CHAPTER TWELVE

ABIBI/INISFAIL

ADEEN

Adeen sang to Dayiel as he worked, as she did every day. Not with words he could understand, but with the notes of a songbird — the form she took most often around him. He could recognize the melodies, and sometimes he smiled when he heard her.
Dayiel always watched birds warily, and sometimes he tried to shoo her away when she got too close. His gentle nature always asserted itself, though. prompting him to offer crumbs of bread and bits of cheese in spite of his dislike and fear of anything winged.
She longed for the day she could reveal herself to him. Since she’d used her Phoenix side to resurrect after saving Azar, she’d appeared to Dayiel several times. But he saw her true nature through any human glamour and associated her flames with creatures from his nightmares. They had been enemies when they met. Apparently, that memory wasn’t buried as far as the rest. Her appearance sent him further into his delusions, so she came to him as a bird he didn’t look at too closely.
Adeen waited for Dayiel to shut his stall for the day and hitched a ride home under an empty sack in the back of his cart. He had rambling one-sided conversations with the horse.
The forest near their home was eerily silent as Dayiel pulled into the yard and tended to the horse.
Upon her death, Dayiel was meant to have taken Azar and moved to a far away town so she could return to them, but he never did. Losing her must have made the delusions he lived under worse. If anyone here saw her, or Dayiel in his delusions, mentioned she’d returned, nothing good would come of that. In his condition, Dayiel had enough trouble with people. If they thought he saw spirits, or that his mind was nearer to breaking, they’d ostracize him.
If only they knew the warrior he’d once been, and the things he’d protected them from without their knowledge or appreciation. Humans thought spirits were the most terrifying things they might encounter because fighters like Dayiel stood between true monsters and the rest of the world. But they’d retired from those wars and paid dearly — her, with a life, and him, with his mind, for a chance for their love to blossom.
So, she was stuck with birds forms until Dayiel moved away or his mind settled enough to understand what had happened. As a raven, Adeen could exchange a few words with Azar when the girl wandered in the forest. At first, Azar had been too young, or always accompanied by a guardian. Now, Adeen worried it had been too long, and her daughter would hate her if she revealed herself.
The more time that passed, the easier it was to remain close, but hidden. Azar didn’t know what they were. Wouldn’t know what was happening or what she could do when her magic emerged.
A dark shape burst from the treetops. Half-man, half-raven, he carried Azar’s limp form in his arms and flew straight up into the night sky. He was kidnapping her daughter! Her flames threatened to burst from her tiny songbird form as terror and rage filled her.
Adeen abandoned the cart and flew after the birdman. The raven shifter was getting too far ahead. This interloper wasn’t part of the forest. She knew every creature within miles of their home. Phoenixes were protective of what was theirs. This compact form didn’t have the speed she needed to catch a raven. And when she caught him, she would feed him to her flames. With the risk of Dayiel seeing her, she burned her songbird form to ashes and became a falcon in a flash of red, orange, and gold magic. Her new swiftness carried her close to her target.
The abductor tucked his wings close, flew into a tear in the sky, and disappeared. A portal.
“Azar!” Dayiel’s heartbroken voice carried from the trees.
Adeen veered away and glanced down at her husband. Sharp falcon eyesight showed her Dayiel on the ground,, crumpled to his knees, head in his hands Her heart broke at the utter devastation he evinced. Losing Azar would make his confusion worse. Might break him completely.
But her daughter had been kidnapped. Taken to another world. No way to know how long the portal would remain open. Azar had the Phoenix feather. Adeen could follow that connection anywhere, track it even to another world. Time was the factor here. Who knew what that man would do to Azar? Better to get her back sooner.
Dayiel had help here, though he didn’t know it, and with his traumatized mind, he already thought her dead. He would be all right. Azar needed her more. She flew after the raven who had stolen her daughter. 
Adeen let her long dormant Phoenix side out of the cage she’d shut herself in years ago. Her falcon body burned to ash, and she unfurled into her larger orange, red, yellow, and gold form, as flame licked over her feathers. Her fire was only a dim glow, not as hot as it used to be, but her strength would return the longer she remained in this form.
A portal to another world. She’d seen enough of them in her life and had hoped never to see another. 
She soared through the gateway.
Phoenixes were rare, and often attracted beings who wanted to use them. Humans. Magic users. Dragons. Everyone coveted them. Wanted to cage them. Use their flames.
Of the many worlds she’d traveled, this was not one known to her. Its magic felt heavy and only distantly familiar. The raven man was a mere dot on the horizon, flying toward a black castle. Beyond that, an ocean. Under her, a tract of forest.
Adeen flew faster. She didn’t know this place. Better to get Azar and leave as quickly as possible.
A flight of arrows launched from the trees. Her flames burned some. Others missed as she dodged. Shouts reached her, even at the heights she rose to. A second volley of arrows flew at her. More of them than before. No way to avoid all of them.
Adeen willed her flames to burn hotter, but her magic was too weak.
She burned the tips and quarrels of three, but a fourth pierced her wing, and a fifth struck her chest. While the tip burned away, the wooden shaft skewered her before it too burned away.
Pain immobilized her wings. Adeen shrieked and fell from the sky, turning to ash before she hit the ground.