Ashes of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 2)

by Kuivalainen, Amy

  “I’m sorry I’m so tired,” Aleksandra said. “I haven’t been sleeping at all.”

  “Are you too scared to dream about Mychal?”

  “No, not scared. I know he can handle himself. I don’t want to wake up missing him. I barely know him! I feel so fucking stupid.”

  “I know the feeling. I’m starting to think I should have left Trajan in Europe.”

  “At least you get to see him.”

  Because that makes it better, Anya thought bitterly. “Go to sleep, Aleki. You’re no good like this.”

  “I know. I feel like I’m going completely nuts again like I was before I came from Skazki.”

  “Well, you can do what you want. I’m going to go to sleep because I don’t have the will power to stay awake anymore. You should think about doing the same,” Anya said as she got to her feet. After days of travelling, she needed a long shower and to be left alone.

  Anya woke to the sound of Aleksandra’s screams. She jumped out of her bed, raced to Aleksandra’s room and switched on the lamp. They had slept the entire afternoon away and into the night. Aleksandra was tangled up in her sheets and drenched in sweat.

  “Aleki! Wake up!” Anya grabbed hold of her arms. Aleksandra’s blue eyes shot open in panic. The terror of the dream was still real in them.

  “Mychal,” she said before breaking into sobs. “I have to go back to Budapest.”

  “Shh, you aren’t responsible for him. Are you okay?” Anya loosened the sheets that we choking her.

  “No, Anya. I’m very, very far from okay. Why did I have to be the one to be haunted by him?”

  “I don’t know. I do know that if you ask the why me questions you’re going to be driven completely mad. Why did Tuoni have to give me a firebird egg? Why did I have to fall in love with Trajan only to be lost to him forever? Why do I have to rescue Yanka when everyone keeps telling me how bad an idea it is? You know why, Aleksandra? Just because.” Anya brushed the dark, damp hair from Aleksandra’s face. She seemed to be calming down a little.

  Katya? Are you awake? Anya reached out gently.

  Unfortunately. What’s wrong?

  Aleksandra is really upset and I am unqualified.

  I’ll be there soon.

  It didn’t take long for there to be a rap at the door. Anya let in a very dishevelled, disgruntled creature that faintly resembled Katya.

  “Where is she?”

  “In her room. Try not to upset her more.”

  “This is about fucking Mychal, isn’t it?”

  “Got it in one.” Katya ran her hands through her scruffy hair and rubbed her face.

  “She is so lucky that Izrayl’s snoring is keeping me awake tonight.”

  “She’s dreaming of him again and she is really scared. Be a sister to her.”

  “You seem qualified enough to me. Why did you call me in?” Katya asked.

  “Because,” Anya said as she let out a big yawn, “I’m going back to sleep.”

  ***

  Legba’s Ladies was exactly the way Isabelle remembered it. It was a large warehouse building built of sheet metal and tall beams. Along the front and sides of the building was a gargantuan mural of Papa Legba and bright vever symbols.

  Tired and jet lagged everyone else had gone to sleep as soon as they reached the hotel. Isabelle waited until Hamish was asleep and went to find Harley.

  It was late afternoon so majority of the girls had finished up for the day. Harley and Fox sat at the computer arguing over a design. Blue Jay stood watching on with a bemused expression on his face.

  “Still bitching about the little things, I see,” Isabelle said. Harley was up and rushing towards her in the blink of an eye. Isabelle caught her and held her.

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow!”

  “Surprise. Everyone is sleeping. You won’t see them until the barbecue tomorrow night. They are such lightweights,” Isabelle laughed. Harley let her go and she got a hug from Blue Jay and Fox.

  Soon they were sitting around with a couple of beers like old times. In a corner of the work shop there was some old couches that the girls ate lunch on. Isabelle had been drunk on them many times.

  “How much time do I have before we leave?” Harley asked.

  “It depends; I was hoping a week or so at the most. I want it to be over with,” Isabelle answered honestly. “It also depends on what kind of plan Aramis has. We will be able to collaborate a lot more successfully now that we are in the same city.”

  “Fox is worried about him.” The lady in question frowned at Harley.

  “I’m not worried,” she said stubbornly.

  “He is okay, Fox. You’ll meet him tomorrow night. He went Rogue for Anya. He wouldn’t do that if he is secretly still with the Illumination.”

  “I’m not worried about them! I’m worried about these fucking non-existent Álfr. Mama Lya was concerned too. It’s not only me.”

  “You and Mama will meet him tomorrow and see for yourselves,” said Harley. “If there is some bad going on inside of his soul Mama will know.”

  ***

  The backyard party was in full swing before Anya or the others even arrived. She felt very pale and awkward in the pale blue summery dress that Cerise had picked out for her. Cerise had insisted and had not listened to any of her arguments.

  Anya loved the exterior of Legba’s Ladies when they arrived. Harley was holding the party in the backyard of the shop. She had walked through the shop and admired all the motorcycles on the way through.

  “Hey, I’m Harley,” a beautiful, brown skinned woman came to introduce herself. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a khaki singlet. She offered Anya her hand and when Anya took it, she gasped.

  “Oh!” Harley’s eyes went wide, “You must be Anya.” Anya’s magic surged up to touch Harley’s. It felt old, deep and thrummed like an echo of jungle drums.

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make it stop doing that,” Anya hastily apologised. She knew what it was like having someone else’s power poke around inside of her and it wasn’t a very comfortable experience.

  “Don’t worry about it. You want a beer?” she asked. Anya found herself liking Harley immediately. The Twins were walking behind her looking relaxed in their matching jeans and black singlets.

  “You look so cute,” Honaw teased her, “like a porno version of Alice in Wonderland. I like it.” Anya whacked him but he laughed. A slender girl with black hair walked towards them with a big smile on her face.

  “Geeze, Harley I didn’t know my birthday had come early!” she said as she admired the Twins openly. “Did you get them at a two for the price of one store?”

  “Don’t mind Fox,” Harley said, coming to their rescue. “She has an artist’s appreciation for good looking men.” The two women got quick introductions all round. Hamish grabbed Harley in a tight hug and she squealed. Isabelle looked on, ready to intervene if he was enjoying himself too much.

  Anya noticed Fox’s eyes scan Aramis and she felt an odd, protective rush towards him. He had purposely dressed as casual as everyone else in jeans and a grey tee shirt but still managed to look over dressed. Like in all social situations, Anya found herself moving away to the edge of the crowd.

  “Hey, I’m Blue Jay,” a man approached her and handed her a beer.

  “I’m Anya, thanks,” she said as she took it. “Would you like a hand with anything?” Fold out tables had been set up with a bunch of unmatched chairs. There was a barbecue cooking in the corner and the tables were already groaning with food.

  “I think Harley has taken care of it all. She doesn’t look it but she is an absolute control freak.” Blue Jay smiled as he glanced over to where the lady in question was talking animatedly with Katya and Aleksandra. Seeing the look on his face, Anya knew he was in love.

  “Never mind, I know quite a few of them.”

  “Quite a few of who?” Yvan asked as he appeared beside her.

  “Control f
reaks.”

  “I hope you don’t think I fit in that category.”

  “You are in a separate one all of your own,” Anya said.

  “Insanely handsome category? Fiercely intelligent category?” he questioned playfully. His eyes were lit up with mischief.

  “In love with himself category?” she asked innocently. He grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug.

  “You’re lucky you look so adorable in that dress. No one else would get away with that,” he said. She looked up at him and smiled sweetly.

  “It is pretty lucky. Hey, you said I look adorable!”

  “You do,” Blue Jay agreed with a shrug before he turned back to the grill and flipped over some marinated chicken and ribs. Anya found herself smiling properly for the first time in months. Yvan let her go and Anya saw the look on Trajan’s face. It was angry and jealous. When her eye caught Aramis’s face, he was looking back and forth between Anya and Yvan curiously. She pretended not to notice and had another drink.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven- The Sound of His Heart

  Aleksandra was doing her best to have a good time. Everyone else was. The sun had gone down and they were eating, drinking and talking loudly. It was the most relaxed Aleksandra had ever seen the group since joining them in Budapest.

  Harley’s grandmother had arrived and so had her gentleman friend Abélard. Mama Lya had so much power that Aleksandra felt as if her skin was humming whenever she was near. She got the feeling it was tightly reined in, like she wasn’t revealing even half of her potential. It made Aleksandra cautious and on edge. Anya had greeted Mama Lya politely and respectfully as had Chayton, Honaw and Aramis.

  “So Aleksandra, where do you fit into this big old mess?” Abélard asked her gently. The others were talking loudly and paying them no attention whatsoever.

  “I’m not sure, Mr Abélard. I’m Katya’s sister and I kinda fell into it.”

  “Please call me, Abélard. Can I be rude enough to ask what happened to your hands?” Aleksandra lowered her gloved hands into her lap.

  “Hey, darling, I’m not picking on you or trying to make you uncomfortable,” he said as he reached out and took them.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really self-conscious about them.”

  “Never mind, if you don’t want to tell me then that’s all fine.” Aleksandra hesitated a moment, then gave in. She told him about the dreams starting, how the demons had burnt her and Baba Zosia kicking her out of the tribe. She told him about finally meeting Mychal and the massacre at Saint Matthias.

  “Wasn’t this Mychal supposed to be with you guys?” Abélard asked before he lit one of his thin black cigars.

  “Yes, well no. I don’t know. I had hoped he would come with us. He just…didn’t.” Aleksandra felt the dead, cold weight inside of her. She should have forced him to come somehow. Begged him. Her gloved hand went to her side as she tried to breathe through the pain.

  “He’s a damn fool for letting a beautiful, brave girl like you slip through his stupid fingers.”

  “Thank you, though he isn’t stupid at all. He has a bigger price on his head than I do. At least they can’t use me to get at him. He has done the right thing about getting away from me.”

  “You really miss him, don’t you?” The fact that even a stranger could be so astute bothered her.

  “Yes, I really do. Excuse me, I need to go for a little walk,” Aleksandra said as she got up. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she smiled and tried acting normal. Katya was in a healthy debate with Aramis so she wouldn’t even notice she had gone.

  Once she had gotten in front of the shop, she leaned over and tried to steady her breathing. God, was she ever going to get over this madness? She walked out in the quiet streets away from the noise and eyes of the others. She needed to be alone. The night was warm and the white cotton dress that Cerise had packed for her hung comfortably. The air was moist and stuck to her skin along with the fragrances of the ocean and blooming magnolias. She heard jazz music playing in the distance. She wished that she was in a better mood and could enjoy it.

  “You lost cher?” a voice asked. Aleksandra looked up and spotted a figure in the shadows.

  “No, I’m not, thank you,” she said politely.

  “You certainly look like a lost little lamb.” Aleksandra looked up at him annoyed. Then her hands started burning. She gasped and sunk slowly to her knees, tears of pain pouring down her face.

  “I have to say you have been hard to track down little witch,” the voice stepped from the shadows to pick her up by the back of dress and drag her into the alley. It lifted her back to her feet and clutched her hair tightly.

  The demon looked familiar. It had long auburn hair and wore a crumpled suit.

  “Where is Mychal, little witch?” It demanded as it yanked her hair back. She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming.

  “I-I don’t know,” she stammered.

  “Do not lie!” it hissed. “The Mychal would not have let you go.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s still in Budapest.” Aleksandra’s hands were burning fiercely. The cross that Mychal had given her had started to heat up against her skin.

  “Mychal is not in Budapest! Do not lie or I shall rip out your kidney and feed it to you.” I am about to die, Aleksandra thought an odd calm descended on her.

  “I will never give you Mychal,” she spat as she looked into its cold eyes.

  It threw her roughly against the stone wall of the building. All the air was knocked out of her as she fell onto the concrete footpath. She felt warm liquid running from her shoulder. She looked up and saw the demon standing a few metres from her.

  “Tell me,” it growled.

  “No,” her voice was barely a whisper.

  “I could have made you a queen in this world, little witch.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “I can give you whatever you want.”

  “No, you can’t,” Aleksandra tried to sit up. The side that she had hit the wall on was going numb.

  “Name it and it shall be yours. If you give him to us.”

  “You cannot give me what I want,” Aleksandra wheezed, “because I want Mychal.” The demon picked her up and shook her as if she was a rag doll.

  “So you have chosen death.”

  “I will never give him to you.” The demon growled and raised its clawed hand. Aleksandra smiled. Mychal was safe and she would finally dream no more.

  “Death then.” Aleksandra saw something black fall from the roof behind the demon. It screamed and dropped her. There was a sword embedded deep into the top of its shoulder. It gurgled, spitting at her before its head was removed. The quivering corpse crumbled to the ground spewing out black oozing blood leaving only its attacker standing over it.

  “Sorry I’m late,” said Mychal as he flicked the mess from his sword.

  “Mychal,” she sobbed, unable to say anything else as her body screamed in pain, “Mychal.”

  “Careful, you’re hurt,” he said as he knelt down beside her. Aleksandra grabbed his coat with her good hand. He was real and not a hallucination.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he said gently. Aleksandra didn’t care. He was there, that’s all that mattered. “Do you remember what your hotel was called?” Aleksandra searched her memory and gave him the name she had seen on the building.

  “Katya…”

  “Don’t worry about your sister. We can call her from the hotel. You’re bleeding, we need to go.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said dozily as darkness crept in.

  “It does matter. I didn’t cross oceans for you to bleed out on the street.”

  “Why did you then?” Mychal didn’t reply. He lifted her easily into his arms and the last thing she knew was the resonating sound of his heart.

  ***

  Back at the workshop, the party was winding down. Anya had spent most of the night talking with Fox about the craziness her life had turned into
.

  “You know what, Anya? I know what you need,” Fox had said with a cheeky smile, “You need to come with me for the night and I will take you out and have some fun. Seriously, if you do not blow off some steam soon your head is going to explode.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know how I will get away from the chaperones like Aleksandra managed.”

  “She only went back to the hotel because she was feeling unwell,” Fox pointed out. They had received a call on Katya’s mobile to say Aleksandra was sorry but she had bowed out for the evening. Abélard was worried that he might have offended her. Anya had reassured him that it was Mychal that was the problem with her.

  “I’m serious. These people are not your keepers no matter what they tell you,” argued Fox. “Fuck it. Come with me for the night. I’m quite capable of kicking some ass if needed and I am sure you have enough power to blast the bejesus out of them.”

  “Okay fine,” Anya said before shouting over everyone else talking, “I’m going out with Fox tonight and you can’t stop me!”

  “Anya’s drunk again,” Izrayl laughed.

  “I am not! I’m going and I won’t be home tonight.”

  “Do you think that is a good idea?” Aramis asked.

  “I think it is a great idea,” Anya replied stubbornly. Yvan looked concerned but knew her well enough not to argue with her.

  Within two hours, Anya was very drunk and very afraid.

  ***

  Aleksandra woke lying face down on one of the tables in the hotel room and couldn’t remember how she got there. She heard the door open as she was about to attempt to climb off it.

  “Don’t you even think about moving,” came a stern voice. She looked over her shoulder and saw Mychal walking towards her with a bowl of steaming water. She watched him silently, vulnerable and afraid. He didn’t appear fazed by her staring.

  “I broke into the kitchen and raided the medical kit,” he said as he dipped a cloth in the steaming water, “Your shoulder is scratched up badly and you will be really bruised tomorrow.”

  Mychal very slowly dabbed at a wound on her shoulder. She tried not to wince as the antiseptic started to sting. She found if she shut her eyes, it was easier not to think about how much it was hurting or who it was touching her. Aleksandra tried to be indifferent as he unzipped the back of her dress to better clean the scratches. She stayed silent because she knew if she opened her mouth, she would start blabbering and make a fool of herself.