Anya had always felt claustrophobic on trains and the closer she came to Russia the more agitated she became.Trajan understood her anxiety and was doing his best to distract and calm her. He told her stories of the relatives she had never known and had been reading aloud to her. He was also a lot more relaxed with touching and kissing her occasionally. Anya suspected it was the strangest relationship in the world but she had no experience to compare it to. Whatever it was, it was enough for her.
“Do you know that you are drinking too much again?” Yvan said behind her. Anya sat in a booth in what she called the vodka carriage, the only place she could successfully hide. Obviously it wasn’t anymore.
“And?” She made a point of taking a long swallow of her drink. Yvan moved and sat opposite her. He had been playing cards and arguing playfully with Cerise hours before and while Anya was happy they were getting along it bothered her.
“Is there a reason for the drinking?”
“Boredom. Nerves. Magic bugging me. You name it.”
“Getting drunk everyday won’t help any of that and you know it.”
“How’s Cerise?” Anya asked abruptly.
“Cerise? She is fine, why ask me?” Yvan’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“You two seem to be getting awfully friendly.”
“I am awfully friendly with everybody. How is your human- thanatos relationship working?”
“It’s going just fine.”
“How nice for you.”
“It is yes.”
“If it’s so great how come you are hiding in the back of the train drinking by yourself?” Anya scowled but couldn’t think of a reply. Yvan sighed and helped himself to her vodka, draining it in one gulp.
“I am not going to argue with you shalosť. I just think there should be someone in your life who is not going to indulge you. You should be using the time on this train to learn some more magic from Honaw and Chayton, not drinking the entire vodka supply.” He got to his feet and looked down on her. “Get focussed and stop wallowing.” He hesitated before he bent down and kissed the top of head whispering, “Get some sleep occasionally.” He left her sitting there drunk and ashamed. He was disappointed and that killed her more than anything he could have said. As soon as the carriage door shut Anya burst into tears.
She was running the sleeves of her grey sweater over her face to wipe off her tears when she spotted the stranger again. Tall, impossibly fair and looking at her with a mixture of horror and surprise. He went to open the door to the carriage but he stopped, turned around and disappeared along the aisle. Anya’s chest was filled with instant pressure and she fought to push down the magic threatening to break out of her. Shaking and drunk she got to her feet and hurried back to her own compartment. In the morning she wondered if the man had even been there.
Over the next few days Anya spent her time with Chayton and Honaw as Yvan suggested. They were trying to teach her how to use the drum she had been given. Like Baba Zosia they didn’t dare touch it in case the symbols changed. Anya wanted to tell them about the man she had seen who had disrupted her magic so much. If it wasn’t for the fact she had been drunk when she had seen him both times she probably would have asked. For all she knew he could be a figment of her imagination. She had seen more than impossible things when under the influence. Once she had seen the fire place in the house on the farm glowing florescent purple. No, she would keep him to herself, at least until she saw him sober. Then she would send Isabelle and Katya to rough him up for scaring her so much.
“What is it?” Trajan’s face came into focus in front of her and she snapped back into reality. They were eating in one of the dining cars and the noise of clanking cutlery and people talking was almost deafening.
“Nothing, just thinking,” she replied vaguely.
“Are you and Yvan talking to each other yet?” He looked at her over the top of his glasses.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come now Anya, you haven’t spoken to him in days. I believe this would have to be some kind of record. Usually you two are thick as thieves. Did you have a disagreement?”
“Something like that. We will get over it don’t worry.”
“I am not worried nor am I complaining about having you to myself for once. But still, don’t let some small oversight become an incurable problem. You care for each other too much for that.” Anya looked at him and smiled. Only Trajan would say it like that; an ‘incurable problem.’ He wore a burgundy scarf around his neck today that set off his eyes and contrasted boldly with his dark curls. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a nervous habit that Anya didn’t think he was even aware of.
Something pale flashed over his shoulder and Anya saw her phantom stranger sitting at the end tables. Her breath caught as her power rushed to her head and tried to break free of her. It wanted to reach out and touch him. Anya felt possessed like she had the night she escaped from Völundr and her magic had taken over. She dug her nails into her palms to snap her out of it. The stranger was looking at Trajan the way a gardener looks at a slug and he screwed up his face. He noticed Anya watching him and his expression relaxed as he inclined his head in recognition. Slowly he tucked the paper he had been reading under his arm and departed from the carriage. Anya finally felt like she could breathe again.
“I think you are right,” she said and got to her feet. “I need to go and speak with Yvan.” Trajan opened his mouth to say something but she grabbed him by the soft fabric of his scarf and pulled him in for a quick kiss before hurrying after her phantom.
By the time Anya moved into the next carriage the stranger was gone. She glanced over her shoulder a few times as she hurried to Yvan’s compartment. Without knocking she barged in only to find the firebird in full flaming glory perched on the metal bar of the bed. Swearing she pulled the door shut behind her before a curious passenger accidentally looked in.
“Hey is Yvan in there? I really need to talk to him,” she said as she sat down on the bed beside it. It cooed at her and Anya got the distinct impression she was getting a cold shoulder. She slowly released some of her magic so her hand lit up with its own fire. Very carefully to not startle it she gently stroked its back. “I know he’s annoyed with me but this is important.” It ignored her and too tired to fight she lay down to wait it out.
She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, the firebird said as it looked down on her. Deep inside of him Yvan squirmed. If I let you out you do you promise not to upset her? Look how tired she is. She is fading under the strain. You are meant to be the one to stop it from happening. You promised to protect her.
Let me out so I can! Yvan shouted. The firebird’s wing touched her cheek before it started to change. Yvan tried to hold in the cries of pain so not to wake her. In moments he lay naked and panting on the thin carpet floor. He looked up uncertainly but Anya hadn’t moved. He got to his feet and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans. The firebird was right, she did look drained. He had been harsh but at least she had stopped drinking quite so much. He wondered if Trajan knew she had been sneaking off to the bar when everyone was sleeping. Trajan could still be clueless about the most mundane of things.
It’s not up to him to take care of her. It’s up to you.
Why do you care so much about what I am meant to do? Yvan snapped.
Isn’t it obvious? I care so much about her because you do. You can just be too stupid to see it sometimes.
That’s not helping.
It is the truth though. Yvan ignored it as he carefully placed a spare blanket over Anya. He brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips. It seemed unfair that someone as young her had so much responsibility. He sat down on the floor and rested his back against the bed.
Anya moved in her sleep and her arm flopped down beside him. As he was tucking it back in her fingers tightened around his and held them. Yvan thought about waking her but decided she needed the sleep more than he needed his hand.
Anya wok
e to see Yvan pulling on a t-shirt. “Nice to see you,” she said sleepily.
“Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“You looked like you needed it.” Anya sat up slowly and ran her hands through her hair. “About the other night,” he continued, “I am sorry if I upset you.”
“Don’t be sorry, you were right after all. I came to tell you that and I think there is someone on the train following me.” Yvan sat down next to her as she told him about the stranger and how her magic had reacted to him.
“Have you told anyone else?” Yvan asked.
“Just you. I knew you wouldn’t think I am crazy.”
“Well not completely crazy.” He smiled just at the corner of his mouth and Anya found herself smiling back.
“Shut up. I am serious, this man worries me. I don’t think he is Darkness. He’s something else. It’s like my magic wants to reach out and touch him. It has never done that before.”
“How do you know he wasn’t one of the Darkness?”
“I don’t but he just didn’t feel…evil. I don’t think my magic would have reacted like that if he was. I met Vasilli and Völundr and I never experienced anything like that.”
“Just watch yourself. It’s always possible that it’s just a coincidence. If he is intent on making himself known to you he will.”
***
Aramis watched Anya leave the compartment of her tall male companion. Aramis only briefly saw him but even then he saw that the man was lit up with a magical aura as bright as the sun. As he followed her she glanced around cautiously as if she sensed his presence. Her trailing magic left a red signature and it clung to surfaces wherever it landed. No wonder the Darkness could find her so easily. It was going to be harder to protect her than he originally thought. And there was no doubt in his mind she would need protecting. She was so much like Yanka that people out there would kill her on sight for that alone.
Aramis thought he would be able to perform this assignment with relative ease, even with his history with her family. But one glance at those green eyes and pale, pale hair and he had to fight not to go to her. To tell her everything. It wasn’t Anya who he was seeing though. It was Yanka.
Anya had many powerful bodyguards and was already suspicious of him. He had caught a glimpse of Isabelle Blackwood on the train, a legend even among the Illumination. Then there was the Thanatos, who was very obviously her lover. Anger had washed through him when he had seen them together. To get involved with a Death Spirit was to court death itself. She didn’t seem nervous or repulsed yet she would have to know what he truly was.
Aramis knew he was going to have to wait to get her alone. She wasn’t the type to trust anyone lightly. He didn’t like the thought of using compulsion magic on her in order to get her trust but he didn’t see another choice. Before leaving the carriage he gave a careless flick of his hand and the scarlet magic faded away.
***
Anya pulled on her jeans and jacket and stumbled into the corridor. It was dark and quiet which was exactly what she needed. She had felt better since she had a sleep and a talk with Yvan but when she had tried to go back to her own bed, she was left wide awake and staring at the ceiling. She felt the crushing vulnerability of being alone in a strange place. Trajan was a creature of the night and had left her to sleep. But she hadn’t slept. She had twisted herself back into a ball of worry and fear that had momentarily had been eased by Yvan’s presence.
Trains were never really quiet, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t block out the clacking sound of the tracks and the hum of the other passengers. The closer to Russia the more uneasy she became. Her magic was starting to annoy her again and despite the exercises Chayton and Honaw taught her she could feel the thrum of it under her skin.
Anya caught her reflection in the train windows and shuddered. Her hair was a shambles and she had dark circles under her eyes. She hastily pulled her hair back in a ponytail and rubbed her cheeks to get some colour into them.
She made her way to the vodka carriage where she knew she wouldn’t be disturbed. She had denied herself for days but she couldn’t handle the power running under her skin annoying her a moment longer. Drinking was the only thing that would dull it down enough for her muscles to relax. The tired barman smiled at her and handed her a glass of vodka before going back to reading his book.
Anya sat down in one of the booths and watched the stars flash by. Her magic flared intensely as she sipped her second vodka. The phantom stranger was opening the door of the carriage. Anya glanced over at the barman but he had fallen asleep on the counter. With no other doors out she was trapped. She fought the panic that started to smother her.
The stranger’s blue eyes glanced over at her as he walked past and helped himself to the bar. “It would seem we are the only two people who can’t sleep,” he said in one of the most unusual voices Anya had ever heard; gentle, deep with a touch of husk and had a lilting unidentifiable accent.
“Trains are too noisy for me to sleep,” Anya replied warily as she watched him. He could just be a passenger; a normal human passenger she had just happened to notice.
“I am claustrophobic so trains aren’t my favourite form of travel either.” He sat down opposite her. He was without a doubt one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. “Forgive me, I am Aramis.”
“Like the musketeer?”
“So I have been told,” Aramis replied, the faintest of blushes colouring his cheeks.
“Anya.” He offered her his hand to shake it and very hesitantly, and more to be polite, she took it. Her magic flared brightly and began rushing to her palm. She tried to yank her hand back but Aramis held it firm.
“Let me go! I don’t want to hurt you!”
“You will not hurt me, Anya. Try to relax.” Her magic burst forth from her palm in two scarlet translucent ribbons that twisted around Aramis’s forearm. It looked as if it were caressing him. Slowly, it retracted back to Anya and disappeared under her skin.
“What the hell are you?” she demanded as he let go of her hand. Her power had never materialised like that before. She wouldn’t have thought it could.
“I am with the Illumination. I have come to protect you.”
“Vittu tätä paskaa,” she swore. “What the hell do you people want from me?”
“We do not want anything from you. I can help you, if you will let me.”
“Why? I have done nothing wrong, you don’t even know me.”
“That is where you are wrong, Anyanka. We do know you. The Illumination has kept files on your family since Yanka crossed into this world. We know who your parents are, how they met, when you were born. Unfortunately your grandfather kept the extent of your powers a secret from us.”
“I wonder why he would do that?” she interrupted sarcastically.
“Perhaps he was concerned we would take you away from him for proper training.”
“Or he didn’t want you using me like every other bastard wants to. The Darkness, the Illumination, the Powers. You are all the fucking same.”
“We are on the side of good.”
“That depends on which side you’re standing on.”
“You are terribly stubborn aren’t you?” he said unexpectedly.
“Yes I am and I am extremely suspicious and not very trusting.”
“I can tell.” His lips were curling up in amusement. Anya began to feel the anger drain out of her. “Regardless, I have a team onboard to assist if you are attacked.”
“I really don’t think I can handle any more baby sitters, Aramis.” Anya got up and went to the bar to get the bottle of vodka. The bartender was out cold and slumped over the sink. Anya looked over to Aramis who watched her carefully. He probably suspected she would try to bolt. She would have if she didn’t have to get past him to get to a door.
“I don’t want us to be disturbed so he won’t be waking any time soon,” Aramis assured, “Your file sa
id you had a drinking problem.” He looked pointedly at the bottle in her hand.
“My drinking is none of your business.” She sat back down and filled her cup. Aramis took the bottle and filled his own.
“I must admit there wasn’t a terrible lot of information about you. What we found in Paris will make an interesting addition.”
“What is it you think you found in Paris?” Anya’s heart was starting to panic again. They had been to Trajan’s house. They would have seen the bodies.
“A man had been turned into a perfect ash sculpture. Only magic could have done such a thing.”
“It was self-defence.”
“I have no doubt. Can I ask who he was?”
“I don’t know. I assume he was with the Darkness.”
“Why is that?”
“Because they kidnapped and tortured me and my friend. Because they are hunting me. They were the ones who broke into our house and tried to kill us. That man had a knife at my throat. He had it coming.”
“How did you escape them when they kidnapped you? By burning their headquarters down?”
“How did you know about that?” Anya demanded. She hated that she sounded afraid instead of angry.
“Your magic residue was left all over it. Tell me what happened?”
“Why should I?”
“Because I am trustworthy,” he smiled as he touched her hand. Her power purred as a tingling warmth spread from him.
“What are you?” she whispered. “Why does my magic react to you like this?” Her eyes filled with tears, overwhelmed by the power that began to pour into her. “You want me to trust you but you won’t even tell me who you really are.”
“I told you. My name is Aramis and I am with the Illumination.”
“What else are you?”
“If I tell you, will you tell me how you came to be on this train? Will you trust me and believe that I am here to help you, Anyanka?” His fingers were lightly stroked the soft underside of her wrist.
“Yes, I will tell you everything,” she found herself saying dreamily. Warm mist was rolling through her and the incessant twitching of power under her skin calmed.
Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1) Page 33