This way, said one of the twins in my head. He wasn’t exactly ordering me and he sounded polite and respectful, but still, didn’t any Phoenix here know how to say please?
The huge twins pushed off the ground. I followed them up into the lashing snow.
I think I’d forgotten how wonderful flying is. Even with the weight of an elephant stretched across your wings. We climbed through the air effortlessly; snow swelled around me like a shoal of fish. My mind was sharp enough to identify each individual flake. The view was breathtaking; the blanketed fields, the magnificent city arches, the gemstone tower, the piercing skyscrapers. This scene belongs on a Christmas card, I thought.
I flapped my immense wings, feeling spectacular and elegant. Beating the air rhythmically, I laughed ecstatically at the joy of flying. I didn’t care that that my guards were watching me with peculiar expressions. I loved the feeling of the biting wind running through my waterproof feathers. It came so naturally, finding the right wind currents to glide me faster, like riding an ocean wave. I was so high I didn’t even complain about the significant weight increase that joined forces with gravity to drag me down.
Then I noticed the house.
From above, I saw a sprawling Palace with courtyards and gardens, structured from a strange whitish stone. The rock was chalky-looking, like alabaster. Great bonfire torches lit the Palace walls and ancient swirling symbols adorned the striking supportive columns. This strange, almost Grecian Palace was nestled high on the mountain valley ledge, directly opposite the Earth Palace miles in the distance.
We landed in the biggest of the three courtyards. I recognised it from previous dreams. I shivered involuntarily. This place held bad experiences.
I remembered instantly the giant fountain in the middle of the courtyard. A memory sprung back to me. Pictures flooded into my mind. Lynk was shouting at a slave next to this fountain, oblivious to me perched high up in the tree in the corner of the courtyard, camouflaged by leaves and brambles. I wasn’t alone either, a boy sat with me. I told the boy to hush.
Then a block in my head sprung up and I couldn’t remember anymore.
“Welcome, Lady,” said a female voice. I turned towards the sound and saw a little woman with white-blond hair that curled beautifully to her waist. She was standing on a raised patio that was sheltered from the brutal weather.
On one side of her was expensive outdoor furniture made of artistic metal ringlets, linked together to form fire. On her other side was my mother’s swing, carved from a rare white wood and perfect for the blistering summer months. It was where my mother would regain her sanity after a long day.
The small woman spoke again. It was difficult to estimate her age, she had no lines creasing her face, nor any teenage blemishes. Her skin was pale and luminous but her face was plain.
“My name is Evelyn. I am the High Slave of this Palace,” she explained coming closer. She had a blanket in her delicate arms, “Please, come in, the weather is awful.”
I stepped under the protection of the sheltered roof. The dainty woman then turned towards the Fire Warriors and they gave a brisk nod before flying off.
Why aren’t you just thinking to me? I asked inquisitively, abandoning trying to distinguish her age. She was very beautiful.
She seemed genuinely surprised by my question, “I am not worthy to enter a Lady’s mind, or any Phoenix mind of higher authority.” She answered hesitantly, cautiously, as if she wasn’t sure if I was playing a trick on her.
That’s ridiculous, who told you that? I wondered. I had a pretty good guess.
She shook her head incredulously. “The High Council decides the law for the Slaves. It’s the way things are.”
Oh, now I get it. Then I felt sympathy for the girl; there probably were a lot more things she could and couldn’t do. How did people become Slaves again? I think Kieran had told me that those who didn’t Change automatically became slaves; the old fledglings like Adrian. There must be a surprising amount of people that don’t Change then, surely?
“My Lady…“ The girl began politely but I quickly interrupted her.
Please, call me Ruby.
“Begging your pardon,” she replied quietly, unable to hide the shock in her black eyes, “but I do not believe that would be appropriate.”
I waved her off by moving one of my long wings, accidentally hitting a nearby chair. I frowned at it, then insisted, It’s Ruby…sorry what’s your name again? I asked, feeling discourteous.
“It’s Evelyn, my Lady,” she replied politely.
I shook my big head, Ruby, it’s Ruby. I insisted.
“Ruby,” she amended, still uncertainly. “Your father is in a meeting, he will not be back for hours. Would you like to Change so you can come in?”
I nodded; pleased that at least she wasn’t calling me ‘my Lady’ anymore. I mean, come on, I wasn’t the Queen. I swear and complain too much and I really do not like little dogs, especially corgis. Proper dogs have a minimum height standard; if it’s below the knee it’s a mutated rat, or a confused ferret.
I was losing focus again.
Thinking of fire, its harshness and brutality and its contrasting warmth, I listened for my own flame’s hum. Eventually I heard it, feeling it ignite deep inside me, slowly winding up and down my spine…
A minute or so later I was standing on the cool wooden patio with two feet, two legs and two arms. I was human again. I shook from the Change. I dropped my brace onto the floor, my weak human muscles unable to carry it. Automatically Evelyn came forwards, wrapping a thick blanket around me.
I thanked her then followed her into the massive house.
It really was a Fire Palace.
Everything looked expensively decorated. The crystal chandeliers looked suspiciously like diamond and ruby and they twinkled brightly with unique burning flames. The walls and ceilings were painted with Firebirds and absolutely everything was draped in gold. Gold was everywhere, framing the huge glass windows, the threads in the drapes, covering the seats, everywhere. The floor was made from dark red stone and it was polished to perfection. There was a grand table in the centre of the massive ballroom we entered, the kind you only see on films during an important celebratory banquet.
I whistled lowly, “This room is beautiful.”
Evelyn smiled, appreciating my comment, “We try to preserve the Grand Hall as best we can. We spend many hours trying to keep it as it is now.”
I nodded, agreeing. I bet it did take a very long time to dust in here; especially the tremendous balcony and magnificent stone stairs on the far side of the room. As I remembered my nakedness I thought perhaps I should continue touring after my butt was properly concealed.
“Do I have a room?” I asked Evelyn.
“Yes Lady. Follow me please.”
“It’s Ruby,” I insisted as I followed her through a large set of double doors.
Turning a corner I realised this place wasn’t quite as empty as I’d first anticipated. There were people moving around everywhere. I clutched my blanket self-consciously as servants -I wouldn’t call them slaves-trailed behind business types and posh snooty-looking people; visitors I guessed. They scurried past silently; no one glancing at me.
We wound up a spiral staircase, stopping at a door at the very top. Carefully Evelyn pulled open the door, gesturing for me to enter.
It was my old room.
It was painted a soft orangey red colour, straw-stuffed toys perched on my four-poster bed; vast collections of children’s books were still piled up on shelves and a desk with quills, ink and paint was in my ‘creative’ area. A personally drawn picture of a scarlet Phoenix –presumably my mother-was still pinned to the wall next to my east-facing balcony. It was like the room had been frozen in time. It was quite creepy.
“Does this not please you, Lady Ruby?” Evelyn asked, seeing the tears in my eyes. I quickly forced them back. Why was I crying? Get a grip.
“No, its fine,” I assured her quickly, then r
ealising something I asked, “Oh crap, I left my clothes outside in my brace.”
Evelyn walked across the room to show me a small wooden table made from a reddish brown wood, on top of it was my wing brace. How had it gotten there so quickly?
Then I heard a quiet, polite knock on the door. Expecting that Evelyn would answer; I waited. Evelyn was looking at me strangely until I understood that I was the one who was supposed to respond and stuff.
“Come in,” I called awkwardly; the door opened. In walked two pretty girls, both with long braided hair and pinafore-type clothes.
“These are your Slaves,” Evelyn announced and they both did silly little curtsies. I felt like I should be wearing a wig and a corset, prancing around complaining about cucumber sandwiches and waiting for Mr. Darcy to arrive on a white horse. This was ridiculous.
Evelyn continued, “Lord Lynk has made it very clear that you should not be left alone. There are guards positioned outside your room and around the Palace. Your Slaves will always be near you while you’re here and you’ll have Protectors if you wish to leave.”
It sounded like a prison.
“You shall always be safe here, Lady Ruby.”
I bet, I thought bitterly. “When is Lynk coming back?”
Evelyn answered, “A couple of hours.”
So I had plenty of time to snoop around while he was gone. Then I glanced at my new ‘maids’. I wouldn’t be left alone, I realised suddenly. How could I?
“Unless there is anything else you need, I shall attend to my other duties,” said Evelyn respectfully.
“Of course,” I smiled. “Thank you,” I added before she shut the door.
One of the little maids came forwards, “Would you like to unpack, Lady?”
I nodded gratefully, thinking that packing and unpacking seemed to be the only thing I did recently; that and being attacked and healed again.
She smiled warmly, “I shall unpack while you are dressing.”
“But all my stuff is in my brace and the rest is at Ebony’s,” I protested.
“Lord Lynk had some things already sent to you,” explained the other maid, gesturing for me to walk forwards into a dressing room.
Grudgingly I followed while the other maid unpacked my things. This seemed silly; how could I know where my things were if I didn’t know where she’d unpacked them? Either way, I had no choice. In the dressing room, the first tiny maid scurried off into a wooden wardrobe to retrieve a dress. Me and dresses do not happily mix.
Realising I didn’t know her name I quickly asked and she answered that it was Ellie. Though it translated as Ellie in English, it had a funny accent which was quite amusing. I didn’t point it out.
“Well, Ellie, let me tell you now, I am not a big fan of dresses,” I warned her, trying to remain polite and dignified.
“My Lady,” she answered, a fraction of a frown creasing her forehead, “it is expected that you should always be dressed accordingly.”
“According to what?”
“Your High Name, of course,” she answered quietly.
I sighed; she would probably get into trouble if I didn’t do exactly what was expected of me. I cringed but said reluctantly, “Alright but I’m not wearing a corset, or a wig.”
“That is fine, my Lady,” she seemed confused.
Trying not to think about how strange it was being helped to dress, I said, “Call me Ruby.”
“I do not think that would be appropriate, my Lady.”
It was going to be a long night. I huffed.
“Can I have a look around?” I asked Ellie once I was dressed.
“Yes my Lady, I’ll just fetch your Protector,” answered Ellie, moving swiftly towards the door.
“I don’t need a-“ I objected automatically, but she was already gone.
“It is for your safety,” said the other girl apologetically.
“It’s punishment,” I muttered. These girls were lovely; don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t need to be escorted everywhere and have everything done for me. I’m a big girl. I can wipe my own ass.
When the door opened one of the scarily big twins stepped through. My stomach dropped disobediently. Not this guy, anyone but this guy.
“This is Kian,” announced Ellie. “Your Protector.”
A deep irritated moan bubbled in my throat; I managed to restrain it before it unleashed. Annoyance panged in my stomach like cramp. My head was already beginning to ache. I’m never going to be alone. Never.
Chapter Twenty
I wandered aimlessly with my silent company, frequently getting lost then having to ask Kian directions. He would respond with a grunt and a point in an opposing direction so very politely; like a caveman. My petulance about having to be escorted around like a child had not yet dimmed.
I discovered many rooms including dining rooms, greenhouses with the roofs covered in snow, expansive glass conservatories and huge ballrooms with painted ceilings and grand occupied chairs. Unfortunately those chairs were filled by people who also blatantly ignored me. I tried talking to a young girl with bright red hair almost identical to mine, but as soon as I approached she moved.
There were lots of places I was forbidden to enter. Mostly these were visitor’s rooms, which I understood, but some just seemed silly. Like I wasn’t allowed to go down to see the Slave’s quarters or I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen. The most intriguing thing I was denied access to was the entire third floor.
“You can’t go there,” said Kian gruffly.
We were climbing upstairs after exploring the second level when I’d noticed another staircase. I’d attempted to climb it but was abruptly yanked back.
“Why not?” I asked curiously, glancing up the stairs. If I stretched my neck around at an awkward angle I could just see a closed door at the very top.
“It is Lord Lynk’s chambers.”
“He has a whole floor?” I wondered incredulously, “Why?” What could he possibly be doing up there that would take up an entire floor? Housing an army? Well, that was an unnerving possibility.
Kian grunted indifferently. “He has many floors,” he answered trying to lead me back down the stairs. I followed reluctantly.
I almost smirked, “You don’t know, do you?”
His closed face seemed to flicker ever so slightly, “I am not permitted such information.”
I think that was the longest sentence he’d said so far.
“You must be invited up there,” he explained briskly.
We’ll see about that, I thought, feeling the challenge trigger an instinctive response in my mind. Whatever was up there, I would find out.
Eventually I stumbled upon a library and found momentary contentment. My warrior-guy watched silently while I searched the room. It was a beautiful circular room, stacked to the decorated ceiling with books, scrolls and coloured strips of parchment that held maps. I studied some of the maps thoroughly, thinking it might be useful one day.
In Kariak everything was icy mountains until you reached the southern area of the island where the foothills gradually sloped into hills, then ‘summer’ forests, then deserts. The biggest desert was called Trigate, and that was where the Fire City, Ephizon, burned on the horizon.
I must have spent hours in there, but soon my rumbling stomach became overwhelming and I headed back to my room. When I returned my maids miraculously appeared beside me.
“Would you like supper in your room, Lady?” asked one of them.
I nodded appreciatively.
Both girls scurried off to the door and by the time I’d put down the few books I’d borrowed, servants were streaming into my room carrying plates of steaming food. Not expecting dinner would come quite so fast, I slowly made my way towards the little wooden dining table. Sitting down, my suddenly ravenous stomach growled. The servants went out again, leaving jugs of red liquid, cold salads, various meats and hunks of thick farmhouse bread smothered deliciously in creamy melting butter. There was far too much but I dug
into my food, feeling lonely.
Once I’d politely excused my maids and all the food had been cleared away, I finally tiptoed over to my balcony to check if anyone was out there. Unfortunately there were more guards below my window. Damn. I knew that my lovely Protector Kian was outside the other door. I went back to plonk grumpily onto my massive curtained bed.
I sighed, glancing above me at the ceiling; it was a pleasant colour, the delicious orangey-red of ripened peaches. A sweet, innocent shade it was, unsubstantial from a distance until you examined really closely, finding intermittent accidental splutters of gold from the painter’s clumsy brush. It was a blank canvas for my thoughts, which soon turned to Kieran. I still felt stung by his reaction to me the other night, the way he’d looked at me, so undeniably horrified. It made me cringe just thinking about it.
A loud intrusive knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. My body froze. I carefully sat up and spun around just as the door creaked open.
Lynk was home.
He walked forwards with that familiar feline stride, his face unreadable. His luminous skin was dotted with pale gold freckles that somehow made him look even more dangerous; it was an innocent danger.
“You’re here,” he stated, almost suspiciously.
Trying to calm my fragile nerves, I pulled on my poker face. “I am,” I answered, nodding my head and impulsively straightening to my feet.
He glanced around the room in a way that made me think he hadn’t been in here in a long time. “Your room is what you expected, I take it?”
I nodded, though it was an absolute lie. “It is how I remember it,” I answered carefully, skilfully calm and composed while my head was spinning.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
“Yes.” This isn’t at all awkward, I thought sarcastically. Then a question flooded into my mind. “I need to go out tomorrow morning. I have a friend who’s teaching me some defence.”
He looked sceptical, obviously not liking that idea. “You can go, but with your Protector. If he informs me it’s in anyway unsuitable you won’t go again.”
Ashes (The Firebird Trilogy Book 1) Page 23