‘A taijishan from the late Song dynasty,’ he announces in an excited tone. ‘The dragon represents the masculine yang, and the phoenix the feminine yin. Together they symbolize harmony and balance, and are considered to bring good luck.’

  ‘A fan?’ I say, somewhat underwhelmed by his choice. ‘It’s beautiful … but how will this help me fight Tanas?’

  An amused look plays in Phoenix’s eyes. ‘You asked me the very same question last time …’ he reminds me, holding the fan up in front of my face. The dragon and phoenix shimmer in the fading light and seemingly out of nowhere a warm breeze, scented with the sweet fragrance of peach blossom, ruffles my hair. As he lowers the fan –

  – a fist comes flying at me. I barely have time to duck when I hear a snap like the wings of a great bird. Startled by the noise, I lose focus and the iron-edged fan, now a slim yet sturdy rod, strikes me hard on my head.

  ‘Ow!’ I yelp, my skull ringing as blossom petals fall around me.

  Then there’s another sharp crack and the dragon and phoenix flash before my eyes. My gaze is instinctually drawn to them – and I’m rewarded by an unseen kick to the shin.

  ‘Argggh!’ I yell, hopping on one leg and trying not to lose my balance on the uneven paving of the temple’s courtyard. ‘Stop, Feiyen, stop! This isn’t in the spirit of harmony!’

  Feiyen closes the fan with a snap, a playful grin on her slender face, her eyes glinting with mischief. ‘See, Yuán? A fan isn’t merely a shade for the sun or to cool the air, or even to conceal one’s expression. In taiji, it can be used to hide attacks, startle an opponent, distract them, and even become a weapon itself –’

  I rub my throbbing head and blink; Feiyen’s soft features revert to Phoenix’s defined cheeks and strong jawline before my very eyes. ‘I guess I’ve learned my lesson twice,’ I say, noticing that Phoenix is holding the taijishan high over his head in a fighting stance.

  ‘As the boy Yuán, you always underestimated the fan as a weapon,’ he says, lowering his guard. ‘But, as we trained together at the Purple Cloud Temple in the Wudang mountains, you came to appreciate the subtle yet powerful martial art of taiji.’ He wafts the golden fan like a butterfly across my face and I feel a chill ripple along my skin, my breath misting in front of me –

  The thin mountain air is cool and fresh, the snow settling like wisps of cloud upon the temple’s curved roof as we prepare for our pushing hands practice of tuishou. Rooting myself with a low, wide stance, I raise my hands into a guard and face Feiyen. With our wrists lightly touching, we rock smoothly back and forth.

  Our arms entwined and undulating like waves, I watch her carefully, looking for signs of an attack as well as any opportunity to unbalance her. But I soon lose myself in her gentle rhythm, mesmerized by her graceful frame. Without warning, she shoves me hard with an explosive release of fajin and I land squarely on my back in the snow.

  ‘Don’t use your eyes,’ she chides, her breath fogging in the chill air. ‘Listen for my intention with your body. Feel my energy!’

  My cheeks red with embarrassment rather than cold, I dust off the snow and take up position again. As we recommence our slow circular dance of pushing hands, I try to sense her flow of energy, her jin.

  Feiyen steps nearer, closing the space between us. The icy air around me seems to warm and I begin to wonder if I’m feeling her jin or if it’s just that I’m so close to her … All of a sudden she twists her shoulder into me, knocking me off balance, and I’m sent skidding across the courtyard on my backside.

  ‘Don’t lose your centre, Yuán,’ she chides. ‘Be like a reed. Remember: the soft and pliable will defeat the hard and strong.’

  ‘But how can I predict your attacks?’ I ask, dusting the snow off myself yet again. ‘They happen so fast and with such power.’

  ‘You must give yourself up entirely to follow the other,’ she explains, helping me to my feet. ‘Then you will sense my intent.’

  Nodding, I assume my wide-footed stance and imagine myself to be a reed in the wind. Rooted yet supple. Once more our wrists touch and I feel an unmistakable tingle pass between us. Feiyen smiles and I wonder if she feels it too. Following her flow, I surrender myself to her movements and slowly begin to sense each push before it comes, each subtle shift in her balance … even the rise of fajin, swelling like a wave within her …

  I meet her attack, yielding yet not losing my balance. With a deft twist of my body, I redirect her energy away and let it exhaust itself before I come back with my own forceful push of hands.

  ‘Hǎo shēnshǒu!’ praises Feiyen with a smile, as she now leans away from my attack.

  Our bodies fall back into sync and we seem to become one. In the ebb and flow of our sparring, I feel our energies entwine. Yin meeting yang. The increasing warmth between us is undeniable, the snow no longer feeling cold as we sway ever closer –

  44

  Phoenix and I stop, no more than a breath apart from each other. Our eyes are locked, our bodies a mirror image. The moment seems to stretch forever. We stand as still as a pair of Greek statues, wrapped in each other’s arms, the fading light in the dome reflecting softly in our starlit eyes. My brain seems to have been hijacked by my emotions. A heady cocktail of feelings that makes my pulse race and my skin flush hot. As I continue to hold my breath, I’m overcome by the strongest sense of déjà vu, that we’ve been in this situation before. Not just in the courtyard of the Purple Cloud Temple back in twelfth-century China, but many, many times in our numerous past lives together.

  We remain entwined. For a moment I question whether Yuán’s yearning for Feiyen has transferred to me along with the lessons in taiji. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that my feelings for Phoenix are the same. If anything, my feelings are even stronger in this present life. A brief Glimmer flashes before my eyes … walking hand in hand with him on a golden beach, the sun warming our bare skin as we wade out to a secluded rock in the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean … It seems whichever way round our yin and yang happen to be, our souls are forever entwined. Abandoning all caution, I decide to make the first move and lean in.

  But Phoenix pulls away. ‘I-I can’t,’ he stutters, a conflicted look in his eyes.

  My heart thuds to a stop, his rejection stinging. I peer into his sapphire-blue eyes, sensing the struggle going on in his soul. ‘Is it because of Jude?’ I ask, already knowing the answer.

  He frowns. ‘What do you mean?’

  I disentangle myself from him. ‘Don’t worry,’ I say, trying hard to keep my tone even and detached, ‘I saw you in the aircraft hangar. It’s obvious you two have a history together and … from what I can gather, a future.’

  Phoenix stares in puzzlement at me, apparently dumbfounded by the idea. Then he laughs. ‘What? You think me and Jude are an item?’

  I nod, swallowing hard on the truth as if it were a stone, and blink away the tears that threaten to come.

  ‘Heaven forbid!’ he exclaims with a nauseated grimace. ‘She’s my sister.’

  ‘Your sister?’ I gasp. ‘But you don’t look like her at all.’

  ‘No, not in this life,’ Phoenix explains. ‘She’s my First Sister, from our time in the Hakalan tribe.’

  My jaw drops. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ I say, their constant bickering now beginning to make some sense.

  Phoenix shrugs. ‘Well … we haven’t exactly had time to chat since you rescued me.’

  I give him a reproachful look. ‘We had more than enough time on our night hike across the desert,’ I point out.

  ‘OK. I guess so …’ Phoenix admits, ‘but I really didn’t want to get into it then, not with Jude right behind me. Our relationship is complicated, to say the least.’

  ‘Like the relationship with your Soul Father, Goggins?’ I ask.

  ‘No, that one’s relatively straightforward,’ replies Phoenix, a scowl darkening his mood. ‘He’s always mad at me, whatever life we meet in.’

  ‘And why’s that?’

  ‘Because I’m still alive,’ he says, his tone strangely flat.

  I frown, bewildered by his reasoning. ‘Isn’t that a good thing?’ I offer. ‘Especially for a Soul Protector.’

  ‘Not in his eyes,’ explains Phoenix through gritted teeth. ‘Not when he lost his first-born son – my First Brother Jabali – to Tanas. I think he’d rather it had been me.’

  My hand flies to my mouth in shock. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ I notice the pain of rejection in his eyes. ‘I didn’t know you had a brother … I don’t recall him in any of my Glimmers.’

  ‘It’s OK, it was all a long time ago,’ says Phoenix sadly. He sits down on the edge of the platform, sets the fan to one side and stares off into the now-gloomy recesses of the dome.

  I join him and we sit for a moment in silence, our legs dangling over the edge. Then Phoenix continues, ‘Ever since Jabali’s passing, my Soul Father’s been angry. I guess it’s what fuels him. Keeps him going over the countless millennia to fight for First Ascendant souls and battle Tanas and his Hunters.’

  As Phoenix gazes bitterly at the lengthening shadows, I remember what Viviana told me about Goggins: He’s more of a hammer than a scalpel … I have to remind myself he only has my best interests at heart. I lay my hand gently on Phoenix’s. ‘He’s probably just afraid of losing you too,’ I suggest.

  ‘Well, he has a funny way of showing it,’ mutters Phoenix, his eyes filling.

  We lapse back into silence. As we sit side by side, hand in hand, I think of the loving and close relationship I had with my father in this life and realize how blessed I’ve been. Then I wonder if Phoenix’s difficult and tense relationship with his father may have something to do with his reluctance to open his heart to me. I pick up the taijishan and gently spread its spines, revealing the dragon and phoenix bound in their eternal dance. Twirling the fan in my fingers, I ask, ‘If Jude isn’t the reason for you holding back with me, what is?’

  Still stubbornly staring off into the thickening gloom, he replies, ‘Because kissing you would be … a mistake.’

  I snap the fan shut. ‘What?’ This answer has stung me more than the idea he might have been with Jude. ‘How on earth could it be a mistake?’

  Phoenix turns to me, his expression strangely impassive, formal like a soldier on guard. ‘Because my duty is to protect you, first and foremost.’

  ‘Yes, I know that. You’ve told me that before,’ I say, exasperated. ‘But don’t you want to kiss me?’

  ‘No – I mean yes – of course I do –’ he replies, suddenly flustered, ‘but it complicates matters. I’m here to protect you, not fall in love with you …’

  ‘What about Fiji then?’ I say, reminding him of the tranquil life I’d glimmered of us long ago on an island off the Fijian coast.

  ‘Fiji was different! Besides, you were betrothed to the son of the chief of the next village,’ he replies, his tone evasive.

  I give him a look. ‘From what I remember, that didn’t concern you when we were on Sunset Rock.’

  A smile plays on his lips. ‘OK, I admit it – there have been lives when we’ve been close … too close.’ He shakes his head, clearly disappointed with himself. ‘But just as a bodyguard should never get involved with their principal, so a Soul Protector should not cross that line with a First Ascendant.’

  ‘The two of us being together in Fiji didn’t seem to affect how well you protected me,’ I argue. ‘In fact, I felt safer.’

  Phoenix looks at me. There’s anger in his eyes, but not at me. Rather, at himself. ‘We were lucky then,’ he explains. ‘The island was remote enough in those days that the Hunters never found you. But there’ve been other times we weren’t so fortunate. You already know how close Tanas came to ritually killing you as a Cheyenne. If I hadn’t been asleep at your side that morning, I might have spotted him and his bounty hunters in time for us to escape. That’s why I’ll no longer compromise my role as your Protector. I can’t jeopardize your soul like that again.’

  ‘Well, that’s your view,’ I say, opening up the fan once more and looking at the exquisitely painted image of the entwined dragon and phoenix, ‘but I see our bond as our strength.’

  With the gentlest of touches, Phoenix turns my face towards his, his anger at himself melting into a deep tenderness for me. ‘Believe me, Genna,’ he whispers, the struggle once more playing out in his eyes, ‘I’d rather love you and die in this life than live a hundred lifetimes without loving you –’

  ‘Then why don’t you?’ I plead.

  I feel his fingers run through my hair and for a moment I believe –

  ‘WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?’ bawls a furious voice.

  45

  Startled, we both jump to our feet as Goggins strides into the Glimmer Dome, his face like thunder. Caleb limps in behind him, his lion-headed cane clicking on the floor, his wrinkled brow furrowed and his blue eyes glaring.

  ‘Chatting,’ Phoenix replies as I flick the fan shut and surreptitiously slip it into my back pocket.

  Goggins eyes him sternly. ‘You know the rules. The Glimmer Dome is only for Protectors and Warriors. Were you both glimmering?’

  ‘Yes …’ admits Phoenix, ‘but Genna is different.’

  ‘How so?’ demands Goggins, placing his ham-sized fists on his hips and squaring up to Phoenix.

  ‘She can absorb multiple Glimmers, far more than any Protector or Warrior is capable of,’ he explains proudly.

  ‘That’s no reason to risk tainting her Light,’ interjects Caleb, noting with a worried look my strained expression. But my pain has nothing to do with being exhausted from glimmering and more to do with being interrupted at an inopportune time.

  ‘But Genna shines brighter than the other First Ascendants,’ Phoenix argues. ‘Empote sees this. Even I can see her aura in this life …’ He gestures with his hand up and down my body. I examine myself but can’t see what he means. ‘But one Soul shines brighter and bolder than the rest; this one must ignite the spark when put to the Darkest test –’

  ‘Yes, all right. You don’t need to recite the Prophecy to me!’ snaps Caleb. ‘Phoenix, you are jeopardizing Genna’s Light by teaching her such things. Genna is not to come in here again.’

  ‘But what if Genna is that one true soul foretold in the Prophecy?’ persists Phoenix. ‘Surely she should gain as much knowledge and as many skills as she can if we’re to stand any chance of defeating Tanas? In all our incarnations together, Genna’s shown herself to be special. Uniquely talented. That’s why I’ve always tried to guide, encourage and train her. In fact, I believe –’

  ‘SILENCE!’ shouts Goggins, glaring at him. ‘You’ve done more than enough damage as it is.’

  ‘But what if –’

  ‘Please! No more talk of the Prophecy,’ Caleb interjects firmly. ‘I forbid you to spread such rumours!’

  Fuming, Phoenix assumes a tight-lipped scowl.

  ‘But, Caleb …’ I begin hesitantly, ‘even you have said my soul shines brighter. Not that I want to be the one in the Prophecy,’ I add quickly. ‘But why are you so unwilling to even consider the possibility?’

  ‘I’ll show you why,’ says Caleb, going over to a display stand. He rummages around in the darkness before returning with a string of prayer beads. He holds them out to me. ‘Take this Touchstone and you shall see …’

  ‘Can you see them yet, Kendra?’ asks Alhwin, peering into the sea mist billowing like dragon’s breath off the chilly Northumbrian coast. His callused hands are clenched tightly round the pitchfork he took from his father’s farm.

  I shake my head in mute answer to my Protector, my blond tresses hanging in a veil over my shimmering eyes and hiding my fearful expression. My bare feet sink into the wet sand as I hold the burning torch aloft, its flames trembling almost as much as me.

  ‘I heard these black-eyed Norsemen laid ruin to the priory on Lindisfarne,’ growls the nobleman Oswald, his sword and shield at the ready. ‘They spilt the monks’ blood like wine on the altars and trampled their bodies underfoot like dung in the streets!’

  ‘You need not fear the Incarnates in this life,’ says our priest, Geraint the Soul Seer, as he fingers his polished prayer beads. ‘For the one foretold in the Prophecy is among us.’

  He nods towards Mercia, a young girl with albino-white hair and eyes as bright as stars. Surrounded by Soul Protectors and First Ascendants, she stands upon the rise, her bare arms wide and waiting for the Incarnates’ coming. She too holds a flaming torch, blessed by Geraint himself, and chants a soft prayer as melodious as the dawn calls of a song thrush.

  ‘These devils shall not bring their Darkness upon us any more,’ Geraint promises. ‘For she is the soul to ignite the spark!’

  Out of the mist a sinister silhouette emerges, its body low to the water, its spindly limbs stretched out like spider’s legs. The creak of oars and their rhythmic swash in the waves grow louder. Then a carved dragon’s head pierces the mist and the Viking longship beaches on the shoreline.

  As its oars are stowed, we all tense up in nervous anticipation. After century upon century of running and hiding, we are making a stand against Tanas and his Hunters.

  The longship rocks ever so slightly, shifting in the sand. Then a thunderous battle cry resounds as a hundred black-eyed, axe-wielding Vikings leap from the vessel and charge up the beach towards us.

  ‘NOW!’ shouts Geraint. ‘Ignite the spark!’

  Mercia throws her hallowed torch to the ground. I do the same, along with every other First Ascendant. The oil-and-wood-filled trenches hidden under the sand burst into flame. The blaze roars up, consuming the invaders: the consecrated fire prepared in a painstaking ritual to burn away their inherent darkness, cleanse their souls and guide them back to the Light. We watch in hope and horror as the axe-wielding figures flail in the flames. Their bloodcurdling screams fill the air –