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  Fire Within

  by Eliza Nolan

  Copyright © 2019 Eliza Nolan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Chapter One

  Samantha sat across the table hunched over her work. Between us, the polished mahogany surface was strewn with notes and marked-up photocopied pages of the Ruhantala. I leaned back, stretching into the sunlight of the tall windows along the front wall, thawing myself from the long winter in the warm Charleston sun. It was unseasonably warm for March, the air conditioning was already on, but I didn’t mind the heat after the freezing Minnesota winter.

  I rubbed my eyes, jet lag from yesterday’s flight threatening to drag me back to sleep. It was strange staying in the house that once belonged to my uncle—the uncle who’d tried to kill Graham. He was in prison and would be for a long time, and Dad owned the house now, but knowing that he’d lived most of his life here was not exactly conducive to sleep.

  That’s why I begged Mom to let us set up here in the guest house behind the main house. It was smaller, but the windows let in more sunlight. It also helped that the yard just outside the windows was lined with palmettos, their long palm fronds making it feel like a tropical paradise. My eyes settled on the hammock strung between two trees. I was dying to try it out. But we had work to do.

  Mom said that until I went through the final binding ritual, I was still vulnerable, and that people could still take my powers away from me. The worst part was that in order to take my powers, they’d have to kill me. Not to mention that almost every time I used my powers, the dark specter would visit and attack, all while telling me I didn’t deserve to be the Phoenix and wouldn’t make it through what was next.

  Without the Ankatala, I didn’t know what was next. I’d been looking for the Ankatala, or Book of the Phoenix, for several months now with no luck. The only obvious place left to look was the Phoenix Temple in the swamps near Charleston. If I could just get inside.

  Samantha twirled a lock of her short blue hair in her fingers as she leaned closer to the notepad she’d been using to scratch out translations, looking first at the page in one hand, then back at the Ancient Persian dictionary.

  “Did you find something?” I asked. She was using her high school Arabic to help search the Ruhantala for anything that might help us get to the Ankatala.

  “This says something about pain and power. This could be it.”

  I pushed out of my chair and padded across the Oriental rug in my bare feet, then leaned over her.

  Samantha scribbled on a notepad, scratching out several lines before her shoulders fell and she sighed. “Never mind.” She held up the notepad to show what she’d written:

  Power is only as strong as pain and requires blood of Beshi.

  “Damn,” I said. The book only had a few spells all interspersed with verse about training and tons of flowery prose about how to be a good Beshi. Beshi were five of the powerful fire generation who gave their powers over to the Phoenix—me—so that I became an awesome powerful warrior. This book was for the Beshi, but we hoped it contained the magic that stopped me from getting the book I really needed.

  “No mention of a protection shield or your ‘wall of pain,’” Samantha said.

  The “wall of pain” was my newest obstacle. Every time I tried to dream walk my way into the Phoenix Temple to search for the Ankatala, I ran into this barrier that I couldn’t fight my way through.

  “It’s just so frustrating. Rabia’s been looking through this thing for months, and so far, there’s no mention of it anywhere. If we could just figure out what it was, I might be able to fix it or get past it.” I flipped through some more pages of the photocopied book covered in Persian script and then groaned. Why had I taken Spanish?

  “Has anyone commented on your post?” Samantha asked.

  I slid my laptop across the table to face us and typed in the address to Demon Mage, a site for all things magic, and found my post. ‘Views: 3, Replies: 0.’

  I sighed. “I doubt if anyone will respond. I don’t have the same clout on the web that Gemma had. And I don’t read enough Turkish to use the message board she used.” I bit my lip at the mention of my cousin. The one I’d stabbed.

  It may have happened months ago, but I could still see it as if it happened yesterday. I shuddered.

  “You okay, Jules?” Samantha rubbed my shoulder and squeezed me in a one arm hug. “I know you know this, but I’ll keep telling you anyways, because you need to hear it. Gemma was going to hurt and possibly kill you and your man and even her own sister. You had no choice. Anyways, she was the one who literally twisted her own knife.”

  I bit my lip. Samantha was right. Gemma had forced my hand and made me use a knife and twisted it herself, but it was still my hand, and I still felt just as horrified, just as guilt riddled as if I’d done it all myself with no provocation.

  I pushed away the pain and turned back to my laptop. “Nobody out there seems to know anything about real magic,” I grumbled. “This is so stupid. I can dream-walk myself almost anywhere. I used to be able to dream-walk myself into the Phoenix Temple. Why is it different now that I really need to get in there? Now that I need the Ankatala.” I brushed my hair out of my face.

  “You’re sure the police don’t have it anymore?” Samantha smirked. “Because I’m thinking we would be pretty badass breaking into police lockup.”

  “Dad’s friend on the Force already checked through evidence for him.” I frowned. “Their log says there never was such a book taken into custody. He’s pretty sure someone in the department works for the Phoenixes and the book is back in the Temple. And, even if they don’t have the English translation, if they had the original Ruhantala they must have the original Ankatala as well.”

  “My money’s on them using some other form of magic to keep you out of the Phoenix Temple. I know we haven’t translated the whole thing, but most of this Ruhantala is about Beshi philosophy. The only mention of stopping magic is that whole using the Kamin as a shield thing.”

  “Could that be it?” I asked. “Could they have set up some sort of shield for the temple itself, surrounding it with Kamin?”

  “How common is Kamin? I mean, you have the necklace, and the knife you brought back from Istanbul is inlaid with shards. Your cousins had a ring and some earrings, but with the magical properties of the stone, you’d think we would have heard about it if there was a lot out there, right? I mean, do we even know where Kamin comes from?”

  “We should ask Rabia.” I pulled out my phone. “I want to check on her progress on the translation anyways.”

  The side door to the guest house opened, and Graham sauntered in with a stack of glasses and a pitcher of sweet tea. “Don’t bother that poor woman,” he said, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot and sauntering in from the hall. “It’s midnight in Turkey. She might be going slow, but disrupting her sleep won’t help.” He set the glasses and pitcher on the table and slid behind my chair, resting his warm hands on my shoulders.

  I tilted my head back and met his lips with mine in a sweet, slow kiss that sent thrilling tingles through my body.

  “Get a room,” Samantha teased, reaching over the table for one of the glasses. “And I agree with loverboy. We don’t want to upset the poor woman.”

  I returned my phone to my pocket. “Fine. I won’t call her, but I wish she would hurry up, already.”

  Graham poured a glass of sweet tea, handing it over to me.
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  “But hang on,” Samantha said. “Back to what you were saying about that Kamin protection thing. Maybe there is some sort of shield around the temple that is set up with objects like Kamin. What if they are using some other form of magical talismans? If that’s the case, couldn’t we just figure out what those objects are and move them aside?”

  “That has to be it,” I said. “When I dream walked there, I was just looking for a way through. I wasn’t looking for anything like that. I should dream walk to the Temple to check it out.”

  Samantha rose from her chair. “Let’s give it a try!”

  I took a long sip of the sweet tea. The cool, bitter and sweet liquid tasted like a summer dream. I gazed out the window at the empty hammock swaying in the breeze. “Mind if we do this one outside?”

  “Ugh,” Samantha said. “If you think you can sleep in that hot and humid suckfest, we can try. But I’mma bring the pitcher of sweet tea at least.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. I didn’t have much experience with sweet tea, but I was still pretty sure that Graham made the best.

  I led the way out of the guest house to give dream walking one more try.

  Chapter Two

  Samantha pressed a sweaty glass of sweet tea against her cheek. “I’m melting out here, Julia. Hurry up so we can go back inside.” She plopped down on one of the wicker chairs next to the hammock.

  I turned towards the sun, allowing it to warm my face, and sighed. “How can you not love this? Winter was soooo long. I need like five more years out here to thaw out.”

  Graham strolled up next to me and rubbed the small of my back as he too turned towards the sun, basking in its rays. “This is nothin’. Wait ‘til real summer hits. Ever been in one hundred plus temperatures with one hundred percent humidity?” He smiled big as he taunted Samantha.

  “Note to self,” she said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “Never ever come to Charleston after February or before November.”

  The backdoor squeaked open and my mom popped her head out. “You guys must be dying out here. Why don’t you come into the air conditioning? You’ll catch heatstroke.”

  “Thank you,” Samantha shouted towards the house.

  “Why is everyone so fixated on the heat?” I asked. “Isn’t it hot in Istanbul over the summer?”

  “Yes,” Mom said. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t hide in air conditioning whenever we get the chance.”

  Samantha nodded. “Like most normal people should.”

  “We’ll come in soon,” I said.

  Mom looked at me, her mom eyes telling me she knew what I was about to do, silently ordering me to be careful, then she slid back inside, the door closing behind her.

  I fumbled against my chest and grasped the small pendant and rolled my Kamin between my thumb and forefinger. Magic meant specter. I had been seeing that thing more and more. I should’ve been getting used to it, but no matter how many times it appeared, the fear rose in me. I couldn’t help cowering. I sucked in my lower lip and set my glass of tea on the table next to the hammock.

  Graham held the hammock steady so I could crawl in. “Let’s get this done.”

  Samantha piped in, “But if we don’t go inside after this, you guys are going to have to carry me inside and place me in an ice bath. I’m freaking dying here.”

  “Sure. Sure.” I lay back and closed my eyes. A breeze blew through the trees, rustling the palm fronds above my head, and I concentrated on what I needed. Where I needed to go. The Phoenix Temple.

  ✽✽✽

  Sunlight filters through the spring green canopy above, and the forest smells sweet and fresh.

  “Julia.”

  “Aaah,” I screech and jump at the closeness of the person behind me but instantly relax. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. I feel the warmth and recognize the thick accent. “Keleş,” I say. My ‘fated’ mate or Nefidari. Even though I’ve chosen to reject my cosmically arranged pairing to him, even though I chose Graham instead, Keleş still shows up in my dreams.

  I turn to meet him with a frown. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve already told you that if you do not want to be with me, I’ll leave you alone. But we both know I’m not the one who brings me here to your dreams.” Keleş moves closer, his chest heaving under his tee-shirt. I follow the svelte muscular lines of his chest up his neck and to his smooth jaw. His lips twitch and curl into a grin, as if he can tell I’m unable to keep my eyes off him. The scar from his upper lip to his cheekbone pulls my gaze up, and we lock eyes for a minute before I manage to pull away.

  “I’m not going to have this conversation with you again, Keleş. I’m here to get the book. You can either help or stay the heck away from me.” He’s right. I do have control over my dreams, but I’m not always able to keep him away.

  He moves closer. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Julia. You know I will.” His soft voice and liquid brown eyes threaten to melt my insides.

  I squeeze my hands into fists, digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands, and turn towards the path which leads to the Temple. “Let’s go.”

  I head for the well-worn path across the way. Keleş’s soft footfalls pad behind me. The warmth and mental fog that always accompany his presence encircles me as I go.

  “I thought you weren’t going to try dream walking anymore,” Keleş says. “Weren’t you going to go to Charleston to try physically walking in?”

  “I am in Charleston,” I say. “I just thought I would try this one more time to check it out before going in person. They can’t see me when I dream walk. It’s safer this way.”

  “If this doesn’t work and you go in person, I can go to America. Please, just let me go. I’ll stay in a hotel.”

  “No, Keleş. It’s too hard. Can’t you see how hard it is with you here in dreams?”

  Keleş sighs. “I know. Just promise to call if you need me.”

  I nod, promising myself that I will never let myself need him. Things are finally smoothing over with Graham, but it took a lot of work to get here, and it feels fragile enough that having Keleş around might shatter the new trust I’ve built with Graham.

  We follow the trail as it winds around a large old oak with heavy branches, then bends the other way to skirt a towering bush, blooming with vibrant pink flowers. I pluck one and inhale its floral scent, wishing I had a moment to relax and enjoy the summer day. But the moment I pull the delicate flower away from my face, it’s as if the path in front of me cools. A chill sends goosebumps up my spine. I slow suddenly. “Crap.”

  Without another word, Keleş and I move back to back, ready to fend off the attack. Where will it come from, and which one of us will feel its wrath this time?

  The metallic shriek comes from the left, and we both move to face it, my specter. I’m suddenly relieved that Keleş is here, because when I’m alone, the attacks are much more brutal.

  Sunlight fades as if a dark cloud covers just our small part of the forest. “You’ll never get it,” the sharp voice barks. “Even if you had the tools you needed to get in there, you don’t have the strength.” A cold, hard wind slams into me, and I lift my arms to block it.

  “Gah!” I cry as a talon rips through the flesh on my forearm.

  “You’re weak and untrained,” It continues.

  “She’s stronger than you.” Keleş widens his stance and puffs out his chest. “Stop hiding and fight us in the open.”

  We move together, arms raised and ready for battle, but the cold moves away, and the sun returns and heats our surroundings. The specter is gone.

  Keleş takes my arm. “Let me heal you.”

  “It’s just a scratch,” I say but don’t pull away from his warm touch, because it isn’t just a scratch, and because if I come out of this dream walk with a sliced-up arm, not only will Graham go full protective mode on me, but worse, Mom will call Dad.

  Prickles explode across my arm at his touch. I take a few deep breath
s, allowing my eyes to close for a moment. The pin pricks move to tickles, and I pull my arm out of his, forcing back a smile. I trace a finger over my arm where the gash had been. My skin is smooth once more, as if the specter never scratched me in the first place. “Thank you.”

  Keleş nods.

  Without another word we continue towards the Phoenix Temple. I can’t see it through the trees yet, but a chill runs up my spine as a buzz slips through the forest to me, a vibration in the air. I feel it in my bones and in my teeth. The Temple is in the clearing up ahead. I pad around the last turn, hop over a puddle, and slow to a stop next to the final oak just before the clearing.

  A rosy, translucent shield, fluid and sparkling like a waterfall, stands between me and the clearing.

  “It’s still here,” Keleş states the obvious.

  A sheer curtain hangs around the Phoenix Temple as if suspended from the clouds. It buzzes with a low hum that’s warm and inviting and beckons me forward. But my bones know the truth, aching at the memory of the electric surge, that shot through me every time I tried to pass through the veil.

  “What’s the plan?” Keleş rubs his chin as he peers at the curtain.

  I hug myself and fight the urge to spin on my heels and dart out of there. Because this is why I spent all the time working on getting Mom and Dad to bring me back to Charleston over spring break. I need to get through this veil. I need to get the book. I’ve been trying all winter, but every time I came up to this problem. I could not make it through the force field of pain. No need to check for gaps in the veil. I’d been here so many times already. I’d walked around the whole thing on several occasions.

  “We look for the source,” I say. “If we can find it, maybe we can turn it off.”

  Keleş nods.

  We examine the ground for anything, a rock, a twig, that appears out of place. If I had the Ankatala, or if I’d been trained, maybe I would know what I was searching for. What would magical talismans even look like? I don’t know, but there doesn’t seem to be anything near the edge of the trail where it meets the clearing. Nothing but the vibrating, nerve-hurting, red shield.