From the Ashes: A Psychic Visions Novel

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From the Ashes: A Psychic Visions Novel Page 10

by Dale Mayer


  His interest piqued, he followed along, figuring out what they were up to. When they disappeared into a familiar alleyway abruptly, he picked up his pace until he got there and could see down the same lane. They were gone. He frowned. Now this was so much more interesting. Something about the hunt, the chase, added to his joy.

  The fact that he might have found his sacrifice made it all that more interesting. But so much darkness existed in her soul. He wasn’t sure if she was good enough for what he needed, to serve as a proper sacrifice to appease the Elders, especially the god of the Iceland Burning Fires. The Supplier needed to find out more about why she was here at Burning Fires. He ducked into a doorway—a shortcut only he knew. There had to be some advantages to having this job.

  Chapter 10

  Phoenix walked at Rowan’s side, loving the trip away from the tourist center and was surprised when they came to a small narrow stairwell hidden in the wall of an alleyway. She looked at him and said, “Your grandmother climbs this every day?”

  He chuckled. “You haven’t met my grandmother yet.” He led the way up the stairs and, at the top, was a double door. He opened it and exposed two more doors, as if two apartments were on this level. He opened the door on the right and called out, “Grandma, we’re here.”

  “Hurry up and close the door behind you,” came the hard voice.

  He motioned Phoenix inside. “Just keep an open mind.”

  Surprised, she nodded and followed him through a hallway to a much larger open area. To the left was a kitchen, where sunshine streamed in. Phoenix smiled as they walked into a ray of particularly vibrant sunshine and stood with her face up into the sun. When she heard no voices, she opened her eyes and looked at the two people staring at her.

  One small spry woman—who couldn’t have been five feet tall and maybe eighty-five pounds—stood before them. Her gaze was intent, as if running an X-ray machine through Phoenix’s soul to see what she could find. Yet she was oddly familiar. Then Phoenix realized this was the woman she’d met on the bench the first day. That was how Rowan had known about Phoenix. His grandmother had called him, worried about Phoenix’s mental stability. And he’d likely kept her abreast of everything since.

  “Grandma, this is Phoenix. Phoenix, this is my grandmother. Her name is Manru.”

  Phoenix smiled. “Good afternoon. My name is Phoenix. Nice to meet you again.”

  Manru nodded and said, “Yes, that is indeed your name. Interesting. You have already risen from the ashes,” she announced. “Why are you here to do it again?”

  Startled, Phoenix didn’t know what to say. “I’m not sure I have risen,” she said hesitantly. “I feel like I need to do this.”

  “It’s dangerous,” the woman announced. “Just coming here was dangerous.”

  “Here to your apartment?” Phoenix asked, slowly looking for clarification. “Or coming to the Burning Fires?”

  “Coming to the Burning Fires,” Manru said. “You’ve been ignoring the danger all your life. You wanted nothing to do with that part of your world. But that danger stalks you, always. And still you refute your destiny.”

  Phoenix could feel the shivers running up and down her spine. She glanced at Rowan, who frowned at his grandmother. She didn’t know if his grandmother was deliberately scaring Phoenix or if Manru really had some weird insight into Phoenix’s life. A weird buzz surrounded the old woman too, and she had an inner strength, if the fire in her gaze was anything to go by. Yet her energy had a roughness to it Phoenix didn’t understand. It might have just been age … Or stress … Even disease … Whatever it was, Manru was unnerving, even with her small stature.

  “I want you afraid,” his grandmother snapped. “Have you so little disregard for your own life that you would ignore those things?”

  “What things?” Phoenix asked, her voice stronger than she expected it to be. “As far as I know, I’ve only tried to rise from that horribleness of my childhood.”

  “No. You felt that energy stalking you here,” she said. “You felt those eyes watching you here.”

  Phoenix winced. “Maybe,” she said. “But surely that’s my imagination.”

  “Ha! For you to say that is even more ridiculous.”

  Rowan held out his hands. “We saw her again at the tea shop, just after you said to leave her behind.”

  “Well, she’s not here in this room, so I thank you for that,” Manru said as she shoved her hands into the pockets of a bulky sweater. “She’s a very disturbed soul. She was before her death, and now she is even after her death.”

  “Guilt will do that,” Phoenix said quietly.

  His grandmother nodded. “Yes, it will. She was ready to commit suicide. Had tried several times. The death of her child was part of that.”

  “Seriously?” Rowan asked. “It was to be a murder-suicide, and she chickened out?”

  His grandmother nodded. “Exactly. But what you don’t realize is, her husband was supposed to be part of it too.”

  Rowan shook his head. “No way Pelchi would have taken part in that. He said he loved that child.”

  “But the child was damaged,” his grandmother said. “Not my words. His.”

  Phoenix gasped. “Damaged? How?”

  “Born with a chromosome imbalance. Neither parent could deal with it. Irene felt, if she could return him to God, they could try again. When she realized there was no going back, and this was her life, she decided on a murder-suicide. Her husband’s energy is confused, as if he was tempted to try too.”

  “Or was he also unhappy with his life? Was he intending to murder his child and wife and make it look like it was just her?” Phoenix asked carefully.

  Manru started to cackle. “Oh my, I do like that,” she said. “Very sharp. You understand the underbelly of society, don’t you?”

  “I’ve had more than my fair share of practical experience with them, yes,” Phoenix admitted. “People who do one thing and say another. People who like to hurt for the sake of hearing and seeing other people suffer, if only for the joy of knowing it’s not themselves suffering. People who show one face to the world and another to their inner circle.”

  Manru stopped laughing abruptly and stared shrewdly at Phoenix. “Your childhood was worse than I had thought. I didn’t look too deep. It’s not a gift to see the pain and suffering others have endured,” she said. “I usually cut it off as soon as I realize it’s there.”

  “Then I hope you cut it off early,” Phoenix said coolly. “No joy was in my childhood.”

  “And no joy will be in your future if you go to the Burning Fires. You can’t go back.”

  Phoenix shook her head. “I came all this way because I need to throw something into that fire,” she said adamantly. “Rowan is helping me to do that this afternoon. It’s important. I know nobody understands, but it’s important.”

  “It’s important all right,” her grandmother said. “Important that you don’t go.”

  “What difference does it make?” Rowan asked. “I’m confused here. I get that you see a lot of the history in her life. And I understand some things are more upsetting, and you’re deliberately avoiding looking at it. Hell, I don’t even want to see it all. But I don’t understand how any of that applies to her throwing this letter into the fire.”

  “Because sometimes people with abilities can infuse an object with their energy. To move it.”

  “Sure. Telekinesis,” he said. “The ability to move items. Not what we are dealing with here.”

  “So move it.” She turned to face Phoenix, her voice challenging. “Show him how you can move it. That you can throw it away.”

  *

  An uncomfortable silence filled the small room. “What do you want from her? From me?” Rowan asked. “I had a reason for bringing her here. But it seems like you wanted to see her anyway.”

  “You can’t go to the fires,” she spat out in a hard voice. She turned her gaze on Phoenix. “Show him.”

  “I’m not a circus
monkey,” Phoenix said, her voice harsh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about with the letter.”

  “Let me see it,” his grandmother demanded.

  Phoenix hesitated.

  “What will you do if you see it?” Rowan asked cautiously. “It’s very important to her. She needs to do this.”

  “She needs to tell us why.”

  “Because I’ve tried to destroy it before,” Phoenix burst out. “And I couldn’t.”

  “What makes you think the Burning Fires will destroy it?” his grandmother demanded. “That you would bring something like that here …”

  Phoenix stared at her in confusion. “What does it have to do with being here? It came from here. I’m just returning it. I know this thing is tainted. I know it retains pieces of his energy. It was his. I need to destroy it.”

  “Why here?”

  “Because he always talked about the Burning Fires and his life here.” Phoenix looked at Rowan, hoping he would understand. “I figured it had to be the one place where I could destroy it. Bring it back to where it came from, so I could get rid of this nightmare. Forever.”

  “Child,” Manru said, her voice soft. “You have to destroy it from inside your own mind. Getting rid of that physical letter won’t do it.”

  “It must,” Phoenix said, her eyes feverishly bright. “Don’t you understand? I’ve tried to get rid of this thing time and time again. And it always ends up back in my wallet.”

  At that, Rowan stiffened. “What?”

  Her shoulders hunched, and she seemed to shrink within herself. “Never mind,” she said wearily. “I’ll solve this on my own.” And she turned to walk back down the hallway.

  Rowan grabbed her. “Stop,” he said. “It’s not that simple.”

  “I know,” she said.

  That tone of defeat in her voice got to him. He tugged her backward. She came willingly, and he forced her into his arms, where he could hold her. He stared at his grandmother over the top of Phoenix’s head and raised an eyebrow.

  She glared at him.

  He shook his head ever-so-slightly and then said, “She needs help.”

  “She’s brought danger here,” his grandmother snapped.

  “Then help her, so she can leave.”

  Phoenix snorted as she turned to face his grandmother. “Right. That’s a good reason for helping me,” she said. “So I can leave and never come back.”

  Such bitterness and a sense of abandonment were in her tone that made Rowan ashamed of his grandmother and himself. “Look. We don’t mean it that way. But obviously we don’t want anything to bring danger to the people around here.”

  “Do you think I brought whatever it was that happened to Irene?” she challenged him, stepping farther away.

  He watched her spine stiffen but not with outrage. It was more like being beaten down time and time again and to find out the only way she could survive was to be the strongest she could be against whatever foes. He hated to see he was now a foe in her eyes. “No, of course not.” He turned to his grandmother. “What danger?”

  She shrugged. “I can’t see the details. All I can tell you is that she is dangerous.”

  “Which is a whole different story than bringing danger to the town,” he snapped. “Enough games. She’s terrified. She’s had one of the shittiest lives anybody could possibly have. If we can do anything to help her move on and to make some better life for herself, I would like to do it.”

  “Why?” his grandmother challenged. She turned that laser gaze on him, searching his eyes, his face and deep into his soul.

  He stood there and let her. “You’ve seen into the heart of me many, many times,” he said softly. “Why are you so against me helping her?”

  His grandmother seemed to collapse in on herself. And she cried softly. “You must protect yourself. She could kill you too.”

  “How?” he snapped. “Enough of these vague threats and turbulent fears. I need facts. I need something concrete I can go on.”

  “You know better than that,” she said, her voice fatiguing, her face aging in front of him.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But it’s not that bad. And you need to help us.”

  “No,” she said. “There’s nothing anybody can do to help you.” She waved at the front door. “Go,” she said. “Just leave for now. Let me think.”

  “No time for thinking,” he said sadly. “And you never did tell us about Irene.”

  She stiffened and turned to look at him. “Something’s wrong with Irene. Something’s wrong with her spirit.”

  “We know that,” Phoenix said. “She’s haunting us. She’s always there with us, as if we could have stopped her, and we didn’t, and so we’re to blame.”

  “Are you to blame?” his grandmother blurted out. “Is that how you feel?”

  Phoenix hesitated. “I don’t want to feel guilty,” she said, “but she was there. She was in our arms, and then she was up. Walking, talking and running away from us and flinging herself off the cliff.”

  “But that’s not all of it, is it?”

  Phoenix stared at Rowan and shrugged.

  “No,” he said and proceeded to explain the rest of it. About her going over the edge while they watched and then coming back.

  “That is the evil surrounding her and you at the moment,” his grandmother said quietly. “Why Irene was chosen, I don’t know, but you have also been chosen.” Her gaze eyed Phoenix. “Not only must you be careful but anybody around you must be careful too.”

  “Is that the danger?” Phoenix asked softly. “Is that the danger you feel I’m bringing? Do you think this entity who has targeted me, like he did Irene, will take Rowan as well?”

  His grandmother nodded. “That’s part of it,” she said. “But I see something else. Something much darker, and it’s coming from you. Not from whoever it is who hurt Irene, who even now captured her soul as a pet. I have less fear of that person than I do of you. Because you’re much stronger. You might not know, might not even understand, but you’re much stronger than that evil. And that makes you even more dangerous because you have no clue what you can do, and, therefore, you have zero control when this blows up. Everybody around you will go up in flames.” She turned away from Phoenix. “Lock the door on your way out.” And she disappeared into a small room off the kitchen.

  Rowan motioned at Phoenix to follow him. “Let’s go.”

  He led her out of the apartment and down the stairs. Inside he was more disturbed than he had ever been in his life.

  *

  Thinking about the young woman he’d seen, the Supplier returned to the hotel. He had to find out who she was and why she was here. He walked over to the reception desk and said his friend had been on the bus, and he’d meant to meet her in town. She was leaving tomorrow, but he wasn’t even sure if her bus was back from the Burning Fires yet. The receptionist smiled and confirmed the buses had all come in. So it would probably be hard to find somebody. Better to call right away and set up a meeting.

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” he said with a small laugh. “But I don’t think her phone will work over here. She is American.”

  “We get a lot of Americans. Sometimes they have cell phone plans that work worldwide, but most of the time it’s a problem.”

  “Right. I should have asked her for her room number first.”

  “The room numbers aren’t assigned until they get here,” the receptionist replied cheerfully. “Maybe just sit in the lobby and wait for her.”

  “She just left,” he said. “I tried to catch up with her but lost her in the crowd.”

  “Oh, you’re talking about Phoenix,” the receptionist said. “Such a fascinating name too.”

  “Right. I was thinking of the bird rising from the ashes when I heard her name,” he said. Inside he was jumping for joy at the perfect name.

  “Especially with her surname too,” the woman said in a low voice. “Phoenix Rising. Like, wow.”

  “Can you imagine
going through school with that name?” he said with a laugh.

  The woman smiled and said, “I bet it would have been rough when she was younger but perfect when she was a teenager. And, of course, Rowan is a very interesting name too.”

  “They appeared to have hit it off quite well,” he said. “We’ve been friends a long time. So, if she’s found somebody, I’m delighted for her.”

  The receptionist looked relieved, as if afraid the Supplier was here for a relationship with her and hadn’t expected she’d have hit it off with another man. The Supplier just smiled. “Not to worry,” he said. “She’s a beautiful woman.”

  “Except for the scars,” the woman behind the front desk said. “I wish I knew what that was all about. And the fact that she was there with poor Irene …”

  He gave her a smile. “Thank you. I’ll keep an eye out for her.” In fact, he planned to do a lot more than that.

  He sat down with his laptop in the lobby, punched in the hotel’s Wi-Fi and searched her name. It was incredibly unique, so the information flowed. As soon as he realized where she’d come from and what her history was, sheer joy speared through him.

  “Wow,” he murmured. “She’d be perfect. The Elders would be happy with her.” He smiled, closed his laptop and hurriedly walked outside. He headed in the direction of the woods on the other side of the overpass. He often came here because it was such a calm center, with the town on one side and the wilds on the other.

  Lots of houses, farms and small cottages dotted the landscape, but he saw mostly woods, and that was what he needed. He stood in the middle of a clearing he’d taken for his own the other day and called out, “She’s perfect. She even has the perfect name and the perfect history. She is exactly what you need. You won’t need anyone else for a long time.”

  He waited for an answer, but there wasn’t one. Disappointed, he frowned. “I will come back. But know I’m on the right trail. She is literally the best thing you could have, ever. I just have to make sure it works out.”

 

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