Rise of the Firebird

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Rise of the Firebird Page 13

by Amy K Kuivalainen


  ***

  An hour before they were due to depart, Mychal was walking the library and the grounds in search of Ásgeirr. He’d never been to his apartments before, they’d always either met randomly or agreed on a training area. Mychal saw the plainly wrapped package as soon as he walked into the overgrown stone amphitheatre where they had practiced two days beforehand.

  “Ásgeirr?” he called before picking up the package. It was wrapped in black leather and a golden cord. Sitting down on a broken column, Mychal untied it and stared in amazement. One of Ásgeirr’s amazing spears was in it with a note tied to it saying:

  My brother, I regret that I am not there to present this spear to you myself but we all have our duties. Know that I’m your ally and that if you shall ever have need of my spear it is yours.

  Mychal turned the engraved silver rod over in his hands. He felt humbled as he admired it, as he admired it every day that he trained with it.

  “Mychal! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Søren appeared through the vine-choked archway.

  “Sorry, I was looking for Ásgeirr and lost track of the time,” Mychal answered vaguely as he stood up again.

  “Ásgeirr? Who is Ásgeirr?”

  “He’s been teaching me how to use a spear.” Mychal held out the weapon to Søren who took it, puzzled.

  “I don’t think you will do much damage with this.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mychal took it back and flicked it out to its full, sleek length. Søren stepped back in amazement. “Why are you so surprised?” Mychal teased, “It is Álfr made after all.”

  “May I?” Søren asked and Mychal handed it back to him. He turned it over in his long white fingers studying the engravings intently. “Mychal, I have never seen anything like this before. I have studied weapons history, even scripts from Álfheim describing the old ones’ craftsmanship. This is not of Álfr make. Where did you get it?”

  “It was a gift from Ásgeirr.”

  “I don’t know of any Ásgeirr.”

  “Well, he exists, Søren. I’m not a crazy person!” Mychal defended. Søren’s bright green eyes bored into him.

  “I’ll have to ask Ruthann if he knows of him,” he relented finally, “but I know of no Divine Spear. If you have been getting lessons from him it is no wonder you have been beating me so thoroughly.” Mychal smiled but he was troubled about what Søren had said. “Come on, we wouldn’t want you to miss your trip.” Mychal nodded and moved the spear so it would go back to its smaller size and tucked it securely into the back of his jeans.

  ***

  Yvan stood out of the way of the crowd as everyone said their goodbyes. He still had trouble believing that this whole adventure had started with only Anya and himself. When he thought about those early days, he felt like they were a lifetime ago. Anya was smiling as she accepted warm handshakes and well wishes from various Álfr. Yvan saw the strain in her eyes but he could say nothing that could relieve it. Chayton and Honaw came from the woods and remained silent witnesses. Anya whispered her farewells to them gently. Yvan watched suspiciously as Søren bowed to Anya and she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek before moving away to join Aramis.

  “I’m going to find the most disgusting burger that fast food has to offer when I get home,” Fox said from beside him. She was carrying a laptop bag over one shoulder and she looked edgy. “I’ve never travelled through gates before.”

  “Not awake, but the Álfr brought you here through a gate, so stop stressing about it.” Harley nudged her with her shoulder. “I’m hoping that it’s like a wormhole.”

  “It’s painless, darlings, and over before you notice it,” Cerise added as she came and stood next to Yvan. “She is going to be fine, Prince.” They both looked at Anya speaking with Aleksandra and Ruthann.

  “I know she will be.”

  “Then why do you look so worried?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? She is safe here, but out there she will be hunted once more.”

  “She’s only safe here for now. Yanka will find her. It is only a matter of time. Anya wants revenge too badly to stay idle. She’s not fragile, Yvan. There’s a fury in her that she’s keeping a very firm lid on.”

  “Anger can make you reckless,” Yvan muttered. “She can’t afford to be reckless right now.” Yvan looked at the redhead beside him and saw how pale and drawn she was. She looked sick even though she had hidden the worst of it with makeup. “Cerise? What is wrong?”

  “Oh, don’t fix those big blues on me, Yvan. I’m fine. I am…out of blood.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “I had my last vial a week ago,” she admitted. Yvan took her cold hand in his.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Ha! Really? To who, Yvan? I can’t exactly find the nearest Álfr and say, ‘I need to do a do a morgue run. Otherwise, I’m going to need one of your dead to suck on’.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, darling. I get mean and edgy when I haven’t eaten.”

  “I wish you had told someone. I know that I’m not Trajan, but you should be able to tell someone when these things bother you.”

  “My God, you can’t help it, can you? Stop being such a helper, Yvan. I’m a big tough girl, so I can handle it. We are going back to a city where corpses are easy to come by. Don’t be so dramatic.” He kissed her hand and the annoyed look on her face melted.

  Anya stood waiting for Aleksandra to be focussed fully on the difficult task ahead. Ruthann would help her open the gate but it was her power and concentration that would keep it open. Anya looked to find Yvan as he kissed Cerise’s hand tenderly. She felt a deep pang inside of her ribs, like the one she had felt when she saw him talking and laughing with the Álfr woman. Anya realised with some alarm that the pain she was feeling was insecurity. Could you be any more messed up? A snide voice reprimanded her in the back of her mind.

  “Are you feeling well?” Aramis moved from behind her, his cool hand slipping into hers. She looked up at him and he frowned, “You’re keeping something from me, Anyanka.” His blue eyes were back to being human, his glamour firmly in place. He looked like her Aramis once more, not the too beautiful creature that had been present for the last painful weeks.

  “Can I keep nothing from you anymore?” she asked indignantly. Aramis simply smiled.

  “I need no power or magical link to tell me what my eyes can.”

  “I will tell you later, hjarta bróđr.” He didn’t argue with her, simply nodded his head.

  “Are all of you ready?” Ruthann called over their chatter. “Good, now please line up and go through two by two. It takes a lot of magic and concentration so you need to be quick.”

  “No worries, come on sweetness, let’s get cozy,” Hamish said as he reached for Isabelle.

  “Careful, four legs, I’m armed,” she warned and he stopped mid grope to offer her his hand in a show of gentlemanly manners. Izrayl was prowling around Katya, preferring to say goodbye to the Twins in his animal form. Anya felt guilty for leaving them but they had assured her that it was the best place to leave them to restore their shattered power. They were content, promising to keep guarding her dreams from Yanka’s intrusions.

  “Shall we depart, my lady?” Aramis asked as she gripped his hand. Anya’s skin began to itch as Aleksandra’s magic flared. She’d begun to sense the feel and taste of magic when it was being used. Aramis had explained it as her becoming more highly attuned, a product of their lessons and the growing and developing of her own power. Aramis didn’t say it but Anya thought it was because of the Groenn Skaer. Her brand tingled and she turned, scanning the trees. There were no drums, no call.

  Warm humid air washed through the gate with the scent of heat and rotting vegetation. “Oh, baby, I’m going home!” Harley whooped before rushing through, all but dragging Fox behind her. Anya watched them disappear in pairs as her brand burned hotter. Anya turned again and she saw him step out of the trees. He was in human form apart f
rom the antlers and she wanted him. She could taste him in her mouth and felt as if her bones would snap unless she was wrapped around him, surrounded by the heat and musk of his body, the emptiness in her aching to be filled completely by him. The bags dropped from her hands.

  “Anya?” Aramis’s voice sounded faded and distant. The Groenn Skaer held out his hand to her and every voice in her mind went quiet and still. She started to run when someone heavy crashed into her, lifting her as she struggled desperately to get loose. She was hurled through the gate, landing on her back.

  “Let me go!”

  “No”, the firebird’s voice came from Yvan’s mouth, eyes burning red hot. His forearm pressed down tightly against her collarbone, pinning her firmly to the dust and leaves on the rough track they had come out on. Only when Aleksandra closed the gate did Yvan let Anya up. The burning in her side eased and she sat up, gripping her knees with her hands.

  “I couldn’t help…couldn’t stop.”

  “I know,” Yvan helped her up. “You’re safe, just breathe.” However, Anya didn’t feel safe, she felt scared.

  “Okay, everyone, let’s find the highway and call for a pick up,” Harley interrupted briskly, swinging her backpack over one shoulder and heading down the swap road. “We need to find the highway.”

  They made it back to the city late in the afternoon. Anya sat in the back seat of a taxi that smelt of old cigar smoke. Aramis sat beside her, Yvan making a point of sitting in the front next to the driver and not saying a word the entire trip.

  “Do you feel it?” Aramis asked as the stared out at the darkening streets. “Do you feel the change?” Anya closed her eyes and tried to focus on what Aramis meant. It didn’t come to her until she tried to touch her magic.

  “My power is different.”

  “How is it different?”

  “It is…less somehow. It doesn’t feel like it’s trying to climb out of my skin like it used to. Is it going away?” The thought unexpectedly terrified her. After finally making peace with what was inside of her, she couldn’t image the thought of being without it.

  “No, it’s not going away,” Aramis assured, the soft wood of his hand wrapped over hers. “You’ve better control over it now. The natural currents of power that run through the earth will often times meet or link together in a particular place. The Álfr have settlements on most of them here in the real world. Those that don’t will have a keeper or a watcher like Ilya to stand guard. Your time with the Álfr, using your magic and developing it within that power zone, tuned you to higher frequency. You’re working with the normal currents now, which is why it feels less.”

  “Learning control techniques there makes them more in control here?”

  “Exactly.”

  “No more spontaneous combustion for me.”

  “Unfortunately, I know that you will just find another way to cause trouble.”

  Blue Jay was working on a bike in the centre of the workshop floor. He looked up when he saw the group approach and dropped his spanner in surprise. They all laughed as Harley launched herself at him, her arms around his neck and her cowboy boots locking around his waist. She pashed him recklessly in front of the shocked onlookers. They rallied and started clapping and cheering.

  “Miss us?” Fox said sweetly when Harley found her feet again. Blue Jay was red with embarrassment, grinning like an idiot.

  “Of course I did,” he said and hugged her. “Good to see you have put on a bit more weight.”

  “Fuck you, I have not,” she said. “I’ve been eating healthier than ever. Not for long though, I am ordering some cheeseburgers and beers.”

  “I will be barbecuing out back tonight regardless,” Blue Jay replied, “and now that you are back, I’m sure Mama Lya will know.” With perfect timing, the shop phone started to ring and Harley rushed to pick it up.

  Later that night, when the music grew louder and everyone was busy, Anya slipped quietly along the side of the workshop and out to the front car park. The stars were out and Anya tried to steady her breathing, pushing the anxiety down. She was aching for a drink but had passed the bottle over. She couldn’t drink Yanka and Vasilli away.

  A movement under one of the street’s many magnolia trees made her snap to attention. A flash of light illuminated the face of a woman as she lit a slender black cigarette. She was wearing dark purple combat boots that matched her black singlet and jeans. Her pale blue eyes were not friendly as they fixed on Anya, grey smoke curling about in the air as she exhaled. Anya calmly put her hands in her pockets and gave her watcher a nod of the head as an acknowledgement before she turned and walked back into the shadows of the building. The woman didn’t move, just stood watching the building and smoking. Anya crashed into Mychal standing in the darkness.

  “God, you scared me!” she said as he towered over her.

  “Something is making me uneasy,” he answered, black eyes catching the light strangely.

  “Try the woman across the street, she’s freaking me out.” He moved past her but Anya didn’t hear a sound, not even the crackle of gravel beneath his feet.

  Mychal was back within moments. “There is no one there but a cat, Anya, but there is a strange scent in the air.”

  “She was smoking.”

  “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I want to be alone. You’re out here for the same reason.”

  “I’m out here because I noticed you missing and also because something is wrong and they are not telling us what it is.”

  “Blue Jay and Mama Lya?”

  “Yes, they are letting Harley have welcome home celebrations but something has happened. I can feel it.”

  “Maybe it is because I am here,” Anya said. “Mama Lya has always looked at me strangely. The stories of Yanka have made it that way everywhere.”

  “I wouldn’t let it concern you. People will always be afraid of what they don’t understand.” He surprised her by placing a strong hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go back before they notice we are both gone.”

  ***

  An elegant Russian Blue cat padded silently along the rooftop. There was a gentle rustle and popping sound as the cat stood onto its hind legs and transformed into a beautiful woman with dark hair. She watched the woman and tall man below talking before disappearing around the back of the shop. Veruschka pulled a phone from her pocket and dialled a number.

  “Tsarina, she has returned…yes, I will be there.”

  ***

  Mama Lya sat tall on the dining room chair in Anya’s hotel suite. Cerise had organised accommodation in the French Quarter the previous night and hadn’t been seen since. Anya had woken to a sharp knocking on her door only minutes beforehand. Mama Lya was dressed as if she was off to church in an elegant white pantsuit and a polished ebony walking cane. Anya had noticed it the night before, though she hadn’t seen Mama Lya use it on the previous visit.

  “I can order some room service if you would like anything,” Anya offered as she tied her robe tighter.

  “That won’t be necessary,” replied Mama Lya as her dark eyes levelled on her.

  “Then what do you want?”

  “When are you leaving the city, girl?”

  “I don’t know, soon. Why?” Mama Lya’s thin lips pursed together. “You shouldn’t keep secrets. Why don’t you want to tell me why you want to get rid of me so badly?” Anya pushed.

  “Your time away has made you sharper.”

  “Grief, madness, and magic will do that to you.”

  “At least you are not drinking.”

  “The day is young.”

  “You are too scared to drink.”

  “That too. Why am I scared, Mama Lya?”

  “Because both sides want you dead and they aren’t the only ones.”

  “Who else?”

  “The scavengers that gather when war begins to brew. Others with power that want yours. They will all gather.”

  “Shame it’s not allies.”

&nbs
p; “They will come too,” Mama Lya gripped her cane and leant closer. “There are some very powerful beings out there that don’t hold with either side. Some who know what it’s like to be in a war and who do not want another.”

  “Neutrals are neutral for a reason. They won’t pick the sides that there is now, so what makes you think they would pick ours?”

  “Not ours. Yours.”

  “They won’t follow the descendant of the Queen of Darkness.”

  “Maybe they won’t have to. Maybe they will help you by not helping them.”

  “What happened when we were away?” Anya pressed. It was the most Mama Lya had ever talked to her and she was struggling to keep eye contact.

  “We are all being watched. The shop is under constant surveillance. They were looking for you. The Conseil Neutres have noticed too. They are uneasy about having so many dark ones in the city. People have been going missing. People coming up dead in terrible ways. Tortured, drained. They were all neutrals.”

  “Do you think the Darkness is trying to recruit?” Anya got to her feet and started to pace.

  “The signs are about right. They usually stay far from this city, but you’ve brought them here. Yanka is searching for you and if she came to the city she would cause hell.”

  “Yanka won’t come here. She won’t leave Russia when some lackey can try to pick me up as easily.”

  “If the killings don’t stop, the Council may hand you over themselves. Fear is a powerful motivator. New Orleans is one of the only safe cities in the world for neutrals. They won’t want these killings to be publicised because it would risk the city’s reputation.”

  “If they are so worried, why haven’t they tried to jump me already?”

  “The only thing that is standing between you and them right now is me. I’ve spoken for you, girl. Assured them, but that assurance is fleeting.” Mama Lya opened her purse and took a cigarette from a silver case. She lit it and dragged the fragrant smoke in. “The Conseil Neutres, for all their power and prestige, are afraid of you. That’s the only reason why you are still drawing breath and remain free. The clerk downstairs? He is an informant of theirs. So is the majority of the guests in the hotel as well. You’ll be watched where you go in New Orleans.”

 

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