Titanium (Amber trilogy Book 2) Page 16

  “I know. He was born in the Roman Empire.” Yeah, she couldn’t resist and had looked him up. It was the weirdest thing: reading about your biological father on an ancient history site.

  “Actually he wasn’t. Rome was nothing but a minuscule hill when Crassus was already centuries old. He’s been around since before the pyramids. Contrary to what history books tell you, history did not begin with the ancient Egyptians. Why does every history book start with the Egyptians?”

  “I have no idea. But does it matter when he was born?”

  Benedict looked further into the crate until he pulled out a round box. “Ah, there you are.” He blew the dust off the box. “It matters because it means that Crassus is much older than you think. The older the phoenix, the stronger he is. If you’re ancient like him, it has certain perks.”

  “What kind of perks?”

  “He’s one of the rare phoenixes that have the power to extinguish.”

  “Like what happened to Faey.” She still had no clue what Faey had done to deserve that punishment or what it exactly meant.

  Benedict shook his head. “Faey was sentenced to the extinguish penalty. That’s different than being extinguished by Crassus. In the latter case it means that the life force, the fire within a phoenix, is literally drawn out from him. Being extinguished, or the true death, is the ultimate penalty in our world. We then can no longer trace, and our bodies are basically as weak as of humans. So be careful when dealing with Crassus. He is not only your father but also your king. His reputation, his authority, is very important to him.”

  Amber was still at the part about Crassus being able to extinguish a phoenix. “So a phoenix can die?”

  He gave her the box. “Open it.”

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “Your dress isn’t as fancy as mine, but the ancient Romans had a simpler taste than the ones during Pope Boniface VIII.”

  Apparently he wasn’t. She opened the box and pulled out a gold tiara in the form of laurel wreaths. “You can’t be serious. I’m not wearing that.”

  “It’s tradition for every clan to donate a priceless object to the auction. This tiara was said to belong to the queen of Sheba. She lived during a time when most women were considered to be merely the chattel of the father or husband. The queen of Sheba, however, was a strong woman who did not buckle for any man.”

  Suddenly she understood why he chose this tiara and it made it all the more precious to her. She put a hand on his arm as a silent ‘thank you’. He had been her rock for the past week. Crazy, broken Benedict who had entire conversations with an invisible Lola while giving his hamster a bath. Benedict, who had taken her to the hospital after Matteo had been furious due to the Oasis incident. “I will carry it,” she said softly.

  “Of course you will. The gold goes great with your white dress.” He put the hat with the feather back on. “During the auction everybody shows his colors.”

  “So… white is my color?”

  He waved her question away. “You’ll understand later. Tonight is a time of ceremony and old traditions. Since Crassus is your patriarch, you are expected to dress like him. Like in his time period,” he emphasized.

  “But you just told me he isn’t a Roman.”

  “Crassus is older than dirt. Nobody truly knows when he was born. He has embraced his time during the heights of the Roman empire, however, so no one will dare to suggest otherwise. Certainly not the draconis who surround him during the auction.”

  It felt like a punch to her stomach when she was reminded of a certain draconi. She hadn’t spoken to Drake since the re-opening of the Oasis. Her pride kept her from calling. Also, it hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t answered her question about Jade. “I thought the auction was a phoenix-only thing.”

  “Hardly,” Benedict huffed. “As with any king, Crassus enjoys holding court. After all, what’s a king without his subjects he can make feel inferior? In fact, it is said he coined the word ‘inferi’.”

  Now why didn’t that surprise her? She had seen her biological father just once, and the encounter didn’t exactly leave her with a warm, fuzzy feeling towards the man. “I’m surprised he had an affair with my mother. She was a dryad, an inferi, after all, according to him.”

  Benedict returned to his hamster. “You should know that, compared to the number of inferi, there are only a handful of phoenixes. There are six billion people on Earth and hardly a million phoenixes. While a human can technically give birth every nine months, it can take a phoenix woman up to half a century, if not more, to get pregnant. So our population is much smaller. According to our legends, both humans and supernatural beings descend from phoenixes. It’s basically reverse Darwinism.”

  “Doesn’t this make phoenixes monkeys?” she asked sweetly.

  He shook his head, putting his hamster on his shoulder. “I said reverse. According to Darwin, it’s the survival of the fittest. The fittest evolve into something stronger and end on top of the food chain. Phoenixes already consider themselves on top of the food chain, making everything descending from us inferi.”

  “Please don’t tell me you believe in this inferi bullshit too,” she groaned. She yet had to meet a phoenix without a superiority complex.

  Benedict grinned. “Of course not, pet. Phoenix history is full of noble phoenixes falling for simple inferi, Crassus being a prime example. He broke his own rules when he fell for your mother.”

  “Did you know my mum?” Part of her wanted to get to know Crassus. Maybe he had his own stories to tell about her mother. Perhaps even, one day, they could have a normal chat.

  “No, I wasn’t around these parts of the world back then.” Benedict blinked and frowned, a confused look crossing his face. “Odd. I don’t remember where I was at that time.”

  Oh no. Time for a change of subject. “So, um… I heard his inflaming took Namaka only two days. Makes me wonder why I ended up in a coma for a year?”

  He blinked again, this time looking more focused. “Because you’re a dryad, pet. You descend from creatures who once where the guardians of trees and the forest. Quite the polar opposite of fiery phoenixes. Do you know Merlin?”

  “The wizard?” She’d given up on trying to follow Benedict’s train of thought. “Don’t tell me you knew him as well.” Yesterday he’d tried to convince her that her half-brother Hector had fought during the Trojan war.

  “Don’t be absurd. Merlin the wizard is a myth.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Is there a point you were trying to make?”

  He lifted his index finger. “Every myth has some truth in it. During Merlin’s time, England was plagued by invading mercenaries. Saxons, Vikings, you name it. So, the British king Vortigern fled to Wales. There he tried to erect a new citadel, but it kept collapsing. Merlin was approached by the king as to the reason of this. The wizard declared there were two dragons, a white and red one, beneath the citadel, fighting each other and destroying the foundation of the castle. The white one was the symbol for the Saxons. Eventually the red one won and the castle could be built.”

  This time she had no difficulty following where he was going with this. “You mean there are two beings inside me fighting as well?”

  “You are like an icicle on the radiator, trying not to melt. You’re like a puddle of water in the middle of a desert that—”

  “Okay, okay, I get the point.”

  He tapped his head. “It’s a bit like having two personalities underneath the same roof.”

  Really? He was telling her…? No, not going there. A sarcastic retort wouldn’t help Benedict. Also, she didn’t have a hundred gold coins to pay the fine should he get another attack. “So, what’s your advice?” she asked instead.

  “You’re approaching your fiery nature in the wrong way. You’re fighting it when you should embrace it. Change is a part of life. Nothing remains the same forever. Only when you accept who you are now can you keep control of it. Sometimes you should let yourself
go and see where the chips drop.”

  “The last time I let go, I ended up dancing half-naked. In public.” She still cringed when she thought about it.

  “There’s nothing wrong with nudity.”

  “Says the man usually parading around in a robe or a pair of boxers.” She followed him to a rack of clothes filled with exquisite evening gowns. “Who do these belong to? They are beautiful.”

  “Those are Faey’s.”

  Apparently pigs could fly. “Faey in a gala dress?”

  “Not a bigger social butterfly has existed for the past century than Faey Lancaster,” Benedict claimed. “She could be found at every high-society party. Usually with her nose in a cocktail.”

  It was hard to picture Faey in anything other than leather pants or sports gear. Hmm, then again, she had seen her in one in her vision. “So, what’s Faey going to wear during the auction?” She kinda hoped Faey’s father was born during Elizabethan England and she had to wear a corset and a hoop skirt.

  “I’m not going.”

  Amber turned around to find Faey standing behind her. Her black tank top was shredded and, judging by her walk, she favored her left leg. “You look terrible,” she said honestly.

  Faey shrugged. “Matteo was in for a sparring session.”

  “Your brother did this?” Mr. silk ties and custom-made Italian suits?

  “Don’t be fooled by his suits and French manicure. Behind that polished facade there’s a warrior who is deadly with a rapier.” She winced. “Especially when he’s pissed.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Amber said, getting pissed herself. “He doesn’t have the right to take his anger out on you. It was my choice to fight back at the Oasis. I can’t always count on him.” Unfortunately Matteo’s reaction had been similar to Drake’s: anger, hurt, and disappointment.

  “In the end we’re all alone,” Faey said softly.

  “I knew you’d understand me.” After the attack at the Oasis, Faey had told her that apparently she wasn’t as useless as she seemed. From her mouth, that was a compliment. Matteo, however, barely spoke to her. Like Drake, he dealt with his rage through an icy silence.

  “Actually, you’re wrong,” Faey said to her amazement.

  Benedict walked over to another set of crates, mumbling in himself.

  When he was out of earshot Faey continued. “That night at the Oasis could have ended very differently, and it would have been my fault.”

  “No it wouldn’t,” she disagreed. “You’re not the one who attacked me. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty because I was in danger.”

  Faey wiped the sweat from her face. “I’m not feeling guilty for putting you in danger. I feel guilty for putting my brother in danger.”

  Amber tried not to show those words hurt. She’d thought they were becoming friends, but obviously she’d been wrong. “I don’t follow. Matteo wasn’t even there. I didn’t call for him.” Which was exactly the reason why both he and Drake were pissed at her.

  Faey rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. We both know he doesn’t have to be present in order to die with you.”

  She felt the dress slide from her fingers. “What?”

  The phoenix suddenly looked worried. “Shit, I thought you knew.”

  “Tell me what you mean.”

  “Eh, I think this is a conversation between you and your promesi.” Faey fidgeted.

  She grabbed Faey’s wrist. “Don’t you dare trace away.”

  Faey looked at her arm as if she couldn’t believe Amber dared to touch her. “Let go of me, little flame.”

  No chance in hell. “I can’t protect Matteo if I don’t know how I endangered him in the first place.”

  “Matteo is going to be so pissed at me if he finds out I told you.”

  “I won’t breath a word of it to him,” she immediately promised.

  Faey let out a string of curses but then her eyes narrowed. “The only reason I’m telling you this is to protect my brother. And because if I don’t you’ll ask Benedict anyway. Knowing my brother, he hasn’t told you because he doesn’t want to put any pressure on you or some noble horseshit like that. Sometimes I forget he was born in a time of knights and valor. In a time not all men were assholes.”

  “Faey… Focus, please.”

  “It’s very simple, little flame. Promesis have unbreakable bonds. If you die, Matteo dies, and vice versa. It’s a way to keep alliances in check.”

  A sick feeling settled in her stomach. “But Matteo is immortal.”

  “Immortal, yes. Indestructible? No. Like I said before, there are things worse than death. If someone killed you right now, Matteo would die with you. He would eventually rise from his ashes, though, at about the same place he died. The older the phoenix, the faster he rises. Imagine this: an enemy discovering where Matteo will rise. He could wait him out and, the minute he’s up and running, put him in a titanium cage. That way he could be killed over and over, held as a slave for all eternity.”

  “Stuff like that actually happens?” She was horrified by the thought, but somehow she already knew the answer.

  Faey combed her fingers through her hair. “There are rumors. There are only a few phoenixes who are capable of extinguishing one of us permanently, but everyone knows our weakness. If you kill a phoenix over and over again, eventually he will cease to rise from the ashes. Depending on the phoenix’s strength, it can take centuries, but what do we have more of than time? This is the reason why promesis are so protective of each other. You literally share a life thread.”

  Amber tried to process it. The huge responsibility that came with the promesi bond. A bond she had never asked for. A bond she would have never accepted had she had any say in the matter.

  Once again she wished she could turn back the hands of time.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Lately, Amber’s life felt like ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. It jumped from high to low, from the left to the right. Which was especially the case tonight, during her entry in the phoenix world.

  A white-gloved bellboy opened the door of their Bentley, while Benedict helped her out of the car. After all, she was seriously in danger of doing a face-plant should her high heels get stuck on the hem of her dress.

  They had arrived at a cottage in Salisbury which was basically a big, square building, covered in vines and having a Victorian vibe to it. The driveway was a long gravel road that ended in a roundabout in front of the house. Before them, a couple walked in, passing the illuminated patio.

  She put a hand on Benedict’s arm to steady herself. Balancing on high, spiked heels, wasn’t exactly helping to calm her frayed nerves. “I don’t understand why you insisted I should wear heels with this dress. It’s not like the ancient Romans wore sky-high Pradas. I could have worn sandals.” Something she had pleaded for earlier, but Benedict had vetoed it.

  “The rules around our traditions aren’t that strict,” he said, which sounded a bit vague.

  “When do you think Matteo will arrive?” He was off buying something somewhere, as usual, so he’d be arriving after them. She was curious about his outfit. Since he was old, like practically ancient, she couldn’t wait to see what he was dressed in.

  They walked inside, being welcomed by the butler. He took their coats, and his eyes discreetly lingered on her dress and the crown for a second. Only a second, but that was enough to make her feel uneasy. However, Benedict dragged her inside a large room before she could ask what that was about.

  The room was filled with high, round tables people were standing at. Most women were dressed in red, green, blue, and yellow dresses, and the men in dark-colored suits wearing colorful ties. It took a few seconds to understand what was off about this picture. There wasn’t a hoop skirt or leather tunic anywhere in sight. Everyone was dressed in normal attire. Except for her and Benedict.

  Of course.

  She sent Benedict a withering glare, but he just gave her an innocent look.

  “Surprise?” he said.r />
  “I can’t believe you did this,” she hissed.

  Benedict was laughing his ass off. “And I can’t believe you actually thought your dress was thousands of years old. Do you have any idea how much Raid I would have to use to keep the moths from a dress that ancient?”

  In hindsight, she could kick herself. Not that she was going to admit that. “There are old dresses in museums.”

  He grinned. “Yes, behind glass, so they don’t come in contact with oxygen.”

  She didn’t get it. “Why would you want to walk around like someone out of a freak show?”

  He pushed away the feather of his velvet hat. The thing kept poking him in the eye. “You were so jittery this morning. All worried about meeting Crassus. Worried about meeting the rest of the clan. I wanted to help you lose your nerves.”

  Her mouth dropped. “You wanted to calm my nerves by dressing me in a Roman dress, wearing a gold crown? I’m dressed as if it’s Halloween!”

  “Oh, pish posh,” he said with a wave of his hand.

  “Pish posh?”

  “Looptie deeeew.”

  “Is this some kind of made-up language?”

  His eyebrows reached his forehead. “Why would I do that? Only a crazy person would do that, don’t you think?”

  Dear God…. “Benedict…”

  He patted her arm. “How high is your temperature?”

  “What?”

  “I mean: how do you feel?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Peeved. Because of you,” she added for good measure.

  “Good. ‘Peeved’ was what I was going for. At least this means you are no longer nervous.”

  She was ready to give him hell, when suddenly Matteo stood by their side, wearing a black suit and–surprisingly–a red tie instead of his usual black. She groaned. “I was really hoping you’d be wearing a costume as well. Shared pain and all that.”

  His smile didn’t reach his eyes, as he scanned the room. “You already have Benedict for that.”

  It was only then that she realized Benedict had dressed himself in a ridiculous outfit as well, so she wouldn’t be embarrassed as much. She was just about to hug him instead of strangling him, when she suddenly saw a ghost. There was a man in a grey suit and red tie standing at one of the tables.