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Chapters (20)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for the Souls of Fire Series
  3. ALSO BY KERI ARTHUR
  4. Dedication
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. CHAPTER 1
  7. CHAPTER 2
  8. CHAPTER 3
  9. CHAPTER 4
  10. CHAPTER 5
  11. CHAPTER 6
  12. CHAPTER 7
  13. CHAPTER 8
  14. CHAPTER 9
  15. CHAPTER 10
  16. CHAPTER 11
  17. CHAPTER 12
  18. CHAPTER 13
  19. Excerpt from CITY OF LIGHT
  20. What’s next onyour reading list?

It felt like home.

Felt like rebirth.

“I beseech the dragon that gives life, and the mother that nurtures us all, to release the soul that resides within.”

The words were lost in the roar of the flames, but they were not unheard. The ground began to tremble, as if the earth itself were preparing for birth.

“Let the ashes of life be renewed; give him hope and bless him with love, and let him stand beside me once more. By the grace of the mother, and the will of the dragon, so mote it be.”

As the last word was said, power tore up my legs and through the rest of my body, the sheer force of it momentarily stretching my spirit to the upper limits of survivability. Specks of luminescent ash began to peel away from these overstretched strands, gently at first but rapidly increasing, until it became a storm of light and ash. As the heat of the flames, the force of the earth, and the brightness of the day reached a crescendo of power, the motes began to condense and find form, alternating between our three forms—fire, firebird, and flesh—until what the earth and the day held in their grip was the spirit I’d spent aeons with.

Rory.

I thanked the earth mother and the dragon in the sky for their generosity and the gift of life, and then reversed the spell, this time moving from south to west. The wall of energy and sparks shimmered briefly, then began to dissipate, the energy returning to the mother and the fiery sparks drifting skyward as they burned out and disappeared. Nothing was left but the bonfire and the fiery outline of the adult male curled up in a fetal position in the middle of it.

Weariness washed through me, and I all but fell to the ground. I sucked in several deep breaths to clear my head, then crossed my legs for the long wait ahead. Rory might now be reborn, but physically he was extremely weak. That was part of the reason I’d piled the bonfire so high—he would need the flames to fuel his body. He wouldn’t wake—wouldn’t even gain flesh—until the ashes in his soul had refueled enough on the heat of the fire to enable full functionality. And even then it would be days before he’d be back to his old self and fully mobile.