Ashes (The Firebird Trilogy Book 1)

by Stephanie Harbon

  I stared at him in confusion, “Kieran, what are you doing?”

  He didn’t flinch at the sudden sound of my voice. “Hauling ice,” he answered.

  I rolled my eyes, but decided to save that conversation for later; there were more pressing matters to discuss. “So, what happened last night?”

  Kieran shrugged noncommittally, “Nothing much. I saw the Daemons in the cages but no half-breeds.”

  “But what do you think?” I said anxiously.

  He didn’t turn as he continued to push the heavy ice one last time, positioning it correctly. It was massive, about as tall as me and triple my width. Then he spoke, finally glancing at me, “I think it needs looking into.”

  “Another thing,” I remembered, “Lynk has an entire floor that no one is allowed access to, there must be something going on up there.”

  Kieran didn’t answer. He seemed really distant.

  I thought for a moment, “Maybe I could find out more.” I had an idea, “I’ll sneak upstairs tonight and-“

  Kieran’s beautiful face was abruptly furious, the distance in his eyes shattering as he whirled on me, “No way.”

  “What?” I thought he wanted me to find out information.

  “This is worse than I thought it would be. You don’t know what’s happening up there; you don’t have experience with this kind of thing, and, quite frankly, you’re about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.”

  My eyes narrowed, “You think you’re more qualified than me?”

  Kieran stared at me for a long, seemingly everlasting moment, looking as if he wanted to say something but was unsure. Then he sighed, and obviously said the total opposite. “Yes,” he answered, squaring his shoulders firmly. I noticed the glint of his golden chain, “You are not allowed to go anywhere near that floor; or anywhere near those Daemons.”

  “And that’s an order, from who?” I questioned maliciously. Once again he was attempting to boss me around. Well, screw him.

  “Your real protector.” His eyes smouldered ferociously, burrowing into my very soul. “I am your healer and I am telling you. There is no point arguing. If it means chaining you to the goddamn floor, you’re going to be safe.”

  You know, if he hadn’t had said that, I probably would have listened to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I tried, petulantly, to ignore Kieran. I folded my arms across my chest irritably, my bottom lip jutting out like a sulky teenager. I stared unyieldingly at the massive chunk of sparkling glacier ice.

  To be honest though, I lost my concentration when he took his shirt off.

  My body instantly went rigid, tingling sensations exploded across my skin. I heard the material drop to the floor and held my ground, determined to ignore him and not stare at his body. I fixed my eyes firmly on the ice.

  I jumped, startled, when the sudden sound of tearing flesh pieced my ears.

  My neck snapped up at the horrible noise. I gasped as Kieran’s deadly black wings gouged from his shoulders like cutting blades. His tattoos rippled across his arms, dancing over his biceps like waves. Those devilish wings spread from his muscular back while simultaneously he kept his human body intact. How he did it, I had no idea. His shadowy wings seemed even more gigantic now, dwarfing his mortal frame, hell, dwarfing the courtyard.

  “How are you doing that?” I asked, sounding falsely uninterested. Blood dribbled down his back from the fresh indignant wounds.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve done it, not since England,” Kieran grunted nonchalantly –like he didn’t even feel the pain, “that’s why I’m bleeding.”

  “But why are you doing it?” I demanded, stunned.

  He smirked “Don’t look too horrified Princess; you’ll have to do this too.”

  My eyes widened in shock, “Why?”

  His expression told me I was annoying him. “Ask Google, I’m busy.”

  “No wonder people thought we were Angels,” I murmured under my breath.

  I could only imagine how breathtaking Jayson would be with his golden wings displayed like that; a perfect Angel incarnate. Kieran was the opposite, his wings so stunningly black, deadly and dangerous. Complete with the smug, defiant twist of his gorgeous lips, the only angel I could picture him being was Lucifer as he was cast out of Heaven.

  I watched silently as Kieran folded his majestic wings forwards, wrapping them around the hunk of jagged diaphanous ice, smoothing over the uneven surface. He was polishing the ice with the flat side of his bladelike wings. Slowly the ice became a frictionless shape. Then Kieran used the tips of his wings –so dangerously sharp-to furrow deeper gashes. The ice artfully chiselled away to reveal what soon became identifiable as a snowflake.

  I was so enthralled by Kieran’s developing masterpiece that I found myself lost in his work. Fascinated, I digested the concentration on his gorgeous face, the way his shimmering black feathers confidently sliced and carved. It was flawless; a beautifully intricate snowflake chiselled perfectly from the ice. It rose incredibly, just above my head. Light filtered through it, casting sprinklings of colourful spectrums, it was as if it were carved from diamond. I couldn’t believe how detailed it was, so many polished facets… I gaped at the sculpture in absolute astonishment.

  Once he had finished, half an hour or so later, I was snatched from my trance by Ebony returning from town.

  “Ruby?” she called from the kitchen, her eyes wide, “What are you still doing here? Lynk will kill you if you stay much longer.”

  “Yeah,” I called back grudgingly, “I’ll go. Don’t worry”

  I felt something tickle the back of my neck as I got up to leave. The silky texture was unmistakeable, the soft side of Kieran’s feathers. I didn’t look back. His touch whispered one thing; be responsible. I ignored the gesture stubbornly. I was going upstairs tonight. I had to know what was up there.

  My maids were gone. I was finally alone.

  Once I’d arrived at the Palace it became apparent that the Slaves –to my astonishment-had actually covered for me. My maids, Evelyn and even the two guards from last night had promised to keep it quiet. I guessed it would be their necks on the line too if Lynk had discovered the truth. He’d left early this morning, before anyone had even realised I was gone. Evelyn particularly was angry at me, making me promise not to sneak out again, but overall I was quite happy with the result.

  The day dragged by slowly. I had little to do, but as night came, I felt like it had flown by. I converted my plan of action into a few simple steps as the opportune time approached.

  Step one; get dressed again.

  I pulled on my dark Phoenix Gear. It was my second set as the first, unfortunately, had been ripped last night. I rummaged around for a plain black shirt, scraping back my conspicuous red hair.

  Step two; make sure I’m completely awake and prepared.

  I hurried into the bathroom, refreshing my face with chillingly cold water. Must wake up, must wake up, I thought repeatedly. I needed an energy drink, the kind filled with caffeine, sugar and everything bad for you. Shut up, I battered myself, I can do this without Redbull. After all, I already have wings.

  I was a little hysterical in my nervousness.

  Step three; wait for the appropriate time.

  I sat down on my bed, reading so I would stay awake, then I waited. Time slowly trudged past. After two hours had dragged by, and the whole building was apparently asleep, I emerged again.

  Step four: remove the guards.

  I crept over to the door leading to my balcony but halted when a dangerous glint caught my eye. Impulsively I followed the light, discovering one of Jayson’s live training blades sitting innocently on my desktop; he’d forgotten it yesterday morning. Deliberating, I wondered was it best to take a weapon…

  Maybe I was being stupid, maybe this really wasn’t a good idea. I mean, Kieran was probably right, I wasn’t trained and I didn’t really know what I was doing. I shuddered at the consequences if I were caught.


  I shook my head furiously. I’m not going back now. I picked up the blade.

  Shuffling out onto my balcony as quietly as physically possible, I slowly crouched down onto the cool stone floor. My eyes searched the darkness, discovering guarding warriors directly below my balcony.

  Instantaneously I opened my mouth, feeling the icy wind trickle straight down my throat like I’d just swallowed an ice cube.

  My lullaby echoed over the wind, distorting the atmosphere; the breeze carried the soft enchanting melody. I felt it gently touch the guards below, so tentatively encouraging them to listen that they barely even noticed. They slipped into a dreamless slumber. I turned and walked down towards the other end of the balcony. This seemed far too easy.

  Step five: get onto the top floor.

  Swallowing, I carefully pulled myself up onto the railing that ran the perimeter of my balcony, gravitating myself, grasping the edge of the wall. Praying it was stable enough, I climbed on top of the large wooden swing that perched patiently at one end of the balcony. Standing up straight, my balance wavered as the swing shuddered under my weight.

  I glanced around for something to grab onto and luckily spotted a stone pattern that was carved up the building. My heart was beating fast now. I roughly wedged my foot into a small crevice in the stonework. Pausing momentarily as I searched for another suitable hole, I quickly found a piece of rock shaped like a flower. I grabbed onto it, hauling my body up. Finding another indentation I climbed up further, fiercely clinging on. Using the stonework I eventually scrambled into a position where I was next to the railing of the balcony above mine.

  Stretching my neck I glanced into the room. Fortunately it was deserted. I swung myself up and over, landing professionally onto the stone floor. Staying cautiously crouched, I double checked the room was empty. It appeared to be, so I carefully slid the glass doors aside.

  The room was almost the same shape as mine, though no ornaments lay on the furniture. The large plain bed was made perfectly with hospital corners and obviously hadn’t been slept in. Carefully, I tiptoed across the floor, pressing my ear against the door.

  Focusing my sensitive hearing, I listened for movement on the other side. Nothing. Nothing at all. For some reason this unnerved me. Fear is good, I tried to persuade myself, it makes you react faster. Then it hit me; I hadn’t thought about what I would do once I actually got up here. I didn’t have a step six. I’m such an idiot.

  Instead of waiting for a full-blown panic attack I delicately let the door creak open a crack. It was an empty hallway. Reassured, I slipped out into the dark corridor. Unlit lamps hung on the walls, nestled between heavy wooden doors. The whole place was empty, dark and lifeless; like a lonely planet.

  My mind was buzzing, electrically alive. Every nerve in my body was charged. Perhaps if I clicked my fingers sparks would fly.

  Surreptitiously creeping down the shadowed corridor, I peeked into the occasional door. Predominantly they were identical to the first, empty untouched bedrooms. However, when I glanced into the last room, right at the very end of the hallway, I stopped.

  No lamps or incandescent orbs lined the walls, but it wasn’t the dreary darkness that made me pause initially. It was the smell. The walls were dripping with the rancid stench of inhumane living conditions. I gagged automatically, but as my nostrils adjusted I noticed things.

  The one thick circular window at the far side of the room let an insignificant amount of moonlight struggle through, casting down like a gothic special effect in a horror movie. The light caught the sharp edges of mortal instruments. Knives, shackles, whips and various other lethal weapons were scattered across the scathed surface of a table. Crude-looking torture devices were stained with crusty reddish liquid. Edging closer, there was no mistaking that sickening metallic scent; Blood.

  I gagged again, bile rising in my throat as I breathed in the revolting odour. Losing my balance as I coughed, I stumbled forwards. It was what I imagined a slave ship would have smelt like. My legs bashed into something heavy on the floor, it rang like metal.

  I’d had enough of the creepy darkness. It was as if it were sticking to my skin, wrapping itself around me with suffocating tightness, like a choking poisonous fog. I snapped my fingers with the charged energy in my system to evoke fire, relieved when the light burnt comfortingly above my palms.

  I’d stood on some old-fashioned iron clamps that hold prisoners down by their waists and legs. The kind you see preserved in ancient castles. Gruesome hand prints stretched out towards me in blood on the floor; as if reaching out for help. Shredded feathers rested in the liquid.

  The worst part was that this blood was fresh.

  I heard a quiet creak behind me, like the shift of feet on a wooden surface. Instantly I turned to the source, but found nothing. Maybe it was just a rat or something, I thought optimistically.

  The hair rose on the back of my neck. I knew something was wrong. I listened intently, my heart pounding against my ribcage. A cool sweat broke across my forehead, formulating beads. The adrenalin that gushed through my veins told me one thing; get the hell out of here, now!

  Then I felt a small breeze blow out my light.

  As my eyes desperately adjusted to the darkness, I saw a flicker in the corner of my eye. Then, when I looked back at the table something was missing. Straining my eyes closer, I realised it was a knife. A terrified shudder rocketed through my stomach. I moved to clutch the blade at my belt to grasp it protectively. Immediately it was knocked from my hands, flying from my grip. I heard it smack into the wall loudly.

  I was breathing heavily now, shaking.

  I glimpsed another shadow. My heart felt like it was going to explode from my chest. I turned when the iron shackles made a noise as something caught the chains. Then so quickly I couldn’t have even attempted to stop it, my legs were thrown from beneath me. I tried not to scream as I fell backwards, wincing in preparation for the crash; but I landed on something hard and obviously human. Immediately a knife was at my heart.

  The hot blade sunk slightly into my skin. Then in that millisecond, I felt the hands that grasped my shoulders and recognition hit. I knew those hands.

  “Stop,” I spluttered. The blade dropped.

  The horrified surprise was blatant in his voice, “Ruby?”

  Gasping slightly, I pulled my sleeve up to my chest to try and stop the bleeding; luckily the knife was one from the table and was blunted from over-use. I shivered. I nodded furiously, half-relieved and half-furious.

  Kieran looked astounded, like he couldn’t comprehend what he’d just done. Automatically he reached out, removed my hands, gently placing his fingers over the stabbed area. I felt warmth, saw a flash of black tattoos and when I checked I found my injury was completely healed. He released me. The pain dissolved into nothingness.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  Kieran seemed to have decided how to handle the situation. Very predictably, he was mad. Well maybe ‘mad’ was a slight understatement.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he exploded ferociously, attempting to be quiet and failing epically. “I could have killed you.”

  “Really,” I snapped sarcastically. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  I swear he growled at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you that,” I retorted angrily.

  He ignored my comment, “It’s dangerous, Ruby, go back.”

  “So far, the only thing that’s been a danger to me is you.” I retaliated bitterly, trying to keep my voice hushed.

  “I’m only asking you one more time and then I’m going to throw you off a balcony myself. Go to your room, Ruby,” he ordered.

  “You go back, I’m not leaving.”

  He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, “Every second we spend here the bigger the chance we’re going to be caught.”

  “Then stop trying to push me away and start actually listening to me.” I whispered seriously. “I’m not leaving,
so if you want to protect me then you’re just going to have to come with me.”

  He exhaled sharply, but after a few intense moments he said, “You do exactly what I say.” He emphasised, “No second chances.”

  I stared at him evenly for a long time, and then eventually nodded.

  I watched as he bent down, inspecting the floor. The recent hand prints and scuff marks were still drying. Kieran frowned thoughtfully, stood, then made his way over to the door. He closed his eyes, laying his ear against the door, listening. When he gave me a signal I padded over to him, silently going out.

  I followed Kieran as we crept down the empty hallway, leading to a sort of waiting area type thing, with unoccupied chairs and dead neglected flowers in pots. Kieran touched the flowers as we passed; they sprang back to life.

  Why was this place so empty? I know it should have been a good thing, but it was damn well spooking me out. There should have been terrifying monsters wandering about for me to sneak past; like in the movies.

  Kieran found a door and pointed at it. I nodded comprehensively, waiting for him to listen for anyone on the other side. He shook his head and we made our way to another door. This time he gave a nod. I gently pried it open. Inside was a staircase, the kind you see leading up to balconies at theatres and football stadiums.

  “Quickly,” Kieran whispered and we hurriedly made our way up.

  Kieran stopped just before we reached the top, turning completely immobile as he listened. I tried not to breathe.

  Lifting his hand, Kieran gestured for me to come closer.

  “There’s someone about five metres away to our right,“ he murmured into my ear. “More than one person I think, guards most likely.”

  I pulled a face. “You got all that just from listening for two seconds?”

  He rolled his eyes, “We’re not in a good position here, if someone comes, we’re trapped both ways.”