Nahad Hari found strong arguments to persuade the villagers. Threatened with the lives of their families, all shepherds agreed to obey his orders. They set off in a hassle. When Nahad Hari freed Shadow, Belrigan managed to whisper to her:

"Be careful. The phoenix is dangerous."

Shadow thanked him shortly.

"Don't help them, my girl!” exclaimed Gerome. ”You will regret this!"

The older villagers, Belrigan and his companions, were left in the cave guarded by several soldiers. Shephards were leading the way. The beginning of their journey was not difficult at all. Deftly bending around small crevices and waving between thorny bushes, the path took them up the gentle slope. Nahad Hari looked determined and sinister as if he was going to get the phoenix or die. Probably he was also going to kill anyone who would attempt to flee. Armed with a thunderer, ready to shoot, he was following the shepherds. The masked man walked next. He told Shadow to stay close to him, which she obeyed without hesitation, starting to feel some binding to that mysterious stranger without any logical reason. He put aside his upper robes and was left in a more practical outfit—clearly made by teheni—that outlined his elegant silhouette and did not hinder him on the mountain walk. He did not take off the mask, though. Shadow glanced at him as they walked, wondering why he preferred to keep it, even if the mask partially covered his sight.

A dozen soldiers were following them, carrying a few oil lamps and four long torches that looked like thick spears and could last at least an hour each. It was almost dark when they reached a small intermediate camp with some equipment and a few more soldiers guarding it. The center was hidden behind the rocks, while the valley lay below, concealed in darkness.

After they had a short break and refilled their bellies with dried food and water, Nahad Har announced his simple plan:

”Today or never!”

Shadow did not fully recover from the poison. Walking uphill made her feel weak, while the cold wind took away all the warmth.

All the young hunters must have already returned to the camp by now, Shadow thought. And she, too, must have been there, standing before her father, listening with awe as he announced her new name. With the help of the night, could she run from Nahad Hari? The darkness grew thicker with every moment, and her chances of escaping grew too, yet Shadow did not want to risk it. No. Even if there was the slightest possibility of being shot in her back while trying to flee… Such an end looked far worse than death from the stone poison. Besides, she was afraid to return to the gates of death soon after she was luckily saved.

Some soldiers stayed in the camp while the rest continued their journey. Phoenix Peak wasn't nearly as high or hard to climb as Chipped Mountain. During the daytime, Shadow would probably get up to its top and descend back in half a day. However, now, their quest seemed an impossible undertaking. It was not the lamps but the moon that made it realizable. Taus was almost full today. Rising above the hills on the east, it illuminated the slope and path before them. Lightened with a cold moonlight, this place looked surreal. Shadow felt herself almost like in a dream that she saw being on the edge of death. The fear was grabbing her by the neck, stopping her breath. It was getting extreme in the silence, so Shadow felt relieved each time someone’s voice broke it, even if it was the loud swearing of Nahad Hari.

None of the shepherds knew the exact way to the nest, but all of them agreed that it was not on the top of the mountain but somewhere halfway up, at the foot of the high rocks that topped the summit.

The ascend became noticeably steeper; there were no more animal paths, only cold and sharp rocks around them. Nahad Hari was getting angrier and angrier with every passing moment. Soon, anger turned into rage, and he ordered to split into several search parties.

”The one who finds the phoenix must bring the bird back to the camp!”

"You will go with me," said the masked man to Shadow. ”Take this; you will need it to carry the bird.”

One of the soldiers gave Shadow a cloth bag made to be worn on one's back. Then, the masked man explained to her and the shepherds how to handle the magic bird.

”The sleeping phoenix looks like a big stone egg. You will recognize it by its warmth and glow. Don’t try to hold it with your hands. Wrap the phoenix in the cloth.”

Shadow put the bag on the shoulder, saying nothing.

Accompanied by one of the soldiers, they continued their way. On the steep slope, the masked man began to lag behind her. It looked like he had some injury, maybe old, that did not prevent him from walking up the footpath but turned the climbing into a difficult task. Shadow also had never before climbed the rocks. Yes, the Alder's Halls stood on a high river slope, and she walked it up many times. But the ground on the river slope was soft, helping her climb. The rock, on the contrary, was cold, dead, and predatory. It is only waiting for a good moment to hit her with a sharp ledge and scratch her hands. It was only pretending to be unshakable and firm but instead betraying her and falling apart in the most inopportune moment. Grabbing on the crumbling stones, scrabbling at the rock, nearly clinging to it with her teeth, desperately searching for support, Shadow crawled along narrow ledges.

Midnight approached. The Taus was already high, and his heavenly wife Fel’ rose above the mountains on the other side of the horizon and hurried towards him.

”It is somewhere near,” whispered the masked man the next time they made a stop. ”The stairs… we are at its foot… probably up… the rocks are warmer here.”

He searched for something in the darkness, but Shadow could not understand his mumbling.

He told her not to wait for him anymore if he fell behind, and that was what she did. But she had to stop for the rest when she passed another hard part anyway. She sat on a short ledge, feeling completely exhausted. Two moons met in the sky and started their descent. No one, for some reason, was climbing after her. Shadow felt tired and cold, lonely and empty. The was nowhere to hide from the wind. She looked down but saw no lights there. Probably others were quite far. In the surrounding silence, there were no more voices, no singing of night birds, not even buzzing of insects, only the wind howled sadly, rising from the valley. Or was it not only the wind? Shadow seemed to hear the wolves’ voices from below for a moment.

A sudden warm breath of wind reached her in that empty darkness. It was like a remembrance of the sunlight resting somewhere near. Trembling from coldness and tiredness, Shadow reached out for it. She got over a few rocks and found herself on the edge of what seemed to be a small crater melted down right in the stone. Sleeping right in the middle of it was the phoenix. Shadow froze, looking at this gloomy cradle of the magical bird.

No one ever did this. No one killed a phoenix for their Ascension. Which name would they give her if she were the first? Something terrible and frightening, for example, the Black Mist Eclipsing the Sun? Or maybe inspiring and heroic, like the Bright Star Piercing Mist of Night?

So it is not the honor or fear but the ambition that brought me here? she thought, astonished. Nonsense! I must not even think of it.

The uneven rim of the ditch was sharp and hot. The stone floor of the nest, on the contrary, was cold. Surprised by this, Shadow carefully stepped in. The crater was about thirty feet in diameter. It was covered by a thin layer of ash and filled with an awful smell of burned flesh and fur.

The stone was cold, yet Shadow could feel the warmth. Strange heat, unsensible to the skin, was spilled in the air. It was coming from the center of the nest and heating Shadow’s body from the inside. Her heart started to beat stronger.

Shadow made a few steps towards the phoenix.

The heat grew stronger. A pleasant warm stream filled her body. The fatigue faded as if she had just woken up from a long sleep.

Covering himself with his wings, petrified, the phoenix slept in the center of his nest, surrounded by a pile of blackened bones and charred remains of its prey. The smell here should have become unbearable, but Shadow stopped feeling it.

The warm stream circulating through her veins became so intense now that all her feelings had dissolved in it. Shadow did not feel tired anymore. She felt no pain from scratches and bumps, no hunger. Instead, she started to feel a light… not with her eyes, not even her skin but somehow else. The light was coming from the phoenix egg and piercing her right through. To be filled with it seemed an honor. To be burned in it seemed a pleasure.

So, that’s what the phoenix looks like Shadow thought. But how are these people going to tame this energy?

She knew a way to kill this bird, though. Hunters of the Crimson Alder examined a few phoenixes that lived near the Windwarden. Fire Storm killed one of them. He waited next to the nest until the phoenix woke up and attacked right after before the magical bird became strong enough to evoke fire. Probably there was a way to crack the stone egg too. But it was too hard for a simple hammer.

What does it feel like when the soul burns so hard that the body cannot hold this flame and flares up in the night like a bright torch? How could she, the unknown Gray Shadow, hope to survive meeting with this eternal flame?

It was no longer a pleasant warmth but a sultry withering heat that she felt while kneeling to the phoenix. It was of the size of a human head, maybe a little smaller, and fit perfectly in the bag.

The heat now was not only dissolving her feeling but also her thoughts. It became hard to concentrate or even remember things. Why didn’t the masked man warn her about it? Later, Shadow could not recall how she got out of the nest or started her descent. It was not easier than climbing up, but Shadow, being revitalized, went down much quicker. She stopped only when she almost stumbled over someone’s boots. It took her a few moments to realize that there was a man lying between the rocks. He was unconscious or maybe dead.