by Laura Bickle
“The important thing is stopping the fire. I just hope the phoenix will find it worthwhile.” Maria wrapped the teapot back up in the paper and put it into her bag. “But if it likes silver, then that’s okay, too.”
“I hope so,” Nine agreed.
Nine was glad for the company on this trip, but even gladder for the ride.
Maria took the Blazer as far into Yellowstone as she dared on paved roads. She pulled over to consult a map, tapping a pencil against it. “I know that Mike and his coworkers have blocked off civilian access to the park here, here, and here.” She made X’s on the map, crossing out access roads. “But I think we can get close if we go here . . .” She traced a road marked Administrative Road that ran parallel to one of the checkpoints. “And then we can go on foot this way.” She made squiggly lines through some flat land that looked like a plateau to Nine. “How do you think we can get the phoenix’s attention without getting crispy?”
“I’m not really sure,” Nine admitted. Her plan was seeming less certain all the time. “When I first saw it, it tended to fly near the moving edge of the fire. I had hoped that maybe we could advance from the area that was already burned, rather than approaching it from an area of fresh fuel and active burning. Upwind of it.”
“That makes sense,” Maria said. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and fiddled with it. “It looks like the main fire is mostly moving from north to south, and the fire line is near here.” She scribbled a heavy line on the map. “The wind is moderate today, so we might be able to get behind it here, if we come down from the northwest side.” She pointed back to the flat land that had already been destroyed. “Going from the back end also keeps us away from any firefighters, which is good.”
Nine nodded. This way would have taken her a lot of time on foot, but it was so much faster to drive. “Whatever we can do to avoid interference from Mike’s people is best.” The forest man meant well, but Nine knew he was out of his depth with a creature such as this.
Maria started the engine up again, and they wound through the back roads, up to the spot she indicated on the map. They passed green fields of grass, tickled by a northern wind. The mountains were hidden by deep smoke, and the obscured sun made it difficult to determine direction. Maria kept the windows closed and turned on the weak air-conditioning. Eventually, they pulled off at the side of the road before a field. Nine could not see more than two hundred feet ahead of them.
Maria consulted her phone. It showed a compass and a diagram of their location. Nine was always startled by the magical amount of information that seemed to come from the little plastic boxes.
“We won’t get too far lost with this,” Maria said, stuffing the map and the phone into her pocket.
Nine moved to open her door.
“Wait,” Maria said. She rifled around in her pack and pulled out a couple of squares of fabric. She poured water on them from the canteen, soaking them, and tied one around her nose and the lower half of her face. She reached for Nine to tie one on her.
“You look like a bandit,” Nine said as the cool fabric slipped over her nose.
“These bandannas will filter out a little of the smoke,” Maria said. “There. Now we’re ready.”
Nine nodded and jumped out of the SUV to the ground.
It was hot here, much hotter than it should have been in summer. Arid air slid over Nine’s face as she waded into the grass. Maria was at her elbow, consulting her phone, and they entered a twilight world of swishing grass, smoke, and oppressive silence.
The grass wilted and then blackened. The fire had moved through this place like a scalding river. Nine could feel the warmth of the earth through the soles of her shoes as they walked, moving into the greyness. Her eyes watered and she wiped at them with the edge of her bandanna. Ash stained her pants up to her knees. The flames had razed this place utterly. It was identical to the ruin she’d seen as a little girl. She felt as helpless now as she had then. What made her think she could fight against such a powerful creature and win? She was no shaman.
Maria’s hand clamped down on Nine’s shoulder. “Look!” she hissed, pointing to the sky.
A streak of orange reached down from the sooty sky and landed on a lone, blackened pine tree. Sparks showered down from where it lit, the tree crackling. The orange glow resolved into a flickering figure that was roughly birdlike, the size of an eagle—wings etched of flame, a curved beak, and eyes as black as basalt. The air shimmered around it in a heat haze, as if even the very air feared it.
“It’s beautiful,” Maria whispered.
Nine sucked in her breath. It was beautiful, but it was also awful. And it was here. It had come.
She reached for her pack and opened it. She took a fistful of the crystals and tossed them, one by one, into the blackened field. They bounced and landed on the dark ground. They glittered spectacularly, reflecting the orange sunlike glow of the phoenix.
The firebird turned its head and gazed at the ground. In an exhalation of shimmeringly hot air, it swept down from the tree in a flurry of sparks. It landed near the most distant stone, turning its head right and left as it gazed upon the shiny rock. Perhaps it saw its reflection in the facets and could be lured by its own magnificent reflection.
Nine tossed out another stone, then another. The phoenix, crackling, walked toward one and then another, chipping at one with its beak and then picking up another with its talons. It held it and stared at the rock, unblinking.
“It can’t melt it,” Maria whispered.
It occurred to Nine then that perhaps the firebird had encountered something that it couldn’t destroy. At least, not easily. And maybe that was worth something. Nine emptied her pack, slowly, casting the stones out as if they were corn before a duck. The phoenix approached warily. Where it walked, its footprints singed deep into the earth and generated new flames that quickly guttered out. It got within twenty feet of the women.
The heat was unbearable. It shimmered off the bird in waves. Sweat soaked Nine’s clothes, running into her eyes. The soles of her shoes felt sticky, and she forced herself to take deeper breaths. Her heart hammered, and she felt a bit dizzy, this close to the creature that had once destroyed all she held dear.
Maria slowly squatted and took out the teapot from her bag. She set it on its side and rolled it toward the phoenix.
The bird turned its head to peer at it. Maybe it saw its reflection in the sheen. It reached out to touch the shiny thing, but the silver warped under its touch. It slowly melted, quickly dissolving into a glistening puddle on the ground. The bird peered into the metallic silver, tapping at it with its talons. It must be a terrible thing, Nine thought, to destroy everything one touched. She felt a pang of sympathy for the bird. It would never know the touch of another living thing. It was as the shaman had said all those years ago.
It was alone.
Nine summoned her courage and slowly walked toward the bird. She was out of stones, and so she reached into her pocket for the pouch containing Maria’s necklace. She pulled it out and tied it around her neck, approaching the bird with open hands. Her pulse hammered against the smooth beads.
“Take me,” she whispered. “Take me like you did the shaman, and sleep for a hundred years.”
“Nine, no,” Maria hissed behind her, but Nine’s gaze was fixed on the churning bird, the only light in this blackened world. This was the best way she could serve her pack, she knew. If the phoenix took her, they would be safe. It was the one thing she could do for them now.
She had gotten within ten feet of the bird. She felt her skin blistering in response to the heat, her arms open and exposed. The bird was still, regarding her. It took a step forward, and Nine’s heart leaped. It would take her, and this would all be over, all of it: the danger to the pack, the spreading fire that threatened the land, and Nine’s own suffering.
Instead of wrapping its wings around her, though, the bird opened its beak and shrieked, a deafening sound like the crackle of light
ning where it struck. Nine gasped and fell to her knees, clasping her hands over her ears.
The phoenix pumped its wings, once, twice, and swept past her. She felt searing heat along her right side, and the bird streaked away, into the ruins of the sky.
“Nine!” Maria was beside her, pouring water on her burning sleeve and pants. “What were you trying to do?” Fury lit in her voice.
“I thought . . .” There was no point in voicing the thought. Maria knew, and the bird had rejected her.
“Let’s get back to the truck.” Maria hauled Nine to her feet, and they stumbled back the way they’d come, into the black field that slowly turned green. The roar in Nine’s ears receded to silence.
The silence lasted for a good twenty minutes. Nine knew that Maria was furious. But she felt the ache of rejection more deeply than that, the separation from all the things that truly mattered.
Nine paused, feeling a vibration in the ground. She bent down, her fingers brushing the tops of the dry grasses. The grasses shook and shivered, the seeds clattering against each other like the warning rattle of a snake.
“What is it?” Maria asked.
Nine’s brow furrowed. “Trouble. We have to get back to your vehicle. Now.”
They began to run, plunging toward the road and the safety of the car. The vibration that Nine felt became a sound of distant thunder. It churned and rolled, coming closer and closer.
Nine glanced back. Figures emerged from the mist into the smoke-choked grass. These shadows were dark, heavy—and so much faster than they were.
“Buffalo!” she shrieked.
She shoved Maria forward. Up ahead, she could make out the outline of the green vehicle against the road, but it was still a good quarter mile distant.
And the buffalo were fast. Too fast. A buffalo thundered ahead of her, the first of the herd. She put her head down and ran for all she was worth. Another came from her right side.
“Go left!” she screamed at Maria.
Maria wove left, but another buffalo got so close that Nine could feel its fur brushing against her. They were almost to the truck, just a dozen more yards . . .
The herd surrounded them, panicked, stampeding toward the road. Maria stumbled. Nine caught her and hauled her up, slamming against the Blazer. Maria jammed her keys in the passenger-side lock, opened the door, and the women piled inside.
Buffalo swirled around them. One slammed against the front fender, turning the vehicle on the shoulder of the road. Another smacked against the bumper, pushing them forward. Glass shattered.
Maria pushed Nine down to the floorboards and covered her with her body. Nine could hear snuffling, snorting, slams, and the tinkle of glass outside the vehicle. It was like being a grasshopper in a hailstorm, huddling under a leaf.
In moments, the assault receded as quickly as it had come. Maria lifted her head, and Nine squirmed up. The women climbed up into the seats.
The vehicle was diagonal on the road, its bumper pressed against a tree trunk. Red and yellow glass glittered on the pavement.
A buffalo stood on the road before them, staring them down with liquid brown eyes.
Nine raised her fingers and waggled them in a wave.
The buffalo snorted and trotted off to join its fellows.
“Well, shit,” Maria said, leaning back into the driver’s seat. Her bandanna was slung around her neck, and her neatly braided hair was hanging askew on her head like a hat.
“I’m sorry,” Nine said. “I’m sorry they broke your vehicle.”
Maria shook her head. “Don’t be sorry for that. I know guys who work on cars and the location of a really good junkyard. What you should be sorry about is flinging yourself in front of that bird.”
Nine gazed at her scraped and blackened hands.
“Was that the plan from the start? To feed yourself to the bird and hope that sated it?”
Nine hung her head guiltily. “I thought . . . I thought I could stop it.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Maria reached over and embraced her. Nine snuffled against her shoulder until the tears dried up. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Maria smoothed her hair. “Now. Are you hurt?” Her fingers lingered on Nine’s brow, which felt tight and hot, like it had been singed.
Nine looked down at her arm. The skin was red and blistering. Some of the blisters had already broken and were oozing. The black of her hands rubbed off on her pants. “Not badly. And you?”
Maria shook her head. “Just a twisted ankle and sore pride. I mean . . . we got our asses kicked by buffalo.”
“Well. The world is as it should be, then.”
Maria grinned and scooted back to the driver’s seat. She jammed the key in the ignition and cranked over the engine. They drove slowly to the main road. Something was rattling in both the front and back end of the vehicle. Nine knew nothing of machines, but it didn’t sound good.
When they reached the main road, Nine’s heart sank when she saw a vehicle blocking the way. Maria swore and rolled down her window when she reached it. She was muttering under her breath, “Please don’t let it be the world’s biggest Boy Scout, because I am not in the mood.”
A familiar figure walked out from behind the vehicle. Mike. He was no longer dressed in his familiar ranger uniform, but in a thick jumpsuit with shiny tape on the chest. He looked as if he was sweltering in the costume, the neckline soaked with sweat. On the top of his head was perched a curious plastic contraption that looked like ears. Nine sank down in the seat. Maria pressed her forehead to the steering wheel and said: “Shit.”
Mike walked up to the open window. “Should I even ask what you ladies are doing out here? And what happened to your truck?” he asked, eyeing the bumper.
Maria groaned. “You have a knack for being in the exact wrong place at the exact right time, you know that?”
Mike leaned on her door. “Yeah. It’s a gift. Actually”—he tapped his radio—“I got a report that a vehicle matching your Blazer’s description was spotted by some firefighters. I told them I’d take care of it.”
“Well. We ran into some car trouble.”
“I see that.”
“Car trouble that was about eight hundred pounds. A few dozen of them.”
“That sounds . . . suboptimal.” Mike went to squat at the front of the car. “Your bumper’s hanging on by a thread.”
Maria hopped out of the truck to look, and Nine went, too. Maria was doing her best to hide her limp. Mike and Maria, after a little bit of discussion, decided to pull the bumper off and throw it in the backseat. Mike climbed under the car to check something called a radiator. He emerged covered in grease, but nodded.
“You should be safe to drive back to the reservation,” he said, wiping his hands on his pants. “That back mud flap rattling won’t hurt anything. But you’re gonna need to get a lot of work to get it roadworthy again.”
Nine smiled. Mike, she could see, was a problem solver. Happiest to have a problem he could fix. Too bad he couldn’t fix any of hers. Her shoulders sagged, and she looked toward the horizon.
Mike’s attention flickered to Nine. “How the heck did you get burned? This area is supposed to be cold. Coldish.”
Maria answered before Nine could. “She got too close to a hot spot.”
Mike frowned. “Let me get a first-aid kit.”
Nine gratefully submitted to Mike cleaning her forehead and arm with water-soaked cotton and a divinely cooling ointment on her blisters. She reached forward and touched the black plastic ears perched on top of his head. “What are those?”
“Smoke goggles,” Mike said, pulling them over his eyes to show her. They looked very similar to Maria’s sunglasses. “They’re hot as hell, but it beats not being able to see anything.”
“May I try them on?” Nine asked.
“Sure.” He took the goggles off and placed them over her head, tugging them down over her hair, and adjusting the strap so that it covered her eyes. The world was
much darker and amber tinted, but it seemed that the glasses kept much of the air out. She put her uninjured hand in front of her face and wiggled her fingers. They interfered a bit with her depth perception, but she wished she’d had something like this when confronting the firebird.
Mike wrapped Nine’s arm with a clean white bandage. “You’ll want to get that looked at by an urgent care. There’s one still open at the county seat. You know it?” he asked Maria.
Maria nodded.
“And have them check out that ankle sprain you’re hiding.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“You got past me. I would like to know what the hell you ladies thought you were doing back there.” Mike’s eyebrows crawled up his head.
Maria’s mouth flattened, and she said nothing.
“I went to make offerings to the phoenix,” Nine blurted, tugging the goggles up on the top of her head.
“You what?” Mike blinked at her.
“I went to make offerings to the fire spirit to placate it. Maria went after me.” It was the truth. It sounded crazy, she knew. But better that Mike thought she was insane than for him to question Maria.
Mike opened his mouth and closed it. Then, he said: “That is a colossally bad idea . . .”
The radio at his shoulder chirped, and Nine jumped. Mike pressed a button on it and answered: “This is Ranger Hollander. Repeat.”
The radio squawked, and Nine heard: “. . . wind changed, and there’s a baby magpie heading south now. We’re pulling out. What’s your twenty?”
“Route 287, a half mile south of Lewis Falls. Over.”
“Heading to your location for extraction.”
“Ten-four. How many?”
There was a pause. “We were ten. Magpie got two. We’re now eight.”
“Shit.” Mike rubbed his face with his palm. Mike never swore. Into the radio he said: “Ten-four. Waiting for your arrival.”
“What happened?” Maria asked.
“A group of firefighters was just ahead of the fire line. The wind changed, and it sounds like they got into trouble. They lost two, and I’m expecting injuries.”