Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1)

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Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1) Page 22

by Amy Kuivalainen


  “Where are Cerise and Trajan?” Anya asked as she took a bowl.

  “They had to go and see their banker,” Izrayl answered promptly. “They left while you were asleep. Don’t worry; they will turn up at some point.” Anya felt crestfallen. She had wanted to talk to Trajan badly. They were constantly getting interrupted in the most uneasy situations so Anya always felt shy the next time they were alone.

  Despite Cerise and Trajan’s absence Anya had a good night and had cheered up with many tales of hunts that Katya had been on and big laughs at Izrayl’s exploits. Yvan had been slightly more withdrawn than usual but even he managed a few unexpected stories. Anya asked him about Ilya but he hadn’t seemed willing to share it.

  Tired and full to bursting with Katya’s spicy, violently coloured borsch Anya got into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow she fell into a dream.

  The forest around her was dark and ancient. The smell of decaying leaf litter and earth hung heavy in the air like a smog.

  “Hello?” she whispered. Anya looked up at the branches above her and realised not even a leaf was moving. Careful to not make too much noise she walked through the trees to find a path. A part of her knew she was dreaming but the forest and her fear were more real than any dream she had previously. The trees were eerie so when she saw a patch of sunlight she made for it quickly. The pine and birch soon thinned out to reveal a large clearing and a small cottage built of stone and wood. Smoke was drifting up from the chimney and well-tended gardens filled with vegetables, flowers and herbs surrounded the building.

  “In the middle of the big dark forest lived an evil witch,” Anya whispered as she approached. As she placed one foot on the house steps the door opened and a woman stepped out, a sword raised high and pointing directly at her.

  “Hello, I don’t mean you any harm,” Anya said quickly, her arms raised in surrender. The sword lowered and a pair of piercing angry green eyes stared at her. She knew those eyes.

  “Who are you?” they both asked at once.

  “My name is Yanka and you are trespassing,” the woman hissed.

  “I’m Anyanka. I think, I mean I am… I’m your great-great granddaughter about five times over.” Anya was going to faint but reminded herself it was only a dream and it would be pathetic. After a long ten seconds the sword was lowered and she stepped back to appraise her ancestor. Yanka only looked around thirty-five to Anya’s reckoning and they shared the same very fair hair and eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” Yanka asked finally.

  “I am dreaming.”

  “This isn’t the Land of Dreaming; it is the Land of the Dead.”

  “I think I would know if I was dead.”

  “Would you? I didn’t. I thought I was dreaming too when I came to this place. I am still waiting to wake up.”

  “I am not dead.”

  “You hope.” Yanka folded her pale scarred arms then pulled the sleeves of her dress down to hide them from Anya’s gaze. “I need a drink,” she continued before turning back towards the door. “Wipe your feet.”

  Anya followed her through the shadowy hallway and into a kitchen. It was very similar to the one she had back at the farm with wooden cupboards and benches along one wall, a pine table and a cast iron stove. Yanka wore a simple woollen dress and a soft leather girdle pressed with intricate designs. Anya watched her as she opened a cupboard and brought out a large jar of a violet liquid.

  “How long have you been in this place?” Anya asked.

  “Too long to remember properly now. I woke in the forest and found my way to this cottage. I repaired it and settled in to wait. The forest-”

  “Is frighteningly silent,” Anya finished.

  “I was going to say dangerous. You cannot leave the cottage after night fall. I tried once and got this.” She put the jar on the table and lifted the hem of her dress. Wrapped around her left leg was a long curving scar.

  “Der’mo,” Anya whispered, “I am sure I will wake by nightfall.” Yanka lowered her skirt and placed two squat pottery mugs next to the jar. She sat on one of the three legged stools and indicated Anya to sit on the other one. A small knife appeared in her hand and she deftly began to cut the wax seal.

  “So you are of Ilya’s ilk?”

  “Yes, he was grandfather’s grandfather,” Anya answered thinking the question was strange. She had already told Yanka that she was her descendent. Yanka didn’t say anymore but poured the thick liquid from the jar into the mugs.

  “You have some magical ability yes?” Yanka sipped, Anya did the same and was pleasantly surprised to discover blackberry vodka.

  “A little and only newly discovered.”

  “You should have begun your teaching when you were three.”

  “Eikki, my grandfather, thought it would be best not to teach me. Something about wanting me to have a safe, normal life.”

  “Fool!” Yanka muttered, “It isn’t something you can leave undeveloped or it will control you. It will burn you up.”

  “Is that what happened to you? Baba Yaga told me that the magic had destroyed you.”

  “Baba Yaga is a lying bitch,” she hissed, “but even I am not sure what happened. As to what I remember…give me your hand.”

  “Why?”

  “I am going to show you something that your grandfather should have.” Anya drained her mug and gave Yanka her hand. Something pulsed sharply when they touched but Yanka didn’t let go. She began whispering something under her breath and images flooded Anya’s mind so fast she couldn’t discern what they were. Then flames, burning and screaming.

  “Anya!” Yvan charged into Anya’s flame engulfed room. He could make out her body on the bed writhing on the sheets, fire pouring from her. His own body lit up and he walked through the fire to reach her.

  “Anya, wake up,” he said urgently as his hands brushed her face.

  These are not ordinary flames. This is magic fire, the firebird said.

  “It doesn’t matter what type of fire it is!” Yvan growled before he started to shake her, “Anyanka! Wake up!”

  “Yvan?” Anya opened a bleary eye. The flames stilled burned and she flinched.

  “Anya,” Yvan said calmly as he held her face in his hands, “turn the flames off. It is okay, I have you.” She nodded and shut her eyes in concentration. Within seconds the flames slowly vanished. Yvan did the same until the room was completely back to normal. Anya collapsed in his arms shaking and crying.

  “You are safe, Anya. Don’t cry,” he tried to soothe as he patted her shoulder.

  “Just a dream, just a dream,” she murmured over and over against his shirt.

  “What happened?” Trajan strode into the room, his coat and hair still wet from being outside. Yvan let Anya go and she ran to hug him. Cerise came into the room, her face white with worry.

  “We saw the flames coming out of the window when we drove in,” she said. “We thought the whole place was burning.”

  “No, just me,” Anya said, her voice muffled by Trajan’s overcoat.

  “How about we go downstairs and get you something warm to drink?” Trajan said and kissed her gently despite Cerise and Yvan’s presence. “Why do you taste like blackberries?”

  Sitting with Trajan’s arm around her and a cup of hot tea in her hands Anya finally relaxed enough to tell them about her dream and what Yanka had done to her.

  “Just how much paprika did you put in that borsch?” Izrayl teased Katya who sat beside him.

  “Very funny,” she rolled her eyes. “More likely something you put in it when I wasn’t looking.”

  “I don’t know much about magic but how do you know your dream was actually real?” asked Cerise, her manicured hand wrapped around her glass of wine.

  “She tasted of blackberries. Dreams can be extremely potent but not enough to cause fruit in ones mouth,” Trajan argued.

  “It was real enough to Anya to cause her body and her magic to react. Whether or not she found her way to the Land
of Dreaming or the Land of the Dead is irrelevant,” Yvan said. He had a dark look in his eyes Anya hadn’t seen before. They flashed red and back to blue. Clearly the firebird wanted to make his presence known.

  “If it wasn’t for Yvan I would still be burning,” Anya smiled at him and his dark look softened a little. “You scared me, I thought I had set you on fire.”

  “It is just something the firebird and I have been working on lately.” Yvan said as he got to his feet and started to pace.

  “Getting back to whether you really made it to the Land of the Dead or Dreaming,” Katya said to Anya. “I have shaman friends who can walk those paths. They need preparation first though but it is possible you did it without it. I will ring them and see if they can help. I was going to get in contact with them anyway. They could teach you how to use your magic.” They sat quietly for a while and Anya drank her tea, her mind full of fire and pain. Whatever Yanka had done to her hadn’t affected her physically but mentally she was a mess.

  “So how was your night killing people?” Yvan asked randomly. Trajan glared at him and Cerise fought to hide her embarrassment. Anya felt like she had been kicked in the guts again as Trajan opened and closed his mouth under her questioning gaze but didn’t manage to get an explanation out.

  “Their banker, huh? Great, someone else who likes to lie to me,” Anya said, glaring hard at Izrayl. He visibly shrank in his seat as she stood up and made for the door.

  “Well done Yvan,” Anya heard Trajan say behind her. She didn’t stay long enough to hear the heated words that were about to start.

  Anya jogged up the twisting staircase and back to her room. Flames flashed in her mind’s eye so she went into the small bathroom. At least there was nothing in there she could set on fire. She climbed into the dry bathtub and glared at the ceiling. She knew what Cerise and Trajan were. The lying was the thing that upset her. They even had Izrayl lie for them which was worse. If not for Yvan she would have remained blissfully ignorant. How did he know anyway? Clearly he wasn’t as gullible as her.

  “Anya? Are you hiding in here?” Trajan was at the bathroom door. She pressed herself down as flat as she could. His curly head and dark purple shirt appeared above her.

  “I’m not hiding,” she pointed out.

  “You are angry.”

  “Good observation. Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?”

  “You were asleep.”

  “But you had Izrayl lie for you.”

  “Will you please get out of there so we can talk properly?”

  “No.” Trajan frowned then kicked off his shoes and started climbing in. “Hey this bath is full!”

  “You won’t come out so I need to get in.” Anya sat forward to move away from him but he ended up sitting behind her.

  “I didn’t want to upset you,” he explained, “which backfired anyway. Cerise and I are not-”

  “I am not annoyed because you had to go and feed or whatever it is you and Cerise do. I am annoyed because you couldn’t be honest about it. I’ve had enough lies in my life, I don’t need any more.” His hand lightly touched her back, tangling in hair.

  “I am sorry.” Anya looked over her shoulder to see if he was teasing her. He looked sincere and upset. “I really am. I just wanted to shield you a little from it that is all. I won’t from now on if that is your wish.”

  “I don’t need to be shielded from who you are,” she said before she leant back against him. “If anything you need to be shielded from me. You don’t spontaneously combust.”

  “I can suck the life force out of any living thing though.” Anya laughed before she could stop herself.

  “It’s not a competition,” she said.

  “I know,” he replied as he ran his hands up her arms. She glanced over her shoulder at him and saw him looking at the ends of her hair like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. She turned slowly so she could look him in the eyes.

  “Don’t lie to me again. I don’t care how terrible the truth is.”

  “I won’t, I promise. I am sorry.”

  “Good,” she pushed his glasses to the top of his head, “Did you feed a lot tonight?”

  “Yes I did but I didn’t kill anyone. You see with hospitals-” But he didn’t get to finish what he was saying because her lips were on his.

  “Will you stay with me tonight? I am not going to get any sleep otherwise.”

  “Okay,” he kissed her forehead. “Let’s get you into bed.” He helped her out of the bathtub and started to unbutton his shirt.

  “You had better stop right there,” Anya said as she focussed on the ceiling, “I am going to have enough trouble trying to sleep as it is without you half naked.”

  “As you wish,” he said, placing his glasses on the bedside table before climbing in beside her.

  “What if I really did go to the Land of the Dead?” she asked, her voice very small. Trajan moved closer to her and placed his arm around her waist.

  “I have been to the Land of the Dead and believe me, what you described was very far from it.”

  “I just don’t understand.”

  “We will work it out in the morning. Close your eyes, I will still be here.”

  Trajan woke a few hours later. He watched Anya sleep for a little while, a frown forming on his face. They were going to need more help than just Katya’s friends. Shamans were all well and good but they would need tough muscle as well. Leaving Anya sleeping he went and found his address book and dialled an international number.

  “Burnt Downs Station,” a woman’s curt voice answered.

  “Good day, I was wondering if Hamish Hudson would be available.”

  “You a copper?”

  “I assure you madam I am not. I am one of Hamish’s acquaintances.”

  “You sound like a copper. Look Hamish ain’t in. He’s out mustering and isn’t due back to the station for another three days.”

  “Could you please tell him Trajan called and that I need him to come to Paris? It is important.”

  “I need him to bring the cattle in first then you can have him. Not for too long mind you, because he works hard, unlike some of the other good for nothing bastards out here.”

  “Of course. Just tell him it is urgent and if he needs money to call me.”

  “No worries. I’ll let him know.” The phone went dead and Trajan sighed. At least he knew where Hamish was. Now all he could do was wait and hope he would turn up in good time.

  Anya woke well past midday. Trajan wasn’t beside her so she got up and made her way downstairs. She found everyone had congregated in the kitchen. Izrayl passed her a plate with a sandwich on it and gave her a wink.

  “Look who’s finally awake!” Katya said loudly. Anya could see the outlines of the bandage patches underneath the fabric of her clothes and wondered if she should really be up and about. A phone blared loudly, cutting off all conversation. Katya pulled an electric purple mobile from her pocket and answered it.

  “Heya! I was just talking about you boys!” she yelled excitedly. Anya couldn’t help but laugh at her exuberance. A dark frown appeared on Izrayl’s face.

  “What do you mean you saw me on a peyote trip? The wolf? Yeah I know who he is.” She gave Izrayl a wicked smile before she started laughing at something the man on the other end said and fluttered out of the room. Izrayl watched her go before letting out a long growl in the back of his throat that made the hair on Anya’s arms stand on end. She sat down next to Trajan and he leant over to kiss her cheek. Anya watched Izrayl as he stood looking at the door.

  “Go after her,” she suggested. “I am worried she is going to bust a stitch.”

  “Knowing her she will bust seven,” Izrayl sighed as he went out the door.

  “If I didn’t know better I would say that you are trying to match-make Anyanka,” Trajan said as he sipped his coffee.

  “I am just worried about her, that’s all.”

  “Of course you are.”

&n
bsp; “So where are you anyway?” Chayton asked Katya. She had moved outside into a small courtyard and spread out on one of the cushioned sun beds.

  “I’m in Paris. I was attacked a few nights ago just as you saw. The girl with me, Anya, is so full of magic and has had no training at all. I need you and Honaw to come help me.”

  “I knew you would that’s why I called. We are coming to you,” Chayton assured her. “So tell me about this wolf? You seemed pretty upset in my vision. You dating him, ciqala?” Chayton always called her ‘little one’ every time he was teasing her.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know? He saved my ass Chay, he really did.”

  “It’s not your ass I am worried about. It’s that soft little heart of yours. If he breaks it, it will be his ass in trouble.”

  “You know I can handle him and his ass,” assured Katya.

  “I know ciqala; it doesn’t mean we can’t torment him if he does.”

  “Let me know when you land and I will come to get you, okay?”

  “Last time I saw you, you were riding a motorcycle, have you got a side car for Honaw?” Katya heard sharp protests in the background. She laughed hard and loud.

  “Last time I didn’t have friends with flash cars. Don’t worry, there won’t be a sidecar. Tell Honaw I will let him ride in front with me if he is nice.”

  A deep growl from behind her made her jump with fright. Izrayl’s face appeared upside down over her. Katya tried to ignore him but his gold eyes were glowing.

  “Of course you can stay with me, Chay. Trajan wants you here so you can help Anya,” her voice broke slightly. Izrayl moved slowly around her sun bed, his shoulders moving more wolf than man. Katya tried desperately to concentrate on what Chayton was saying but she felt like a rabbit that was about to be pounced on.

  “The last time you boys and I got on the drink I danced on a table and we all ended up hung over for a week. I don’t think we are going to have that level of freedom this time,” she said, not taking her eyes off him. Izrayl leant forward and placed his burning hands on her cool, exposed ankles.

 

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