Page 12 of Phoenix Chosen 3

It leaps towards us like a striking serpent, and I shove Tyler aside just in time. It returns to Praxis’s hand, and to my shock, he slowly turns his head and glares at me.

“I was told you would be able to do that,” he says. “You know, so much is starting to make sense. I always wondered how the hell you were able to pull off some of the heists you did.”

Praxis grits his fangs and strains to move his body to face me. He’s fighting to regain control of his body, to get outside of my hold on time. It should be impossible. Only another Phoenikos should have the potential to break through my ability.

Sweat streaks down my forehead into my eyes. I’m not strong enough to hold this.

“How…?” I say.

“Another gift from Lord Umbrios,” he replies with an arrogant smirk.

The cord of time tears out of my grip. My energy is sapped. Praxis doesn’t hesitate, he lunges into an attack, shadow-wreathed claws poised to strike my face. I evade, but when I try to repost, I can barely summon more than a weak flame immediately consumed by his shadow gauntlet.

I will not back down.

He comes at me again and swings for a strike. I surround my arm in fiery plumage and block his attack. Praxis leans intoit, pressing his forearm against mine. His breath is as foul as I remember.

My flames waver. Cold spreads across my skin, and I realize the shadow has begun to wrap around my arm.

“Get the fuck off of him, you son of abitch!” Tyler shouts.

A light as bright as the afternoon sun explodes out of him in a dazzling flash. Praxis stumbles back against the stone plinth, his arm held up across his eyes. The archer hisses and flees but runs flat into a wall, blinded by the sudden light.

Tyler blinks and stares at his hands. He looks just as bewildered as everyone else.

Praxis rubs angrily at his eyes, and I see that the shadow gauntlet has shrunk back, like a plant withering from the heat. With a furious snarl, he lumbers forward and swings again. I block him with both arms and shove him back. He attacks again and again. The shadow is already coming back, growing around his skin, and I can feel its icy grasp drawing the energy from my body.

“Do it again, Tyler!” I yell.

“I don’t know what I did! Uh, uh…” He stares at his hands. “Okay, uh… Get the fuck off of him, you son of abitch!”

But nothing happens this time. He stands there, palms out like he’s pressing an invisible wall.

Praxis’s claws swing down and catch Tyler’s cloak, shredding it across the front. The fabric hangs in tatters, revealing the egg bound securely against Tyler’s chest. Praxis stares at it, his eyes growing wide. Tyler quickly pulls the torn cloak closed.

“Oh-ho. This simplifies things,” Praxis says, grinning. “Give me the egg.”

Tyler raises his middle finger at him.

Then, a low tremor shakes the ground around us. Praxis cocks his head and looks around—and suddenly, he’s thrown into the air as the paving beneath him explodes upward like a huge stone fist. I throw myself over Tyler, shielding him from the rain of debris that peppers the ground around us.

“That wasn’t me,” he says, wide-eyed.

We look up. Someone new has arrived, striding out from the shadows of the city with a long staff held high. The stone pillar breaks apart and reforms around Praxis as he tries to get back to his feet. He lets out an enraged howl, and I catch a glimpse of his eye before the last stone whirls into place, sealing him inside a domed prison.

Our defender flings a final chunk of stone at the burnt swordsman, who was attempting to escape, and knocks him out cold. Then, he steps into the light.

“Airos!” Tyler shouts.

The phony monk’s stupidly perfect smile is like an oasis in the desert.

“By the Gods, I could kiss you,” I say.

“In front of your mate? You dog!”

Airos hurries over and helps us to our feet. His emerald green tunic is partially covered by a dirty burgundy cloak, torn andworn at the hem. He looks like he’s been living out of a hole in the ground.

He squeezes my shoulder and gives it a firm jerk like he’s making sure I’m real. He shakes his head in disbelief. “You werenotthe Phoenikos I expected to find. I can’t believe you’re both here.”