Rise of the Firebird

by Amy K Kuivalainen

  “So we destroy it and end it once and for all.”

  “I don’t think there is a way to destroy it.”

  “You helped make it so you must know a way. You are the only person who would.” Their Guinness pies with mash and greens arrived and Eldon broke the pastry up with his spoon to let the steam out.

  “If there is a way I don’t know it.”

  “Probably has to do with that spell you cast on yourself,” Anya said through a mouthful of potato.

  Eldon looked at her blankly for a few moments before draining his pint dry. “What spell? How would you know this?” He asked angrily.

  “Calm down, Eldon. I thought you knew.”

  “How would I know, Anyanka, if I cast the damn thing on myself?”

  “There is no need to get hysterical. You did it to yourself, so I assumed you must have been okay with it. You looked very determined.”

  “How in the seven hells do you know how I looked?” He made a frustrated sound before getting up and going to the bar again. He spelled the barmaid into serving them first and he came back with another two pints.

  “Speak child! I demand it. I don’t want to force it out of you.”

  “It’s your fault, you great idiot!” Anya exclaimed as she took one of his pints and drank half of it to prove he didn’t intimidate her. “You gave me the damn hazelnuts and sent me on my trip. I saw Ilya and Eikki, but then I saw you too. It must have been long ago. Your clothes and hair were different. I saw you making the game and then put a spell on yourself and I assume it was to make you forget. That’s all I saw, Blaise, I swear.”

  “So you didn’t see how we could destroy it?” he asked, pushing the subject away from himself.

  “No, I didn’t see how we could destroy it by every day means. I was going to hit it with Ukko’s sword. A sword of heaven should be able to kill anything, right?”

  “That’s a valid theory,” Eldon spooned some pie into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “But something you might not have considered is that you are tied to the game. If you hit it with the sword, it might destroy you along with it.”

  “You created the game, it could destroy you too. It might be the thing that actually kills you.”

  “I want to die, but you? You’re young and beautiful and most importantly you have found true love.”

  “It is because I’m in love that I consider it. If I destroy the game, I take Baba Yaga, Yanka, and Vasilli with me. That’s a lot of evil gone in one hit. They are the ones that want to kill all the people that I care about. I could save them all.”

  “You would have to convince Mychal to strike it. The sword is his, he won’t pass it over.”

  “He might if I told him it would save Aleki. Mychal understands self-sacrifice better than any of us do. I don’t think he’ll stop me.”

  “He won’t have to. Yvan will. You know he will. And if he fails, Aramis or Søren will succeed.”

  “How will they know unless you tell them? Even Mychal doesn’t have to know that it could kill me. I don’t crave death, Eldon. We don’t know what will happen but it’s an outcome that I need to be prepared for.”

  “You’ve been thinking about this a lot I see.”

  “I want them stopped for good. Isabelle and Harley will get New Orleans stable with Silvian’s help, but the other three are mine.”

  “You are but one person, Anyanka, no matter how gifted.”

  “I am three people. Aramis and Yvan are a part of me. When we link, we move, breathe, and think as one. We will stop them. This will end.”

  “We’ll have to practice linking your power together so you can do it without touching, without thinking. We will have to be extra careful without Kullervo to shield the power you will be generating.”

  “I watched him make the barrier so I’m sure I can come up with something. Promise me you won’t tell them that destroying the game could kill me.”

  “You aren’t dealing with idiots, Anya. They will figure it out. The first question Yvan will ask in his scary Russian voice will be ‘Will it hurt Anya?’ Are you really prepared to lie to him about something so big?”

  “If you can come up with a better idea, you’re welcome to share it.”

  “The only good idea I can think of right now is getting another pint.”

  “That is a good idea. Don’t get so drunk that you can’t find the way back to Helsinki.”

  “Please,” he rolled his eyes, “this land beats inside of me. I couldn’t miss the door if I tried. I’m in this ground, whatever magic it still has in it, is mine.”

  Four hours later, they stumbled out of The Lancelot and after much giggling, they managed to slip through Glastonbury and back into a cold street in Helsinki. It was raining softly and Anya struggled to keep upright when Eldon’s magic dropped them from one country into another.

  “So much for ‘the land beats inside of me’,” she mocked as she hurried to stand under the awning of an office building.

  “I got us back here, didn’t I?”

  Anya made to reply, but words failed her as the ground beneath her screamed through her mind. She collapsed to her hands and knees as she saw Yanka and Vasilli, a seething black force with no face behind them as they moved from Skazki into the real world.

  “Anya, can you hear me?” Eldon was holding her upright. “What did you see?”

  “They are at the farm. Yanka and Vasilli. They are building an army there, bringing them through the gates.”

  “The land is warning you.”

  “But we are hundreds of kilometres from the farm!”

  “Doesn’t matter how; it has warned you. Come on, we need to get you back to the hotel.” On unsteady legs, they shuffled the remaining six blocks back to the Hilton.

  “Should we wake them and tell them?” Anya asked. “We need to leave tomorrow. The gates won’t stop screaming until I get there.”

  “Let them enjoy one more night. We’ll tell them in the morning. My advice to you is to go to Yvan, tell him first and find comfort in him. The world can burn tomorrow.”

  “Anya, is that you?” Yvan asked in the warm darkness of the hotel room.

  “Yes, it’s me. I’m freezing and soaked.”

  “Where did he end up taking you? I was starting to think I was going to have to send Izrayl out to track you down.” There was a rustle of blankets as he stretched out.

  “He would’ve had a hard time of it,” Anya said as she stripped off her wet clothes. “We were in England.”

  “Of course you were. Are you alright? You sound upset.”

  “Yanka and Vasilli are at the farm trying to bring down the gates. We need to leave tomorrow, but I wanted one night with you alone.”

  “Come here quickly and get warm. Don’t stand there shaking,” he said and she climbed under the blankets. He swore when she touched him with cold fingers. “You are freezing.” He reached out for her and then went still when he realised she was only in her underwear.

  “How much have you been drinking to climb into my bed almost naked?”

  “Not much, the rain and the cold sobered me up. As soon as I touched Finnish soil, I saw what they were doing at the farm. It has to be the place to end this all,” Anya sighed, “and I’m not naked. Just a little bit.”

  “Yanka has an agenda involving that farm, she always has. Worry about it tomorrow, shalosť. For now, you might as well try to get some sleep, though I don’t know how I will, knowing you are ‘just a little bit’ naked.”

  Pushing aside her nerves, Anya glided her hands up over his chest, stretching herself along him and kissed him. “I don’t want to sleep.” A wave of heat rolled up his body making her skin break out in goose pimples. As his hands moved up her back, Anya mentally checked the magical barrier she’d put on the room. She didn’t want their magic broadcasting out through Helsinki.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?”

  She rolled gently on top of him, luxuriating in the warmth of his skin. “I�
��m certain sleeping is the last thing on my mind.” The firebird’s magic rolled up through her and she stopped kissing Yvan.

  A bit of privacy please, Anya said to the firebird.

  Humans are so weird about sex.

  “Now!” Both she and Yvan said at the same time and then burst out laughing.

  “Oh, God, this is so weird,” she managed as they sat up together. “I thought I was going to be so cool about seducing you.”

  “It’s okay, I like to hear you laugh.” Yvan smiled as he ran his fingers through her hair and down her arms. “I like having permission to touch you.” Heat flared through Anya’s chest as his mouth found the curve of her collarbone.

  She had to be so, so careful with Trajan, his self-control always in the back of her mind even when they kissed. She didn’t have to worry about holding back with Yvan. Even if she lost control and set them both alight, or exploded with magic he could contain it, he’d be safe. Her hands tightened on the muscles of his back.

  “Anya? Your magic just…” Yvan began but her mouth was on his, stealing words and breath. Yvan flipped her onto her back, his long body pinning hers.

  “Look, Anya,” he whispered, “we are glowing.” Where their skin touched, magic was moving between them in a haze of light. “It’s linking on its own.”

  Anya touched his face with a trembling hand, “I love you. I don’t want to hide from you anymore.”

  “Then don’t,” he said with a look that swallowed her whole. “I love every part of you, and the dark parts of your soul that you fear, I’ll fill with scorching fire.”

  He kissed her and her shields shattered under the flames that licked up their skin, burning away the last of her defences until all that remained between them was light.

  ***

  Look through the heavy snow and dark night to a mountain hidden deep within the forests of Russia. On a plateau made of stone, a woman in fur stands in front of a blazing fire. Her pale silvery hair lifts in swirling wisps as the wind and magic of the ritual rise up around her.

  She starts to chant in an old tongue, a black tongue, long forgotten by the world. She starts to move about the fire in a circle, her arms dipping and swaying as the power takes over her. A black slime starts to stick to her feet as she dances, calling up a power that should never be disturbed. She needs more allies in the war to come and she will sacrifice all to get them. Even what remains of her soul.

  Chapter Thirty - The Butterfly

  Vasilli stood against the wall of Yanka’s personal chambers and watched her braid her pale hair. “Have you heard from the men yet?” she asked for the fifth time that hour.

  “They’ve arrived at the farm and are setting up your base camp,” he replied. “I’m not looking forward to going back there.” His scars had already begun to have phantom pains. When Yanka had told him that they would be returning to Anya’s farm a week before, he’d argued violently against it.

  “It has to be there, I told you!” Yanka snapped. “You tried to rush the plan with Ladislav and now you wear the consequences of that on your skin. The farm is the best place for power. It stands on two crossroads with the power of four lands. We’ll need to draw on it if we are to destroy the walls to let Skazki and Russia become one once more. When it is done, I will draw all of the power from that place and make sure I leave that hell hole as magically dead as Ynys Yr Afalon. We need to get the game off that bitch Baba Yaga. One more place and I would’ve been able to take it.”

  “We need to be ready for her. She’ll feel us bringing the army through. Her spies are everywhere, if they don’t know already.”

  “It matters not. She can bring her rabble of ridiculous Illumination with her. I have allies she knows nothing of.”

  “The Russian President you’re fucking won’t deploy the army for you. In any case, humans will be useless in this fight.”

  “I was not referring to that fool,” she said as she walked to her wardrobe and dropped her dressing gown. Fresh pink scars, welts and bruises marred her skin. They looked recent and violent.

  “What have you done, Yanka? What magic is this?” he demanded.

  “I did what I had to do to ensure a strong alliance. Don’t look so surprised, Vasilli, you know how this game is played. If you hadn’t tried to rush things, perhaps I wouldn’t have had to go to such extreme measures.” Vasilli hated when she blamed him for things beyond his control. It made him feel like a little boy again and it riled him.

  “You were the one that got caught by Baba Yaga to begin with and left me to clean up your mess like you always do.”

  Yanka slapped him hard across the face but he bore it without retaliation. “Is this how you feel? You think I wanted to be caught by her. The marks that have you so concerned are nothing to what I had to endure for the years she held me. I cried out for you then and you never came.” Her green eyes narrowed. “It makes me wonder if you wanted to see me free after all.” Vasilli pulled out his knife and placed her hand over the hilt, pushing the blade tightly against his throat.

  “Do it. Kill me if you really think that you cannot trust me.” The knife cut into him and warm blood spilt down his neck. Yanka pulled her hand away.

  “You are the only one I do trust, but you must trust me in return.” Yanka held his face in her hands.

  “I wouldn’t be standing here beside you if I did not,” he said. She leaned forward and licked the blood from his neck. Her power seared the cut and healed it.

  “Let’s not fight anymore, my beautiful son. Let us go and feed on the fears of our enemies.”

  “Promise me that you’ll kill Baba Yaga once and for all this time.”

  “If you bring me Anya’s head, I will bring you Baba Yaga’s,” Yanka held her hand out.

  “Agreed,” Vasilli smiled as he shook it. What a surprise she would get when he killed them all.

  ***

  In Edinburgh, the crate that held the game began to rock and shake. Its guards eye it nervously before one of them picked up their radio. “Sorry to disturb you, Ma’am, but there seems to be something going on down here. You’d best come and see.”

  Cursing, Baba Yaga stormed her way downstairs and pushed the guard out of the way. “Get out, the both of you,” she demanded. She didn’t like to handle the game when it wasn’t being played. It was a volatile thing and when she had tried to touch another player’s piece over a century ago, she had lost an arm. It took months to grow back and she still felt the burn of it when she got too close.

  Baba Yaga opened the lid and looked in at the board. Anya’s white pieces were lined up like neat soldiers, and Vasilli’s fresh set of red ones that had appeared days earlier. She hovered a hand over them, careful not to touch. A vision of Vasilli sitting atop a throne of dead Álfr flashed through her mind and she gagged. She’d wondered what had fuelled his ascent onto the board. Now she knew.

  “What have you created, Yanka?” she muttered. Her old student and nemesis had gone too far in her fear of Anya. Vasilli would have enough power to destroy them all. She closed the lid and relocked the crate.

  Upstairs, she took a bundle of black wool from her basket and started to thread it onto her loom. Clack! Fire Clack! Death. Fear. Clack! Clack! Yanka’s naked broken body. Clack! Russia Clack! Farm.

  “You, stupid cow, thinking you have the power to bring down the gates.” Baba Yaga pulled out her mobile phone and lit a cigarette while it rang. “It has started. I need every Illumination called in. We are going to Russia before the Darkness rips the worlds apart.”

  ***

  At Legba’s Ladies, Isabelle had called together a meeting of every available hunter and ally they had in the city. There were fifty-seven altogether and as far as she knew, it was the largest group that had been assembled in over five hundred years.

  “Thanks for coming, everyone,” Harley said after they had all calmed down. “I’ve asked you here today to pitch you an idea. At the moment, we’ve been working to stop the chaos that has erupted down
South but the violence is increasing. The Council have over reached and now their shitty plan has backfired. They’re the ones that have started this war in the city they swore to protect. They killed my grandmother for speaking out against them.”

  She paused, trying to keep the hitch out of her voice. “I propose we cut the head off the snake. Let’s raid the mansion on Coliseum Street. It’s an open haven for the filth that has infected our streets. Let’s end this. If we get rid of their protection, the others will skulk back to whatever dark shit hole they crawled out of.”

  “There has always been a Conseil Neutres,” a bulky hunter from South Africa said. “Who will take their place?”

  “Does anyone need to? The last lot has fucked up pretty grandly,” argued Sissy, a hunter from New York.

  “You want to establish a council that has the city’s best interest at heart. Not to rule but to govern,” Cerise said. “If there is nothing, the city will remain unprotected to allow all sorts of pretenders seeking to establish a monarchy like the old days. There hasn’t been a successful queen since Queen Marie.”

  “A monarchy can work if the heart of the ruler is true,” Lovelace claimed.

  “You only say that because you still live under a monarchy,” Cerise huffed.

  “What can be set up afterward is a later problem,” Harley interrupted. “To be honest, I don’t give a shit about a future council. I care about the death of the current one. I’m trying not trying to hide my feelings behind any noble intentions. I want revenge. I want all the fuckers dead and gone, but I need you to help. Those that are willing to give it, stay. The rest of you get the fuck out of my shop.”

  “Easy, Harley,” Isabelle whispered cautiously. Harley was tired and through with mincing her words, but hunters were touchy at the best of times. A few left but the majority stayed much to Isabelle’s relief.

  “She’s coming into her own, isn’t she?” Silvian said from beside Isabelle. Harley had Fox passing out printouts of the house and the easiest access points.