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In the centre of the room stood Aster, with Torran’s arm around his neck. I reached again for the Ash’s power, determined to see how powerful the Ash’s magic really was and use it on Torran next, but there was nothing left inside me.

The room tilted sideways and…

Nothingness, and not the type I liked.

Then… talons circled my body, and I was being lifted. Up and away from him. My stomach twisted as the talons tightened and sharp claws dug into soft skin as the Ash sped up. My vision clouded and then blacked out.

But then I was back again, burning hot.

Then freezing cold.

My whole back blazed with sharp, agonising pain, needling deep into my skin as the WingMark took hold. The silver feather etched on my shoulder was finally taking what it wanted.

I was one of them now. The Fates don’t let you walk away. No matter how fast you run.

Where are we going? Did I say that out loud?

To safety, young one. Her voice was soft and lyrical. Almost comforting.

I could talk to her now? Will I die?

You’ve waited a long time to bond.

A loud crackling sound came from beside us, and my eyes opened again. The night sky was flaming red and burning blue. It wasn’t like a sunrise or a sunset; it was something else… It was on fire. The very sky we flew through was burning.

Is that… Rebirth?

Yes, Aliwen. I had never told her my name. Your bonding has set right a small imbalance. So some phoenixes have been reborn.

The curse is broken? Did I do it? Did I break the curse?

There was never a curse. Only a wound. Your kings called what was happening to the phoenixes a curse because the truth was they did this to us. They tried to control the Skyworld by making our Riders take blood oaths to them, stopping women from flying, and so Skyworld became imbalanced.

My head swam, and I tried to grip onto what she was saying, but my teeth were chattering, and ice clung to my eyelashes, even as sweat dripped from my brow.

There was never a curse. The truth shuddered through me, and all I wanted to do was tell Aster. Ask him if he had known or perhaps suspected. Just as he had guessed that the feather tattoo on my shoulder was the beginning of a WingMark… Instead, I closed my eyes.

My final thought before the fever took me wasn’t of our lands or the kings that had to die or the revenge I had promised myself a decade ago.

It was Aster, and the pain flashing across his face when I said goodbye.

Epilogue

Torran

Snow-filled wind whipped around the vast Perching Platform and shuddered the pillars, but I hadn’t felt the cold in a long time.

“Where’s it taking her?” Aster yelled at me, fists clenched. He was expecting answers—just as they all did. His body was rigid, and his cheeks flushed. The vein on the side of his neck pulsed. “Tor! Where’s it fucking taking her?” He swept back in the direction that the phoenix had flown a few minutes ago, but not before I caught the dampness in his eye. The utter ruin written in every crease on his brow.

He loved her.

He always had.

And now he would never touch her again.

When Aster wasn’t Chosen in the mountain cave, we thought the Fates had been cruel. But it wasn’t long before we all understood his lucky escape. It was only after being Chosen that the lies we were fed in the name of patriotism became clear. That the Kingdom War was coming, and we would be merely another order to carry out.

He hadn’t had to make a blood oath to his King, but somehow, he found chains anyway. He joined the Shadows and took another oath, made other promises, and even when he was free of his King’s grip, he kept every promise he had ever made.