“Do not think less of Søren,” said Aramis with his head bowed. “He has every right to be furious with me.”
“Why?” Anya asked when the rest of the people at the table remained silent.
“The murder that we spoke of Yanka committing was Søren’s wife. She was in the wrong place and when she tried to convince Yanka not to leave, Yanka killed her and…and their unborn child.” Anya felt the crushing weight of Trajan’s death at Yanka and Vasilli’s hands all over again. That Yanka had inflicted this same pain on Søren made anger burn through her.
“I’m sorry, I have to go after him,” she mumbled. No one called out or tried to stop her. It was no wonder that he was so angry with Aramis. As she walked, she felt whatever compassion or mercy she still had for Yanka and Vasilli burn away. How could they all share the same blood and be so different?
Anya came to a small clearing that lit up with tiny lights as soon as she stepped into it. A tree stood in the middle of it and was heavy with small white flowers. They floated softly in the air as a light breeze lifted them from their branches. It looked very similar to a cherry blossom tree, and the flowers delicate, sweet scent filled the air where they fell. Anya smiled in delight as the little blossoms drifted through the air and settled on her. She spun and twirled, sending them sprinkling around her.
“She loved them too,” Søren’s voice broke the moment and Anya stumbled in surprise.
“Yanka?”
“No, Väliä, my wife.” He stood metres from her, his fists clenched into angry balls.
“I could never understand why you hated me so much when we first met. Now I do. I’m so sorry, Søren.”
“I did hate you. I wanted to taunt and terrify you as much as I could. I would’ve killed you if they had let me because I’ve killed her in my dreams over and over again,” he admitted as he slowly walked toward her.
“And now?” Anya asked in a whisper. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest from the fear that he’d still want to carry out all that he spoke.
“You are not her, so it would be wrong to take my revenge on you. Besides, you have every cause to hate her as much as I do.” He reached over and began to pick the white blossoms from her hair.
“I hope you don’t think I’m going to betray you or the Álfr like she did. I will leave here this minute if you do.”
“Calm down, I know you are nothing like her. I knew after your first visit among us. Ruthann looked into your mind and saw no deception in you. If I have made you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable, I apologise.”
“Having someone walking around that looks like the person you hate can’t be easy.”
“I’m starting not to notice it as much. You have a completely different soul and way about you. You are capable of love. It shines out of you sometimes. The way you are with my brother, the way you want to take away his and everyone else’s pain away, even if you don’t realise it. That’s why you came after me tonight. You wanted to try to alleviate what I’m feeling. If nothing else, that makes you a completely different being to Yanka. You wear all your emotions on the surface. You are guileless.” Anya stepped back from him and sat on the ground among the fallen flowers.
“Your words mean a lot to me,” she said, twisting the blossoms between her fingers. “I worry that I’ll end up like her, and that I will give up the fight the way she did. I worry that I won’t be able to stop her and that she’ll kill everyone I love until I join with her.” Søren lowered himself next to her.
“That will not happen, Elenya. You’ll never be like her. The people who you have around you will make sure of it. They will stand by your side and defend you, though it is you that will end up saving us all. We didn’t have you last time. This time, we can do it.” He took her face with his hands so that she would look into his eyes and said, “We’ll stop her once and for all. I swear, we’ll have our revenge for the pain she has caused.”
Anya felt magic and emotion mingle and move toward her face where he touched her. Her power flowed into him and for once, she didn’t try to stop it. Søren’s own magic rose to meet hers and tangled around it. His eyes went wide as she placed her hands over his and black threads of magic came out of them and moved around his arms. Anya didn’t know how she was doing it or how she could stop it. Unlike the time she’d accidentally linked with him in New Orleans, she wasn’t terrified.
“How are you doing this?” he asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know. Don’t be afraid.” She sent her power into his body, much as she had done with Aramis. Memories swarmed her and she glimpsed a woman with rich black, curling hair laughing as Søren twirled her amongst the same flowers they now sat in. There was the warm light of love in her eyes as he brought her close and kissed her. Anya pulled out of his head quickly and opened her eyes. The threads of magic had disappeared.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she said and quickly let him go. “I shouldn’t be in this place ruining your memories that you lock so tightly in your heart.”
“She wouldn’t have minded. She loved this place and she wouldn’t deny its beauty to anyone. Selfishness wasn’t in her nature.”
Despite his words, Anya still felt like she was intruding. She still could feel the all-encompassing, fierce intense love of both Søren and Väliä. Anya had loved Trajan but she suddenly felt like it was a pale thing compared to what she had just experienced. Søren’s eyes bored into her and she realised her cheeks were wet with tears.
“I don’t know what you saw or how you got into my head to begin with,” Søren said as he dropped his hands from her face, “but I trust you to keep it to yourself.” He got to his feet and backed away from her before melting into the trees.
***
Fox sat in the library sipping her coffee as she read off the glowing screen. It was well past midnight but she was still awake and on a roll. The last two days had been quiet. Nobody was speaking about what had been revealed to them at Ruthann’s dinner. Anya especially had gone into her shell. Fox wanted to stay out of everyone’s way.
All of Ilya’s prophecies had been scanned and dated in the computer, but Fox still liked her quiet corner of the library. The Álfr that she encountered in there knew the true meaning of silence and never bothered her.
Ilya wrote in a perfect copper plate hand. On the nights that had obviously been rushed, his writing was still legible. It was written half in English and half in Russian, so Fox was putting together a list of the more complicated paragraphs for Anya to translate for her. Some of the pages were journal entries. Others were full blown prophecies predicting cars, computers and nuclear weapons. Small sketches sometimes appeared in the margins and on scraps of paper. Fox caught herself thinking about what kind of man he had been. To be able to glimpse so much and not go crazy would’ve been hard work.
“You can’t sleep either then?” Fox looked up from the glowing screen as Anya’s faint outline appeared in the doorway.
“I’ve started reading all the documents and it’s more gripping than any novel,” Fox said as Anya sat in the empty chair beside her. “How are you holding up?”
“I can’t sleep without dreaming.” Anya twisted a large dented locket over and over in her hand.
“Trajan?”
“Sometimes, mostly Yanka killing everyone, but that’s my crazy imagination hard at work.”
“What’s that?” Fox asked, trying to think of a way to change the topic.
“I thought you might like this. I rescued it from the rubble of my farmhouse. It is Ilya.” She handed the locket to Fox who opened it carefully. Inside was a small painting of a man with long fair hair, a trim goatee, and grey green eyes.
“I can see where you get your killer cheekbones from,” Fox commented. “He’s pretty damn cute for a prophet. I thought he would have scraggly hair and be crazy looking.”
“He was pretty sane considering he was Yanka’s child,” Anya yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I wonder if he knew his mother was a psychopath.”
> “I’m sure he did. I might find something written about her in all of this.”
“I doubt she would have stayed in the real world long. Long enough to make some poor farmer, who conveniently has gates to Skazki on his farm, fall in love with her. It wouldn’t surprise me if falling pregnant with Ilya really messed up her plans. He would’ve been dumped with his father and she would have disappeared back through the gates for good.”
“She’s ruthless enough to do something like that. He would have been an adorable kid to leave behind. Here’s hoping we can find the answers that we are looking for in all of this mess. He was a very smart guy to hand it over to the Álfr and he did it for a reason. Until we can find out, you can help me translate some of this.” Fox handed her a bunch of printouts and a pen.
“Are you missing home at all?” Anya asked as she began writing notes.
“I miss junk food and the shop. I haven’t been out of New Orleans for a while so this break will do me good. I get bitchy when I have nothing to do. It’s okay for the fitness freaks who can burn the boredom off in the gym.”
“You have plenty to keep you busy now, thanks to Søren,” Anya looked hesitant for a moment before turning her attention back to the printout.
“It was pretty cool of him to let you know all Ilya’s writings were here.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Can I ask what happened between you two the other night?”
“I accidentally fell into his head and saw something I shouldn’t have. He hasn’t spoken to me since and I haven’t tried to find him. I feel bad enough as it is that Yanka killed his wife. He absolutely loathes her and I’m a painful reminder. Besides,” she added with a mirthless laugh, “in the fucked up state of mind I am in at the moment, I would say the wrong thing and piss him off even more.”
“He’ll get over it. I know what it’s like to have someone jump into my head uninvited and I felt a bit violated. Give him a few days and he will come around.”
“Or he’ll try to kill me for being so presumptuous.”
“I doubt it. Despite his better judgement, he likes you. You might have scared him the other night. The first time Mama Lya jumped into my head, I felt like there was no safe place in the universe.”
“I didn’t mean to do it and what I saw… it was a beautiful memory, Fox.”
“It was a memory he must’ve had locked up and you reminded him of it. He has to deal with it again. It probably gave you a bit of a shock to see underneath that very cut, very cold exterior of his too.”
“It was. Yanka has a lot to answer for,” Anya said darkly. “I don’t know how I am going to do it but I will kill her.”
“We’ll find the answer,” Fox assured her.
“I know we will. Why would Ilya leave all of this otherwise?” Anya’s pen stopped moving. “Listen to this, ‘The visions of my mother are becoming stronger. The woman that my father described doesn’t exist. She is pitiless and calculating. I don’t know why she had me when clearly children aren’t held in any kind of esteem. If I hadn’t seen how to open and close the gates to Skazki through a vision, it is impossible to know what may have happened.’ She didn’t even show him that! She didn’t worry that the first creatures that escaped Skazki would have killed her own son.”
“She probably didn’t have the backbone to do it herself. If she left the gates weakening, eventually something would’ve done it for her.”
“She mustn’t have expected Ilya to have as much talent as he did. Yvan said Ilya always had powerful visions. By the time Yvan met him, Yanka was already presumed dead. Ilya might’ve known otherwise, but purposely kept his mouth shut so that no one would go looking for her,” said Anya and ran her hand through her fair hair. “And I was the moron who set her free. Everyone she kills now, even Trajan’s death, it’s all on me. I might not have pulled the trigger, Fox, but I loaded the gun.”
“Anya, this is not your fault so don’t shoulder the guilt. You should go and sleep. We can work on this in the morning. Off you go. I am kicking you out.” Fox took the sheets off her.
“You’re probably right.”
“You know there’s vodka in the kitchen and there would be nobody around this time of night,” Fox said as she turned her attention back to the computer screen. “I’m just saying.”
“Good night, Fox,” Anya said, “and thanks.”
Inspired by Fox’s not so subtle hinting, Anya walked quickly and quietly toward the kitchen. She’d been there a lot in the last few days because she hadn’t felt like talking to people, let alone dining with them. Yvan had tried to pull her out of her dark mood but without any success. If Søren’s memory had done nothing else, it had sparked a deep ache for Trajan. She had handled the last few months of their life so badly. Now her decisions, made mostly out of hurt, were weighing heavily on her.
The kitchen was empty and she found bottles of vodka on one of the shelves in a huge pantry. “Hello, my old friend,” she said affectionately as she helped herself to a bottle. She felt a little guilty for taking it, but there wasn’t anyone around to ask for it. There was no way she was going to ask permission from Søren or Aramis either.
She opened the bottle as soon as she was back in her rooms. She let out a long sigh of contentment as the alcohol warmed her stomach. She was going to get some sleep tonight even if she had to pass out in order to get it.
Anya fell asleep on the floor an hour later and she dreamed.
Trajan lay next to her on a day bed. They were in a classic Roman villa made of cool stone. He smiled sleepily at her.
“I was wondering when you were going to come and see me,” he said, his voice still as deep and lovely as Anya remembered.
“I haven’t been sleeping properly,” she replied as she ran her fingers through his chestnut hair. “I’m missing you so much.”
“I miss you too.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t stop them…” Trajan silenced her with his lips.
“This isn’t real,” Anya pulled away. “I’m dreaming and when I wake, I miss you all the more.” He ran his fingers along her cheeks and down her neck.
“There is a way to bring me back, Anya,” he whispered.
“No, you died. There’s no coming back from that.”
“You can walk the Land of the Dead, Anyanka. You can bring me back and we can be together again. Yanka knows how to do it.”
“Yanka and Vasilli killed you. She would never tell me the secret. It would be too dangerous to try to make a peace between us.”
“You could trade the secret for something she wants,” Trajan said as he kissed the soft skin of her wrist.
“The only thing she wants is for me to be dead.”
“No, she wants her rune stones.” Even though it was a dream, Anya felt a chill touch her.
“How do you know that she wants them?” she questioned. Something that looked like annoyance flashed in Trajan’s eyes.
“I heard Vasilli speaking of them when I was being tortured. They are very valuable artefacts. They would come to you to trade for them, my love, and then we could be together. I’m so worried about you. Are you being protected by the others? Where are you hiding from Yanka? She is so powerful, I didn’t think there would be anywhere in the world that she wouldn’t find you.”
“I’m hiding with the Álfr.” She kissed his cheek and his temple. He didn’t smell the way he used to and that made her sad. She loved the way he smelled.
“I know you are with the Álfr, darling, but where?”
Before Anya could answer, Honaw and Chayton stepped through the walls of the villa. Honaw pounced on Trajan, knocking him out of Anya’s arms. She screamed as a sword appeared in Chayton’s hand and he plunged it deep into Trajan’s chest.
“Take that, you fucking bitch,” Honaw snarled as Trajan’s body disintegrated into dust.
***
On an island in Saint Petersburg, Yanka woke from her trance and screamed in rage. She ripped back her clothes in frustr
ation. Above her heart, a dark red bruise was blossoming. She cursed herself for pushing Anya too hard for information in the dream and now she was going to have to be extra cautious. She hadn’t counted on Anya’s dreams being protected.
She needed her rune stones and her knife. If she couldn’t get them through trickery or bargaining, she would get them with force. She would send Veruschka. If anyone in all of the worlds could find her troublesome descendant it was she. Wrapping herself in a fur lined robe, Yanka walked through the dark halls of her mansion. Vasilli was awake and sitting by a burning fireplace. He was scrying the flames, so Yanka sat patiently to wait until he returned to his body.
“Mother,” he said finally, “did you find her?”
“No, the Álfr is protecting the little cow. Even my powers are not sufficient enough to find them. Their shields are too great. I will send Veruschka to the America’s to find them.”
“That creature is a liability. She causes more trouble than what she’s worth. Send someone who is more discreet.”
“I don’t care for discreetness, boy. I want her causing trouble. I want them nervous and on edge. Once she finds Anya, I shall go after her myself.”
***
“Anya, can you hear me?” a voice called to her, ripping her out of the dream and back into her body. Yvan was crouched over her, the golden eyes of the firebird shining through his.
“Yvan?” she was shaking violently. Yvan pulled her close to him and let the warmth seep through her skin.
“It’s okay, it’s over,” he said. “Honaw jumped into my dream and woke me up. He said that you were in trouble.”
“They killed Trajan,” she said as tears stung her eyes. She could still feel the vodka churning in her stomach.
“It wasn’t Trajan, it was Yanka.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“She broke into your dreams and used Trajan’s form to try to trick information out of you.”
Rise of the Firebird Page 6