Forgery of the Phoenix

by Michael Angel

  “I kind of wish we followed that custom,” I admitted. “My funds have become very limited recently.”

  The Albess, still perched atop the towel rack shaped bar hung over the back of her chair, blinked, puzzled at my statement. She took a quick bite of her sugared mouse turnover. Once she swallowed, she asked, “How so?”

  “For starters, I had to replace my neighbor’s fence and landscaping. Then the Los Angeles Fire Department fined me a couple of thousand dollars for the negligent use of an outdoor grill. On top of that, I got another fine from the Department of Recreation and Parks for destruction of a half-dozen acres of ‘erosion sensitive’ plantings.”

  “You are already in enough debt here in Andeluvia,” Thea said sympathetically. “Never mind your own world.”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me as much as it might have, a couple of years ago. There’s more important things in life. Which reminds me, I’m supposed to give you something.”

  The Albess watched curiously as I set my tea cup aside, then rummaged around in my pockets until I found a little orange-brown prescription bottle. It rattled as I set it on the table next to a glistening platter of mouse liver pâté. She gave it a curious look as she continued to munch on her rodent-filled pastry.

  “It’s from Shelly,” I explained. “Sixty tablets of avian-equivalent prednisone, the anti-inflammatory drug she used when you visited my world. When you start feeling your feet and wing joints start to ache, take one with your morning serving of mouse.”

  Thea made a pleased ‘hoo!’ before asking, “Does this mean that Shelly of Richard’s Son is doing well and back at her job?”

  “It does,” I said, but Thea heard the qualification in my voice.

  “One senses that there is more to this tale.”

  I nodded. I filled her in on everything that had happened since I’d left the Parliament building for the Vale of the Seraphine. It took some time, but not as much as I expected. The Albess was a good listener, reserving judgement and only interrupting me when she didn’t understand some salient point. That helped me more than she knew.

  Some of the recent events shook me as much as Holly’s death, or Nox’s execution. I thought about those events as I absently picked at the shreds of peeling skin that still dotted my hands. It had been five days since the battle with Korr. Four since I’d taken steps to bury the remaining Seraphine under a few mountain slopes’ worth of rubble. And only two since Fitzwilliam finally got around to demanding that I attend court again to report on the appearance (or non-appearance) of the phoenix.

  “So Sirrahon has been in contact with the phoenix,” Thea mused, once I’d finished bringing her up to speed. “And there are new parties to account for. It remains to be seen how they are connected with Belladonna’s visons. Or, perhaps, that strange dream of yours.”

  “That dream of mine might not mean anything. And as for Belladonna’s visions...unless Archer is the one from ‘beyond the hearth’, then I don’t see a connection.”

  “You don’t think Grayson Archer is the mysterious ‘him’ that Hollyhock mentioned? Or the ‘shadow man’ that Raisah spoke of?”

  I let out a sigh. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that. And...it just doesn’t add up.”

  Thea fluffed out her feathers at that. “A man who sent his underling to destroy your car? A man who tortured Shelly of Richard’s Son to get information from you?”

  “That’s just it. He didn’t make the choice to send someone down to trash my car. He reminded Harrison that it’s what the client wanted. In other words, that was McClatchy’s doing, not Archer’s. And as far as what happened with Shelly...that’s what made me rethink everything about the man.”

  “The fact that he bluffed you?”

  “Yes, but there’s more to it than that. When I gave him the medallion in exchange for Shelly’s freedom, he was genuinely surprised. Like he’d never seen it before.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Albess, the man Holly met with gave her a way to destroy the Elder Council. The quartz crystals he had them steal wouldn’t have done anything to help her achieve that goal...unless he’d also given her a magical medallion to activate them.

  “It’s frustrating and hard to admit, because it puts us back at square one, but Archer isn’t our mysterious ‘him’. I’m afraid that as your chosen Hero...I’m just not doing that good a job.”

  “You returned. You kept your friends alive through the ordeal of Korr’s fire.”

  “But how can you keep putting your faith in me?” I asked plaintively. “I should have known that Korr was evil. What good am I, if I can’t identify a Creature of the Dark when they’re right in front of me?”

  The Albess bobbed her head. “What good, indeed?”

  “Maybe I need to step away from this ‘Hero’ business.”

  “Or maybe,” Thea said, with uncommon sharpness, “you should stay and learn. It is time that you know. Time to understand what this war is really about.”

  Okay, now the Albess had my attention.

  I sat straight up in my chair. “That’s right...you said that you’d tell me all you knew if I made it back from the Vale of the Seraphine.”

  I got an appropriately owlish nod in return. “It is so strange, this conversation. There you are, feeling unworthy of being a Hero. And here I am, feeling unworthy of your loyalty.”

  My mind flashed to Thea’s words to me, back when I’d returned her to Parliament from the clutches of the Noctua.

  What I know is shameful, for both me and the Hoohan. I cannot face it, not yet, not after all I have been through.

  “It is not what I have done,” Thea continued, “but what my people have done, so far back in the past that it has been lost to all but a few. I learned of it...and the story of the Old War, from the Albess that came before me. In that way, only a select number of the Hoohan know what I must tell you.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Thea reached behind her chair with a talon and came up with a freshly dipped quill pen. She leaned forward and with a few strokes, drew a symbol on the tablecloth. Then she looked at me expectantly.

  “This looks familiar,” I said hesitantly. “But I don’t know what it means.”

  The Albess gave me a firm, steady look. “It is the symbol for my people, the Hoohan. It looks familiar to you, because you have seen it before. When you next look at the Codex, you will find it...under the listings for the Creatures of the Dark.”

  For a moment, all I could do was stare uncomprehendingly.

  My next words were equally intelligent.

  “But you...how could...”

  “Yes?”

  “How could the owls be on the side of Darkness? How could they be on the side of something evil, like Sirrahon? Or the Old Man of the Mountain?”

  “Because this war is not about ‘good’ and ‘evil’,” Thea explained patiently. “For those terms shift depending on which creatures you talk to. Jett was correct when she said that the Seraphine had done no wrong. From their point of view, any action was justified to ensure the return and survival of their people. Even ones you might consider ‘evil’.”

  I raised my hand as if to push the idea away. My voice rose even as I tried to keep my emotions under control. I wasn’t doing a good job of that, either.

  “Wasn’t it evil for Korr to try and incinerate us?” I demanded. “Wasn’t it evil for Raisah to execute the owls in your Parliament?”

  “I shall not contest that,” Thea said quietly. “But I must ask a question of you in turn. Was it not evil for the Lead Does of the Fayleene to sacrifice Liam’s life in exchange for their safety? Was it not evil for Belladonna to smash Hollyhock’s eggs?”

  “I...”

  “Because if you feel so,” she continued inexorably, “then remember that each of those acts was committed by a Creature of the Light. That each of those acts was committed by a being you have chosen to ally yourself with.”

  My hand dropped. There was
nothing else I could say.

  “Shall I go on?” Thea asked. “If you have accepted what I have said, do you wish to learn more?”

  Mutely, I nodded.

  “Three thousand years ago, a select group of peoples dominated Andeluvia. The dragons, the demons, the griffins, the fayleene, and the like. They came to blows, and ultimately ended up on one of two opposing sides because of a disagreement over which vision of the world would come to pass.

  “My Albess told me that the so-called ‘Creatures of the Dark’ were those who supported chaos and disorder. I disagree. I believe that they simply didn’t value what we today call ‘civilization’. The idea of cities, laws, plans, and the like repulsed them. It hindered the ability of the strongest – the dragons and the phoenix – to take what they wanted. It hindered the demons’ desire to feed off the souls of the living. And it hindered the Hoohan from hunting and killing prey where they wished.

  “On the other hand, the ‘Creatures of the Light’ respected order, boundaries, and civilization. What those of the Dark dismissed as ‘living in a hive’ was embraced by the Light as accepting laws in exchange for dwelling and working more closely together. Think of it as receiving the benefits of settled living in exchange for giving up the freedom to take, based solely on one’s strength.”

  “And during the war...the owls switched sides?” I asked tentatively.

  Thea shook her head. “I asked my predecessor if we had seen the error of our ways. But no. The Hoohan merely decided that they did not want to be put to sleep ‘in the earth’, the way that the Seraphine, the demons, and the dragons had gone. We owls saw the benefits of civilized life – so long as we were always at the top, directing things.”

  “That’s why the Hoohan became the ones who wrote the laws,” I said, finally understanding. “To be the ones in control of the money. Raisah must have known this. It’s why she was able to cause such havoc for Fitzwilliam.”

  “Raisah knew. Most of those in the Noctua know our sordid past. They knew that when the Hoohan changed, we became the guardians, the champions of civilization and the order that flows from it.”

  “They knew...and many followed Raisah anyway?”

  Thea paced back-and-forth upon her perch as she spoke. “That is why I opposed her. To keep my people from returning to the side of the Dark. It is why she had to remove me. And it is why your rescuing me saved not only one old hen, but all the Hoohan from being drawn back into howling barbarism!”

  The Albess’ last words rang in the air. All was still for a moment.

  “You’ve given me a lot to digest,” I said. “But thank you for telling me everything. For being honest about the past.”

  “I only hope the past is dead and gone.” Thea made a motion as if to tuck her head under her Dreamsicle-colored wing. “I have dreaded the day of telling you the truth...for fear that you might shun me from now on.”

  I let out a breath and got to my feet. I felt a surge of affection for Thea, who all alone had moved to counter the threats she’d seen. Even with her age, her isolation, and her infirmities, she was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Albess,” I said honestly. “I once said that I saw you as a ‘Hand of Light’ moving to counter the darkness. Nothing you’ve told me has changed my mind. I’ve come to think of you...as my mentor. And a friend.”

  Thea puffed up her chest feathers and let out a series of joyful ‘hoos!’. “Do go and report to King Fitzwilliam,” she urged. “Before you make an old hen blush to the base of her quills!”

  I bowed and turned to leave.

  The noise of my footsteps on the Parliament floor was muffled by the rugs and tapestries that hung in all corners of the giant room. It wasn’t until I’d shown myself out and closed the huge iron-and-oak door behind me that my steps began to patter on bare flagstone or crunch through crusts of snow.

  The royal page that had last conveyed me to the throne room crossed the frozen courtyard at a run. His blond Dutch-boy haircut fell across his eyes as he skidded to a halt, trying to catch his breath. I waited patiently until he could gasp out his message.

  “His Majesty...convening the royal court...He requests...the presence...of Dame Chrissie.”

  “Right,” I said, and I gave the page a little more time to stop wheezing before I set off with him at my side. “I was already on my way, but thanks. You know, one of these days I’m just going to have to get that damned chair of mine fixed. It’s literally starting to become a pain in my rear.”

  “Um...maybe I could get it fixed for you?” the page ventured.

  I stopped in mid-stride. “How do you figure that?”

  “No disrespect meant, Dame Chrissie! It’s just that...well, my father is a carpenter. He fixes people’s furniture all the time.”

  “Disrespect?” I laughed, incredulous. “I’d be grateful! What’s your name?”

  “Per...Percival. The other pages call me ‘Percy’.”

  I considered. “Do you like ‘Percy’?”

  He shyly shook his head.

  “Neither do I. You’re ‘Percival’ from now on. If any of the other pages say otherwise, tell them that I’m not going to be happy. And if I’m not happy, do you know what that means?”

  He grinned. “It means they’ll have to hunt for their chopped-off members in the royal garden!”

  “Well...that’s not what I was driving at, but I suppose it’ll do.”

  The young page beamed. “Oh, thank you, Dame Chrissie! This means a great deal. Among the pages, it’s considered a real honor to be the one who waits on you.”

  “It is?” I asked. “Why?”

  “Because you’re so strong now!” he burbled. “I mean, you always were, and always very pretty too, but even more now!”

  “Even more what? Strong, or pretty?”

  “Um...both?”

  For the first time in a while, I truly laughed. “I like your style, kid. You think quickly on your feet.”

  The clink of armor and the tread of booted feet sounded along the path towards the palace. A breeze kicked up the snow in a flurry, subsiding only as a pair of knights in badly scored and dimpled armor strode up. The two solemnly removed their helmets and made shallow bows to me. One had a scarred face and a short black beard. The other was a somewhat handsome redhead. Somewhat handsome, because his nose had been recently broken and was now held in place with a blood-encrusted nasal splint.

  “Dame Chrissie!” declared the scarred man. “I am Sir Ramha, and this is Sir Tostig. We are the victors of the scrum which took place upon this ground not more than three nights hence.”

  Suddenly, I had that sinking feeling again.

  “As the last two knights standing,” Sir Tostig said, in a slightly stuffy-headed voice, “We demand that you choose which of us shall fight in the Spring Tournament as your favored champion!”

  “Guys, look,” I said. “This is pointless. I’m already in trouble with my liege lord because of this kind of stuff. Give it a rest, will you?”

  “We say nay! Choose which of us shall be your champion, else we shall settle the issue with a fight to the death!”

  Now this was a fine way to start the day. If one of these two bozos ended up on an autopsy slab, I was going to be in serious trouble. Fitzwilliam might even reverse his decision to give me extra time to take care of the mountain of debt on my plate.

  I had to choose. There was simply no other way.

  But there always is, my mind reminded me.

  Of course. The solution, the third way, was right in front of me.

  Or, to be exact, right next to me.

  “Gentlemen, stand down,” I ordered. “I have already made my choice. I have decided that Sir Percival here shall be my Champion in the Spring Tournament!”

  “What?” Sir Ramha sputtered. “That mere stripling?”

  “If you wish to contest it, be my guest,” I said with a shrug. “Of course, you might want to consider what that would do to your honor and reputation. Once it g
ot out that you beat up a boy who’s just learned how to shave…”

  The two knights exchanged glances. One muttered a curse, and the other spat into the snow. They turned around and shuffled off towards the barracks, leaving us alone in the courtyard.

  “Dame Chrissie…” Percival stammered. “I...there’s no way...I don’t even know how to shave!”

  “Don’t worry about it, kid. By the time the tournament comes around, I’ll figure out a way to resolve things one way or another.”

  “But...what if I have to fight? I can’t even lift a sword yet!”

  I considered that. “Well, if it comes to that, I guess you’ll have to grow stronger.”

  “Really?”

  I gave him my most encouraging smile.

  “You can get stronger if you really need to,” I said. “I know I certainly have.”

  I put my hand on Percival’s shoulder as we walked side by side towards the palace, our feet crunching through the newly fallen snow.

  The End

  # # #

  Thanks for Reading!

  Hi again, and I hope you enjoyed Forgery of the Phoenix.

  Some of the fun for me this time was speculating on how a race of flame-creatures might ‘work’ in everything from communication to consumption of energy. There’s also a great number of things for readers to speculate about in this book: the meaning of Dayna’s dream-visions, the nature of the Old War, and the intriguing hints of the past dropped by the Seraphine themselves.

  We’ll be seeing how ‘Dame Chrissie’ continues to handle things in Book Six, Assault in the Wizard Degree, coming in Late October or Early November 2016.

  I enjoy feedback, and you’re the one who keeps me coming back to the keyboard to turn inspiration and perspiration into stories.

  So can I ask you a favor again?

  If you liked this book, I’d truly appreciate a review on Amazon. Even if you’ve given a good review of an earlier story, these make a difference. These days, readers like you have tremendous influence in making (or un-making) a book, especially if it’s further along in a series.