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Phoenix in Shadow by Ryk E Spoor

Phoenix in Shadow by Ryk E Spoor

Author:Ryk E Spoor [Spoor, Ryk E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, Fantasy, General, Epic, Fairy Tales; Folk Tales; Legends & Mythology
ISBN: 9781476780375
Google: _oHtoAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1476780374
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2015-05-05T04:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 28

Miri stepped into her guestroom at the Reflect’s mansion and closed the door, leaning against it heavily. I’m shaking! Shaking like a terrified human!

Her current body was human, in a way . . . but in all the centuries she’d been in such bodies, she’d never had such a reaction. Miri held her arm up in front of her, watched the trembling of the delicate hand, the imprecision of its movements, with stunned fascination; it took twice as long as normal to set the wards and seals of privacy.

In a way, she could understand it. So many shocks, one after another. First, stepping into that cabin and seeing the true power of a god unleashed—through the constant oppressive interference of Moonshade Hollow which impeded even her kind—and the incredible, heart-wrenching beauty of that power and the Phoenix, tearing her own soul and the voluntarily offered souls of the others so she could patch together the shredded, dying spirits of two children, and beyond. Though Phoenix had not realized it, her power had flowed even beyond the two most wounded, touched upon Hamule and bound her wounded spirit just a touch, eased the pain and memories for all five.

Miri found a wondering smile on her face at the thought, then banished that expression with shock and panic.

It didn’t hurt. Why didn’t it hurt?

But that question hadn’t occurred to her right away. She had been uplifted, confident, and helped Phoenix to rise. It was agreed by all three—herself, Phoenix, and Tobimar—that the master itrichel had to be dealt with immediately, and that it had to be in the Reflect’s household.

And they’d been right; Nimelly, his Head of House, had been the host of the creature. Once she realized she was cornered, she had fled, with the three of them in close pursuit. Tobimar had outdistanced them for a few moments and brought the itrichel to bay . . .

And that was the second terrible shock.

Tobimar had faced the itrichel-Nimelly with a serene face, a transcendent look in his eyes, twin swords held parallel before him, and she knew that pose, that stance, remembered the terrible gray-eyed calm that had advanced through the armies of Kerlamion as though the demons were blades of grass before his vengeful hurricane, in the days after the Fall. That Art is not lost, and does that mean that . . . He . . . is returning?

She had stumbled, but somehow—though the terror was nigh-overwhelming—caught herself, regained control, only for yet another shock to overtake her.

For the itrichel had snarled, “How do you resist?” as her blade rang against Tobimar’s.

“Yield and you may learn. Fight and you will die,” Tobimar had said bluntly. “For my companions are here.”

Nimelly then leapt back, with an agility far beyond human, and came on guard, watching all three. She smiled. “But are they companions you can trust?” she had asked . . . and for a moment the narrowed eyes had flickered yellow-green, looking directly at Miri.

It knows what I



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