A Ride of Peril(21)

"Like a manual," I added.

"Indeed. These are all spells, for sure, and they all seem to have spoken formulas, invoking the power of the word," the Daughter explained, glancing over snippets of texts.

Hansa cocked her head, as if analyzing the Daughter. "I wonder," she mumbled, then spoke in a different language.

I didn't understand it.

The Daughter looked up.

"The answer is violet," she replied.

Hansa nodded, then looked at Draven and me.

"I spoke in my tribe's code. Only my sisters and I know it. Yet the Daughter understands it perfectly. I asked her a simple question about the color of her eyes, and she answered."

"So, she understands an ancient succubi tongue as well," I concluded.

All eyes were on the Daughter, who seemed a bit overwhelmed by the attention. Phoenix swiftly joined her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, keeping her close. I watched her relax under his touch.

"She's a Daughter of Eritopia," Draven reasoned. "She most likely understands every word of every language, every code ever invented in this world."

"It makes sense, if you think about it," Hansa replied.

"Indeed, it does." He nodded, then looked at the Daughter. "Would you be so kind as to help us translate this book? The sooner we find the spell we need, the quicker we can rescue Sverik and make progress against Azazel."

The Daughter took the large compendium in her arms, smiled at Draven, then headed for the door.

"Phoenix, she can use one of the study rooms upstairs," I said to my brother as he joined the Daughter on her way out.

He waved in response, without turning his head.


      ///
       
         
       
        

We all sat down. A collective sigh of relief fell over us as we finished our meals.

"We're one step closer to getting Sverik out of there." Draven looked at me and smiled.

His hand covered mine on the table, his grip tightening gently, enough to send sparks up my arm and fill me with his familiar warmth.





Phoenix





We'd been at it for hours. Midnight had come and gone as the Daughter and I worked on translating the swamp witches' book. She read passages out loud, and I took notes, using old pencils and several journals I'd found in one of the drawers.

A few candles gave enough light for our eyes to handle the reading and writing process without struggling. Owls hooted outside. A giant moon spared a few milky white rays for the study room.

"This one's a concealing spell," the Daughter said as she read a couple of passages from another chapter. "It's supposed to be like a paste of sorts, a mixture of ingredients that one spreads over any surface they wish to conceal. The incantation is short. We should write this down. Draven and Serena might need it."

I couldn't help but gaze at her, unable to wipe the smile off my face. She was so innocent, yet capable of the strangest things. And here she was in the middle of the night thinking of ways to help my sister and the Druid. Despite her ingenuity, the Daughter had developed this sense of urgency that we'd all been facing for days. She looked at me questioningly.

"What is it, Phoenix?"

"Nothing. I'm just amazed at how selfless you can be. Others would be moaning about how tired they are, yet you're fishing for more spells to help Draven and Serena," I replied, my fingers playing with a lock of her hair.

"Well, I haven't found the protection spell that they need against fire yet, so we might as well write the useful ones down in the meantime."

I nodded and proceeded to jot down the ingredients for the concealment paste. Most of the herbs and powders she mentioned sounded familiar, giving me the impression that I'd seen some of them downstairs in the greenhouse and in the basement. Vita had put labels on everything.

However, as the minutes went by, I started to acknowledge the heaviness in my limbs and head. I hadn't syphoned in a while, and I was hungry for energy. I tried to concentrate as I wrote down the quantities in the order in which she dictated them, but eventually I started to lose track and blanked out for a few moments, unable to get my brain back in motion.

"Phoenix, are you okay?" the Daughter asked, furrowing her brow.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just a little hungry."

"But we had dinner." 

"I'm a sentry. I need energy," I reminded her, and she nodded. "Don't worry. I'll ask Field or Jovi tomorrow. I can syphon from them."

I'd told her about my abilities before but without much detail. She shook her head and took my hand.

"Why not me?"