Ashes (The Firebird Trilogy Book 1)

by Stephanie Harbon

  “Two,” he replied.

  The flame in my hand extinguished immediately. “Oh crap, I’m supposed to be meeting Lynk in twenty minutes!” I was panicking, “I don’t even know where I’m going.” I stood up immediately, gathering my stuff without a clue what to do or which way to go. Where had the time gone?

  Jayson stood up instantly, standing in front of me with a serious expression. “Calm down, it’s okay, I’ll take you. Where are you meeting?”

  “The Old Hall,” I said.

  “Right,” he nodded, “that’s not that far. I’ll show you.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  He pulled a face, “Trust me, after last night it’s the least I can do.”

  He walked over to the other side of the room, opened a door and took me down a flight of outdoor steps. These stairs led down to a tiny street just behind the dodgy alleyway that I was brought here from. We took a left at the end of the street, then a right at the next road and I instantly recognised the outskirts of Temardra; the lively city centre.

  I huffed an angry noise as we quickly passed through the streets. That arsehole Kieran had taken me the other way just to scare me, the stupid git. Maybe that was how he got introduced into those drugs, I thought suddenly. If he was an assassin training in that room above that drug den; that woman did seem to recognise him.

  Within ten minutes we arrived. I didn’t expect it to look like a college. The main building was long and cut from grey stone, nothing spectacular but surrounded by various outbuildings and courts. Jayson swept me inside instantly, past a main reception and down a long corridor into a massive windowed hall.

  It was completely empty. “Is this it?” I wondered.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be off then. You’re still early. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I thanked him appreciatively and he smiled before he shut the door.

  I waited a long time for Lynk to arrive. He was late. When the door finally swung open I flinched. It slammed violently into the wall as Lynk strode though aggressively.

  Forget formal greetings, the first thing Lynk said –well, yelled in an explosive kind of way-was, “You’re living with the Ashaiks!”

  Suddenly, memories of his destructive rages flashed before my eyes. Though they were never actually aimed at me –usually at a slave or my mother-I remembered the terrible fury that would echo through the entire building. He needed to calm down. I knew that for certain. He can be devastatingly powerful when his control slips.

  I spoke more calmly than I felt; in all honesty I was petrified. “I had nowhere else to go.”

  His familiar face was so consumed with rage, he represented fire perfectly: its savageness and brutality.

  “You won’t be staying there any longer. Do you have any idea what it would cost me if the High Council found out? If my daughter –a Swartette-was living with Ashaiks! It’s disgraceful. It’s disgusting.”

  “I don’t see how.” I said quietly, realising it was the worst thing I could have said.

  The topaz in his eyes was devoured by the black of his pupil, making him look even scarier. “You have lied to me.”

  Then, before I could respond he struck me hard across my face. I flinched, eyes wide, my cheek stinging underneath my palm. I gazed numbly at him; shocked.

  Eventually I decided to play the role of guilty teenager who’d come home drunk from a friday night house party. “I’m sorry. I have disappointed you.”

  “Yes you have,” he agreed hostilely, though his face flickered in surprise.

  “I do not remember much of here. Please forgive me,” I said, staring pleadingly into my father’s cold angry eyes, like I gave a damn. Which I didn’t. I didn’t even know him.

  He only seemed slightly suspicious. “You shall be immediately relocated to Fire Palace. I refuse to let you make a fool of me by living with them. You will go without a fuss, do you hear me?!” he was shouting again, recalling his infuriation from fiery depths, the beauty of his voice was distorted by the malicious volume.

  No, I couldn’t possibly live with him, no way.

  “That’s not fair!” I complained, this could not be happening. Shut up, shut up, shut up, the sensible part of my mind screamed.

  His dark pupils expanded again. “You belong to me, Ruby; everything of yours belongs to me until you are eighteen or Bound.”

  “I can’t live with you,” I uttered, deflated. He was really going to make me do this wasn’t he? I stepped away from him, terrified suddenly.

  “You can and you will,” he snarled.

  There was a short silence as I struggled to digest what had just happened. So what, I was now being forced to live with Lynk? If I didn’t know better, I knew I should have fought and refused, but I did know better.

  I knew that there were benefits to this. Not necessarily benefits for me, but benefits for this country if I just did what I was told. I needed to find out if anything was going on with Lynk; if my attacker had spoken the truth about him forming an army. And if so, what was he planning, when, and how could I stop it? I knew how vindictive he could be.

  Lynk was visibly attempting to control himself. The rapid rising and falling of his shoulders eventually slowed until stopping entirely.

  “After this, I expect you to go to that Ashaik’s” –he practically spat the word- “house and pack your things. I will send for guards to escort you through the city.” His tone was still sharp and demanding but at least he wasn’t shouting. “You have permission to fly as much as you want, as long as you are accompanied by a Guard.” He said it as if he thought he was being reasonable; which he wasn’t, at all.

  “Yes father,” I said respectfully, nodding my head remorsefully like I gave a shit what he thought about me.

  “You will learn, Daughter,” he spoke slowly, his voice as dangerous as poison, “even if I have to teach you all over again.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Now that everything’s all nicely straightened out, I shall remind you of the art of Chyun’ju,” Lynk said, his voice suddenly calm and polite. Jeeze it was just one thing after another with this guy.

  “Chyun’ju?” I asked. My attacker had mentioned that word.

  He came closer so he was little over a metre away. He was speaking slowly and cautiously now, as if careful not to get too angry again. “The voice gift is called Chyun’ju. It means ‘Siren’ in the old language. Don’t you remember anything at all from my teachings?”

  Yes I did. I remembered sore throats, long hours and animal cruelty. Instead of saying that, and probably getting myself slapped again, I just answered, “Not much.”

  He released a composing breath, obviously fighting not to be frustrated. Through gritted teeth he spoke, “I guess we’ll just have to start all over again then, won’t we?” He walked gracefully across the room with the cunning poise of a stalking cheetah. He loomed over me, eyes sharp and instructive; examining my face to see if I was listening attentively. His presence was really quite unnerving.

  He started. “Positioning is vital, otherwise you could damage yourself. Your feet should be shoulder-width apart, your spine straight,” –I shifted my posture accordingly, as balanced as a yoga instructor- “Chin up,” he ordered, snapping it up himself with pale slender fingers, then he squared my shoulders with a rough jerk and I swayed precariously. “Breathe deeply…that’s right. Now, copy me so I can see the extent of the damage.”

  He began with a simple scale but his voice was absolutely spectacular, transforming into startling loveliness. So impossibly beautiful, captivating and intriguing; like the call of a lover, so hard to refuse…

  I shook my head, trying to focus my suddenly clouded mind. I was determined not to be affected by the hypnotic power of his voice. Not that I could be really, if there was one thing I remembered about Lynk, it was that his voice didn’t work on me like it did on others. The force of it had just caught me unprepared. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

  Copying his sca
le, I heard how weak I sounded.

  This didn’t escape Lynk’s notice.

  He shook his head irritably, “Release your voice; you’re restraining it.”

  “Am I?” I asked innocently.

  He nodded. “There is a reason we are called Sirens,” he said, his dangerously exquisite voice radiating its unsuppressed capacity. He continued, “We reach into souls with our sweet songs and voices, capturing their very essence and therefore commanding control of that person; just like those human stories of the sailors and the ships. That was us. We can do whatever we want with that person once we hold their souls. Just imagine the chaos we can cause, the devastation…” His eyes had burned brightly with some eccentric excitement, but now they dimmed as they saw my face. “How do you expect to do that if you won’t release your voice?”

  I didn’t want to control people. I didn’t want to cause destruction and devastation. God, this guy’s even more nuts than I’d given him credit for.

  “Again,” Lynk ordered severely.

  When I’d finished repeating the notes he frowned a little, showing some thin creases in his marble forehead. No streaks of grey were in his peroxide blonde hair. Like Kieran’s mother it was hard to judge how old Lynk was. He had sort of an ageless appearance, like time didn’t affect him. It abruptly occurred to me that I didn’t know how long Phoenix lived for. Was it the same as humans, or were the myths correct? Is a Phoenix reborn every time he or she dies? Surely not, this place would be infested with them, us; whatever.

  I realised I’d drifted off and concentrated on what Lynk was saying. “Slightly better,” it didn’t sound like a compliment, “but you’re still not loosening everything. You probably don’t realize but trust me, you aren’t.”

  I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust him even a little bit. But I did understand what he meant, I did hold back on what would make me unbelievably powerful, like a child clutching the string of a balloon. If bad things happened when I tried to control my voice, then God knows what would happen if I unleash it. It could either be amazing or catastrophic.

  Lynk made me do more scales as a warm up. Each time shouting corrections at me when I’d didn’t hit the notes exactly perfectly and each time letting the notes have a broader range. So high that humans couldn’t hear, and so low the floor trembled at the sound.

  My voice rang with sadness. I could hear it, no matter how brightly I tried to sing. I sounded sorrowful, like the violin. It was the kind of pure, virtuous melancholy that left people weeping; mournfully lovely. My music was opposite to Lynk’s; his was violent and harsh in its divine beauty.

  After we’d finished the scales, Lynk had me practice certain songs as another warm up. I remembered one my mother had written; she used to sing it all the time before she died. Then I couldn’t understand the lyrics because they were in the old language, now I sang it with actual comprehension. The funny thing was it didn’t sound any different, like I’d already known its meaning from listening to the music itself. I was trying to make Lynk relax, that was the idea of the song, but I doubted I was successful.

  Next came actually speaking, and used some wild animals for this, getting me to practice controlling them. It was easier the smaller the animal, but they soon increased in size until the last one was a massive grey wolf brought in from the mountains.

  Guards dragged it in snared with chains. The beast was huge, larger than my German Shepherd by far, and he had weighed an impressive eight stone. This creature was angry, it snarled viciously under its muzzle. Two large men chained it to a heavy metal ring attached to the middle of the floor. They snatched the muzzle off of it and scurried back instantly. The creature growled, maliciously baring its sharp glistening teeth.

  Its eyes were frightened though, underneath the exterior. I pitied the poor thing. Its dirty grey fur had been messed up, scruffily neglected and covered in flecks of dried blood. It looked starved too; far too thin for a wolf that size.

  Lynk watched me, his eyes hard and calculating. I knew what he wanted me to do. He wanted me to approach the vicious beast. My stomach flipped nervously as I stepped forwards. The wolf glanced over at me, snarling another warning for me to stay back. I continued forwards, stepping within its reach and speaking softly, dipping my voice into a low calming tone.

  “Hey,” I said, lulling softness oozing from my voice with a hypnotic edge. The creature noticed me immediately, growling lower and more ferociously. “It’s okay boy,” I held my hands up, palms facing forwards. My voice was beautiful to even my own ears. “Calm down.”

  The wolf’s ears twitched and it growled again with renewed aggression. It bared its teeth but eventually stepped backwards.

  “It’s okay,” I continued persuasively, going down onto my knees before it. The creature stilled then sat down on its hind legs, looking at me with a dazed, fascinated gleam in its grey eyes. “There you go,” I smiled, reaching out to stroke the tamed wolf, “nobody’s going to hurt you.”

  Lynk stepped forwards, “Well done Ruby. I see you haven’t forgotten everything. You can finish for the day.” He turned to the two men. “Kill the wolf,” he instructed firmly, “It’s no use to me now.”

  I stood up immediately. “No! Don’t touch him.”

  Lynk eyed me dismissively, then glanced at the two men who hesitated, grasping sharpened blades, “I said kill it.”

  I stood in front of the wolf protectively. There was no reason to kill him. I felt a connection with this poor creature. He was taken from his home, snared in chains only to be attacked and injured. There was no way I’d let anyone ruthlessly kill him. I would keep him. I lowered my voice, passion and power streaming out over my tongue.

  “Stop,” I ordered the men as they came forwards. The strength of my command was impossible to defy. I put everything I had into it. Fiery energy scolded my back. They halted. “Drop your weapons,” I insisted and they listened, transfixed. Lynk stood watching with hawk eyes. My voice burned in my throat. “Now, unchain the wolf.”

  They walked over and did as they were told. The rush I got from seeing them do my bidding was amazing; I had complete and utter control of them. I glanced at Lynk, but he was silent. It never occurred to me that this was a test.

  Once they released him, I called the wolf over and he followed me instantly, tottering over like a puppy. I walked towards the nearest door. I glared at Lynk with hatred.

  “I will take the animal.” My voice was still calm and authoritative, but now I was gasping for oxygen like it was an addictive drug. Truthfully I felt like I’d swallowed a knife; my throat blistered with an unexpected vengeance.

  Lynk smiled vindictively, “Be my guest,” he gestured. He looked down at me, those calculating topaz eyes cool and unfathomable. “Go and pack your things.” He dismissed me, “I shall see you again later.” That sounds like a threat, I thought grudgingly, but quickly scrambled back to escape the room. I needed fresh air, uncontaminated by the noise-fog that still lingered.

  I couldn’t believe I just did that.

  And by that, I meant everything I’d just done.

  I’d released my voice on those men without thinking and it had actually worked. The wolf trailed along beside me unconditionally. I’d also survived a session with my father; somehow securing myself a place at the Fire Palace.

  Shaking my head, I stumbled blindly through corridors, trying to suppress all that. I eventually wandered outside. I had no idea where I was going. I headed out of the front of the building, to my surprise spotting Kieran. He was by the entrance, leaning on a brick wall; waiting.

  I headed closer, irritation bubbling in my chest already.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  “Alright, Princess, nice to see you too,” he said, raising his hands. “I was waiting for you, like the nice person I am, to take you back.” He glanced down at the gigantic wolf that followed me, who was now eyeing up Kieran with deep suspicion. “What’s with the stray?”

  “A nice pe
rson!” I scoffed, ignoring his second question. “You took me through that dodgy area this morning just to terrify me. You utter arsehole!”

  He laughed, stood up straight and started walking, ignoring what I’d said and acting like it was perfectly normal that a huge wild wolf was following me around.

  “So, what happened? Chara said that you’ve been to see Lynk.” He glanced down at my new friend, frowning. “That’s not him is it? You didn’t, like, kiss him or something and turn him into a wolf did you?”

  “I’m moving to the Swartette Palace,” I told him, my vision stayed stubbornly planted on the snow-covered streets surrounding me.

  If I let my imagination wander I could almost pretend I was at home; that the mountains that watched me protectively from a distance were British, that the wolf was a German Shepherd –but it wasn’t raining so the notion died instantly. Plus this was a massive city, complete with skyscrapers and bustling people. I’d never been to a city.

  “What?” Kieran bellowed unexpectedly.

  I glanced at him, realising he was astonished and infuriated. It confused me, I hadn’t anticipated his anger. To be fair, I probably should have; Kieran’s always angry, at least with me. We headed at a reasonable pace down the paved streets, quickly taking the fastest route out of the city. We were already at the outskirts; luckily the Old Hall wasn’t that close to the centre.

  “I thought you wanted me to do this,” I said unevenly.

  “I wanted you to talk with Lynk, talk to him, not live with him.” He began ranting melodramatically. “You don’t even know him. And you don’t know anything about living in a place like that. You don’t know the courtesy required; the stupid little conventional things that must be done, the things that absolutely cannot be condoned. There are a million rules in a house like that. I know; I’ve been there. You’ll have guards at your door; a protector constantly at your side, slaves everywhere. And you won’t be able to…“