Scorched (Phoenix Chronicles Book 2)

Chapter 11: The Fog

Phoenix tightened the gag on the woman with the banshee's cry. After a night of rest for the wounded to allow their healing bodies to recover, they'd reassessed their prisoners' bindings before heading out.

Trey kept close to Phoenix when she wasn't near the banshee woman. He skirted around camp all wide-eyes and fidgeting fingers, and a few times, when the woman they'd captured fixed her stare on him, snowflakes began to fall. 

The banshee woman lunged at Phoenix, bashing her head against Phoenix's. With a grunt, Phoenix jerked back.

"Watch it," Roman said, eyeing the banshee woman with a glower. "She's keeping you alive here - the rest of us might have a different opinion."

"Hear, hear," Victor said, jaw clenched. "It's because of her that Frieda is dead." 

"It's because of Frieda that Frieda is dead," Finny snapped, gathering up her things. "Now let's get a move on. The Militia awaits, and we haven't much time. We want to make as much progress before the sun goes down as we can."

"Youlden, would you be willing to keep an eye on our guest?" Maverick gestured to the woman, who still hadn't given her name. She'd only scream if they took her gag off.

"Trey," Phoenix moved to his side, kneeling down to speak into his ear, "I want you to stay close to Abigail - away from that woman. If anything happens just remember to stay calm. I'll keep you safe. Can you promise me you'll try to stay calm?"

Trey nodded.

"Good." Phoenix glanced over her shoulder and then back at Trey. "I'm going to tell my brother what you can do if that's all right with you. I think he should know. What do you say?"

Trey shifted his weight to see around her, his little mouth pursing as he considered Maverick. "But you don't want me to tell anyone else?"

"No, not yet. Not until we know you're safe."

Trey nodded. "That's what she always used to say."

Phoenix frowned. "She?"

"The woman at the orphanage. She said we shouldn't tell anyone - that it wouldn't be safe." Trey held up his gloved hands. "She gave me these and told me to keep them on."

Phoenix stared at Trey's covered fingers, something dawning deep inside. "Can I see? Just really quick?"

Trey dropped his hands and tugged on one glove with the other, revealing the bronze skin beneath. Phoenix stopped him before he removed the glove completely - just a glimpse of the back of his hand was enough.

Silvery gray lines lined the skin, bright and vibrant. Phoenix tugged the glove back into place, forcing a smile to give Trey comfort. "I have those, too, you know. So does Youlden."

"I see yours," Trey said, pointing to Phoenix's exposed arms. "They're different colors."

"Do you only have the one color?" Phoenix asked. Trey nodded. "Well I think it's amazing. Go on - go stand with Abigail. Finny's not going to be pleased if we don't get a move on."

Trey's mouth upturned in a smile, and he scampered off to Abigail's side.

"Use your feet you mongrels!" Finny shouted at the prisoners. "Move before I make you in a very unpleasant way."

They walked with Roman, Youlden, Victor and Finny guarding the prisoners. Noelle, now that the snow had stopped and she'd had a warm night next to the fire, marched on without trouble. Chuck stayed near her, his face going doughy anytime she answered any of his questions.