Ashes of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 2)

by Kuivalainen, Amy

  “I don’t know why he would shield me from that knowledge. I think these Álfr are private but they aren’t malicious. They really have bad feelings towards her though.”

  “When they find you worthy I’m sure they will tell you, even if Aramis will not. I hope for his sake he has no designs on you.”

  “Designs?” Anya said. “Have we come back full circle into not trusting him, Yvan?”

  “I wouldn’t say that but I see too many coincidences where you’re concerned. The fact that he kisses you and all of a sudden takes you off to the Álfr doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “You are the second person to say that to me today.”

  “Who was the first?”

  “Trajan.”

  “He told me you two had argued.”

  “What else did he tell you?” she asked, dreading the answer. She didn’t want to tell him that she was thinking of mending her relationship with Trajan.

  “Does it matter what he told me?” Yvan had a tone, so she knew that he knew.

  “I don’t know, does it?”

  “What do you expect me to do? Tell you that it’s dangerous? Be disappointed in you for wanting to try again?” Aramis being angry and disappointed was bad but this was much, much worse. She hadn’t wanted Yvan to know until she had made up her mind what to do.

  “If makes you feel better, Aramis was upset about it,” she answered, hoping that he couldn’t hear the little choke in her voice.

  “Making you feel bad about it wouldn’t help to make me feel better. Aramis is upset because he is jealous of his position with you and doesn’t want that usurped. I don’t have such insecurities. I have seen you at your very best and you have come to me at your very worst. I know the lines of your soul, so that is why I’m not jealous or insecure,” said Yvan, his accent getting thicker the more frustrated he became, “I can’t blame you for your actions either. I am surprised it has taken this long. Feelings don’t go away, no matter how much you or I might want them to.”

  “You wanted them to go away?” Anya knew that Yvan hadn’t liked the idea of her and Trajan as a couple but he hadn’t voiced his concern in a long while.

  “Yes I did. I didn’t want you being with him to begin with even though Trajan and I have always been good friends. Relationships are complicated; add a Thanatos to it and the complications are tripled. I know you love him. That’s why I don’t say anything and I look the other way. I always saw pain in your future with him. It’s your choice though. I can’t change how you feel. I accept it because it’s what you want.”

  Anya felt treacherous tears build behind her eyes. Aramis used disappointment to hit her weak spot and was good at it. Yvan went by an accepting, forgiving approach, which ripped her up every time.

  “You really need to learn to be harder on me,” she said after a while.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “At least stop being so understanding. It really is annoying how perfect your frame of mind is. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “I could be biding my time and then one day, I will surprise you.”

  “Biding your time for what?”

  “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “One day, you’ll get tired of being so understanding and keeping those annoyed, angry feelings inside that you will spontaneously combust and there will be no more Yvan, only the firebird.”

  “You’re acting like I never get angry at all.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I do, I just don’t do it in front of you.”

  “Why not? I know I have lost it in front of you since day one.”

  “You have enough problems in this group full of over expressive, over passionate people. There needs to be one level headed one.”

  “I think Mychal is going to join you in that exclusive strong and silent group.”

  “I like him.”

  “Me too. I’m glad he came after her. Aleksandra was getting ready to go back to Europe to find him.”

  “They are quiet about it but the love there is very deep. You can feel it radiating off them. It puts the firebird on edge.”

  “Sickening isn’t it?”

  “If you say so. You should really go to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow answering their questions.”

  “You are right,” she said with a sigh, “besides I’m turning into a prune.”

  “Off you go then. Remember to keep calm no matter how much they provoke you. Be good, Anyanka. Win them over with the charm I know is in there somewhere.”

  “I will certainly try. Goodnight, Vanya.” Anya hung up and let the cold loneliness wash over her.

  ***

  In New Orleans, Yvan hung up the phone. A deep cry of anguish was building up in his chest. He had lied to her and lied well. He had struggled to keep a straight face when Trajan had told him about the possibility of a reconciliation with Anya.

  Pearlescent tears of anger began to fill Yvan’s deep blue eyes. Flames start to lick out of his skin and with barely a groan he began to morph. Within seconds, his strong brown limbs changed to elegant wings and fiery red, gold and bronze feathers.

  Not being able to control the noise inside itself any longer, the firebird broke into a song. People walking in the streets below stopped and held their breath. Tears flowed as they listened to the mournful melody. Those who heard it remembered all the deep hurts and heartbreaking pain in their lives. It filled the world around it with its pain. It seemed like the whole city mourned for something it didn’t know or understand.

  Finally, the firebird’s song was spent. The flames died down to simple burnished feathers and it curled up on its bed of pearls to sleep.

  ***

  It had been a very long time since Aramis had seen Ruthann. He still found his way to the forbidding oak door that led to his study with shocking ease. Aramis had been called to his office enough times that it had been permanently etched in his brain.

  He pulled a silken cord that hung from the ceiling and a light, tinkling a bell inside. A very tall elegant Álfr answered the door. He had very fair hair that hung straight to his waist.

  “Come in, Aramis,” he said, without a smile. Aramis did as he was told. Ruthann shut the door behind them and took a seat behind a carved, ebony table.

  “It is nice to see you again, my lord. I wish it was under different circumstances,” said Aramis politely as he sat down on a chair in front of the table.

  “That would be my wish also, Aramis. Please remove the charm that covers your true form or I shall do it for you.”

  Aramis whispered a few words and he felt his features start to transform. His thick platinum hair grew until it hung in long curling waves. Black curving ink lines made their way to the surface of his skin, which was now paler and luminous; his already bold blue eyes grew vibrant.

  “That is better. Søren tells me you have left the Illumination.”

  “That is correct.”

  “May I ask why after all this time?”

  “I became aware of some of their treatment of prisoners. The behaviour not only went against what they claim as their moral code, but also my own. I couldn’t stay.”

  “I understand that would be an issue. Is that all?”

  “They wanted me to give Anyanka over to them. I refused on the basis of her wellbeing,” he said and fought the urge to squirm.

  “Who are you to make such a call on her life?”

  “She made it. I enforced it. She had a very strong view on people trying to run her life for her.”

  “Is that why you decided to put the elvianth on her? So you can keep track of what she does?”

  “No, Ruthann. That was pure accident. Her magic reacts strangely to mine and it happened when they mingled. If I could do it so easily I would have done it to help Yanka centuries ago.”

  “There are no accidents, Aramis. Perhaps there is a purpose to this as well. I pray to the old and new gods that she is not another Yanka. I couldn’t bear to see you suffe
r like that again. Does Anya know of those times?”

  “No, and I would spare her from them,” said Aramis defensively.

  “She has more than a right to know, Aramis. Bryanna tells me that she is afraid of us. We are only cautious because of who her matriarch is.”

  “I know and I will tell her everything, just not yet. She has suffered so much and both the Darkness and Illumination fight over her.”

  “That is her fate. She cannot change that. You need to tell her. Better she stay here under our protection. They would never find her here.”

  “Perhaps one day she will need sanctuary so badly that she will come to the Álfr to seek it. She should have a chance to enjoy New Orleans before her enemies catch up with her. I was trying to give her that before Søren showed up to frighten her.”

  “It is regrettable that he did that but it was necessary for her to come.”

  “Søren is fortunate that she was frightened and not angry. If she had lashed out, he would not have walked away unscathed.”

  “She is that powerful then?”

  “She damaged Vasilli within an inch of his life and wasn’t a hundred percent sure how she managed it. Her magic seems to have a strong affinity with words. With proper training, she would be outstanding.”

  “We are the only ones that could give her that training in a safe environment.”

  “That will be her decision, but I don’t think now is the time for that.”

  “You need to think about what you said, Aramis. She isn’t your property even with the marks.” Aramis didn’t reply. He had no argument. A part of him wanted to lock her up forever.

  “I understand you care for her,” Ruthann continued. “You need to learn more than anyone that she is not Yanka and that her choices are hers alone. You couldn’t save Yanka and if Anya chooses to follow the same path you won’t be able to save her either.”

  ***

  Anya woke as the sun’s rays were creeping through the arched stone windows. At times like this, she thought of all the tasks she would be doing if she still had the farm to run. The goat needed to be milked, eggs collected, the horse fed and so the list went on. It hadn’t been a glamorous existence by any means but there was comfort in routine and no one had been trying to kill her. Her new tasks were now lessons with Aleksandra or lessons with Aramis. She was getting used to the runes, but the drum was still a mystery. For reasons he didn’t quite explain, Aramis had told her to leave them behind.

  Anya dressed as she normally would in a black top and jeans that Cerise had purchased for her. She wasn’t going to do any extra pomp to try to impress the Álfr because no matter what she did she could never compete with their own looks. She put on a little makeup and ran a brush through her hair. Ditching the ankle breaking heels from the previous day she settled for a pair of red ballet flats. She smiled big to herself. Twelve months ago, she would have described them as shoes. Cerise’s ongoing education seemed to be taking effect.

  Anya sat down on a plush sofa chair to wait. She wasn’t nearly as stupid as the Álfr assumed she was. She had heard the warning in Bryanna’s little speech the previous night. There was no way that she was going to step outside of her designated quarters. The rooms were beautiful and comfortable so Anya was content for the moment. She watched the sunrise through the trees outside and it illuminated the world with its golden rays.

  A flicker of movement caught her eye. Someone flopped elegantly out of a tree and stood in the little courtyard. Cautiously, Anya got to her feet and walked over to the door that led to it. It was a tall Álfr, dressed similar to what Søren was wearing that night in New Orleans. He had on high black books and dark trousers. A midnight blue tunic vest wrapped over a silvery coloured shirt.

  As if sensing her presence, he turned and Anya fought the urge to scream. It was Aramis. He smiled and opened the door.

  “You look like you have seen a ghost,” he said.

  “But…you…what?” She waved her hand up and down to emphasise the point she was trying to make. It was Aramis but was somehow much more.

  “Yes, well, now that I’m back among them, I have taken the glamour off,” he explained. Anya hesitantly reached out and touched his long hair before turning over his hand. Tattoos stood out boldly on his skin. His dark blue eyes were brighter.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she stumbled. “Not that you weren’t before but this is…”

  “Disturbing? Intimidating?”

  “You are now Aramis as he should be.”

  “And can’t be in the outside world.”

  “You have filtered the extent of your magic too. It’s pulsating off you.”

  “I came to see how you were doing.”

  “And you couldn’t use the front door?”

  “I didn’t want the others to know. I don’t think they would care very much but it was easier this way.” Aramis sat down.

  “They haven’t even come and seen me this morning so I’m unsure what I am meant to be doing.” Anya started to pace. “I hope they don’t keep me here for days and days waiting on them because we need to get back to helping plan-” Aramis was suddenly beside her and his hand firmly clamped over her mouth. He put his lips to her ear.

  “Do not speak of it, do not think of it. They will know and will not like it,” he whispered, “They do not know that she lives and they cannot know what we are going to do.” Anya nodded and Aramis slowly let her go, his fingers brushing her lips.

  “They will not keep you here for days,” Aramis assured, his voice at the normal level again. “I’m quite sure they will let us leave tomorrow if they are satisfied with their interview with you this morning and the council tonight.”

  “I wish they would hurry up. I’m so nervous. I’m trying to keep calm like Yvan told me but it’s going to be difficult.”

  “When did you talk to Yvan?”

  “I called him last night,” she admitted. “I missed him.”

  “I’m surprised that you didn’t call Trajan.”

  “How very low and petty of you,” Anya said. “This particular conversation I won’t waste my breath on. It is my heart and my choice.”

  “You were awake in the limo.”

  “Of course I was. It’s not like I was going to sleep with Søren anywhere near me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Aramis said as he walked back towards the door. “I think you’re worth more than a lover who could kill you with the slightest touch.”

  “Or Silvian’s lover. Or anyone else’s. Why not put me in a convent?”

  “That is an intriguing idea. One that I will consider,” Aramis went out the way he came in, disappearing off into the trees. Barely a minute after, there was a knock at the door. Anya opened it and an Álfr bowed to her.

  “Master Ruthann has asked that you join him in the gardens,” his voice soft and gentle. “I shall take you to him.”

  Anya followed the Álfr in silence. She had never felt more summoned in her life. Bryanna has assured her that she wasn’t a prisoner, but having an escort made her question that. How would you know where you were going if you didn’t have an escort? Anya hated that her voice of reason had started to sound like Yvan.

  They walked through long carpeted hallways and Anya had to fight the urge to stop and look at every carved pillar, mural or sculpture.

  They crossed through a heavy wooden door and Anya found herself outside on a cobblestone path. Tall trees and bright flowers ran wild and Anya breathed deeply of the sweetness of their blooms and the earthy tang of rich, dark soil. Water bubbled nearby but she couldn’t see through the trees to where it was coming from.

  Her heart grew lighter with each step she took and the fear of being strangers melted away. She was getting a strong urge to laugh and run through the gardens and into the forest beyond.

  “The first Álfr that decided to live in this world created this garden and the forest to remind them of the home they left behind,” the Álfr said, “Do you like it?”

  “V
ery much,” Anya replied. “It makes me feel…I can’t describe it. It calls out.”

  “I understand. It is a peaceful place and I often come here to gather my thoughts.”

  “What is Ruthann like?” The Álfr stopped and pointed through the trees.

  “He is waiting for you through there. Go and discover for yourself.” He gave Anya another elegant bow before walking back the way they came.

  Anya slipped off her shoes and picked them up before stepping out onto the thick cool grass. She felt magic tingle up through her soles as she walked. Only moments before, she spotted a wooden platform with a low table on it that was laden with food. Ruthann was sitting very straight on mound of pillows.

  “Good morning, Anyanka,” he said warmly and gestured for her to join him. “I trust you slept well.”

  “Yes, thank you,” she answered and sat opposite to him. He poured red liquid into a glass and silver goblet and handed it to her. She sniffed it experimentally. It smelt sweet like crushed raspberries.

  “Don’t worry, Anya, it’s not poison,” he smiled.

  “My magic burns out poisons and drugs. I wanted to try to tell if I’m going to like it.” She took a sip and then a gulp. It left a slightly fizzy sensation on her tongue and was sweet and tangy. She could identify raspberries and cherries. Everything else in it was a mystery.

  “It is called rauđr drykkr,” Ruthann explained. Anya repeated it slowly so that she would pronounce it properly.

  “It’s amazing,” she said and drank again.

  “I’m glad you like it. Tell me, Anya, how long has it been since you knew you had talent for magic?”

  “Almost a year. It wasn’t until Yvan told me what I was and took me into Skazki that I found out.”

  “Really?” Ruthann looked genuinely surprised. “Surely, your family told you that you were to be a Keeper of the Gates?”

  “Not a whisper. My grandfather didn’t want to train me because I was too much like Yanka. He thought I would go crazy like she did.” Ruthann studied her carefully as he offered her some grapes. She took them and popped one in her mouth.