“Aw, Anya, we were joking,” said Harley with a slight pout. It was her secret weapon. She could get anyone on her side with it.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Yvan asked her quietly.
“Yes, please. There are too many pheromones floating around in here,” Anya said and they walked out together, arms still around each other comfortably.
“So how are you?” Yvan asked as they wandered through the hallways.
“I don’t know what I should be feeling, but at the moment, it’s mostly anger. With Eikki’s death, I drank and it numbed me. I don’t think I will have the luxury to do the same this time.”
“Circumstances are different. Your grief will be different too. You’re feeling betrayal on top of your grief as well, so it might be more intense. It will ease off a little each day, you’ll see.”
“Yvan, the Wise Prince, you always know the right thing to say. It’s not natural.”
“I’m an old man, remember? I’ve had many years of mistakes to cultivate wisdom.”
“Being the only one that shuts up and listens probably doesn’t hurt either. You absorb everything. Maybe that is the secret to wisdom.”
“You make me out to be a much better man than what I am.”
“You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” He didn’t reply as they walked out into the milky sunshine. The winter garden was wild and beautiful around them. Something about the gardens made Anya feel like she was in a cradle of life despite their snowy covering. The thrum of magic in the earth seeped in through her boots and sent her senses tingling.
“This path leads into the forest,” he said. “I want to show you something.” There was no rush so they strolled through the gardens talking of inconsequential things between themselves. Anya always seemed to relax and open up around him better than anyone else. She trusted him not to laugh at her trivial and real fears, or throw knives at her head.
Søren had organised a training room for them, given a top of the range laptop to Fox, gave her access to the prophecies, and had taken Anya to Aramis when he needed her most. To say that they had gotten off on the wrong foot was an understatement, but Anya was becoming increasingly aware of someone completely different inside of him. She didn’t know if that was a good thing. Maybe she did have trust issues. Yanka had certainly destroyed what remained of her faith in people.
“Where are you?” Yvan touched her cheek softly.
“Nowhere… stuck in my own head as usual.”
“A dangerous place to be.”
“Tell me about it,” Anya said. “Where are we?” The trees were taller and thicker, and they looked less taken care of than the gardens. In Anya’s last trip to the forest, she had been running and it had been too dark to notice details.
“Sit down on that rock and wait.” Anya did as she was told and Yvan sat beside her. After a few moments of bird song, Anya opened her mouth but Yvan was quicker.
“Just wait,” he whispered. She went quiet again and within moments, a falcon landed on a low branch near her. It watched Anya carefully. A low growl echoed through the trees and rolled up her backbone.
“Yvan…” she whispered nervously. A large brown bear ambled through the trees toward them and Anya’s body went into fight or flight mode.
“Relax, Anya,” Yvan took her hand, “it’s not going to hurt us.” Anya was glued to the rock in pure fear as the bear drew closer to her. Its amber brown eyes watched her thoughtfully. It stopped a few centimetres from her. Its hot breath was on her face and she glimpsed at white, sharp teeth. A long red tongue shot out and licked her up her neck and cheek. Yvan burst out laughing at her horrified expression.
“Yvan, what the hell?” Anya demanded as she attempted to wipe the slobber from her skin.
“Should I tell her, Chayton?” Yvan asked the falcon. It gave an amused screech in reply. Anya looked at the bird and the bear as realisation dawned on her.
“You asshole, Honaw!” she squealed and smacked him on the muzzle. He rolled onto its back with a series of husky sounds emanating from him.
“And you!” she turned on Yvan. “You are as bad he is!” He laughed harder as she attacked him. Honaw’s big bear head being pushed between them broke them up. Anya hugged him around his neck as best as she could, his fur tickling her face and his warm musty smell filling her nose. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” she whispered and the pain that filled, eased, even if it was only for a moment.
Chapter Four - Helping Hand
Anya woke as Søren’s hand clamped over her mouth to stop her from screaming.
“Shhh,” he whispered next to her ear.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when he lifted his hand. Her eyes focussed on him and saw he was glowing very softly in the scant light.
“Ruthann sent me to get you because he needs your help. You can stop staring at me like I’m here to murder you.”
“What does he need my help for?” Anya sat up and rubbed her eyes.
“To heal Aramis. You’re the only human that’s ever been invited to such a thing. He wants you to participate.”
“Okay, I’m coming. Do I need anything?”
“Maybe put on some clothes,” Søren’s eyes drifted down to the thin sheet that covered her.
“What a good idea. Can you please wait outside?”
“If it would make you feel better.”
“It would,” Anya said a little too quickly. He grinned and she gripped the sheet tighter to her.
“Be quick,” he said as he left the room, shutting the door behind him. Anya quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and met Søren out in the hall.
“May I ask why Ruthann chooses this time of night to perform miracles?” Anya asked as she yawned.
“Not miracles just frođleikr. Ruthann likes to work his power when the old day and the new day meet. He is traditional.”
“Ruthann’s so old, he is tradition.”
“He only has a few hundred years on Aramis and me.” Anya looked up at his perfectly unlined face.
“That’s creepy.”
“No, that’s immortality.”
“So you’ll stay looking beautiful forever, lucky you.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“Only on the outside,” she teased. “All of the Álfr are beautiful. I have yet to see an ugly one.”
“That’s because we have the ugly ones killed at birth,” Søren replied.
Anya stopped suddenly, “Are you kidding me? That’s so barbaric…” Søren started to laugh loudly. That sound made her blood fizz and ears crackle.
“You’re such an asshole,” Anya said as she punched him in the arm. He barely noticed which made her want to hit him harder.
“I couldn’t resist, you fall for anything.” They tuned down their mirth when they reached Aramis’s chambers. Ruthann sat next to Aramis’s bed drinking wine, a small silver box in his hand. Aramis was sitting up but he was still looking a little grey. It was a good thing that Ruthann was there.
“Thank you for coming, Anya. I trust Søren wasn’t too impolite when he came to fetch you.” Anya looked up at Søren. His face, which moments before had been so animated, was back to being an unreadable mask.
“It could’ve been a worse wake up call. How are you, Aramis?” She walked around the other side of the big bed and climbed in beside him. He put an arm around her shoulders and her magic leapt to life, wrapping itself around his arm and chest in crimson ribbons.
“Oh my,” Ruthann’s eyes went wide.
“I told you it was unnatural,” Søren said as he frowned at them. Anya didn’t care what they thought. It made her feel better to be around Aramis and she needed all the good feelings she could get.
“Better?” Anya asked Aramis, ignoring Ruthann and Søren.
“I will be soon. It helps when you are close.” He gave her a smile that was weak but still warm.
“Is it because you’re reminded that there are people more screwed up th
an you?”
“That’s possible,” he teased and Anya saw a flash of the old Aramis. Then she realised that Ruthann and Søren were still staring at them.
“What now?” she asked Ruthann impatiently.
“It’s nothing to be concerned about, but your auras change when you are together,” he said seriously, his long hands were steepled in front of him. He was staring above their heads.
“Is it an elvianth side effect?” Aramis asked.
“Perhaps. One has not happened in many, many years and it always affected people differently. You two have a strange tie to each other’s auras because of it. It’s as if you can balance them out. In this case, Aramis is in pain so Anya takes some of it away and carries it. I’ve never seen something like this before.”
“You should’ve seen it when they kissed,” Søren commented. Anya didn’t know if he unconsciously picked the wrong time to bring things up or if he did it on purpose to make her feel as awkward as possible. She suspected the latter.
“I can imagine,” Ruthann said, “but now is not the time to talk about it. Aramis, hold out your hand.” Aramis slowly brought his bandaged arm out from underneath the blankets. Ruthann placed the small silver box on his lap and took Aramis’s arm with both hands. Anya could see how self-conscious it made Aramis, but Ruthann ignored it.
“The healers couldn’t save the hand,” said Søren. “They had to take it off.”
“Don’t worry, Aramis. I am here to give you another one.” Ruthann carefully unwrapped the bandages. The wound was healing rapidly and thanks to Anya’s intervention, fresh skin had already started to grow over it.
“How’s that even…” Anya began to say but Søren shook his head at her and she shut her mouth. Clearly, Ruthann being able to do the impossible and grow back a hand was in fact possible. He was studying the arm carefully with his long fingers. He started singing very low to himself.
Anya felt power pour out of him like a heat wave. Whatever he was doing, he was channelling a lot of magic. She snuggled closer to Aramis to try to relax him. He was nervous and jittery but trying very hard not to show it. Ruthann picked up the small box and opened it. Inside was a small silver coloured seed that was shaped like a lemon pip. She had no clue what it was, but Aramis and Søren looked surprised by it.
“Are you sure?” Aramis asked hesitantly.
“I am,” said Ruthann. “We need you too badly.” Anya wanted to ask what was going on and what the hell a seed could do, but Søren’s face made her stop. Ruthann took the seed and carefully placed it on the wound and covered it with his hand. He looked at Anya and said, “Keep him calm.”
Almost instantly, Aramis started to writhe in pain. Anya grabbed him tightly around his chest and started to pour whatever magic she could into him. He calmed enough to stop wriggling, but inside, he was in turmoil. Under Ruthann’s hand was glowing like a trapped star but he held it, sweat pouring down his face. Anya watched in horror as silvery tentacles curled out from between Ruthann’s fingers and moved down Aramis’s forearm. He cried out in pain as they buried deeply into his skin. Her magic started to panic in reaction and it moved through her and into him to try to relieve his suffering.
In what seemed like hours, the agony stopped. Ruthann was breathing heavily and was shaking with exhaustion. Aramis was shimmering with all the extra magic that was running through his system. He stroked Anya’s hair and she lifted her head.
Anya looked at his arm and gasped. A perfect hand now sat where his stub had been. It was fully moveable like a real one, but it was made from pale silver wood. The tentacles that had buried into his skin twisted around his arm like the roots of a tree. She watched him flex and move his new fingers experimentally. She touched it gently and smiled.
“It’s warm,” she said slowly as she ran her fingers over it.
“I can feel that,” Aramis said surprised.
“Of course you can,” said Ruthann. “What is the point of giving you a hand that you can’t use?” He started to stand and Søren stepped forward to steady him.
“What is this wood? It is amazing,” asked Anya as she studied it.
“It’s called tirith perial. It’s a very rare type of wood from a land with far more magic than our own. There are no trees made of it in this world,” answered Søren. Ruthann could barely keep on standing, so Søren gave her a quick nod before helping him out of the rooms.
***
Harley found Fox in a quiet corner of the library. She didn’t have access to beer and pizza here with the Álfr, but she managed to snag a bottle of their potent summer wine and one of the people in the kitchen was kind enough to give her a platter of warm bread, fruit, and cheeses.
“Hey, nerd, how’s the research?” she teased. Fox gave her a non-committal grunt, her fingers typing a thousand miles a minute. Harley pulled up a chair and waited patiently. After a few moments, Fox let out a frustrated groan and turned her attention onto Harley.
“Here, drink this,” Harley said and handed her a glass of the pale yellow liquid. Fox took a sip and looked at the cupboard packed full of dreams and prophecies.
“They aren’t going anywhere, Foxy, so eat something.”
“Something’s wrong with this collection,” she said as she took a bunch of grapes off the platter.
“What do you mean?”
“For starters, no one has ever bothered to catalogue it. You would think that they would deem it important enough to do that at least.”
“I’m starting to think that the Álfr don’t concern themselves too much with the real world. Besides, they ended up really hating Yanka. They aren’t going to see her descendant as important.”
“Aramis read them, but didn’t bother to put them in order.”
“Not everyone is as anal as you.”
“Anal I may be, but Ilya gave them to the Álfr for a reason. I’m going to catalogue them by date first, then I am going to scan them in to the laptop. Then I will read them all the way through and in order and…” Harley was laughing so hard that Fox stopped.
“Jesus, Fox, I haven’t seen you get this worked up over anything besides Johnny Depp.”
“It’s annoying me that’s why! Who knows what they’ve missed because they didn’t bother doing it right the first time. There is even one here mentioning Anya’s birth!”
“You think that there will be a way to kill Yanka in there?”
“Anything is possible. Ilya was smart. He knew the Álfr would be around forever and that they’d keep them safe. Who knows, maybe they’ve held the secret to stopping Yanka all this time and had no idea. I’m surprised that they haven’t given these to the Illumination to go through.”
“Who knows what motives they have or if they’ve even thought to show them to the Illumination. They’ve been negligent but perhaps Ilya wanted it that way. He would’ve seen that they’d be forgotten until they were needed.”
“Yeah, well once I’ve loaded them in, I’m out of here.” Fox drained her glass and refilled it. “I want to go home.”
“Me too, but I’m here for Isabelle and she is here for Anya. Once Anya gets the answers she needs, she won’t be hanging around here for long either. I really miss Mama and Blue Jay and the shop. It’s been a month and Blue Jay and I have unfinished complicated shit to deal with.”
“Getting sticky with a hot guy doesn’t count as complicated shit. It’s sport.”
“You’re only saying that because it’s not happening to you.”
“No, I’m not. You’re making things way more stressful than they should be. It’s Blue Jay, for God’s sake. He’s the least stressful person to be around.”
“I don’t want to hurt him, Fox. I destroy relationships,” Harley said. She had torn a piece of bread into little chunks between her long fingers and was looking at them blankly.
“You don’t destroy them. You date shit brains like Frankie who don’t get you, or they expect you to be something different. Blue Jay knows you. He’s seen all the cr
azy you can give, so trust me, he knows what he’s in for. He’s been waiting for a long time for you to catch up.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m always right. Now, if you are going to hang around, you can grab that stuff on the next shelf and put it in date order for me.”
***
With considerable encouragement and bullying, Katya had managed to get Aleksandra to train with them. Aleksandra had never trained in her life so Isabelle and Katya took the time to get her moving. Anya had rejoined them as well and Aleksandra was grateful to have someone there as unenthusiastic as her. Mychal generally positioned himself where he could keep an eye on her.
“He’s kind of intense,” Anya said, as they worked on the yoga stretches Katya had taught them. “It’s like he needs to see where you are all the time.”
“He thinks that if he doesn’t, a demon is going to find me like one did in New Orleans,” Aleksandra replied as she watched him do steady chin-ups. He made it look ridiculously easy. It made her mentally thank whoever had invented black singlets and loose work out pants. It was all well and good to have him watching over her, but it also meant she was forced to look at him and it was distracting.
“It’s kind of sweet though,” Anya observed, “but he’s still scary as hell.”
“You should see him in action. That’s scary.”
“I would like to see him in action,” said Izrayl as he joined them on the mat. A glint was in his gold eyes that was all mischief.
“Don’t try to pick a fight with him,” groaned Anya, “he’ll kick your ass.”
“Then I will have to listen to Katya bitch about that time my boyfriend beat her boyfriend up,” added Aleksandra. That and the fact he would do some serious damage to Izrayl without really trying.
“I reckon we could take him,” Hamish said as he towelled sweat off his face and neck.
“Two against one isn’t very sporting,” said Anya harshly.
“Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on him.”
Rise of the Firebird Page 4