“I have patience when I need to. I have also bought some things you might be able to give me a little insight into.”
“All in good time. The first thing I need you to do is remove your shoes and sit with us,” Chayton instructed as he sat on the thick cream carpet. Honaw followed him without hesitation. Anya unzipped her boots and joined them in the small circle.
“Katya tells me you dream-travelled back in time.” Honaw was looking at her impressed.
“By accident. I talked to my dead matriarch grandmother.”
“Yanka,” breathed Chayton reverently.
“I see Yakaterina has filled you in well.”
“Yanka was an amazing Power.”
“She was one of the Powers?” Anya hadn’t known that Yanka had held ranks with the gods in the Otherworld.
“She apparently gave it all up when she left Skazki. Sometimes there are more important things than power. But like many stories the truth of all those events died when she did.” Chayton offered her his hand.
“Are you sure you want to risk it?” Anya looked at the large brown hand, afraid to touch it.
“It will be fine, Anya.” Very slowly she placed her own palm over his. Nothing happened. “That’s a relief.” The heat between their hands was building slowly.
“I have learnt to block magic leaks. Honaw was unprepared for your reaction or how much power you had,” explained Chayton. “When two people with magic touch, their power also touches. Sometimes it is very mild, like a faint tingle or static electricity…”
“Or you get blown across the room,” Honaw added. Anya was embarrassed but he was smiling when he said it.
“What now?”
“Power is hereditary but it also changes with each child. Sometimes there is more power passed on to one child, whereas their sibling can get nothing.”
“Apparently my father was magically dead before he actually was…dead,” Anya butted in then felt awkward that she had.
“It would appear something different has happened and you are an almost a perfect doppelgänger of Yanka’s power,” Honaw explained.
“Let’s start releasing some of your magic slowly so it’s not all built up in there. Despite all the focus in European magic on ‘spells’ you have to understand you don’t really need any of that. Magic is all about intent. That’s not to say words don’t have power but we will get to that. First you need to be able to form a clear picture in your mind of what you intend to do. We will try something easy to begin with.” Chayton pulled a red apple out of his pocket and placed it in front of her. “Okay. Lift the apple using your magic.”
Anya tried to be serious as she focussed on the apple before closing her eyes slowly. Lift! Lift! Lift! She repeated over and over in her mind but felt nothing. I always liked green apples better anyway. She felt a small rush and opened her eyes.
“Not quite what I was expecting,” Honaw lifted the now green apple off the floor and tossed it lightly in the air. “How do you like to eat them?”
“I like to peel the skin in one long strip,” Anya said. “Then eat that first.” The apple lifted itself and invisible hands started peeling it.
An hour later Katya poked her head in. “Just wanted to see how the magic tricks were coming along. You Thunder Twins settle in okay?”
“Yes little mother we have,” they synced.
“Why does everyone keep calling you two the Thunder Twins?”
Chayton and Honaw looked at each other. “Because we are the Thunder Twins,” they answered in unison.
“Don’t be jerks.” Katya was frowning playfully at them. “Tell her like you first told me.”
“Well we did say we were going to teach Anya about the power of words,” Chayton said and rubbed his chin.
“Okay, story time,” Honaw said and grabbed a small drum from his bag. “Would you like to do the honours, bro?” Chayton took the drum and started to beat a steady rhythm.
They started singing in a strange tongue Anya had never heard before. It sounded as ancient as the world. All the hair on Anya’s body rose to attention as the song wound around her, her magic flaring unexpectedly. The room seemed to fade around them and then they were sitting on a high cliff in a primordial forest. The smell of wood smoke hung in the air and Anya gripped Katya’s hand.
“There are many legends of us. We are sons of the Sun. We are the Twin War Gods and the beloved Two. We are of the red people. We belong to no tribe for we are the land and the water, the forests and the sky. Our language is not Sioux, Dakota or any other. Our language is universal. It was the root of these, before the tribes broke away. This is but one of the legends our people have about us.”
“It begins with a large drought in the plains north of Tulare Lakes where the Tachi people lived. The tribe was starving. In the mountains where the tribe lived in the winter months, there were two little boys.”
Chayton made a complicated gesture with his hand and Anya realised they were in the very mountains of which he spoke. Anya could smell the earth and forest from where they sat and could warm her hands on the fire in front of her.
“The boys were covered in weeping sores from the whippings their parents gave them. They were made to sleep in the dirt until their grandmother took them into her home.”
“The chief of the tribe made a decree that all the people must go in search of a new land where there was sweet water and fertile plains. The runners went out and found land that still had edible roots and berries so the tribe moved there. The parents abandoned the boys and refused to take them to the new lands. Their grandmother stayed with them and for two years they lived off the little amount of food they could find.”
“The boys no longer ate and their grandmother despaired that they would die. But they didn’t for they had turned into thunders. The boys told their grandmother that next month they would have many fish from the spring at the high mountain west of the north end of the lake. The next month, as the boys predicted, they caught many fish and dried them.”
“But the boys didn’t need to eat for they had turned into supernatural beings. At this time their mother’s brother came back to bring the boys a little food. They shot arrows at him and nearly killed him but then they cared for him until he was cured again. He told them to kill their parents when they came back for them. The boys gave their uncle fish to take back to help feed the tribe.”
“When he returned to the tribe he showed them the fish and told them how well off the boys were without them. The boy’s parents went back with a few other people. The boys, angry at their parent’s selfishness, shot them down and killed them. The other people of the tribe began to talk when the others did not return to them with any fish. The Uncle told them they should never go back to that place because the boys who were so rejected by their tribe were now gods. The remainder of the people stayed where they were and troubled the twins no more. The Thunder Twins legend was born and they still live on their mountain called Chenhali.”
Chayton had stopped his story and slowly their mountaintop transformed back into a room in Paris. Anya’s body was tingling with magic and awe of their story.
“Stories have power, as you can feel,” Honaw said. “Your people have a long oral history, Anya. I am sure you know some of it. Become familiar with it because in the old songs and stories lies ancient wisdom and knowledge.”
“Eikki used to tell me stories all the time. The Kalevala, the Poetic Eddas, Russian fairytales, original Grimm stories,” Anya said remembering.
“Good. He was teaching you even if it wasn’t an obvious education. Re-read these stories. I am sure Trajan has them. The stories of your land will always reveal its secrets to you because it calls to your blood. They are the stories that built the land you were born on. They are in you; you just have to remember them.”
***
Isabelle stood in front of the elegant stone mansion. She scanned the street around her before pressing the little red intercom button.
“He
llo?” said a guarded voice.
“My name’s Isabelle Blackwood. I am here to see Katya Domotetsky.” With a loud buzz the gate swung open. Small cameras followed her as she made her way to the polished black door. It opened and a man appeared. He was tall and lithe with curly, dark chestnut hair and was clearly very, very old. Power emanated from him.
“Katya will be along shortly,” he said politely. “Welcome to my home.”
“Thank you.” She held out her hand and he shook it without any hesitation. There was something about him she couldn’t put her finger on. Her senses were burning because usually she knew a creature’s nature by looking at them. He wasn’t human and yet she was drawing a complete blank.
“I am Trajan. Please, come in.” He politely took her coat and hung it in a small cupboard next to the door.
“What are you?” Isabelle asked bluntly.
“What are you?”
“I am different.”
“As am I. We are all honest in this house, I am Thanatos.”
“That is certainly one I haven’t heard before.”
“And you are?”
“I am a hunter who was bitten by something a long time ago.”
“You have a stigmata.”
“Something like that.” An amused smile played around the corners of his mouth and she found herself liking Trajan and his open attitude.
“I think if Katya Domotetsky trusts you then it is because you are extremely trustworthy.”
“Isabelle? I thought I heard your voice,” Katya hurried down the grand staircase, wearing tight black jeans and a purple top, her hair slightly dishevelled.
“Little Katya, been up to mischief have we?” There was a particular glow about her that suggested she and the volk krovi were more than friendly.
“That’s not like me at all,” Katya gave her a lopsided grin. “I see you have met Trajan.”
“Yes, we were just doing a little game of ‘get to know your monsters’,” Isabelle replied.
“Fabulous, that saves me a lot of time,” laughed Katya. Izrayl sauntered down the stairs behind her, pulling on a fresh shirt.
“Hello again,” he said with a bright charming smile.
“Shall we go into the library so we can talk?” Katya suggested.
“I will go and round up the others. I am sure Anya would be ready for a break by now if you will excuse me?” Trajan smiled and headed up the stairs.
“Would you like some tea?” Katya offered.
“Yes, please. It is freezing outside.”
“Izrayl will take you to the library. I won’t be long.” As Izrayl walked past Katya he lightly brushed a hand down her back, a small intimate gesture. Isabelle would never be able to get that close to anyone. Izrayl led her through the gorgeous home until they reached the double doors to the library.
“I must say I am surprised to see Katya getting friendly with a volk krovi,” Isabelle commented as she sat down on one of the armchairs. “Her family do not have a good history with them.”
“It must be my winning personality.” Izrayl flopped down in the opposite chair, pulling his long braid over one shoulder.
“Or your beautiful body.”
“You noticed.”
“If you hurt her, I will kill you. Just to be clear.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Being the complicated creature you are, you would appreciate the true value of someone who you can be your absolute self with. She gives me peace, if not quiet, and I don’t have to hide my true nature from her. Have you ever felt like that?”
“No. Once I thought I had found the right man but my enemies always find me. He would have been in too much danger and that is not something I could risk. Better for him to have a full, safe life.”
“What happened?”
“I left before they could use him to get to me. It was for the best.”
“For whom I wonder?” Izrayl was frowning slightly, giving him a sexy brooding quality. No surprise Katya had succumbed to his obvious charms. Isabelle was surprised she had just told him more about herself than she had another person in years.
“Here we are, two sugars, no milk,” Katya appeared carrying the steaming mug. She passed it to Isabelle before seating herself on the arm of Izrayl’s chair. His arm moved and rested in the small of her back. He gave Katya a look of such infatuation that Isabelle had to hide a smile. Katya hadn’t even noticed it.
Trajan walked into the library leading the Twins, Anya, Cerise and lastly Yvan. Isabelle eyed Anya warily. She was glowing with the flush of magic around her.
“It’s the Thunder Twins!” Isabelle got up and hugged them both tightly. “I haven’t seen you in how long?”
“1963, New York,” Chayton answered her as he kissed her cheek.
“I must say I am surprised to see you here.”
“Likewise. You know we don’t like leaving our home but it was important.” They had all positioned themselves in a rough circle. Isabelle noticed Trajan was holding Anya’s hand easily. Talk about an odd and dangerous pair.
“I’m Yvan.” The tall dark Russian offered her his hand. She shook it politely but jumped when his blue eyes rapidly changed to golden red and back again.
“It is nothing to be concerned about,” he said gently as he sat down. The red haired woman watched her cautiously.
“Cerise, I am a keres,” she said by way of introduction. Isabelle gave her a nod. There wasn’t a normal one amongst them.
“So what is going on? Don’t edit a thing. My senses are going mental and I need clarification. The Illumination and the Darkness are more active than usual and that makes me nervous. What we found last night was beyond anything I have seen in years.”
They told her about Anya and Yvan, Vasilli and Ladislav coming for them and the rest of the story from start to finish.
Hours later Isabelle stumbled out of Trajan’s house with the promise to return to help them whatever the cost. What a mess.
***
See the crow circling high over the Parisian suburb of Neuilly-Sur-Seine. It swoops and dives over a grey stone mansion and lands on a window sill. It cocks its head curiously to one side as it studies the figure within. It hops to the next window and glimpses the fair haired human who fed it earlier that day. Warm red light pulses around her and lingers on objects she touches. The crow flutters nervously to a bathroom window that has been left ajar. Using its sharp beak it works the crack open, little by little, until it can squeeze its feathered body through. On the small basin is a hair brush. The crow hops down from the window, across the porcelain top of the toilet and onto the basin. It claws at the tangle of hair still trapped in the coarse bristles. With a small bundle of silver firmly in its grasp it pushes its way out of the window and soars into the empty sky.
***
Trajan spotted Hamish instantly as he walked off the plane and into the Charles de Gaulle airport. He was unmistakable in a crowd, being taller and broader than everyone else around him. His skin was a tanned golden brown which was almost the same colour as his hair. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief when he saw Trajan leaning casually against a sign with a newspaper tucked under his arm.
“Hey pretty girl, you come here often?” Hamish asked flirtatiously.
“I do if I want to pick up good for nothing cowboys,” Trajan retorted. They laughed and gave each other a brief male hug. “You seem to have dressed up for the occasion. You look like a cowboy who has finally discovered washing.” Hamish pulled down on the blue cowboy shirt he wore, his dark denim jeans had been ironed and even his belt buckle was polished. Usually when Trajan picked him up from a flight Hamish was dishevelled and drunk.
“Gladys wouldn’t let me leave looking like a scruff.”
“I didn’t know you had a lady.”
“She’s an old lady, Trajan. She feels the need to mother me and it’s kinda nice seeing how I never had a mother.” They started walking s
lowly through the brightly lit terminal and towards the exit signs.
“So, tell me what’s going on,” said Hamish. Trajan explained the situation as quickly as he could. Hamish already knew about Izrayl and Trajan coming to Anya’s rescue all those years ago. He didn’t know Trajan had been guarding her ever since.
“You were watching her all this time and she had no idea you were there? You never said anything to her?” Hamish questioned as they got into Trajan’s BMW. Trajan shook his head.
“I thought it best if I didn’t.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Believe me I know.” He told Hamish about Yvan and how they had turned up on his doorstep wet and bedraggled. They talked all the drive home.
“We are going to have a full house so behave yourself,” Trajan said as they stepped out of the car and into the dry garage. “There are ladies so try not to walk around without your trousers on.”
“You just want to ruin all my fun, don’t you? You afraid little Anya will switch camps when she sees what a real man looks like. You know, one who isn’t afraid to touch her.”
“I think we both know that neither of us are ‘real’ men.”
“We really have put our foot in it this time haven’t we?” Hamish mused as they rode up in the elevator.
“We certainly have. Do you not feel up to it?” teased Trajan as his friend laughed.
“I was just wondering how you are going to keep up in a fight with that young filly of yours to tire you out.”
“You know that it’s not her fault we have been hunted across both of the worlds.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. I see you are still as clueless as ever.” The doors opened and Anya was waiting for them. She looked very tousled and sleepy in her camisole and boxer shorts
“I thought I heard you come back,” she said, her voice husky. “Hello Hamish, I’m Anya.”
“Yes, I thought you must be,” he smiled and Trajan had an overwhelming urge to strike him.
“You really should get a dressing gown so you don’t freeze,” Trajan said as he touched her arm lightly.
Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1) Page 26