Phoenix13: Redemption (Phoenix13 Book 2)

Part #7: The Judgement of Zephyr: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Deyanira's pace was swift. Her silk-wrapped feet glided over the marble tiles of Amaranth's well-worn streets. She seemed impatient, fingers twitching against the folds of her satin dress. "Zephyr, the High Council has no time for leisureliness. I suggest we do not inconvenience them with your continued absence."

Zephyr, who Kalligan had been shadowing closely since his arrival in Amaranth, fell into step beside the flame-haired goddess. Kalligan noted how Zephyr's gaze seemed permanently fixed on Deyanira, never once wavering in its intensity. A hawk watching a deadly snake.

"How much further is it?" Zephyr asked, breathlessness blurring his words.

Kalligan saw Deyanira's lips twist upwards. "Patience, Godling. We are nearly there."

Up ahead a building of elegantly carved marble loomed, intimidating and beautiful in equal measure. A high-ceilinged dome of sparkling stone rose above two shimmering silver-gilded doors adorned with enormous polished knockers in the shape of wolfs' heads. A plaque above the entrance spelled out 'Akana Iotan nok Amaranth' in Àmandinian runes; Kalligan quickly translated it to 'The Heart of Eternity.' The city's place of council, where laws were made and decisions debated. The home of the High Council.

"Your father will be waiting," Deyanira said. She climbed the steps to the council house in a few long strides, gripping the left knocker tightly in both hands. The door opened easily under her firm touch. It glided open to reveal a circular room. "The Council has already assembled."

Kalligan heard Zephyr gasp even as he himself let out a sharp exhale of astonishment. Beyond Deyanira were rows upon rows of humanoids arranged in staggered half-circles around the room's center, where a tall, handsome middle-aged man stood in statuesque silence. At his side was a beautiful young woman with creamy skin and long, sleek, raven hair. Her eyes were deep gold, full of swirling intelligence, while the fabrics she wore across her chest and waist were of the darkest black silk.

"Nythria," Deyanira greeted the woman first. "It's been too long."

"Deyanira." Nythria tilted her head slightly. "Is he ready for his Reading?"

Zephyr hovered behind Deyanira, picking at his leather belt and tracing an empty dagger sheath with one finger. The answer to Nythria's question was obvious in his fluctuating expressions of fear and excitement.

"Lord Arknen." Deyanira turned to the man, tapping her fist twice over her heart before splaying it flat against her chest, "does the First Lord not wish to preside over this most famous of ceremonies?"

Lord Arknen shook his head. "My father has agreed to allow me the privilege, as he is otherwise occupied. It is a great honor being bestowed this day. As Zephyr is of my blood, I find it suiting that I should be the one to bestow it."

Zephyr moved past Deyanira and knelt on the marble before Nythria and Arknen. "I am grateful for this honor, father. I can't ever thank you enough."

Kalligan felt his heart stop in his chest. He gasped and it restarted in a burst of shock and disbelief. My father was the Second Lord of Amaranth? I was third in line to rule the immortals?

"You can start by rising, my son." Arknen's face twitched into a half-smile. As he looked down at Zephyr, there was soul-deep fondness in his eyes. "You never need to be on your knees in my presence. Save it for your grandfather. He is the one who appreciates such displays of humility."

The assembly gave an appreciative titter. The tension hanging like a sharpened blade above their heads grew less. It occurred to Kalligan that whoever the First Lord of Amaranth was, he must be both respected and merciful for his council to feel comfortable teasing him outside his presence.