The Last Phoenix (17 page)

M
ichael stared helplessly as his sister pressed her tongue to the glass pipette and squeezed the rubber tip. He was almost grateful when Milton, crowing with laughter, swept in front of him and blocked his view.

“And so the thousand-year prophecy is complete,” the old man cried. “At last, the ritual can begin—and my long life's work will be fulfilled.”

“Evil such as yours shall never prosper!” cried Skribble fiercely.

“Enough, worm,” Milton commanded. “You are my slave. Summon the symbols of power for the ritual as I have revealed them to you.”

“As you will it, so shall it be,” Skribble muttered. Michael noticed him hop from his little cloud onto the torn material of Milly's rain jacket. He raised his small, segmented body up into the air and started to wail and wriggle.
“Nemedi omnes, astram incarnate…”

A shiver ran through Michael as mysterious squiggles
in blackest ink appeared over the white tiled floor of the octagonal room, their patterns uniting in two interlocking circles. Milton tenderly reached out both arms to the statue of his bride Ayeshaka and closed one fist about a golden feather in his hand. The air seemed to shimmer as the statue reappeared beside him in the dead center of one of the circles. Milton lifted the phoenix nest from the workbench and placed it reverently at the feet of his beloved. The large, heavy egg inside seemed almost aglow with golden light.

Skribble stopped chanting, but continued to wriggle on top of the raincoat.

“Now, children,” said Milton. “You must take your places for the ceremony.”

“Get stuffed,” Michael retorted.

“Perhaps it is the phoenix I shall stuff.” He smiled. “After all, a feeble bird, manacled to the table, can put up so little resistance…”

The skies were darkening through the eight windows. The black markings began to glow.

Milton turned to Michael, Jason, and Jess. “Stand in the second circle,” he commanded. “Place your hands against the stone flesh of Ayeshaka. Your humanity will soften her heart so that the magical essences of the egg may touch the core of her being…”

Michael and Jess each took a hold of one of the statue's hands. Jason and Milly were directed by Milton to press their hands against the statue's feet. Filled with fear and sorrow, Michael looked at his sister's head. He hated being so powerless, hated that she'd taken the dewdrop…

Milton lowered the phoenix egg back into the nest. He rubbed the silphium leaves against the gleaming shell, daubed a single, strange symbol there in ash and pressed his fingers against the threads of gold that bound the twigs together.

Suddenly Fenella burst into noisy sobs, and Skribble joined in. He hopped off the jacket and clung to her manacled leg.

“Be silent, fools!” Milton rasped, his eyes shining. “The great moment is finally upon us…”

Dark storm clouds had rolled across the evening sky, reducing the sun to a red, warning glow. Michael could feel something like static in the air, prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. Kneeling between the nest and his stony queen, Milton began to chant secret words under his breath. Within seconds, curls of strangely scented smoke began to rise up from the phoenix egg, and the statue became suffused with light.

To Michael's horror, he saw the cold, white stone beneath his fingers start to soften, turning clay-gray and clammy…

Jason cringed. “Her feet just twitched!”

“Something's wrong,” hissed Milton. “She should have returned to flesh and blood at once. What is happening?” He stared up at the pale, glowing figure in rapture. “Come back to me, my queen! My old heart is yours. The strength and purity of youth is yours. The powers of magical rebirth are yours—”

“And so are my claws, you old bag!”
yelled Fenella, launching herself into the air. Her talons raked at the glowing statue's face and neck, showering Milly, Jason, and Milton with crumbling chunks of stone. Milton screamed with anger—and Milly elbowed him in the ribs as hard as she could. He lost his balance and fell out of the circle.

“Let go of the statue, children!” cried Skribble.

Michael jumped away but Jess couldn't move. “This thing's holding on to me!” she shrieked. “She's got my fingers!”

Fenella flapped down and brought her sharp beak down hard on the statue's wrist. The stony fingers flexed and spasmed. Jess yanked her hand free and leaped out of the circle.

“No!” shouted Milton, on his knees.

“
Yes,
prune features!” Michael yelled, grabbing Milly's old raincoat from the table and hurling it into Milton's face. As he did so, Fenella swooped down on top of the evil magician and knocked him sprawling.

“The egg,” Jess muttered, looking at the smoking nest still in the magic circle. She tried to drag it clear. “Michael, help me!” she shouted.

Michael knelt beside her and together they tugged on the hot, sharp sticks with all their strength. The nest began to move. “Jase, Milly, come on!”

Milly and Jason yanked at the heavy nest too. Even Skribble whooshed down on his little cloud and added his strength to the struggle. “It's moving,” Michael shouted. “Just a little more…”

“Scatter, lovies!” yelled Fenella, leaving Milton and aiming straight for the spiky bundle. Jess, Michael, and the others scrambled back as she hurled herself against the side of the nest. In an explosion of twigs, the nest and the glowing egg inside it were pushed clear of the darkly shining symbols.

Milton screamed in horror as the glow about the statue began to fade, as the gray skin faded into chalk-white once more. “It cannot be!” he croaked. “I cannot lose now after so long!”

“I reckon you just have!” Michael shouted back.

“Ayeshaka!” Milton wailed, his hat askew, fiercely embracing the statue, tears pouring from his eyes as he stared up at her ruined face. “Sweet Ayeshaka, it was my wish—my only wish—to stand by your side forever!”

“
Your wish is granted!
” cried Skribble in triumph.

There was a flash of white light that made Michael shield his eyes. And when he looked again, there was no longer one statue standing in the circle of fading symbols, but two. Milton himself was turned to stone, arms clamped tight around his beloved, gazing up at her with sightless marble eyes.

Skribble nodded to himself and let out a great sigh of relief. “Now, you shall most certainly stand by her side,” he murmured. “Forever.”

For a few moments, everyone stared in a dulled, dazed silence. Then Michael looked down at the nest and gasped. “Fenella!” The bird's pale body lay sprawled on the floor.

Jess and Milly scooped up the phoenix and placed her gently on the tabletop beside the discarded chain and manacle. The bird's eyes were closed and she was barely breathing.

“She looked so weak even
before
she started throwing herself about,” said Jason.

“Her egg was at risk, and we all were in danger,” said Skribble gravely. “So, with the last of her strength…”

“No, not the last.” Michael shook his head. “It can't be the last!” He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. “How did she get free, anyway?”

“The sheared-through zip on Milly's anorak,” said
Skribble impatiently. “I noticed it gleam in the sunlight, and realized I could use its tip to pick the lock on Fenella's manacles.”

“It was George, Fenella!” Milly whispered to the prone phoenix. “You've got to wake up, because his smile really did bring us luck, just as you said.” She couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and heavy drops splashed down onto the phoenix's mottled breast. “You've just
got
to wake up.”

“The egg,” Jess said, pointing down at the damaged nest. “Fenella, your egg…”

Michael took an involuntary step away. The large egg was pulsing bloodred, agleam and alive with unknowable energy. The sooty symbol daubed on its side burned off in colorless flames.

Fenella's eyes flickered open. “My…egg?”

“Yes!” Michael felt overwhelmed by relief. “You can't give up now, your egg needs you!”

“No good now, pet,” the bird whispered. “Egg's ruined…by that old windbag's ritual…”

“But it
isn't
ruined,” Milly insisted. “The ritual would never have worked properly—thanks to Jason!”

Jason smiled bashfully.

Michael frowned. “What are you on about?”

“I never drank that dewdrop!” Milly told him.

“But we saw you,” said Jess.

“No. Like Mr. Milton, you only
thought
you did!” Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out another pipette in a small glass tube—this one with a yellow stopper. “I took two of these with me to Mount Quamquangle, so if I messed up the first time, I still had another chance.”

Milly nodded happily. “When there was no water inside at all, I realized what Jase must have done…”

“But luckily Milton didn't!” Jess added, hugging her brother.

“Neither did I.” Michael wiped his brow. “Must be why his old missus didn't come straight back to life as planned—he was one magic ingredient short!”

Fenella propped herself up on one wing. “Then…I might still have a chance?”

“There's always hope,” said Skribble. “Though today we live in shadow, tomorrow we may find the sun.”

“The sun.” Fenella cooed, a faint smile on her beak. “Oh, I can feel its rays on my skin…ooooh, that's nice…oooooooh, it tickles…”

“There's no sun now, Fenella.” Michael bit his lip. “She's gone funny.”

“No!” Skribble backed away. “She's getting hotter.”

“She's starting to smoke!” Milly gasped. “Fenella? Are you okay?”

Fenella struggled up with a brave smile. “It's my time, lovie.” She winced. “The time…of my new becoming.”

Jess pointed in alarm. “And your egg is going crazy, Fenella!” It looked more like a giant ruby now, flaming with power.

“We've got to get her to the nest!” Michael said anxiously.

“I can make it.” Fenella was panting for breath. “I can make it, but…I don't know if I can hatch an egg. It's never been done before, and look at me, I'm a mess.”

“No. Never.” Milly blew a kiss down at her. “You're fantastic.”

“We all think so,” said Jess quietly. Jason nodded, and even Skribble inclined his head.

“I don't do mush,” said Michael firmly, as he crouched beside the rumpled bird. “But, look, Fenella…” He looked into her dim blue eyes. “If anyone can do this, you can.”

“We believe in you,” said Milly fervently.

“Then, I suppose it's time I believed in
myself
!” Fenella smiled up at them. “Be seeing you, lovies.” She closed her eyes tightly, and rolled off the stone slab she lay on. She fell briefly through the air and landed on top of the egg.

The second she touched it, Fenella burst into flames.

“Fenella!” Milly screamed.

Skribble zoomed about on his little cloud. “Back,
children!” he shouted, as both egg and phoenix were lost in a fierce crimson blaze.

Michael shook his head. “But we can't leave her.”

“We must!” said Skribble firmly.

Jason coughed on the smoke. “Quick, let's get out through one of these windows!” He pushed past the embracing statues, jumped clumsily up onto the workbench and tugged at the window handles. “I can't do it,” he cried. “The silphium must have worn off!”

“Get out of the way, then.” Michael climbed onto the workbench beside him, forced open one of the windows, and then he and the others scrambled through. Thick broiling clouds of smoke chased them outside, all the way to the statue of the gryphons. They sheltered behind it, watching as the smoke-plumes rose up over the roof of the octagonal chamber and faded to nothing.

Michael looked at Jess. “Any words of phoenix wisdom to give us comfort, then?”

“No,” Jess said, staring into space. “Her voice has gone.”

They waited tensely, the children huddled together, the bookworm bobbing about on his cloud. Daylight ebbed away into the deep indigo of a summer evening. And at last, the smoke from inside Milton's building died away to nothing.

“Fenella?” called Jess uncertainly.

Gesturing that the others should keep back, Michael crossed to the little building. There were no choking fumes, no sign of damage at all. The statues of Milton and Ayeshaka still loomed silently inside, like memories of evil.

But where Fenella's nest had been, there lay only a pile of charred sticks covered with ash and the egg, unhatched and blackened. Nothing more.

Michael turned back to the others, numb and uncomprehending, and his voice when it came was the smallest thing in the world.

“Fenella didn't make it,” he said.

Jess, Jason, and Milly joined him, staring at the burned nest.

“It was all for nothing,” Jess whispered. “The egg didn't hatch. Fenella's gone.”

Milly went over to the egg and warily touched it. “It's cold. Like stone.” She looked at Skribble who was floating beside Jason, a confused look on his face. “What happened?”

For once Skribble didn't try to bluster. “I…I don't know.” He floated over and looked down at the egg. Milly saw him swallow before he spoke softly. “But it appears that the world is now a world without a phoenix. And a much grayer place it will be as a result.”

Tears sprang to Milly's eyes as she shook her head
helplessly. “Fenella can't have gone!”

Jess put her arm around her. “Oh, Milly.”

Milly turned into her and sobbed. She felt Michael come over and squeeze her shoulder.

“It's not fair!” Jason burst out angrily.

Michael nodded. “Life isn't fair, mate.”