Equinox

Chapter Twenty Four

"We are so screwed."

Dylan's proclamation was less than comforting. After the oracle's prediction, the seven of us had slunk off into the woods and then put as much distance between ourselves and the hoard of angry, bloodthirsty paranormals as possible. We had left them in a state of discord, with Petran trying vainly to reassemble order. Clearly, he hadn't expected the oracle to offer a means to thwart their plot. That's what happened when you put egotists in charge.

They never took the potential for disaster into account.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I replied dryly.

Everyone was stumbling around our campsite. It was early morning, and the light filtering through the trees above was warm and golden. Birds, hidden in the leaves over our heads, called to one another in rapid succession. Their music added to the paradise of our surroundings. If we managed to survive this encounter, then I wouldn't mind coming back to the island for a much deserved vacation.

Fang, who had taken the last watch, yawned before cutting into our conversation. "Um, no, actually. Not obvious. Care to explain?"

Iggy was passing around packets of granola bars and looking very displeased that I wouldn't let him light a fire for eggs and bacon (yeah, he cooked- weird, right?). But we didn't need the smoke (or smell, for that matter) attracting any unwanted attention. Nudge was already chewing on her second and Angel was sipping at a juice box. They both nodded in agreement with Fang.

"Phoenixes have practically been reduced to myth," Dylan explain, leaning against the base of a tree and scuffing the dirt with the tip of his shoe until he had exposed a line of rich soil. "There hasn't been the slightest mention of a sighting of one in over three hundred years, and even then, they weren't common."

"We really don't know anything about them," I added with a shrug.

"And now one's supposed to come swooping in and save the day?" Angel asked doubtfully.

"Not exactly."

It was Gazzy who said this. He had been sitting with his back to the rest of the group the entire morning. I hadn't paid much attention to what he was doing up until that point. Now I saw that the anxious turning of his head had been from his skimming through the pages of a large, bronze-plated volume. He held the book open to a spread of pages riddled with stains. The writing was done by hand and was small, cramped, and nearly unintelligible. But even from a distance, I could spot the red and orange rendition of a phoenix carefully preserved on the yellowing sheets.

"There are instructions," he revealed, pointing to the right-hand column of script.

"Instructions for what?" Nudge's tone rang with curiosity.

"Summoning a phoenix," Gazzy replied with a shrug.

He then explained that though the book had been heavy, he had thought that it might come in handy if we needed help identifying something. Honestly, he was rather smug about the whole ordeal, but I let him have his moment. This was the first time he had really been allowed to accompany us on a mission, and he was surely proving his usefulness.

We assembled our packs and gathered in a circle around Gazzy. After he finally stopped beaming in pride, he placed the pad of his finger on the first line of print and began reading.

"In mythology, the phoenix is regarded as a creature which follows a cycle of death and rebirth, typically believed to regenerate from its own ashes. Various symbolic meanings have been assigned to the creature, but little proof has ever been discovered as to the true origin, nature, and purpose of the phoenix. Following is suspected to be a means through which one may summon the legendary being," he concluded.

"Suspected?" I interjected skeptically.

We were resting the hope of the human race on a suspected summoning ritual?

A series of equally dubious and hopeful looks were exchanged between everyone present. I hid my face behind my hands and massaged the space above my eyes methodically. The mounting stress of our situation was manifesting in a burst of perspiration along my collar, and I pinched my tank top between my fingers and held it away from my skin, lest it grow sticky with sweat.

"It's the best lead we've got," Dylan finally conceded with a wince.

"It's the only lead we've got," Nudge pointed out, yanking nervously at her bushy ponytail.

Various murmurs of consent passed through the remaining contenders.

"Alright," I caved. "What do we need?"

"Well," Gazzy drawled, scratching the back of his neck. "The Phoenix is thought to be a creature of the sun. But according to these directions, the bulk of the ritual comes from objects representative of all the elements. Ash from a sacred fire," he listed, ticking each item off with a flick of his nail, "bone of the earth goddess, a stone blessed by the River -capital 'r'-, and the petal of a summit flower."

He scanned the page for another moment before glancing up. We all stared blankly at him. Bone of a who? Stone by a what? Petal where? The outcome of our summoning ritual was looking bleak before we even started. There was probably a better likelihood that we could kill every last paranormal on the island before we managed to scrape up all four of those things- and in either case, the odds were not in our favor.

"It's the only lead we've got," Iggy reminded us emphatically.

My head lolled back and I squinted into the canopy of trees. Chinks of pastel blue sky could be seen between the wide leaves. Briefly, I saw the red tip of a bird's wing brushing against a branch before it disappeared from view. As the sun climbed higher, the temperature rose with it. Heat crawled up my jaw and flamed out across my chest.

We couldn't have come all this way for nothing. The oracle had said the phoenix will rise. Not maybe. Not if the group of kids wandering through the jungle could find a way to summon it. She had been definite in her prediction. Why did the prevention of Pertan's scheme necessarily rest on our shoulders? Maybe we weren't meant to do anything at all. Maybe the issue would resolve itself.

But I didn't relish the idea of sitting around waiting for someone else to step in. I had a nagging feeling that, whatever the outcome may be, we would have a part in it. That didn't involve ignoring our present predicament.

"We should stick together," I decided, resigned.

Fang lifted his head. "Wouldn't it be more time effective if we split up? We don't have any clue what we're doing anyway."

"We don't have a clue about anything that's going on around here, including the whereabouts of all those peaceful and welcoming paranormals we saw last night. It'd be too dangerous to go separate," I insisted, shoving to a stand. I brushed the dirt from my shorts and collected my things.

Dylan had already unsheathed an arrow and strung it on his bow. I put a hand to my belt reflexively, feeling the familiar bulk of the weapons I carried there. We would need to be on high alert as we moved. There was a good chance we'd cross paths with a paranormal. I would be naive to expect anything otherwise.

"I have a pretty good idea where we should start, but I don't like it," I admitted grimly. "The closest thing we'll get to a sacred fire is the one they burned for the oracle last night."

Dylan immediately offered his dissent. "Are you crazy? That place will be crawling with paranormals. Isn't our objective to go unnoticed? It's going to make our search a helluva lot harder when we're dodging hunting parties left and right."

I pursed my lips. He wanted to attack me about supposedly changing? How hypocritical, considering how argumentative and insubordinate he had become of the late. I couldn't speak a word without him contradicting me at every turn. It was one thing for him to occasionally fly off the handle about my safety, blahblahblah, but he was reaching an all time high for getting on my nerves.

"We've got the best eyes and ears with us, not to mention a mind reader. If it's too dangerous, then we'll try something else," I said offhandedly.

The razor sharp line of his mouth and the cold steel of his gaze betrayed his displeasure, but other matters were taking priority, so I didn't much care to appeal to him in any other way.

The others were milling about, trying not to look uneasy. I began to bark orders. We needed arranged in some kind of pattern. It wouldn't do for us to be tripping over one another or pulling ahead or falling behind. Unfortunately, other than the previous night, this was the first time all of us were attempting to travel in stealth as a single unit. The younger kids had very little true experience hunting, and it showed in their wide eyes and insecure fidgeting.

I put Dylan on point. His superior eyesight would be the best warning of potential danger heading our way. Not to mention that other than me, he was the most qualified to fight paranormals. Iggy and Angel fell into place behind him. From the middle of our configuration, Iggy's ultra-sensitive ears would be able to scan for any fluctuations of the norm, and Angel would be able to project her power to sense unwelcome intrusions as well. Gazzy and Nudge went on either side of them and were charged with keeping all their senses attuned to the jungle. Fang and I would bring up the rear, in the case that danger approached from behind.

I adjusted the stake clipped to Fang's belt. He had taken to carrying one ever since that first hunt, when he had killed the vampire that had almost stolen Dylan's life. He smirked down at me. I had to tilt my chin slightly up to meet his eyes. I hadn't realized I was so close, but our chests nearly touched. Another couple inches and our shirts would brush … I blinked to clear my mind of any such thoughts.

"You're practically a war general, aren't you Max?" he teased, a small indent appearing on the left side of his jaw, just beneath his lips. I found my gaze lingering over them, wondering if they were as soft as they looked.

His smile widened, and I quickly averted my train of sight, focusing on the bridge of his nose. Anywhere but his mouth or the humor in the obsidian depths of his eyes.

"It's kind of hot," he whispered, and I nearly choked.

From over my shoulder, Dylan coughed pointedly. I whirled on my heel, desperately hoping that I was only imagining the pink hue of my cheeks. Oh God, what was wrong with me? Why couldn't I think straight? Oh, right. You have to breathe, Max. I sucked in a lungful of air. Dylan's expression was hard, and there was a muscle working in his jaw that I had never seen so constricted before.

"We should go." His tone was robotic, and he turned with a jerk rather than his usually smooth gait.

Now was possibly the worst time for my relationship with Dylan to deteriorate. Because of another guy no less.

Fang fell into step beside me. The others were fanned out in front of us just as I had instructed them. We began our rough journey rather noisily, but as we traversed the land, our combined steps morphed from clunky to gliding.

I risked a peek at Fang from my peripheral vision, only to find that he was already staring at me. Oh sweet Jesus, why did that dark gaze have to be so penetrating? Every time he looked at me I felt more and more exposed.

At one point, my heel got lodged in the rotting carcass of a fallen palm tree. Without pause, Fang grasped my hand in his, the other on my elbow, and pulled me free. For a moment, we were so close that our noses brushed. My stomach did a complete somersault and the heat already burning through my body leaped to sweltering. I couldn't be sure, but a part of me insisted that he too had hesitated at our intimate contact.

When I was finally righted and on solid ground, my eyes immediately fell on Dylan. He was glaring furiously over an oblivious Iggy's shoulder. Great.

Eventually we managed to hike our way back to the spot from which we had surveyed the pit before. After squeezing her eyes shut tight and wrinkling her nose in consternation, Angel determined that the only nearby paranormals were the two standing guard before the mouth of a cave that I hadn't noticed previously. She had registered faint glimmers of thought from inside said cave, but they were distant enough that she was confident we could approach, so long as we managed to collect the ash without the present creatures warning anyone of our presence.

About a quarter of the way around the circle from where we stood, a rough, steep set of stairs had been cut into the stone. My mind whirred as I formulated then discarded strategies. Finally, I decided on a course of action.

"Dylan, Iggy, Nudge, and Gazzy stay topside. As long as you fly beneath the treeline, Iggy and Nudge can loop around the perimeter and keep tabs on our surroundings. Dylan, you and Gazzy be ready if any paranormals approach. Fang, Angel, and I will go down into the pit. Angel can distract the guards with a little mind control while Fang covers her. I'll get the ash. We'll be out of here in no time," I asserted with conviction.

Before anyone could argue or point out any flaws, I hunched over and ran for the stairs. The sharp thwack of wings extending were all the response I needed. Greenery was sparse as I neared the steps. The trample of many feet had reduced the ground to its soil. A similar trail extended into the trees before winding out of sight. I had a fraction of a second to wonder where it led, then my attention was snared by the view of Fang and Angel descending into the pit.

As I picked my way down the stairs, I recognized the sentries to be a troll and a seemingly normal, young human woman. She was staring with guarded interest as Fang and Angel spiraled in for a landing. The troll just drooled a bit and swung its spiked cleaver from side to side, not paying attention to anything in particular.

Angel immediately engaged the woman in conversation, smiling sweetly and batting her long, blonde eyelashes. Fang stood behind her, arms crossed in an intimidating fashion. A glazed sheen had already washed over the woman's pupils.

I wasted no time and quickly dashed to the smoldering remnants of last night's pyre. I peeled back the lid of the container that had once held Iggy's bacon and scooped a helping of gray ash into it. I was just sealing the lid once more when a gurgling bellow emitted from the troll. Freezing, I glanced up. The troll's beady eyes were narrowed and focused directly on me.

Fang stepped back into a partially defensive crouch. Angel glared at the troll for a moment, mouth silently moving. The troll paid her no mind, advancing toward me with his weapon held high. His steps were heavy, but he moved with surprising agility. He had already spanned half the distance between us in the time it took me to stand.

His skin was mottled green and brown, and a thick, crusty substance oozed from his nose. I gagged at the scent rolling off him and drew a knife. It wouldn't do much good. Troll hide was extremely resilient. I needed to get close enough to deliver one good conk to his head. Their skulls were their most vulnerable body part.

"I- I can't. It's not working," Angel cried in frustration. Her brow was furrowed in sharp lines.

"Of course it's not working," a scathing voice replied. "He hasn't enough brain. That's a nice trick you've got there, sweetheart."

In the time that Angel had concentrated her focus on the troll, the woman had come back to her senses. She shook her head, shooting Angel an annoyed look. Her dark hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and a wicked grin lit up her green eyes. The red shift she had been wearing seemed to suddenly tighten at all the right places, accentuating her chest and hips.

"Get them," she snapped at the troll, who had paused at the sound of her voice.

Then she turned to Fang. His jaw had gone slack. "Come here, honey," she purred, curling her finger at him.

With a bitter jolt, it dawned on me exactly what she was. A lamia. And right now, she was going to do the only thing she was good for …

Seducing young men.