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KOLE

My face burns, but I can’t turn away. The flames dance higher and higher, stretching from the basin of the fountain up toward the ever-darkening sky.

I’m aware of Eve and Ragnor shouting at one another. She’s waving her arms, he’s putting his hands on her shoulders and shaking her, but I can’t bring myself to look at them.

All I can see is Nova. Her arm hanging over the edge of the fountain. Her face when she said goodbye. But she is no longer there.

Devoured by flame.

She is leaving me. Leaving us. With every flicker of the bright orange fire, she slips further away. My chest tightens and my gut twists violently. I lurch forward and grab the nearest tree so I don’t fall to my knees. What if I was wrong? What if she doesn’t come back? What if I just sent the woman I love to her death?

* * *

The moon is high in the sky by the time the flames die down. I am still holding onto the large oak tree beside me. It feels my pain. Thin, winding branches have wrapped themselves around my arm, holding me upright. The oak’s heartbeat matches my own. Only earth mages feel the rhythm of the trees. Usually it is comforting. Now, here, it brings no solace; just a reminder that I am still breathing, and Nova is not. Despite the hours that have passed, she is still not here. She has not risen. She did not stand and walk through the flames back into my arms.

The Phoenix has not returned.

A crowd has gathered around the fountain. Werewolves in their human form stand, salivating over what is happening before them.

It took Ragnor and Eve only seconds to turn their confusion at what was happening into victory. “We did it, Ragnor,” she cooed. “We did what he asked. We captured The Phoenix. We bottled her blood, and now…” She turned and splayed her arms out to her sides, “she is no more.”

“We should put them out,” Ragnor replied, his dark eyes reflecting the dance of Nova’s final flames.

“No.” Eve hugged herself, smiling. “Let the witch burn.”

Finally the flames seem to be putting themselves out. Stopping their relentless attack on Nova’s beautiful body. Leaving her in peace. Ragnor claps his hands and calls for silence. He strides toward the fountain. As he draws nearer, blood rushes to my ears and throbs in my veins. The thought of him touching her brings white-hot bile to the back of my throat. I swallow it down. At the same time, I try to squash the magick inside me; I want to rip up the ground beneath Ragnor’s feet. I want to hang him upside down from the oak above my head and choke the life from his sick, ruthless body with my bare hands.

He grips the rim of the basin and peers down into it. I can barely breathe. I want to see her, but I’m not sure if I can. This part, I’m not sure if I can watch.

For several long, quivering moments, Ragnor is still. His shoulders rise and fall with the movement of his breath. I narrow my eyes and tug my arm free from the branch that has been holding me up; I need to get closer.

Stepping sideways, I move into the shadow just inside the treeline. Still out of sight, but only just. Ragnor dips a hand into the fountain, then rights himself slowly. Eve is watching him too, ticking her head from side to side and bobbing on the soles of her feet as if she can barely stand the anticipation.

“Ragnor?” she asks when he turns to face her.

Everyone else is silent. Ragnor looks down at his closed hand, then a smile twitches his lips. It stretches across his face. Eyes sparkling, he raises his fist. When he opens it, ashes fall to the ground.

“She’s gone,” he barks loudly. “The Phoenix is no more!” He looks up at the moon and raises his hands toward it as if he is praying. “In five days’ time, when the moon is full, we will use the Phoenix’s blood to raise The Shadow King.” His voice grows darker and louder. “We will end humanity! Supers will reign supreme! We. Will. Rule!”

Cheers break out. The werewolves start baying and howling, even though they’re still in their human forms. Ragnor throws what’s left in his hand up into the air and I watch as Nova’s ashes catch in the moonlight.

I want to lunge for them, gather them, save them, save her.

But they drift away on a breeze I didn’t even know was there; Nova drifts away from me.

“Time to celebrate!” Ragnor puts his arm around Eve, but she breaks away and starts dancing. She pulls him with her. He refuses to dance but allows her to skip circles around him while the others continue to shout and cheer.

I fall to my knees. My chest swells as if it’s going to break open. I can barely breathe. I scrape my fingers through my hair and look back at the fountain. “She was supposed to come back,” I whisper, digging my fingernails into the cold earth beneath me. “She can’t be gone… she was supposed to come back.”

Nova… I search for her with my voice. If she’s out there, and she can hear me, she’ll let me know. She’ll find a way to reach me. Nova, Little Star, please… don’t leave me.

I glance back into the darkness of the woods. It is the first time I have taken my eyes from the fountain since Nova left my side, but all I can think of now is the others. Are they waiting or did they return to the lake? Did they see the smoke? Are they comforting one another at this very moment, whispering to each other that it will all be okay because I promised it would be?

I look back when I realize the noise around the fountain has quietened. Everyone is staring at the house. On the steps, a figure has appeared. A woman dressed in white with long, black hair and a willowy frame. As she descends, eyes fixed on Ragnor, I notice her feet are bare. She is so fragile; she looks like she might snap at any moment.

When Ragnor opens his arms and smiles at her, I realize who she is. I am staring at Sam’s mother, Elena—the woman Ragnor loved so much he would destroy the world to bring her back.