in—in!”

She couldn’t finish what she was shouting. Maybe she didn’t know what to say. Loud running footsteps bounced around inside my head before two burly orderlies appeared.

Might. My good horse.

“Holy crap!” one of them said. “What happened to him?”

“Spiders!” I shrieked, heaving. The nurse fell back.

“Phoenix!” the nurse said, her strong hands held my shoulders to the floor. A burning prick bit into my thigh. “Phoenix, what happened?”

“I should have burned them,” I said.

“He was in my office two minutes ago,” Dr. Banks said. Her face peered down at me, not nearly as concerned as the others. It kind of looked like she was trying not to laugh.

That was weird.

“Are those bites?” Dr. Banks asked. The nurse gave her an exasperated look.

“Spiders!” I yelled again. I could still feel them on my skin. Skittering, crawling, stopping, and running. “They killed my horse!”

“Get a doctor up here, now!” the nurse yelled.

Dr. Banks tilted her head to the side, a strange grin tingeing her lips.

“I don’t think I’ve seen one go this crazy,” she said.

“Alice!” the nurse chided. “He’s still awake.”

“No he’s not,” Dr. Banks said. It sounded like her voice was coming from the end of a tunnel. Just like the light around me.