Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1)

by Amy Kuivalainen

I call you to do your Master’s bidding”

  He felt the magic pouring through his body. The tattoo twitched and with a shout of pain Vasilli could not hold in, the creature pulled itself from his body. It flopped, bloody as a newborn onto the ground and stretched its wings. It started to cry and grew to the size of a horse before it turned to Vasilli and lowered itself in a bow.

  “How may I serve, Master?” Its voice rasped through a mouth of venomous fangs.

  “Find the girl and bring her to me,” Vasilli commanded. “If you can snatch my brother do it, if not slaughter them all.” The creature bowed its head in servitude before it launched itself into the air. It flapped its large wings and disappeared into the distance.

  ***

  By midday Anya had lost sensation down the left side of her body. Trajan had to stop sporadically so she could vomit up greenish fluid flecked with blood. They had discovered she was paralysed down her whole side when she had almost fallen on her face the moment Trajan put her down. She was slipping in and out of consciousness.

  “I’m sorry if I smell like vomit,” she wheezed, her voice aching from retching.

  “That is quite all right,” Trajan smiled gently. “You should rest.”

  “I am going to be resting soon enough,” she touched his face with her good hand, making him look down on her. “Can you feel it yet? My death?” she whispered.

  “No,” he said and his arms tightened around her.

  “You are lying.”

  “This is some trick of Vasilli’s to hinder us.”

  “If it’s a trick it’s a damn good one,” she chuckled blackly.

  “We should stop for a rest,” said Yvan as he moved beside them. “If only for a short while.”

  “Good idea, I am tired of being carried like a sack of potatoes.”

  “Izrayl is scouting ahead to find a suitable spot,” said Trajan. Yvan’s warm hand brushed Anya’s forehead. He didn’t say anything but it made her feel better as she drifted off to sleep again.

  Anya woke up as soon as Trajan’s pace slowed. “Where are we?” she asked drowsily.

  “We are stopping for a while. Cerise is going to check you over again,” he said as he set her down on soft grass. She could hear a stream running but didn’t have the strength to look around for it. Yvan sat down beside her and propped her up against him. The heat from the firebird poured into her, relaxing her cramped muscles.

  “I have to hand it to you honey you sure know how to be the centre of attention,” Cerise said as she crouched beside them. “I am going to take a look at what’s going on with you.”

  “Are you a doctor?” Anya asked as she stripped off her coat.

  “I have had some medical training as a nurse. It makes it easier to get into hospitals.” Cerise looked at Anya’s hand and followed the tendrils up her arm and down her side. “This looks like some kind of poison,” she said finally, “If we can get the thorns out of you, your body might be strong enough to heal the rest.”

  “You mean cut them from her?” Yvan hissed.

  “That is exactly what I mean. It is either that or she worsens and possibly dies.” Izrayl appeared through the trees naked as the day he was born. Anya looked away and she felt Yvan chuckle a little despite the seriousness of the situation.

  “I told you that you are embarrassed about nakedness, shalosť,” he whispered. She couldn’t help but smile. Trajan passed Izrayl a pair of jeans.

  “I am just going to have to take them off again,” he pointed out. “You look terrible Anya.”

  “Thanks,” she mumbled.

  “We need to make a decision here, boys and soon. This poison is spreading-”

  Anya interrupted her, “Cut the fucking things out.” The concern on the faces around her almost did her nerve in.

  “Cerise, you should do it,” Izrayl said. Cerise pulled a knife from the folds of her coat. It had a short curved blade with a handle of carved ivory.

  “You will have to help hold her,” she said to Trajan. He sat down on the other side of Anya and pulled her close.

  “I am so sorry for the pain this is going cause,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear, “but I cannot bear the thought of losing you now.”

  ***

  Katya moved quickly through the trees. She was like her father in many ways. He had been a hunter except they didn’t just hunt animals. They hunted creatures of the supernatural persuasion as well. Usually the men in the family inherited the hunter gifts and the women inherited telepathy and divination. Being cursed with two girls Katya had become the hunter.

  Their tribe wandered between Skazki and the real world and she had spent lengthy times in both. She only ever really came back to Skazki when Aleksandra’s persistent telepathy became too much for her to handle. Katya had an apartment in Moscow full of guns she could never bring over. It didn’t bother her too much because she never stayed in Skazki long. Creatures had crossed over to the real world and multiplied; the only problem was that the people over there no longer believed they existed. It made Katya’s job much more of a challenge but she felt her skills went to better use in the real world. Aleksandra had contacted her a week beforehand with fierce premonitions of a battle brewing between good and evil and had forced Katya to come back to protect the tribe. The promise of the fight had brought her back, not allegiance.

  Aleki? Where are they? She had been running most of the day and was getting annoyed that she still hadn’t found them.

  You are so very close, keep going. Katya, the creature is dangerous and it has wings. Be careful little sister.

  She could hear voices arguing in the direction of a stream that was close by. She loosened her bow from where it hung concealed underneath her ankle-length leather coat. It also hid an impressive assortment of vicious weapons including throwing knives and a short sword. You could never be too prepared.

  As she got closer she could see the small group through the trees. Two women and three men. The blonde woman with them oozed so much magic Katya was surprised the trees weren’t coming alive and dancing. She was too late; they had already captured her. They started to hold the woman down and a knife flashed in the hand of the red haired woman.

  Not on my watch, Katya nocked an arrow.

  ***

  Cerise had just touched Anya’s skin with the cold blade when an arrow thudded into the ground beside her. A woman appeared through the trees, loading another as she ran. Izrayl morphed and charged her, dodging another fired shot. In a quick move the bow disappeared under her coat and a knife appeared in each hand. Izrayl launched himself at her and she fell to her knees, sliding underneath him, her knife catching one of his legs. Izrayl landed and turned quickly for another assault.

  “Stop!” Anya tried to shout with her ruined voice. Izrayl ignored her and as he attacked the stranger she flipped over him. Izrayl was faster and managed to catch her coat in his teeth. She hit the ground with a loud thump. Izrayl stalked over to her, a deep growl rolling through him. The woman waited until he was crouched over her before she swung her arm out and punched him in the nose. Izrayl yelped in pain and surprise.

  “That is enough!” Trajan shouted, his voice echoing over the noise and confusion. “Izrayl, back down. You woman, explain why you are attacking us.”

  “You were about to slice that poor girl up, I can’t allow that.”

  “They are helping me,” Anya wheezed. “They are my friends.”

  The stranger fingered the hilts of her knives as her eyes darted around the group. Finally she lowered her weapons. “If you are her friends, why the hell are you about to cut her hand apart?”

  “She’s been poisoned you presumptuous bitch,” Izrayl said as he changed back into his human body. His nose was bleeding and had a deep cut on his thigh where she had caught him with her knife.

  “I am sorry about the wound,” she said when she saw it. “My name is Katya and I am here to help you too. Would you mind putting on some trousers?”

  “I wou
ld actually,” Izrayl crossed his arms defiantly. “And we don’t need your help.”

  “Really?” Katya pushed him hard out of the way. A high pitched cry screeched overhead and something huge and black swooped them.

  “What the hell was that?” Anya asked. With her half blurred vision it looked a like a bat. Trajan moved to shield her body as it swooped again.

  “Get her under the trees!” Katya shouted as she loaded another shaft into her bow. Trajan and Yvan grabbed Anya’s arms, Cerise her legs and carried her quickly under cover. Izrayl howled as the black creature landed in the glade.

  “Watch its head,” Katya yelled to Izrayl as he went for its long snake neck. A clawed foot caught him, brushing him out of the way like he was a puppy. Katya fired her bow and hit it in the chest but missed its heart. It screeched in fury. Swearing she pulled out a short sword. Izrayl was back on his feet and doing his best to damage the creature’s wings.

  “Look after Anya,” Trajan commanded Yvan.

  “Be careful,” Anya croaked. Trajan smiled ironically at her before throwing himself into the fray. Katya was fighting at the beast’s head; Izrayl was biting at its legs and belly. As if in slow motion Anya watched Trajan jump lightly up onto its back behind its wings. He placed his hands on its neck and to Anya it seemed like he shimmered for a moment, like a mirage. The creature stopped fighting and sagged to its knees. It cried high and mournful as silvery smoke rose from it, enveloping Trajan. He opened his mouth and the smoke sucked into him. As he started to shudder, Anya fainted.

  She woke to the smell of burning and the musk of animal fur. Anya opened her sore eyes and realised Izrayl was carrying her on his back. Cerise was beside them and looked grim.

  “Cerise? Where is Trajan? What happened to him?”

  “Try not to talk honey,” she said urgently. “You had a seizure before and coughed up a lot of blood.”

  “Where’s Trajan?”

  “He is walking a little way back,” Cerise frowned.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, just an idiot. He shouldn’t have done that in front of you all. He’s embarrassed now of course. Izrayl is carrying you because Trajan thought when you woke you may have been…frightened. Just try to relax. This gypsy Katya is taking us to her camp. Apparently they have a wise woman who will be able to help you.” Cerise did little to hide her scepticism.

  “What happened to the monster?”

  “We burnt it. Katya didn’t want Vasilli to be able to resurrect it. Don’t worry about it, darling. Just sleep.”

  Night fell quickly in the forest. An extra coat had been placed over Anya when she woke again. Anya could just make out the glimmer of fires through the heavy beech and pine trees.

  “You will have to change back here,” Katya said to Izrayl. “My tribe doesn’t look kindly on volk krovi.” She spoke good English but she had a thick Eastern European accent and rolled her r’s. Yvan stepped forward and gently lifted Anya from Izrayl’s back. Anya couldn’t even feel him touching her. She couldn’t move her arms or legs. She started to weep as fear crowded her.

  “Shh don’t cry shalosť,” Yvan whispered. “All will be well.” She tried to smile at Trajan. He didn’t smile back.

  “Can you feel it now?” she asked him.

  “Come, we have to hurry,” Katya said. “They know we are close. Everything is prepared so they can work on her straight away.” Through bleary eyes Anya saw flames and curious glances from dark faces. Spices and incense filled the air mixed with the smell of Yvan’s skin. If she could have moved she would have clung to him and buried her face into his chest like a little child, breathing in his scent of heat and man.

  “This way,” Katya said quietly and lead them to a wooden caravan painted yellow and black. The door opened and a short, squat old woman shuffled out. She moved to grip Anya’s face with her bony hands. Her snapping black eyes looked deep into her before muttering something in a language Anya didn’t know.

  “Come,” she said in English. Yvan carried Anya up the iron steps and placed her on a narrow bed. “Go.”

  “But-” Yvan started but was already being pushed outside.

  “You, come.” Anya heard the command. Trajan ducked into the caravan followed by a beautiful woman with long black hair. She looked a little like Katya but was much softer in her features.

  “Hello Anya, I am Aleksandra. Everything is going to be fine,” she said calmly. She looked at Trajan standing in the corner and started. “What are you?”

  “He come wit her,” the old woman said, “He is moartea spiritului.”

  “Not anymore,” Trajan answered. The old woman rattled a reply to Aleksandra.

  “Baba Zosia says you are here so you can feel if we are about to lose Anya,” Aleksandra translated. Baba Zosia started to light the many candles in the cramped space and Aleksandra quickly moved to help her.

  “Trajan?” Anya croaked. He knelt down beside her bed and pushed the damp hair from her face. “Can you feel it?”

  “Yes,” he answered, “But I won’t let you go just yet.”

  “Can I have a final request in case I don’t make it?”

  “Anything.”

  “I haven’t been kissed in five years, kiss me Trajan,” she whispered. “I am so afraid.” Trajan slowly pushed his glasses onto the top of his head and brought his lips softly to hers. They were gentle and Anya felt warmth grow in her chest. When he moved back from her his eyes were filled with amazement.

  “See? A kiss from you didn’t hurt me after all,” she said before a fit of coughing overtook her.

  “We need to get started now,” Aleksandra said as she manoeuvred Trajan into the far corner of the hot room. Baba Zosia crouched down next to the bed and removed Anya’s shirt. “This made by magic. Only magic can un-make,” she muttered. Aleksandra passed her a small pestle and mortar. Anya caught the strong smell of spices.

  “If I die,” she said to Trajan, “give my soul to Tuoni. The bastard got me into this mess to begin with so I am going to haunt him in the afterlife.”

  “You quiet now. Both quiet,” Baba Zosia snapped. Aleksandra came forward and from a hessian bag started to pour salt in a circle around the narrow bed on which Anya lay. From the folds of her shawl Baba Zosia produced some small bells which she rang, filling the tense air with their tinkling. Anya remembered Eikki telling her of such bells, he called them bakterismasko bells. Baba Zosia started to crush the contents in the stone basin slowly and methodically. The rich smell of cloves bombarded Anya as Baba Zosia started to hum a tune that made Anya’s magic spike. Her heart was racing but she managed to find Trajan’s face and focus on it.

  Baba Zosia took Anya’s infected hand and with two quick flicks of a knife she opened the inflamed scars. Blood poured from the wounds and Baba Zosia let it drip into the crushed herbs. Anya could no longer follow the tune, it had been reduced to a buzzing static in her brain. Aleksandra joined in and continued the flow and rhythm of it when Baba Zosia spat into the mixture. A small leather bag appeared in her hand and she tipped the contents in. Finally she lit a small bundle of dried grasses and dropped the ashes into it. She ground the mixture until it became a thick paste. Scooping some into her wrinkled hand she spread it over Anya’s wound. Anya screamed as an agonising burning sensation burst up her arm. A thousand knives scraped through her veins as she twisted in pain. “She is fading,” Trajan said urgently.

  “Holt her down,” Baba Zosia commanded Aleksandra. She gripped Anya’s shoulders without stopping the incessant humming. Baba Zosia started an incantation in the gypsy’s obscure language. She said it three times, her voice becoming stronger with each telling until she was shouting.

  Anya screamed as her power flared and mixed with that of Baba Zosia. It roared through her burning and cleansing the poison from her body. With a final shout the pain left her. Anya opened her eyes as Baba Zosia ran the rim of a small glass vial over her bloody palm. She held it to Anya’s face so she could see in the congeali
ng mess were two rose thorns. “Bind her,” Baba Zosia said to Aleksandra.

  “I will be back with some water to clean the wound,” Aleksandra said before helping the older woman down the stairs and out of the caravan. Trajan was beside Anya, his cool hand resting on her burning head.

  “Why is it so dark?” Anya whispered.

  “Whatever you and that woman just did melted all the candles,” Trajan said. “I thought I had lost you for a moment.”

  “I am not going anywhere. You wasted a kiss for nothing,” she smiled sleepily.

  “It wasn’t a waste. Neither is this one,” he kissed her again, his long fingers twisting in her matted hair. Anya managed to move her good hand, gripping his shirt she brought him closer. Aleksandra re-appeared with a steaming basin of water and coughed politely. Trajan broke off the embrace at once. Anya touched her lips a little dazed, the sensation of him imprinted on them.

  “I see your hands are working again which is a good sign,” Aleksandra commented as she took her place by Anya’s side. “Once we get all of this blood bathed off we will stitch your hand and get you changed into fresh clothes.” She looked at Trajan expectantly.

  “I believe that is my cue to leave,” Trajan said and made for the door.

  “The others are eating in the third caravan to the right of this one,” Aleksandra said as she started to wash Anya’s skin, “They are expecting you.”

  ***

  Yvan heard Anya scream and rushed outside. Katya stopped him just as he reached the door of the caravan where he had placed Anya in.

  “You can’t go in there,” she said as she pulled him away. “If you interrupt whatever magic they are doing you could kill Anya.” Yvan reluctantly moved back but remained standing in front of the caravan. He was angry but he couldn’t blame Katya for it. He hated that Trajan was allowed in there and he wasn’t.

  “Yvan, you had best stop that,” Katya said and pointed at him nervously. “People will notice.” Yvan looked down and realised flames were sparking to life along his arms. He patted them out quickly.