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Authors: Amy K Kuivalainen

Rise of the Firebird (17 page)

BOOK: Rise of the Firebird
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“I’m out here because I noticed you missing and also because something is wrong and they are not telling us what it is.”

“Blue Jay and Mama Lya?”

“Yes, they are letting Harley have welcome home celebrations but something has happened. I can feel it.”

“Maybe it is because I am here,” Anya said. “Mama Lya has always looked at me strangely. The stories of Yanka have made it that way everywhere.”

“I wouldn’t let it concern you. People will always be afraid of what they don’t understand.” He surprised her by placing a strong hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go back before they notice we are
both
gone.”

***

An elegant Russian Blue cat padded silently along the rooftop. There was a gentle rustle and popping sound as the cat stood onto its hind legs and transformed into a beautiful woman with dark hair. She watched the woman and tall man below talking before disappearing around the back of the shop. Veruschka pulled a phone from her pocket and dialled a number.

“Tsarina, she has returned…yes, I will be there.”

***

Mama Lya sat tall on the dining room chair in Anya’s hotel suite. Cerise had organised accommodation in the French Quarter the previous night and hadn’t been seen since. Anya had woken to a sharp knocking on her door only minutes beforehand. Mama Lya was dressed as if she was off to church in an elegant white pantsuit and a polished ebony walking cane. Anya had noticed it the night before, though she hadn’t seen Mama Lya use it on the previous visit.

“I can order some room service if you would like anything,” Anya offered as she tied her robe tighter.

“That won’t be necessary,” replied Mama Lya as her dark eyes levelled on her.

“Then what do you want?”

“When are you leaving the city, girl?”

“I don’t know, soon. Why?” Mama Lya’s thin lips pursed together. “You shouldn’t keep secrets. Why don’t you want to tell me why you want to get rid of me so badly?” Anya pushed.

“Your time away has made you sharper.”

“Grief, madness, and magic will do that to you.”

“At least you are not drinking.”

“The day is young.”

“You are too scared to drink.”

“That too. Why am I scared, Mama Lya?”

“Because both sides want you dead and they aren’t the only ones.”

“Who else?”

“The scavengers that gather when war begins to brew. Others with power that want yours. They will all gather.”

“Shame it’s not allies.”

“They will come too,” Mama Lya gripped her cane and leant closer. “There are some very powerful beings out there that don’t hold with either side. Some who know what it’s like to be in a war and who do not want another.”

“Neutrals are neutral for a reason. They won’t pick the sides that there is now, so what makes you think they would pick ours?”

“Not ours. Yours.”

“They won’t follow the descendant of the Queen of Darkness.”

“Maybe they won’t have to. Maybe they will help you by not helping them.”

“What happened when we were away?” Anya pressed. It was the most Mama Lya had ever talked to her and she was struggling to keep eye contact.

“We are all being watched. The shop is under constant surveillance. They were looking for you. The Conseil Neutres have noticed too. They are uneasy about having so many dark ones in the city. People have been going missing. People coming up dead in terrible ways. Tortured, drained. They were all neutrals.”

“Do you think the Darkness is trying to recruit?” Anya got to her feet and started to pace.

“The signs are about right. They usually stay far from this city, but you’ve brought them here. Yanka is searching for you and if she came to the city she would cause hell.”

“Yanka won’t come here. She won’t leave Russia when some lackey can try to pick me up as easily.”

“If the killings don’t stop, the Council may hand you over themselves. Fear is a powerful motivator. New Orleans is one of the only safe cities in the world for neutrals. They won’t want these killings to be publicised because it would risk the city’s reputation.”

“If they are so worried, why haven’t they tried to jump me already?”

“The only thing that is standing between you and them right now is me. I’ve spoken for you, girl. Assured them, but that assurance is fleeting.” Mama Lya opened her purse and took a cigarette from a silver case. She lit it and dragged the fragrant smoke in. “The Conseil Neutres, for all their power and prestige, are afraid of you. That’s the only reason why you are still drawing breath and remain free. The clerk downstairs? He is an informant of theirs. So is the majority of the guests in the hotel as well. You’ll be watched where you go in New Orleans.”

“That’s just…great,” Anya sighed. “I will talk to Yvan and Aramis.”

“Don’t take too long.” Mama Lya got to her feet and headed for the door. Anya took the key from the coffee table and followed her.

“I’m not. I am going to wake Yvan up right now.”

“He is good man, Anyanka.”

“I know he is.”

“You’d best protect him better than what you’ve done so far,” Mama Lya said instead of a goodbye before walking down the carpeted hallway.

Yvan had taken a room across from Anya’s and she tried to ignore Mama Lya’s parting comment as she reached for the door. The brass handle grew hot under her hand as she pushed her power into the lock. The door clicked and opened silently for her. Shutting the door behind her, she padded softly through the dark rooms. The curtains were drawn but still left enough light for her to make out Yvan’s long body under the covers. She climbed in next to him and he mumbled something into his pillow.

“It’s only me, Yvan,” she whispered.

“What’s the matter?” Yvan opened one blue eye.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Mama Lya told me that I’ve more people wanting to kill me.”

“You woke me up for that?”

“It’s the Conseil Neutres.”

“Why do they want you dead,
shalosť
?”

“Because the Darkness are trying to recruit in their neutral city and killing off the ones who refuse to join them. I need to leave the city or they will hand me over to them.”

“I see. Well, the sooner we start looking for the sword, the better,” he said as he rolled onto his side to talk to her better.

“The sword…sure. The magic sword from heaven should be no problem to find.” Anya tried not to start crying at the thought of it.

“Don’t worry,
shalosť,
this is how it has to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“In all the great stories there is always a distressing damsel,” Yvan nudged her. “A heroic prince…that’s me, of course.”

“Of course,” Anya rolled her eyes.

“There is no one else of royal blood so it has to be me,” he argued. “Then there is the evil queen or witch…”

“Or in our case both…”

“There’s an ancient prophecy as well, so
of course,
there has to be a magical sword.” He was smiling as Anya started to laugh.

“I suppose when you lay it out like that it makes sense. It doesn’t get me any closer to the sword though,” she said, the smile dying on her lips.

“No, it doesn’t, but you have to have hope my little
shalosť
.” He brushed her cheek lightly before withdrawing his hand. “All the best stories end with evil being defeated, the hero and the magic sword triumphant.”

“What about the damsel?”

“She will live.”

“You think so? I wonder.”

“She
will
live.”

“In the stories, doesn’t she always end up marrying the prince?” Anya teased to lighten the mood but his eyes glazed over instantly. “I was only joking, Yvan! You look like someone stuck a knife in you.”

“The damsel would have to be very, very lucky to marry the prince,” he said calmly.

“She would be, considering how damaged the damsel will be,” Anya said as she stared at the canopy above her, “and she actually has to live first. There can be no thoughts of any kind of marriage before that is done. Death can really spoil plans that way.”

“Death has spoiled my plans once already, he wouldn’t dare do it again,” Yvan growled before letting the silence lapse.

“Yvan?”

“Anya.”

“I’m really sorry if what happened with the
Groenn Skaer
hurt you…in any way. I
am
sorry.” Long warm fingers laced with hers but he didn’t move to look at her.

“You need to apologise to yourself, Anya, not to me. You gave up on yourself. I understand what it’s like to have your life ripped apart, to see the person you love die horribly. But you cannot lie down and die, because the enemy will win.”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Please tell me you’re not pregnant.”

“No, I’m not pregnant!”

“Then why do you sound so worried?”

“Because I don’t understand it! I found seeds in the bathtub when I cleaned it out of Trajan’s things.”

“They could’ve been in your hair or clothes.”

“No, they weren’t. They are red and…warm.”

“Have you told Aramis?”

“I wanted to tell you first.”

“Why? He’s your guardian.”

“But I love and I trust you above everyone,” Anya said. “You were with me in the beginning and I know that when I’m covered in mud and blood, you will be with me in the end. You’re the only person I can say that to with any kind of certainty.” He looked across at her, his blue eyes melting to a smouldering red.

“Don’t cry little one.” His voice, half Yvan, half firebird, made the hairs on her body rise. He reached over and touched her wet cheeks. “Your faith in us is humbling.”

“Gods know you have earned it even if I haven’t earned you.”


I know the Álfr is important to you, Anya, but Yvan’s devotion to you will always be unshakable,
” the firebird said. Yvan shuddered all over before the firebird receded, taking up its old place on his chest.

“Sorry about that. What did he say?” Yvan rubbed his forehead irritably.

“Nothing I shouldn’t already know. I should let you go back to sleep.”

“Harley said something about a Mardi Gras today. Would you like to go?”

“I barely got to see the city last time…of course, I want to go!” Anya shoved her pillow at him as she got up and hurried to get ready, her heart the lightest it had been in weeks.

***

There were drums thrumming so loud and so deep that Aleksandra felt their rhythm in the pit of her stomach. She’d lost Anya and Yvan in the dense drunk crowd but Mychal was still following her as she wove her way through. Somewhere along the way, a stranger had put plastic beads over her head and confetti was stuck to her hair and clothes.

She was laughing as little children threw feathers and sweets from a float, when a wave of nausea came over her. Aleksandra swayed and tried to spot Mychal. The crowd pressed in behind her, pushing her forward in the crush of bodies.

Aleksandra looked behind her and spotted someone watching her. A short man with dark skin was staring at her, the partygoers moving past him as if he had an invisible force field. His black eyes stared at her. Then his face started to change. His jaw hung slack, revealing long sharp black teeth. His nose and cheeks were rotting away, and his eyes were yellow and filled with hate. Aleksandra tried not to scream as he started to move towards her.

“Get out of the way!” she shouted and began pushing people away from her. She was knocked sideways and she only managed to stop herself from falling. The rotting man was searching for her, his yellow eyes burning a hole into her back. Aleksandra shoved her way out of the crush and started to run. She dodged her way past the people and stumbled into a side street before something hit her from behind and she fell to the ground.

“You can see me,” a voice hissed in her ear, foul hot breath burning her cheek. Aleksandra brought her elbow up hard, hitting it in the face. She scrambled to her feet and grabbed a broken brick that was holding down the lid of a trashcan.

“Stay away from me,” she warned. The rotting man spat black blood from his mouth.

“You pathetic mortal cannot hurt…” the creature’s threats cut short as a blade was shoved through his throat. It gurgled once before collapsing to the ground in a pile of rotting flesh. Mychal stood still, the silver spear extended. He flicked it once and it shrank down to its normal size.

“Did it hurt you?” he asked, looking at her for the first time. Aleksandra dropped the brick and ran to him. He held her tightly.

“No, I saw him. I saw his face…his
real
face!”

“Damn it,” Mychal muttered, “I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The demon marks can make you see them, but it makes them see
you
as well.”

“We need to find Anya and Yvan,” Aleksandra said as she swallowed her fear. Clouds above them grew dark and Aleksandra shuddered.

“What is it?” Mychal asked, his hand resting on her back to steady her.

“Magic…”she whispered as her lungs tightened. “This storm is not natural. We need to find Anya
now
!”

 

Anya shivered as she watched storm clouds roll over the city. She drank some of the beer she had been sharing with Yvan and went back to watching the parade. A sharp flick of magic whipped up the side of her face and she stumbled, Yvan catching the glass bottle as it slipped from her fingers.

“Anya, what’s happening?” Yvan looked around erratically. “The firebird is screeching.”

“I don’t know. There was…” Anya looked up and spotted a woman across the other side of the street. She was watching Anya, her eyes shining. “That woman, Yvan. She was in front of the shop last night.” The woman moved aside and someone appeared behind her. Anya felt the air leave her body as a head of silvery hair came into view. Yvan’s hand on her arm tightened. Yanka stood in a pale green dress and waved at them.

“It can’t be her…” Yvan was saying, but Anya wasn’t listening. Yanka pointed to a boy standing out of Anya’s reach. Yanka started to flick her fingers and the child’s arms jerked erratically and started to move out onto the road. The engine of the next float revved loudly as Yanka beckoned it with her hand.

BOOK: Rise of the Firebird
6.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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