Phoenix Burning

Home > Other > Phoenix Burning > Page 16
Phoenix Burning Page 16

by Bryony Pearce


  Ayla was shaking. “Do you think they had this planned already, or is it specially for me?”

  “Get a move on,” Bianca snapped. “We all want to see.”

  Ayla turned to Toby. “I-I don’t think I can do this.” Her usual composure had been shattered. Toby clutched her tighter as the others crowded into the doorway behind them.

  “Get outta the way.” Moira shoved and Toby stumbled.

  “Walk with me.” He pushed Ayla gently. She resisted and Toby had to wrestle her on to the top step and into the light.

  At first he was blinded by the morning glare, but finally saw what had terrified his partner. “Ashes,” he muttered.

  He and Ayla stood motionless on the top step as the others shoved past and lined up in the dust. He jumped as Mother Hesper’s hand landed on his shoulder.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Of course not.” Toby shook his head, but Ayla spun around in sudden fury.

  “You did this on purpose, you skeletal witch.”

  Toby leaped between them and opened his arm. “Ayla, no!”

  Mother Hesper merely raised her eyebrows. “If you don’t want to take part in the challenge, I understand. Your decision will be honoured.”

  Ayla’s head snapped up, momentary relief clearing the cloud from her face. “You mean I don’t have to do it?”

  “Wait, what? How is that fair?” Lenka started back up the stairs.

  “Of course it will be an instant forfeit, and you and your partner will go to the altar,” Mother Hesper continued.

  Ayla clamped her jaw tightly closed.

  “Well?” Mother Hesper tilted her head. “What’s your decision?”

  Ayla remained silent, trembling against Toby’s chest. He stiffened.

  “Fine.” Ayla stepped away from them both. “I’ll do it. If you think you can break me with this, you don’t know me.” Her face was pale, but she marched down the stairs, past the waiting teens and right up to the mountain of dry kindling that was piled in the centre of the courtyard.

  Part of Toby was impressed. “Where did you get so much combustible?” he murmured.

  Mother Hesper smirked. “Pilgrimages … offerings from the sea … our own plantations on Gozo. We have riches you’ve never dreamed of.”

  Toby began to follow her down the steps. “So this was already planned, you didn’t put this on because you saw Ayla’s injuries?”

  Mother Hesper said nothing, simply swept past him and raised her arms. “A circle has been drawn around the bonfire.”

  Toby squinted at the ground. Sure enough, a line had been etched in the sand.

  “Sit on the line,” she continued. “The first one to move further away will lose the challenge.”

  Toby jogged to Ayla’s side. She stood by the line, trembling slightly. “Sit on my right. I’ll shield your left side as much as I can.”

  Ayla curled her lip. “I’ll be fine.” Her spine was straight and the long half of her hair lay against her back. Toby looked at it with a sinking heart. She couldn’t even pull her hair in front of her burns to protect the sensitive skin from the heat.

  “Here.” Toby pulled off his shirt. “Wrap that round your left shoulder on top of your own shirt, it’ll give you added protection.”

  “What about you?” Ayla glanced at his exposed chest and handed it back.

  “You know what the boiler room’s like.” Toby pressed the shirt back into her hand. “This kind of heat doesn’t bother me.” She hesitated, wavering. “Honestly, it’s a hundred degrees in there. Take the shirt.”

  She sucked her bottom lip. “You’ll be fine?”

  “I’ll get sunburn, but I can take it.”

  Ayla reached out a finger and touched Toby’s nut-brown forearm, running her hand up to where the skin became pale on his shoulder.

  “It’ll hurt.”

  Toby caught her hand. “Not as much as having my tongue removed. The others are already sitting. Come on.”

  He held out his hand. Ayla blinked and then took it. He helped her sit and then sat himself, angling his right shoulder so that it provided some shade for Ayla’s left. Neither of them looked at the others, but Toby sensed their relief. They were certain Ayla was going to hand them the victory.

  Once they were ready Father Dahon exited the sanctuary with a flaming torch. Ayla swallowed as Mother Hesper took it from him then, in one smooth movement, launched it over their heads and into the bonfire. It wedged in the side nearest Toby and Ayla.

  Ayla had closed her eyes when the torch cartwheeled above her, but now she opened them, pinning her gaze on the licking flame.

  “It’s gone out,” she whispered.

  Toby’s heart sank at the hope in her voice. “Just wait,” he said, and he held her hand.

  Ayla didn’t pull away – instead she leaned closer, holding her breath. A glow grew brighter inside the pile of kindling as it began to smoulder, a red bud that blossomed all of a sudden into a bright orange flower. Ayla’s breath flew out of her as the flame went, in seconds, from a glow to a crackling blaze. Tendrils of flame wound between logs and slid from one combustible to the next, hissing as they grew between the cracks like vines. The colour of the bonfire’s heart deepened and darkened and the flames twisted higher into the sky, yellowing as they rose until they met the sun’s rays in one single blaze.

  Ayla covered her face as a gust of wind blasted smoke in her direction. Ash blew over Toby and settled into the hair on his chest.

  He could feel his face reddening.

  “There is water behind each of you. Use it only to drink.” Father Dahon’s sibilant rasp caused Toby to turn, carefully. He was terrified of accidentally moving from the line. Sure enough, a clay tankard of water now sat behind each of them.

  “They’re giving us water?” Ayla’s surprise matched his own.

  “The heat is going to be severe.” Toby squeezed her hand again. “They don’t want anyone passing out and winning by default.”

  “Makes sense,” Ayla muttered. She took one more glance at the water, as if to reassure herself that it was real, then turned back to the fire.

  Toby looked round. To his left, Zahir was already flinching and had covered his eyes with his hands. Tears were running between his fingers. Toby nudged Ayla. “The brightness bothers him,” he whispered.

  Lenka and Matus were coughing; the breeze had turned and was gusting thick smoke in their direction.

  Ticklish sweat ran down Toby’s neck and chest, drying before it reached his trousers.

  Uzuri was glaring at Ayla, silently willing her to break before Zahir. As the heat built, Ayla clutched Toby’s hand more tightly. Her palm was wet in his and her hair was already sticking to her forehead. Her breath came in short rasps and her spine was ramrod straight. When she started to rub her broken wrist with her free hand, Toby knew she was thinking of the explosion.

  The boiler fire was nothing like this. Toby rubbed sweat out of his eyes and ducked his head, no longer able to watch the flames. The bonfire had become an inferno. With a crack, a large log snapped in two and fell into the centre of the blaze, forcing the smaller kindling to spread out, getting closer to Ayla’s feet. She gasped and pulled in her toes. Toby held her to him.

  “Don’t run.”

  “I’m not going to,” she growled, but she let him keep holding her.

  The sound of the fire had developed into a roar. Summer had clapped her hands over her ears and Arthur was holding on to her long tresses, which were blowing in the direction of the flying sparks.

  “I need my drink,” Ayla moaned.

  Toby could barely hear her. He nodded to show that he understood and she reached behind her for the tankard.

  Before he could tell her not to, she had knocked the whole thing back. Rivulets of cool water dripped down her throat and soaked into her collar and Toby swallowed, suddenly desperate for his own water. He didn’t dare drink. Ayla would need more.

  All around them the teens were reachi
ng for their cups. Toby hung his head and tried to absorb the heat into his body, picturing the boiler room at its hottest.

  He imagined that he could hear the sounds of the Phoenix around him, that the fire’s snarl was the thunder of the engine running at full speed, that the hiss of the flames was the muffled sound of her paddles and the crack and crackle of disintegrating logs was the crunch and crash of junk being smashed by her ice-breaker hull.

  He pictured the captain’s face when he handed him the inverter and leaned closer to Ayla, trying to shade her sensitive skin.

  She was shaking now – her whole body a tense string that could break at any moment.

  “It’s OK to lean on me,” Toby shouted.

  “It’s not OK! I don’t lean on anyone.” Ayla turned a glare on him, but her eyes were haunted. “I thought this would get easier the longer I sat here, but the heat is just…” She swallowed. “All I can think about is that explosion. I keep seeing it … feeling it slam into me … the smell of my own skin burning.”

  Toby put his lips close to her ear. He could feel the heat radiating from her face and the dampness of her sweat.

  “Picture the sea,” he murmured. He stroked her palm with his thumb. “Pretend you’re on board the Phoenix. It’s night, so it’s cool, even below deck.” He felt the slight easing of her shoulders. “You and I aren’t sleepy, so we sneak past the others, snoring in their cots, we climb the ladder to the hatch and we go outside.” Ayla closed her eyes. “There’s a cool breeze in the air and the salt is calm, junk is bobbing in the waves and the paddles are churning easily, moving us onwards, towards the island. That’s the noise you can hear, the roar of the Phoenix breaking the junk as she ploughs the salt.” Ayla nodded. “We decide to climb to the crow’s nest. As we get higher, the wind gets stronger and it soothes your skin.” Her shoulders dropped a little more. “At the top we sit in front of the rail and look out. We could be the only people in the world. The salt is lifting us up and down and all you can hear is the creaking of the sails, the crunching of the junk and the muted roar of the paddles…” Toby stopped.

  “We look up,” Ayla rasped, “the stars are out.”

  “Yes,” Toby smiled. “Cassiopeia is right above us, the plough is brushing the horizon, and Orion is low in the sky, his belt shining like diamonds.”

  “The seven sisters…” Ayla trailed off and Toby knew she had just thought of her own sisters, dead in the fire that had scarred her mother.

  “The North Star,” he said quickly. “We’re sailing directly towards it: northwards, and growing cooler with every turn of the paddles.”

  “Then you put your arm around me…” Ayla whispered and she relaxed into his side.

  “Yes,” Toby cleared his throat. “I pull you close.” He exhaled. “And I kiss you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I put my lips to yours and all the lights go out, so we really are the only people left under the stars.”

  The wind turned and Toby coughed as a cloud of smoke engulfed him and dragged him back to reality.

  He blinked stinging ash from his eyes and checked on Ayla. She had flinched but seemed steadier. To his left, Zahir was shaking uncontrollably. His thick embroidered tunic was protecting him from the flames, but his throat was flushed scarlet from the heat. Toby knew the sun had burned his own shoulders and back, he could feel the prickle of tightening skin, but Zahir’s neck and ears, where his high collar did not cover him, was already blistered and painful to look at. Zahir no longer tried to cover his eyes from the blaze – he simply sat with his chin on his chest, swaying. Beside him Uzuri had taken off her linen robe and sat glistening in the firelight, her legs folded under her. The heat barely seemed to bother her at all.

  Toby looked around more carefully. Lenka and Matus had suffered from the smoke – their mugs were empty and their faces were pasted with sweat-soaked grime. They looked soot-grained like Toby did after a long stint in the boiler room.

  Through the haze, he could just about make out Bianca and Cezar. Bianca was rubbing Cezar’s leg for him, but neither looked like breaking any time soon.

  How long could Ayla hold out?

  As if the thought of her drew her attention, she clamped her fingers harder on his.

  “Here, drink.” Although his own throat was aching, Toby pushed his mug towards Ayla.

  She frowned at him. “That’s yours.”

  “Drink.” Toby coughed again. “I don’t need it.”

  “You’re coughing.” Ayla glowered.

  “Fine.” Toby sipped, twice. As the warmed water slid down his throat, soothing, it was all he could do to take the mug from his lips. “I’m done. You have the rest.” He handed it across and Ayla’s free hand clutched the mug so tightly that Toby knew she had been desperate for it.

  He watched her drink. She gulped at the water as though putting out a fire inside her own body. He glanced up to see Arthur frowning at him.

  Now the heat was unbearable. The leaping flames had turned the centre of the bonfire into a white-hot furnace. Toby knew it would melt metal.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can face this,” Ayla whispered.

  Toby lowered his voice. “For as long as you need to. We daren’t lose. Apart from anything else, we won’t be able to get the thing out of my cell if we get taken to the altar – we’ve never seen a loser return.”

  Ayla swallowed and Toby forced a grin. “You’re not going to show weakness are you? What would Nell say if I beat you at this?”

  Ayla pulled her hand from Toby’s. “You’re right, I’m her bloody second. She’d kill me. This is just a damned bonfire. It can’t hurt me.” She tossed her head. “And so what if it does. I’ve taken worse.”

  “That’s right.” Toby opened and closed his stiff fingers, half regretting what he had said to Ayla. But it had worked. She no longer looked as if she was in any danger of moving from the line.

  Uzuri levelled a glare at him, she had been relying on Ayla to break before Zahir. Toby swallowed his guilt. This time Zahir would lose.

  EIGHTEEN

  The moment Zahir and Uzuri were led away, the teens rolled back from the fire as fast as they could.

  It was only when Toby was gasping like a landed fish in the shade of the sanctuary wall, that he realized Ayla had not come with him. She remained ramrod straight and unmoving, the flame-light playing hypnotically over her face.

  “Ayla.” Toby crawled back to her and touched her back gently. “It’s over.”

  Slowly Ayla turned her head. She looked left and right, her eyes glazed. Then a slow smile lifted the corners of her lips.

  “I beat them all.”

  Toby nodded.

  “Even you, Phoenix.”

  “Yes.” Toby tugged at her collar. “Move away from the heat.”

  Swaying, Ayla allowed Toby to pull her backwards, her legs pedalling as she retreated from the fire. Then she faced the others. Summer was a limp rag in Arthur’s arms, Bianca was vomiting on the sand, while Cezar rubbed her back. Brody and Moira leaned against one another in the shade of the high wall, breathing shallowly.

  Ayla opened her mouth as though to say something, then she shook her head, shoved Toby to one side and ran.

  Toby’s legs were jelly and he figured Ayla’s had to be worse, but he still couldn’t catch her. From the wall above, the weight of an uncle’s attention shifted towards them.

  “Wait!”

  “Go away!” Ayla barrelled around a corner.

  “We’re not allowed beyond the rear courtyard. There’s nowhere to go and you’ll bring the uncles on us.”

  “I just want to be alone.” She spun on her heel, beads clattering. “I can’t believe I let everyone see me like that.”

  “They saw you win.”

  She shook her head. “They saw me weak.” She dragged Toby’s shirt from her shoulder and shoved it back into his hands.

  “Are you kidding?” Gingerly Toby eased the creased material on over his burn
ed back. “Even when they were sure you were going to fail, you beat them.” He moved towards her carefully. “Now they know they’ve got no chance against us.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I do. Nell has made you so afraid of seeming weak, you can’t tell when you’re being brave any more.”

  She shook her head violently, then sagged. “Everything will be different soon. I’ll be back with her – with Nell and … you’ll be with Barnaby.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It means everything.” She wheeled around again and tried to lurch into a run. Toby caught her arm.

  “You’ve forgiven me for betraying you, haven’t you?” Ayla whispered finally when she turned back to him.

  Toby nodded. He had forgiven her, but he hadn’t forgotten.

  “Why?”

  Blindsided, Toby stammered his answer. “It was a complicated situation. I was wrong to pressure you to join our crew and we didn’t leave you much choice – I see that now.” He rubbed his elbow.

  Ayla cleared her throat. “Would you forgive me again if I…”

  “What are you saying?” Toby caught his breath.

  “Nothing. It’s just … are we strong enough to get past anything? I don’t want to lose you.”

  Toby exhaled. “You won’t.” He pulled her close. “We’re rock.”

  Her tangled black hair smelled of smoke and her cheek against his was sticky with soot and sweat. As he tightened his arms around her, Ayla’s trembling slowed and eventually stopped.

  She pushed him back and looked around swiftly – there was no one close by. “We have to get out of here. We’re down to the strongest couples. If we lose a challenge, there won’t be any chance to get those things out.”

  Toby held a finger to his lips. He felt itchy, as though they were being overheard.

  They stood in the shade cast by the giant bronze circle on the sanctuary roof. The glass-topped wall sliced into the horizon on their left and to the right was a recently constructed part of the sanctuary, all concrete and metal. A window was open above their heads. Toby pointed and Ayla nodded and walked further on.

  Toby rubbed his stinging smoke-burned eyes. “You’re right,” he murmured.

 

‹ Prev