Phoenix Feather

by Angela Wallace

  The light began to fade and Aidan broke away, stumbling back a few feet. Trent took a step toward her, but she held up her hand to keep him at bay. She lifted her head and smiled at him. She looked serene and regal, her hair still shining like a pale star, all pain gone from her eyes.

  Then she burst into fire. Trent shot his hands up to cover his face and staggered back. He stared in horror, but Aidan continued to smile. The flames flickered and grew, curling around her limbs like vines. She lifted her arms, and Trent thought he saw the outline of wings in the firelight. Then the fire exploded in a series of sparks and she was gone. The fire died just as quickly, until only a pile of ashes remained.

  Trent took cautious steps toward it. It was just a pile of black dust, unremarkable except for dazzling red specks like ruby sand. He let out the breath he’d been holding. The sun was getting lower, and the light caught on something in the ash. Trent squatted down to peer at it more closely and poked his finger through the dust. He pulled out a smooth, white round orb. A pearl. He furrowed his brow in confusion until he remembered part of the mythology, how the phoenix could cry tears of pearls. He also realized that he had never seen Aidan cry before. Throughout everything with Chris and today, she had grieved with him, but never shed a tear. He smiled as he closed his hand around the gift.

  He got up and went back to Chris, who was sleeping, just sleeping lazily as if they had been out camping. Trent shook him gently.

  Chris’s eyelids fluttered open. “Trent. What…?” He looked around at the forest and then at the wheelchair he sat in and the IV line in his hand. “Am I dying?” he asked in confusion.

  Trent smiled. “I don’t think so.” He helped Chris stand and get back to the car, and drove them to the cabin.

  Chris became ecstatic as he realized how good he felt. He hopped and stretched and spun across the cabin’s threshold, proclaiming the extraordinary surge of energy he had and how the pain had gone. He kept asking Trent what had happened, but Trent couldn’t think of a good answer.

  “A miracle,” was all he said. He pulled out his cell phone, which listed nine missed calls from Bryan. Now began the juggling of stories and cleanup. When Trent looked at Chris though, lively and excited, he knew it was worth it. Trent dialed Bryan’s number.

  “What have you done?” Bryan said upon answering.

  “Everything’s okay—”

  “I’m at the hospital with Phoebe,” Bryan interrupted. “You kidnapped her brother when he was dying?”

  “Bryan,” Trent said firmly, trying to get his brother’s attention. “Chris is fine. Better than fine. Bring Phoebe up to the cabin and I’ll explain. Tell her he’s fine.” He heard Bryan muttering to himself on the other end.

  “Be there soon,” he said gruffly, and hung up.

  Trent and Chris sat and talked in the kitchen. It was hard to explain things without there being some major skepticism. He told Chris that, yes, he had been admitted to the hospital, and that Aidan—after he had also told him that story—had wanted to give him a goodbye gift before she left. That the gift had been a miracle, Trent didn’t deny, though he didn’t explain how it had happened. Chris stuttered on his responses, unable to form coherent sentences while still overwhelmed with everything. He tried to get more information about Aidan, even demanded she come right back and see him, but Trent couldn’t help with that.

  Bryan and Phoebe stormed through the door almost an hour later. His brother must have had the sirens blaring and broken ordinary traffic laws to get there so fast. Phoebe stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw Chris, up and walking and looking as healthy as he had three months ago. After a moment of shock, all the terror and panic on her face vanished. She ran into his arms, laughing and crying hysterically. Trent left them in the kitchen. Chris could explain things to her. He nodded to Bryan, and the two stepped outside.

  “Where’s Aidan?” Bryan asked.

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “She gave up her life so Chris could have his.” Trent didn’t look at his brother, but could feel Bryan’s gaze boring into his side.

  “Are you okay?”

  Trent gripped the porch rail, the powdered snow biting into his flesh. “She’ll be back. In a year or so, she promised to come back. I proposed and she said yes.” It was as if he needed to convince himself.

  Bryan reached up to rub his neck. “That’s some woman you have there, or whatever she called herself.”

  Trent finally looked at him.

  “‘Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.’ That’s somewhere in the Bible.” He put a hand on Trent’s shoulder. “Are you going to make it a year?”

  “I hope so.” Trent glanced back at the house where Chris and Phoebe were. Instead of losing Chris, they had lost Aidan, and Trent couldn’t even tell them why. They needed him now, and he needed them.

  “I’ve got your back this time,” Bryan said. “You have my word.”

  Trent nodded. “Good, because I’m going to need your help with a few things.”

  They turned to go back into the house. Trent cast one last look out at the now dark woods. He would miss her—he already did. But a year from today, he would be back, waiting, waiting for her to emerge from the forest, the fiery red-haired woman, to come running into his arms.

  ***

  Trent went back out to that spot the next morning. The pile of ash was still there, undisturbed. He gathered it up and took it deeper into the forest where there was less chance of someone coming upon it. He went back the next day and found it has he had left. He started to worry. Aidan had never done anything like that before. Maybe there was no resurrection after giving up one’s life.

  Bryan had taken Chris and Phoebe back to the city and would be coming back for Trent after finishing up a few details on the serial killer case. They still didn’t know the Russian’s identity. Trent wandered around the cabin, doing chores, feeling a heavy loneliness inside him.

  He went out again on the third day. When he got to the spot, he stopped. The pile of ash had been scattered in a sweeping circle. At first he thought an animal had gotten to it and he felt a surge of panic. Then a bright light hit his face and he lifted his arm to shield his eyes. There in the tree a few feet away, next to the position of the sun in the distance, perched a small red bird.

  Trent felt as though he stopped breathing as they stared at each other. The bird chirped melodiously, did a little dance along the branch, and flew away. Trent couldn’t explain the sense of peace that filled him at that moment. He smiled and turned back toward the cabin. He’d tell Bryan he was ready to go back to the city now.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  “I’m flying back tomorrow,” Bryan said.

  “How’s everyone doing?” Trent asked. He was on his way up to the cabin. Bryan was in Dallas visiting family for the holidays.

  “They’re good. I was the butt of many jokes, most of them revolving around alien abductions and other such disappearing acts.”

  Trent smiled. “Was I mentioned in any of them?”

  “I told them you were working.”

  “I volunteered to work Christmas.”

  “I left out that part,” Bryan replied. He paused. “Call me, you know, after.”

  “I will.” Trent hung up.

  When he got to the cabin, he went into the basement to find an airtight container he could leave in the forest and animals and the elements wouldn’t be able to touch its contents. Then he went upstairs to get some clothes from Aidan’s suitcase. After she supposedly took off last year, Trent went to her apartment and packed some of her things to take to the cabin so it would look as though she had got up and left. He took the box of clothes into the forest to the spot where he had last seen her and hid it in some bushes. He looked for her, but even though he didn’t see her, he felt that she was watching.

  He went back to the cabin to wait. Had it been spring or summer, he might
have camped out there in a tent, but he had to admit it was too cold. He busied himself with chores: shoveling the drive, chopping wood, and fixing little things around the house. He always kept the little velvet box in his pocket no matter what he was doing. He wanted it ready when she came back.

  He heard the phone ring inside the house, so he put down the axe and went to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Trent,” Chris said. “How’s the view?”

  Trent glanced out the back window out of habit. The snow-capped peaks glowed white. “Sunny.”

  “Have you heard from her?”

  Trent held back a sigh. One of them always asked at least once a month—usually Phoebe. “No,” he replied honestly.

  “But you expect to?”

  Trent frowned. “What makes you say that?”

  “It was exactly a year ago we were all up there,” Chris said. “When you left, you didn’t look like it was for a morose trip down self-pity memory lane.”

  “It can’t just be happy memory lane?”

  “If you insist. But a miracle happened up there last year, and I wouldn’t be surprised if another one did now.”

  Trent smiled. Chris could be very perceptive. “Did you guys have a good New Years?”

  “Yeah. April’s brother was there. I think he likes Phoebe.” Chris had met his girlfriend at a summer internship program, and the two had been going out since July. Trent liked the two of them together, and Phoebe seemed to be adjusting well to the change in dynamics.

  “What does Phoebe think?”

  “She’s oblivious. April and I are going to arrange a double date.”

  Trent chuckled at the idea. “Good luck with that.”

  “Trent...” Chris paused. “Tell her hi, if you talk to her.”

  “Of course.”

  They said goodbye, and Trent went back out to finish chopping wood. He froze before he reached the woodpile. There she was, standing across the yard in between two trees, her hair falling in dark red waves around her shoulders, her eyes gleaming amber with the remnants of her inner fire. She was more beautiful now than he remembered, if that was even possible. She smiled shyly and took a small step toward him.

  They met halfway, and just stared at each other for a long time.

  “Thanks,” Aidan said finally, and gestured at the sweats and sweatshirt he had left for her. “Usually I take time to prepare for this, but I had been in a hurry.”

  Trent smiled and pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  “Oh,” she breathed when he let her go. “I’ve missed that.”

  He took a step back and got down on one knee, vaguely noting that the snow was going to soak his jeans. He reached into his pocket for the velvet box. “I’ve waited a year for this.” He pulled it out and opened the lid. He held the ring up to her. “Aidan Quinn, will you marry me?”

  Her brows dipped as she studied the ring, and Trent watched her eyes widen as she recognized exactly what kind of pearl he had custom fastened in the center, crowned on all sides by the tiniest diamonds. She held out her hand to him.

  “Oh yes, Trent McCain. I will.”

  He got up and slipped the ring on her finger. Then she kissed him and laughed in delight.

  “Can I cook you something?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m famished,” she replied. “Tell me all that’s happened while I was away.”

  Trent wrapped his arm around her waist and they walked back to the cabin. His patience and endurance had been rewarded. Aidan was back in his arms, and he was going to marry her. He had fallen in love with a mythological creature thousands of years old, and she had fallen in love with him.

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, all thanks and glory be to God in the highest. Any and all inspiration, semblance of talent, and success comes from Him. Next, I want to thank my mom for her unfailing support and encouragement, and for her idea about the engagement ring: loved it. Thank you, Katie, for being my personal cheerleader while I wrote Phoenix Feather and for reading every word of it with enthusiasm, and thanks to my Knights of the Dragon Pen, Alina and Helen, for your feedback and last minute critiques. I love you all.

  Other Titles by Angela Wallace

  Dreamwalker, a novella

  After Lexa’s comrade died saving her life, she retired from the special forces and retreated to a sanctuary in the mountains. A year later, war is brewing with the neighboring country, and Lexa discovers a threat even the army can’t stand against—a dream assassin. As the only other dreamwalker in known existence, Lexa returns to the capital of Artasia and her old post to protect her country’s leaders. But is the cocky, mysterious dreamwalker who seems to be stalking her the true mastermind? Or is something even more sinister threatening not just Artasia, but the dreamscape as well? As Lexa fights to protect those she loves, she discovers a power that can transcend worlds, and a destiny she never could have imagined.

  Elemental Magic

  Aileen Donovan wants nothing more than recognition as a scientist by her supernatural community. What better way to do that than to solve a mystery involving a power-hungry alchemist, hallucinogenic coral, and a homicidal sea dragon? The hard part will be working with Coast Guard officer Colin Benson—until the tides turn, and Aileen realizes that love and duty may not be mutually exclusive.

  Dry Spell (Elemental Magic 2)

  Aileen Donovan is an elemental with magical control over water. When she finds a mummified body at a scientists’ convention, she suspects supernatural foul play. As more bodies turn up, Aileen’s amateur sleuthing not only pits her against a serial killer, but also a cunning vampire lord, and an elemental agent with ulterior motives. Can she stop a murderer, or is she out of her supernatural league?

  Earth Tones (Elemental Magic 3)

  As the resident Steward of Yakutat, Alaska, Nita Young uses her elemental earth powers to watch over the small, isolated outpost. When a series of wild animal attacks devastate the town, she’ll have to hold it together in order to solve the murders of her friends. And they are murders. Someone’s summoned a supernatural black panther and is using it to kill. But in a town this small, the killer is someone Nita knows.

  About the author:

  Angela Wallace has been penning adventures ever since she was sucked through a magical portal as a child. What she saw and whom she met gave birth to exciting and complex fantasy worlds where defying the laws of physics was a bonus. She has since come back down to earth, only to discover this mortal realm has magic of its own. Now she is quite at home in the world of urban fantasy, though believes that love, faith, and hope are of a stronger magic than fire wielding and sorcery. She loves gun-toting good boys, and could have been a cop in another life except real blood makes her queasy. She’ll have to stick to solving supernatural mysteries. Language is her pleasure, whether it’s weaving words on a page or lassoing linguistics into translations as a sign language interpreter. Angela is currently working on her next book.

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