Rise of the Firebird (46 page)

“She can stop Baba Yaga, the Illumination, Yanka, and the Darkness…the whole lot.”

“You don’t think it’s an elaborate ploy and she’s working with Yanka? Blood is a strong tie.”

“Not strong enough,” Harley muttered. “Those bitches have robbed Anya of everything. She has enough power to put a stop to this war that’s breaking out everywhere. We’ve seen what she can do, so yeah, believing in her isn’t too fucking difficult.”

“I meant no offence, Miss Barthélémy. I had to ask the question. Is it true that Yvan Tsaravech has been reborn and that he is travelling with Anya?” Lovelace locked her eyes on Isabelle, prompting her to answer.

“Yes, he is. Her magic woke him. The ones that travel with her are all gifted. They are all powerful and they trust her. Who told you about Yvan?”

“The world knows, Isabelle. Dark ones talk of it, the Illumination complain and the Neutrals are curious. They’re looking for this girl with enough power to be a strong enough contender to take on the two greatest Powers the worlds have ever seen, and bring them to their knees.”

“If she gets them to their knees she’ll take their heads.”

“Yes, we heard about Veruschka, messy business that. Deserved though. Someone should have declawed that kitten a century ago.” Cerise’s Porsche pulled up and she got out in a button up scarlet satin shirt, black jeans and high heels. She strode in, smiling casually.

“Keres…” hissed Lovelace and her sword was drawn.

“Stop!” Isabelle shouted, but Lovelace was already attacking.

“What the hell?” Cerise demanded as she dodged the end of Lovelace’s blade.

“Lovelace, stop! She is a…friend,” Isabelle stilled as the sword plunged into Cerise’s chest. A hair-raising screech came from the
keres
as she hit her assailant, sending her flying backwards and crumpled on the concrete floor.

“Put a leash on that bitch, Isabelle, otherwise, I’m going to tear her fucking head off,” Cerise growled in a voice that was barely her own. She gripped the blade of the sword and pulled it out, flinging it aside with a metallic clang. Fox rushed to her with clean rags to stop the grey black liquid bleeding from her.

“Don’t bother, it’s already healing.” Cerise waved her away before unbuttoning her shirt. “This was a brand new top too,” she muttered as she dumped it into the bin with the brujo head. Lovelace groaned from where she had landed. With an impatient sigh, Cerise snatched the rag from Fox’s hand and strode over to Lovelace.

“Stay still and give me none of your attitude, you stupid woman,” Cerise snapped as she dabbed at the wound on Lovelace’s hairline. The hunter stilled with shock at getting first aid from a
keres
dressed in Victoria Secret lingerie. “I’m not going to be drinking your blood today, hunter, although, I would be if you weren’t wearing such a fabulous outfit. Smart tailoring saved your life.”

“As I tried to tell you,” Isabelle said as she stood over them, “this is Cerise, she is our friend and nurse. She’s also a keres and none of us will tolerate racism, sexism, or speciesism here. Understand?”

“I apologise. The last
keres
I met was not as polite,” Lovelace lifted up a corner of her waistcoat and shirt to reveal fresh scars.

“Did you try to kill her without provocation as well?” Cerise asked.

“Not at all. She was one of the Darkness and she was killing hunters in London. She got through five before I stopped her.”

“Sounds like she was a bitch and had it coming,” replied Cerise with no remorse for the fate of another of her kind. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Only my pride, dear lady,” admitted Lovelace. “I beg your pardon and forgiveness.”

“You have it,” said Cerise. “If I had a penny for every time someone tried to kill me, I wouldn’t be so upset about my ruined top.”

“Will you help me stand?” Lovelace asked with a charming smile. Isabelle shook her head at Lovelace’s audacity to first try to kill Cerise and then flirt with her. Cerise helped Lovelace back to her seat on the old recliner.

“Harley, I’m going to need to borrow a shirt,” Cerise said and Harley hurried away.

“Is this Barthélémy what the city needs?” Lovelace asked quietly as she watched her go.

“She loves this city and wants to protect its people,” Isabelle replied.

“I don’t think you need to concern yourself with not having enough allies, Isabelle. The ones that can come are coming, the rest are keeping Europe stable as much as is in their power.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Cerise asked suspiciously. Lovelace reached into her breast pocket and tossed a scrap of cloth at Isabelle. She unfolded the red fabric to reveal a yellow and black firebird painted on it.

“Holy fuck,” muttered Cerise.

“Indeed, welcome to the resistance ladies,” Lovelace sighed.

Wind roared around Anya as she fell through the aurora and into Pohjola. The air was cold and she gasped at the sudden change. She stumbled out of the way, as Yvan appeared behind her.

“You are going to kill me one day with your recklessness,” he said. Anya tried to laugh but the landscape around her seemed to suck it out of the air. The forest was similar to the one that they had left, birch, oak, fir and pine, but the vibrancy of colour had disappeared as if the brightness had been sapped out of it.

“What a drag of a place,” Katya commented as she looked around. The sky above them was over cast and looked like at any moment it was going to dump water or snow onto them.

“Just as thrilling as I remember,” Eldon commented. “We should move. This is Louhi’s realm and she’ll already know we are here.”

“Aramis? What is it?” Anya asked. Their connection fluttered and she came to stand next to him.

“I’m fine, only a little nauseous. It will pass quickly,” he assured.

“This place feels sad,” Mychal muttered. “I’m with Eldon, we must get moving.” The flapping of wings had him reaching for his spear in the blink of an eye. A screech, like that of an eagle, echoed through the air above them.

“I don’t think that’s a bird,” Anya said as the creature circled high above them. It was black, a flash of red on the underside of the body.

“It isn’t a bird. It’s a shifter servant of Louhi’s. I told you she would know as soon as we came through.”

“They feel wrong. Not like demons, but close,” Mychal watched it circle and slowly moved to place Aleksandra behind him.

They followed the road, keeping under the cover of the trees but the shifter didn’t seem inclined to swoop, only to watch their progress. Aramis stayed close to Anya, the nausea less when they were together. One day they would have a chance to explore the implications of their bond, but for the time being, Anya had shelved it in her mind.

“Why don’t they do something?” Izrayl said as they screeched again.

“They’re there for intimidation,” Eldon Blaise replied, “and are acting as Louhi’s eyes. If she thought that we were a malicious presence, she would have sent something more impressive.”

“Like
hiiisi
?” Anya whispered.

“Yes, exactly like…damn it,” Eldon cursed. Standing in front of them, almost completely blended in the rocks were three
hiiisi
trolls
.
“Good afternoon! We are here to seek an audience with the Mistress of Northland.”

Anya stood still in fear and shock. Eikki had threatened her when she was a child that a
hiiisi
would come and eat her if she didn’t do her chores. Her imagination had never thought of what stood before her. They were humanoid but made of rock and ice with eyes that were black with a white pupil. They carried black spears tipped with flint blades and bound with strips of leather.

“You follow,” the tallest one demanded, a voice like rocks smashing together underwater.

“Of course,” Eldon Blaise’s charming smile was lost on them as they shuffled off down the path. The leader waited to walk behind the group and they herded them closer together. A growl reverberated through Izrayl, but Katya thumped him in the chest, bringing it up short.

“They are guards, not threats,” Aramis said.

“Exactly! And while they are with us, nothing else will be attempt to attack. This is a good thing,” Eldon said.

“You’re a shit liar,” Anya whispered.

“I’m an
excellent
liar. She wants to talk to you, Anya. Otherwise, we’d be dead right now. Louhi doesn’t get visitors often and if she likes you, she can be quite the hostess. She brews extraordinary beer.”

“Is that why you were drunk enough to bed her?” Izrayl teased.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you we’ve never shared a bed. She’s angry at me for other reasons.”

“Sure.”

“Easy,
shalosť
, I don’t think they are here to hurt us,” Yvan said as Anya gripped onto his arm.

“You weren’t the one traumatised by
hiiisi
when you were a child. Eikki loved to bring them up and Grýla at bedtime. She was Icelandic and he still threatened she would steal me away and cook me up if I didn’t go to sleep.”

“I wonder if her and Baba Yaga exchange recipes,” said Katya.

“That’s not funny, Yakaterina,” Aleksandra reprimanded.

“It’s kind of funny,” Izrayl murmured as he and Katya grinned at each other.

“I’m glad you two can joke about it. You haven’t seen her house made of the bones of her victims,” Anya screwed her face up at the memory.

“Hey, Katya, it’s a bone shack,” Izrayl snorted with laughter.

The
hiiisi
trolls pulled out glowing stones as darkness fell. They gave off an eerie half-light that only succeeded in creating more shadows. Anya had been nervous in Tuonela but Pohjola set her nerves on edge. She wanted a fire to warm up to, something bright.

Do not worry, Anya
, the firebird brushed her mind unexpectedly.
We won’t let the darkness take you. If Louhi tries to betray us, I will burn her like the last time she crossed me
.

You were the one that helped Väinämöinen and Ilmarinen?

Of course. How do you think I met Tapio?

“It would be wise not to mention the firebird to Louhi,” Eldon said softly behind her. Anya turned her head sharply to stare at him but his eyes were calm and golden, showing no signs that he had been eavesdropping on their telepathic conversation.

“Oh, Anya, I’m not
that
good,” he smiled, “but I know it would be something that you are thinking about.”

“But…” Anya wanted to point out she hadn’t said anything. So he
could
hear them after all.

“Great.”

Eldon simply smiled at her charmingly, “Look at that, Anya, lights ahead. We must be getting close.”

Pohjola was positioned on a high ridge where Louhi could look down on the valley and the forest below. Much like her father’s, the great hall of Pohjola was built from timber and painted black. Torches had been lit to mark their way to the hall where more
hiiisi
stood on guard. The flying shifter sat on a large wrought iron perch.

“She reminds me of the
gamayun
from Skazki,” Yvan whispered. She had long black feathery wings instead of arms, her toes curling out into long black claws and everywhere small black feathers sprouted from her skin. Her stomach and small high breasts were covered in a soft red down, her glossy black and red hair falling in curling waves. She watched them coolly until her golden eyes rested on Yvan. A spark of interest went through her gaze and her feathers preened slightly.

“Don’t, Anya,” Aramis whispered and gripped the back of her coat.

“She looks like one of the crow slaves Völunder was making,” Katya shuddered.

“Move,” the
hiiisi
guard commanded, waving his spear at them until they were inside the hall. It closed the heavy doors behind them with a slam of finality. Torches hung in iron sconces along the walls and pillars, the fire pit in the centre of the hall reduced to a fading glow.

“Who dares enter my lands at so late an hour without an invitation?” Louhi sat on a great black throne piled high with arctic fox furs.

The form Louhi wore was that of a sensually curved woman in her late thirties. She wore a simple low cut dress made of finely woven wool of white, pale blue and lilac. An elaborately pressed black leather corset held her waist in a bold contrast. Around her pale neck hung a magnificent silver necklace set with amethysts and onyx. Her long silvery white hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid, her lilac eyes stared down at them waiting for an answer.

Anya swallowed. She had expected a hag. Louhi was frighteningly beautiful even if it was a glamour.

“I’m Anyanka and I was sent by your father, Tuoni,” she stepped forward, feeling much diminished under the Mistress of Northland’s overwhelming stare.

“Anyanka,” Louhi sneered. “So you are Ruski bitch that has spurned the Lord of the Dead. Tuoni’s mind must be going as soft as his manhood to think a weak, scared little child like you could be a suitable consort.”

“I did not spurn Tuoni. I refused to be a bargaining chip in Baba Yaga’s game. Any pain or disappointment Tuoni is feeling is of his own making, not mine.”

“You threatened him.”

“Only after he threatened me.” Anya felt Louhi’s power running over her skin like pin pricks, searching out shields and defences.

“What is it about you that begs for death, Anyanka? You attracted Tuoni and you chose a Thanatos as a lover. But a slave wouldn’t say no to its mistress, would he? Oh? You didn’t consider that? Why you must be as terrible at being a Shamanitsa as they all say if you haven’t figured that out. Ilya indebted that creature to his family and it made sure it serviced all of its masters in any way that it needed. It’s terribly hard to find such a good slave, what a shame Yanka killed him. I could’ve used one like that.”

“What is your point?” Anya asked through clenched teeth. She would not give Louhi the satisfaction of crying in front of her.

“You aren’t even going to deny it? You’re so terribly dull, child. What is it that you seek that my father would offer my help and hospitality? That you would risk your companions lives to…Eldon Blaise!” Louhi choked as he moved out from behind Izrayl. “How…dare-”