Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame

by E. C. Farrell

I reach the Tribunal Building quickly, landing behind a set of thick bushes to shift back into my human form, then sprinting toward the front. In theory, I could attempt to get in a window, but chances are they have them magically shielded. Better off trying to get in through the front door.

  Slowing as I reach the marble steps, I study the security situation around the entrance. The last thing I want is to get held up by some low-level guard with a superiority complex. Especially if Iris isn’t even inside.

  Two suits stand on either end of the doors. No signs of what brand of paranormal they might be. Either they’re wearing excellent charms, or they don’t have any outward tells. Neither are carrying guns either. Which means they trust their magic or physical might more than a human weapon.

  This is going to take a bit of savvy and a whole lot of calm.

  Smoothing my hands over my shirt — and hoping to the Fates I don’t have too much ash on my face — I pull my ID out of the backpack and march straight up to the front doors. “Bounty Hunter Fee Vein here to see Iris Smith,” I say, flashing the card. “Here to speak with her about a case.”

  Both guards turn their heads to look at each other ever so slightly. My pulse kicks up a notch. Though looked down on, bounty hunters are still official positions that earn a small amount of respect. In theory, this should get me inside, even if Yaritza beat us here.

  The taller of the two — a guy whose bushy brows threaten to overtake the top of his aviators — extends a hand. I slip my ID into it, a vein in my neck pounding, and scan the sidewalk with my peripherals. Impatience lights up my muscles. They tense to run, to fight, to do anything necessary to get to Iris and convince her to call off her bounty on Max.

  I press the bottoms of my shoes into the ground to keep from swaying between my feet as the guard studies my ID. Wind whips through my hair. Sweat gathers on my palms and drips down my lower back. The minutes rush by and impatience stokes sarcasm in my brain.

  What? Doesn’t he know how to read? There’s no reason he should be suspicious about my ID, he’s just on a power trip. I bite into the tip of my tongue to keep my mouth shut. Making this guy mad isn’t going to get me inside any faster.

  Finally, the guard gives it back to me. “Check in with reception. They’ll contact Ms. Smith for you.”

  Relief soothes some of the jitters running through me. I take back my card, and speed walk with as much decorum as possible through the doors. White, marble pillars and a wax-shined floor reflect the sun pouring in through the front windows and catch my reflection as I pick up my pace on the way to the front desk.

  A young woman wearing rainbow print suspenders slides her glasses to the end of her nose when I approach, looking at me over the rims as I repeat the ID process. She folds her arms on the desk and rests her weight on them.

  “Is this about her brother?” She asks under her breath, a muscle in her cheek twitching. “It’s been so long, most of us figure he’s not coming back, or that he can’t come back. It took us years to convince her to have a witch use an object that belonged to him to try and speak with the dead. For a long time, she refused to accept that possibility. Did you ... find a body?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t disclose the details to anyone but Ms. Smith,” I say, fighting a million expressions that want to take control of my face.

  When in doubt, claim confidentiality.

  “Understood.” The woman straightens and closes her eyes. “I’ll message her to see where she is.”

  It can’t be this easy, I think, sliding my ID into my back pocket. Nothing is ever this easy.

  The air ripples with magic and silvery light slips along the woman’s lashes. Her lips move faintly, then wrinkles cut lines across her forehead. I tighten my grip on my backpack straps, wishing I’d learned a mind reading spell. If Yaritza already contacted Iris and confirmed I’d run off with Max, she might try to have me arrested. Or worse.

  One of the woman’s hands whips out and I barely duck a binding spell. It shoots over my head, ricocheting off one of the pillars before dying out. Growling at the back of my throat, I throw up a shield to deflect a second attack, then sprint for the nearest door. A third spell hits the floor to my left as I turn the knob.

  Shock crackles through me when it actually gives, and I burst into a stairwell. Safely behind a wall, I transfer my shield to the lock, then shift into my phoenix form and travel up, aiming for the roof exit. At this speed, I find it quickly, coming up short when I see it standing wide open.

  I change back into human form to peek out onto the roof before charging right into another possible attack. A platinum blonde strides away from the door. Iris Smith. Flames lick her fingertips. Phoenix flames. As her arms shift into wings, I spring out of the hallway, shouting her name.

  Iris pauses and turns to face me, eyes hard. “You. You’re the one who tried to keep me from getting justice.”

  I lift my hands. “Trying to stop you from taking revenge on an innocent person.”

  Flapping her wings, Iris lifts off the ground, the fire casting light across her freckled face. “Innocent?” She scoffs. “I’m surprised Yaritza works with someone so gullible. I don’t plan on falling into the same pitfall.”

  With that, she transforms completely, then soars off the roof and away from the Tribunal Building.

  Clenching my fists, I sprint to the spot she just left. Against every driving force inside me, I stop and dig the crystal out of my backpack. I could easily give chase, but if I lose her, having the ability to scry will be vital. Which means I need her vibrations.

  I mumble a spell and my sight shifts. Layers of color tremble in the space Iris just abandoned, colors like phoenix feathers. Blues bleed into oranges and finally to brilliant gold. Reaching out, I sweep my fingers through it, absorbing the unique feel, committing it to memory.

  The pound of shoes on stairs echoes through the door behind me. Before I can shift, magic slams into my back, forcing me forward, locking my arms against my sides as Iris gets farther and farther away.

  20.

  I LAND HARD ON MY KNEES, trapped by invisible chains, easily surrounded by more guards in suits. Two of them grip my upper arms while the third lists off all my crimes. Including, but not limited to attacking a member of the Tribunal. They haul me to my feet and drag me back toward the door.

  Panic rakes through my chest with talon like force. Every second here is another second Iris gets closer to Max. I have to get out of this so I can get to him, but it’s going to be tricky. If I shift, the magical bonds will simply adjust to my new form, restraining any escape attempt. But with the right spell, I might be able to break it.

  Eyes sliding shut to block out the guard’s chatter, I gather every ounce of magic living and vibrating inside me. Sweat evaporates off my skin as it heats up. Pressure thrums against my skull, aches along every bone, begs for release. I restrain it until it threatens to rip me apart.

  Then I let it go.

  Power bursts out of me in a massive orb. It disintegrates the binding spell and forces the guards backward with enough force to knock two of them out. Using Iris’ vibrations as a guide, I wheel around and sprint across the roof, shifting into phoenix form as I dive into the sky, hoping to the Fates I can catch up before Iris exacts her revenge on Max.

  Beams of magic explode in the air around me. I dodge them, dipping and swooping as I speed away from the roof of the Tribunal Building. One scrapes over my back, almost knocking me off course and sending waves of pain up my spine and fear through my body. I have to be careful. Dying this time will mean the end.

  As I follow Iris’ vibrations, my thoughts scatter, each landing on the worst things that might be happening to Max. I have to assume he’s still alive if Iris is going to meet them. Unless she’s going for confirmation of death. After all the delays, she might have changed the bounty to a simple hit.

  Fear pulls a mournful sound from my chest and phoenix song spears the sky around me. I release it in a rush, not caring who hears my
call. Even if I can reach them before Yaritza or Iris hurts Max, how can I possibly save him? I toss my head to shove that thought away.

  I gave up a chance to get rid of my curse for this. Wasting that isn’t an option. Which means I need to work every angle. If I didn’t have to concentrate on tracking Iris, I could try to send a message to Aline, appeal to her one last time to end this in a way only she can. With Zeph’s shell helping me, there’s a strong chance I’ll actually reach her.

  But why waste my magic? She cares enough to send a gargoyle to protect her son, but not enough to resolve the problem entirely. Like my dad, her concern only goes as far as it doesn’t inconvenience her, and the chances of that changing are slim to none. No reason to hold out hope.

  Movement on the horizon steals my attention entirely from this depressing line of thought. I speed up, narrowing my sights on what soon appears to be another phoenix. When the vibrations confirm it’s Iris, I slow down, keeping her in my sights, but not trying to catch up. If I can just follow her, I might be able to attempt that potentially worthless message to Aline.

  It’s probably a waste of time, but again, I have to work every angle.

  Mentally, I recite my spell, focusing on the seashell as I add Aline’s name at the end and resisting the unbearable urge to rip into her. Aline Avila, this is the bounty hunter working to save your son’s life. I’m asking again that you put an end to the price on his head. Only you can give him the peace he deserves.

  Silence settles in my mind. An oppressive, restrictive kind that inhibits my breath, stokes the flames on my wingtips, and tempts an angry cry at the back of my throat. I snap my beak but avoid making a sound. Aline has caused enough trouble. I won’t let my anger with her give me away.

  Iris soars just beyond the bounds of Memphis, swooping down toward a skeletal building in the middle of an abandoned construction site. I trail her at a distance. My muscles burn with a desire to speed up, but I tighten them to resist the urge, refusing to give myself away.

  Our shadows skim across lonely construction equipment as we near the dusty ground. The last dregs of sunshine catch scattered bits of metal, dark mud cakes tractor tires and splatters security glass. Nearby streetlights blink on as darkness falls, but their cool glow does very little to chase away the night.

  Iris flies into the pitch black through one of the gaping windows. I pull up short, shifting as I settle on the dirt in human form. Gulping down a deep breath, I sink into a crouch, running on the balls of my feet for the nearest door. Even with my keen eyesight, I can barely see as I slip inside.

  I doubt very seriously Yaritza will risk much light, at least not where it might be seen from the outside of the building. Careful of every step, I move forward gingerly, listening for voices. The metal supports around me creek as they settle, a sound like frustrated groans, and wind hollers through the windows. It gives life to the dark around me. My imagination animates every black pocket and shadow.

  The toe of one of my shoes collides with something hard. I stumble, barely catching my balance as a loud clang echoes through the quiet. Quaking in my Converse, I freeze, listening. Still no voices reach my ears. At least that means no one heard my blunder. In theory.

  Heart raging in my chest, I start forward again. Sweat slicks my hands and gathers between my shoulder blades. A wad of tight muscle forms in my throat. They could be anywhere. In a closed off room. On another floor multiple flights of stairs up. Flying to search for them would be faster, but my phoenix flame might give me away. I can’t run that risk. Not against someone like Yaritza.

  I’m running out of time.

  Then a harsh scrape of a whisper echoes down a hall off to my left. Balling my hands into fists, I hold my breath and creep toward it on the balls of my feet. Faint light spreads out from an open doorway and across the dusty cement floor. It flickers, rapidly shuffling shadows from one corner to the other. A few feet more and the voices clarify.

  “That wasn’t the amount we agreed on,” Yaritza says, her words hard with resolve.

  “You’ve lost him twice; I think the price is quite reasonable considering the delay.”

  Hope perks up inside me. Of all the things Yaritza will absolutely not put up with, refusing to honor the contract is at the top of the list. If Iris agreed upon a particular amount of money for delivering Max, pride won’t allow Yaritza to budge, no matter the circumstances.

  I squat next to the bare sheetrock wall and peer around the doorframe. The two women face off in the middle of the room. Flames curl around Iris’ hands, shifting to spark in her eyes and at the ends of her hair. Yaritza juts one hip out, a deceptively lazy position. Even from this distance I can see the tips of her fingers brush the hilt of the black blades hidden in her jacket.

  When my focus lands on Max, my own phoenix fire threatens to lash out.

  Gray faced and limp, he slumps in the corner behind Yaritza, head tilted at an unnatural angle. Blood covers his neck and soaks his t-shirt, and dark bruises litter his arms. Weak or not, he must have fought back, something I don’t think he’s done before.

  Toes curled in my shoes; I wrack my brain for a plan. Relying on Yaritza and Iris to let this disagreement devolve into a fight won’t work. They’re both too savvy to be that stupid. Barging in, phoenix flame blazing, is a terrible option too, but it might be the only one that will work. If I can catch them off guard...

  A slight movement catches my attention and I look up to meet Max’s eyes. Some of the shadows slide away from his face as a smile pulls at his lips. He then winks, shifting his gaze to the women in front of him.

  “She’s right,” he says in a croak, warmth filling the room like pleasant heat from a bonfire. “That’s really not a fair deal.”

  My shoulders snap straight as Yaritza and Iris’ faces harden further. Yaritza must have thought Max was too weak to use his magic and didn’t command him to stay quiet. Which would make sense considering his damaged state and her rush to fulfill the contract.

  Huge mistake.

  Iris’ fire intensifies, spreading up her arms to the elbows. “You almost lost him entirely. Not to mention the fact that you failed to find the original target in the first place.”

  Teeth bared, Yaritza takes a step forward, pulling out her knives as she does. A few more feet and her back will be to me. If I can get to Max without them stopping me, I can protect him while I flesh out a better plan, or at the very least force them to listen.

  I hold my breath.

  “You know it’s impossible to find Aline Avila,” Yaritza says. “And if I remember correctly, you approved of my plan to smoke her out at the time.”

  “Well, your plan failed.” Iris’ fingers hook into fiery claws. “Because the boy doesn’t know anything.”

  “His mother still might show.”

  I inch forward.

  Another wave of warmth pulses through the room as Max says, “Doubtful. She has no intention of turning herself in. She wouldn’t even meet me when I asked. It was a terrible idea.”

  The flame along Iris’ arms extends from her back, the beginning of wings. “I thought you were supposed to be the best in the business. Now you fail and have the audacity to demand I honor our original agreement? You—”

  With a scream of fury, Yaritza barges toward Iris. I bolt for Max. With the cuff still on Yaritza’s arm, I won’t be able to get him out of here, but I can protect him until I can find a way to break the connection. Before I reach his corner, sharp pain slices across my arm as one of Yaritza’s blades flies end over end through the air.

  It imbeds itself into the sheetrock. I spin around and throw up a shield just in time to block the second knife. With a loud clang it bounces off and skids across the dusty cement. Yaritza appears inches away from me, Iris not far behind, but my magic keeps them at bay. With one quick sidestep, I encompass Max within the spell’s protective circle, using Zeph’s shell to strengthen it.

  On the other side of the rippling barrier, Yaritza sneers. “I t
old you to run.” A growl rumbles under this last word.

  With a grin I don’t feel, I click my tongue. “Yeah, I don’t listen so good.” I lower my voice to a bare whisper. “Max. Anything you want to say to our friend here?”

  “Nothing nice,” he mumbles.

  “Max.” I nudge his wrist with a foot.

  “Oh yeah.” A smile spreads slowly across his face. “How’s about you disconnect this nasty binding spell?”

  His magic flows out in a surprisingly quick rush, easily sliding past my shield spell to wrap around Yaritza. Her eyes mist over, and she sways. As she presses the tips of her fingers against her tattoo, Iris sprints toward us, still half shifted into her phoenix form. Back teeth clenched, I send a pulse of magic toward her with my free hand, only keeping my original spell in place with the shell’s help.

  Iris dodges. Her face twists in fury and she fully transforms, claws scraping the space above our heads in an attempt to break through. I flinch away from her attack. Fear needles across my skin, my new mortality sewing a new thread of terror into my heart. Heat pulses through the air. Sweat soaks the back of my shirt and my muscles shake.

  Yaritza finishes mumbling the spell and the cuff on Max’s arm lights up. With sluggish movements, he tears it off, then reaches for me. Color bleeds out of his face and his hand drops inches before touching mine. Panicked, I suck in a breath and shift, hoping I’m fast enough to grab him with my talons when I drop my shield.

  As both our spells die, Iris dives for Max. I snap at her with my beak and send fire toward Yaritza. Somehow, I have to stay alive and unbroken. This time, there are no take backs, no resets. Dead will be dead, and Max will be left unconscious and without any defense.

  Iris lets out a loud screech, clawing at my face, trying to steer me away from Max. Yaritza ducks under our spreading fire and scrambles toward her knives. My one hope is that she won’t be able to tell the difference between Iris and me. Our distinctive markings shouldn’t be apparent in the midst of our chaotic battle.