The Last Phoenix (8 page)

“What difference does that make?” asked Jason. “What are we doing here—and why did you tell Mum and Mark
that you were taking me to see a film? Jess and Milly are completely suspicious. They
know
you never normally take me out with your mates.”

“Sorry, Jase—afraid it's just not cool to let little brothers or stepbrothers tag along.” Michael smiled craftily. “But cheer up, I
will
be spending the whole evening with you tonight. Because you're going to mug me.”

Jason stared. “I'm
what
?”

“It's the obvious solution,” said Michael. “I turn up at the pictures all roughed up with my pockets torn, and tell the lads someone nicked all my money. That way they won't expect me to treat them all another time.”

“But then Rick will treat them all instead.” Jason scratched his head. “That's what made you say you'd treat everyone in the first place!”

“Yeah, but at least the lads will know I made the bigger offer and he's being forced to match it,” said Michael. He set off down a quiet close leading off from the main street. “Come on, this looks like a good enough place.”

Jason reluctantly followed. “I still don't get why you need me along.”

“I don't want to spend a Saturday night waiting around all by myself, do I?” Michael patted his rucksack. “Anyway, I need you to wait back here with my spare clothes. Obviously I can't go back looking like I've been mugged—Dad and Ann would freak and call the police or something. So
I just pop down, do my acting bit, tell them I'm all shaken up and that I hope they have a good time without me, and push off back here. Then you and me kill time till it's time to go home, and we tell Dad and Ann that we've been to the film.”

“That's a lot of lying,” said Jason doubtfully.

Michael knew Jason was right but forced himself not to dwell on it. He scowled—and suddenly threw himself into a flowerbed.

Jason stared. “Michael, are you okay?”

“I'm just roughing myself up a bit,” Michael told him. “Come on, try and rip the back of my shirt.”

“But that'll ruin it!” protested Jason.

“Stop being such a girl!” Michael was rubbing mud on his face and into his hair.

Sighing, Jason grabbed a handful of Michael's shirt and tugged on it with all his strength. The fabric stretched but wouldn't tear.

“Come on, put some effort in!” Michael strained to pull away from him to make Jason's task easier but only managed to overbalance them both. Jason fell on top of Michael, pushing his head into a rosebush.

“Sorry!” said Jason. “Oh no, the thorns have scratched you.”

“Have they?” Michael grinned. “Cool! That'll be even
more realistic.” He set about the front pocket of his muddy jeans, trying to tear the tough denim. “Give us a hand here…”

After a few minutes wrestling with stitches and handfuls of mud, Michael deemed himself ready for his star role. With a cheery wave, he left his stepbrother with his backpack and jogged off toward the multiplex to make his dramatic entrance. He turned into the parking lot, ignoring the curious looks from the people he pushed past. Aha—there were his mates, laughing at something Rick the Slick was saying. He quickened his pace, tried to get himself into the right mood of desperate horror.
It can't be true! But it is! All my money's been
—

“Stolen!” he gasped, staggering up to Thomas, Josh, and Sam. “My cash—all nicked!”

His mates spun around and stared at him, uncomprehendingly. For a long, horrible moment, Michael was certain they knew he was lying. But then Rick of all people put an arm around his shoulders. “Easy, mate,” he said, looking genuinely worried. “Come on, lean on me. What happened?”

“This big guy,” Michael gasped, pulling carefully free of Rick's grip. “Came up behind me and knocked me to the ground. Look at the state of me…”

Now his mates started forward, their faces full of
concern. Michael felt a twinge of guilt for tricking them like this. But it was too late to back out now.

“Don't crowd him, guys, give him some room,” ordered Rick. “Come on, Michael, we've got to get you down to the police station. Maybe the hospital. Forget the film. I'll ring for my dad to get us.”

“Er, no!” said Michael in alarm. “It…It's not worth bothering anyone.”

“What are you on about?” said Josh. “If some nutter's running about—”

“Yeah, but he's gone now, with all my cash.” Michael shrugged. “We'll never find him.”

“Hello, Michael!” Michael turned to find a woman in her fifties with long gray hair and large glasses walking toward him. He cursed—it was Dad's friend Ginny from the store. “I saw you playing with your little brother as I drove past just now—just look at the state of you!”

Josh frowned. “You were with Jason? Well, where is he?”

“Um…” Michael felt his heart plummet into his stomach—the impact turning his face bright red. “No, I wasn't with—”

“I saw him jump on you, pulling your shirt.” Ginny smiled and shook her head. “Little monkey! No wonder you look such a state. Well, enjoy your film, boys. Cheerio!”

“He wasn't…I mean, he…” Michael looked at his
puzzled mates. “That is, I…”

Rick spoke slowly. “You were mugged by your little brother?”

“No!” Michael squeaked. “No, she got it all wrong!”

Thomas started to grin. “Mate, that's shameful.”

“I was just teaching him how to fight,” Michael protested, “when suddenly—”

“Why would you be teaching him to fight out in Quilborough when you'd come to see a film with us?” Sam grinned. “He followed you out here, didn't he? He jumped you!”

“Ginny can't see straight,” said Michael angrily. “Jason could
never
get me.”

Thomas pointed across the car park. “Then how come you're a total muddy mess and your little stepbro's over there without a mark on him?”

Michael whirled around. Sure enough, there was Jason, peering out from behind a sign near the parking lot entrance, watching him like a particularly useless spy.

“He—he's changed his clothes!” said Michael, aware how pitiful the lies sounded. “Yeah, look, he must have brought some in that rucksack.”

“That's
your
rucksack!” Josh burst out laughing. “Mate, he nicked your bag too, didn't he?”

Michael cringed. “No!”

“That is priceless.” Sam guffawed.

“No wonder you didn't want to tell the cops,” Rick added, high-fiving Thomas and Josh.

Michael couldn't take it anymore. He turned and marched away, cheeks on fire, his friends' laughter ringing in his ears.

“Oh, come on, Michael, don't be like that,” Thomas called. “We'll protect you from big bad Jase—and any little old ladies passing by…”

“This is a nightmare.” Michael zeroed in on Jason and grabbed him roughly by the arm, dragging him away. “What are you doing here?” he said furiously. “They saw you! You've ruined everything.”

“Sorry, Michael, but there was this strange guy in a raincoat watching me from down the street,” said Jason worriedly. “He gave me the creeps.”

“I'm gonna give you a lot more than that!” Michael snatched the rucksack from him. “We're getting the bus back home right now. I'll tell Dad the film was full up. But what am I going to say when it starts going around the school that
you
beat me up?” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Next time we take a phoenix trip somewhere, I'm not coming back!”

T
he next morning, Michael was woken up by the duvet being yanked off him. “What's going on?” he moaned. “That's exactly what we want to ask you!” Jess said tartly.

Blinking his eyes open, Michael saw Jess and Milly standing next to his bed. Milly had her hands on her hips. Jess was holding his duvet out of his reach.

“What happened last night, Michael?” Milly demanded. “Jason won't tell us. What were you up to?”

When he and Jason had got in the night before, Michael had mumbled about the film being full and stomped straight up to his room. He hadn't come out since. Jason had got ready for bed, refusing to say what had happened, but Milly could tell he was upset.

“I just thought Jase could do with a night out,” Michael attempted feebly.

The girls' eyebrows shot up into their hair in disbelief.

“Oh, all right,” Michael mumbled. He shut his eyes as
the memories of the night before swept over him, and grudgingly he explained what had happened. His face blazed red as he relived the moments, remembered the looks on his mates' faces, Jason standing there, the laughter…

“Michael, you…you…idiot!” Milly shook her head, a small grin catching at the sides of her mouth.

“Don't you dare laugh,” he snarled, snatching the duvet back from Jess.

“I can't believe Ginny saw you!” Jess cringed. “And she told all your mates. Oh, Michael, you loser!”

He glared at her. “Thanks for the support!”

“It's Jason I feel sorry for,” said Milly. “You tried to use him.”

“He wanted to come with me!” Michael hid back under the duvet. “Lousy, no-good gold!”

“Lousy, no-good Michael, you mean!” Milly softened her voice. “Anyway, look. Jess and I talked about stuff last night, and we think we should get down to the workshop at eleven.”

Jess nodded. “I've really got to do some history essays this morning. Though how I'm going to concentrate knowing we'll be going to—”

“Old Cairo!” Milly's eyes gleamed with excitement. “I can't wait! I'm going to go to the village hall this morning to try and borrow some costumes from my drama group
so we fit in a bit. I think they've got some Egyptian ones that might do.”

“Better than wearing jeans and T-shirts,” Jess agreed.

“If you find a disguise for me, let me know.” Michael poked his head out of the duvet and looked at Jess. “Can you just imagine what it's going to be like at school tomorrow? My life isn't going to be worth living.”

“True!” Jess grinned unsympathetically. “Perhaps you should just hole up in Cairo for the rest of your life!”

Michael retreated back under the duvet with a sigh. Right now, he felt the idea had a lot going for it.

 

A little while later, Milly set off to the village hall with Jason, who'd offered to come with her. She knew that Maureen and Ruby, the two ladies who were in charge of costumes, were going to be at the hall that day discussing designs for
Annie
.

She glanced at Jason as they hurried along, hoods pulled up against the drizzling rain. He hadn't said much since they had left the house, so she decided to air what was on
her
mind. “I can't believe Michael tried to get you to mug him yesterday. What was he thinking?”

“I dunno, but I was rubbish,” Jason said sadly. “I didn't know what to do, and then all his mates saw me. Michael's going to hate me forever now.”

“Well, he shouldn't,” Milly said, looking indignant. “He should never have said he'd buy all his friends tickets and everything in the first place, and then he should have just told them the truth.” She squeezed Jason's arm. “It's not your fault, Jase.”

Jason looked at her gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Anyway, we've got far more important things to think about right now than my dumb brother,” Milly went on. “We've got to think about how we're going to persuade Ruby and Maureen to lend costumes to us!”

“We could say that Mum and Mark want to borrow them to promote a book,” Jason suggested.

Milly shook her head. “Too risky. Ruby and Maureen might go to the shop and ask Dad and Ann why they want them.” She thought again. “How about we say we need them for a school project?”

“I guess,” said Jason. “But they're not really going to just lend expensive costumes to two kids, are they?”

“Well, we have to go about it the right way,” Milly said, a crafty look stealing into her eyes. But as she pulled him into the parking lot, she was suddenly vividly reminded of the day before. She broke off and stopped in her tracks. She recalled seeing herself coming out of the hall with a shocked face, remembered watching herself sobbing on Jess's shoulder…

“Are you all right?” Jason asked her in surprise.

“Yes,” Milly said, trying to force her voice to sound normal.
It's not important now,
she thought.
I'm here because I want to help Fenella. Forget about the auditions. Just think about that.

Taking a deep breath, she smiled at Jason and led him toward the hall door. “Come on, then.”

A middle-aged lady with curly red hair was standing in the hall, putting costumes into piles. A younger blond woman was helping her.

“Hello, Milly,” the red-haired woman said as Milly opened the door.

“Hi, Ruby!” Milly said with her brightest smile. “Hello, Maureen. This is my stepbrother, Jason.”

Jason smiled his most trustworthy smile.

Both ladies beamed back. “So what are you two doing here?” asked Maureen.

“I knew you were sorting out the costumes and I wondered whether you needed any help,” said Milly. “Jason said he'd come along too. Didn't you, Jason?”

“Ummm…yeah,” Jason agreed.

“That's so sweet of you both,” Maureen said fondly.

“We could certainly do with a couple extra pairs of hands,” Ruby agreed.

“Oh, thank you!” Milly said, as though sorting costumes was what she loved best in the whole world. “We're going out at eleven with our family, but we'd love to help
until then!”

“Well, take your coats off and come over here,” said Maureen. “We're trying to pick costumes for the dancers in the chorus. A lot of stuff obviously isn't suitable and a lot needs chucking…”

Jason took an armful of clothes with an embarrassed nod. He sorted uncertainly through a ragbag bundle of old outfits, while Milly chattered away to the ladies.

After several minutes, she casually crossed to a big wardrobe. “Oh wow!” she exclaimed suddenly. “You've got some Egyptian costumes! We're doing an assembly about the Egyptians at school, me and Jason and two friends.” Milly pulled out a couple of hangers loaded with white folds of fabric. “We're supposed to be dressing up, but we're just using old sheets.”

Jason saw Ruby and Maureen exchange looks.

Milly touched one of the costumes very carefully. “These are so beautiful, so well made. Our teacher would be so amazed if we had something like this.” She smiled sadly at Jason. “Oh well, the sheets will be fine…”

“You could always borrow these, Milly dear,” said Maureen.

“Really?” Milly turned to them hopefully.

Ruby nodded. “How long would you need them for?”

“I could bring them back tomorrow, after school,”
Milly said quickly.

Ruby smiled. “Well, we wouldn't lend our costumes to just anyone, but I'm sure you two will take very good care of them.”

“We will! We promise!” Milly said.

“We've got sashes and robes that go with them, somewhere,” added Maureen.

“Oh, thank you!” Milly hugged her. “It's so kind of you!”

Maureen looked very pleased. “It was kind of you to offer to help, dear. And one good turn deserves another, I always say.”

Milly looked at Jason, who was standing there speechless—and grinned.

 

A little while later, Jason and Milly headed up the drive of Mr. Milton's house with four carrier bags full of Egyptian costumes, belts, turbans, and head scarves.

“We're bound to fit in when we go back to Egypt now,” said Milly, bubbling with enthusiasm.

They reached the workshop. Jess and Michael were already inside with Fenella. Although the weather was cold and wet, it was as boiling hot as ever inside the building. The golden bird was huddled deep inside the kiln on top of her egg, calling out through the open furnace door.

“How was I to know you wouldn't be able to sell my gold, duckie?” the phoenix was protesting. “Merchants today can't have much taste, that's all I can say.”

“And Michael doesn't have much
sense
,” Jess added.

“That's for sure,” said Milly, smiling sweetly at her brother. “Hello, Fenella. Hi, Jess.”

Jason smiled around at everyone and held up the carrier bags he was holding. “We've brought some outfits!”

“Oh, great,” Michael muttered.

“I love a fashion show!” Fenella smiled at the children, but Milly thought the bird was looking less bright today in every sense. Her golden plumage seemed a little tarnished, and her good humor seemed forced. Milly was reminded of how her stepmum, Ann, would quietly soldier on when she was ill or had a headache.

“Are you feeling okay, Fenella?” she asked.

“Me, pet?” The phoenix tried to laugh gaily, but began to cough instead. “Oh, don't you go worrying about me. I'm always a bit wobbly before a rebirth. I confess I don't usually feel quite so bad as this, but the swan goes on till she drops, they say—and I'll be blowed if some silly swan's getting one up on a magical bird like me! Now, these outfits of yours…”

Milly and Jason emptied the carrier bags out and offered around the costumes. Michael studied his suspiciously—a
white tunic and baggy trousers made of thin, flimsy nylon with a bright sapphire-blue sash pinned to the waist. “This looks like a pair of kiddie pajamas,” he complained.

“They're fine!” Milly said.

Jason pulled on some white baggy trousers over his shorts and looked at himself doubtfully. He felt like he was about to star in a pantomime!

“Don't you worry, lovie,” said Fenella, seeing his expression. “Anything goes in old Cairo! It's a real melting pot. And in the height of summer, I mean
really
melting.”

“Were you reborn in the summertime, then?” asked Milly.

“By your calendar…” Fenella closed her eyes and muttered to herself as she worked it out. “August twenty-sixth, 1092.”

“Then we're really going back almost a thousand years to get the ash from your last nest,” Jason breathed.

Michael's frown grew deeper. “Uh-huh. In a pair of pajamas!”

“You girls should wear a robe and a head scarf.” Fenella looked thoughtfully at Jason's straw-colored mop of hair. “And you should certainly wear one of those turbans, lovie. That thatch of yours will stand out like a sparrow at a gathering of eagles!”

When they all had their costumes and headgear on,
Milly twirled around in her robe and trousers. “How do I look?”

“You look as pretty as an Arabian pigeon,” said Fenella approvingly.

“I still can't believe we're about to go back into the past!” said Jess.

Jason nodded. “And then we've got the jungle in Peru and Mount Quamquangle to look forward to!”

Fenella raised her wings as far as she could in the cramped confines of the kiln and hunted about her sides for a particular feather. “Now, where is the feather you need…Ah, there it is.” She plucked one out with her beak and tossed it to Michael. The feather was gray and barely glimmered in the light. It felt cold to the touch.

“That feather's as old as I am,” Fenella told them. “One of the first I grew at the time of my last rebirth. It'll take you right back to that August day. The ashes of my nest should still be warm.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “You mean we'll arrive right next to the last nest of your old self?”

“Well, to be honest, dearie, I'm not quite sure exactly where you'll end up, but you should be there or thereabouts.” Fenella gave a feeble cough. “The map will guide you in any case.”

“Of course!” said Michael. “Let's see it, Jase.”

Jason pulled the map from his pocket, and Michael,
Milly, and Jess gathered around to see. It showed what looked to be a complicated zigzagging maze and a large red cross.

“Funny how these words are still there on the map.” Jason pointed. “‘Know Yourself, Trust Yourself, Believe in Yourself.' Skribble said he wanted us to look at them carefully.”

“Oh, yes, Jess told me you'd seen Skribble,” said Fenella. She looked sad. “I can't think why he didn't pop by and see me.”

“He didn't seem quite himself,” Milly confided.

“These words were written on the paper when you were searching for us, Fenella,” Jason realized. “They must have been meant for you.”

Fenella gave a brief squawk. “I don't think so, lovie. I don't
know
myself, 'cause I've no idea why I've laid an egg. And I certainly can't
trust
myself to hang on to my egg after losing the last one.” She shivered, seemed to shrink into herself a little. “And how can I believe in myself, eh? If I was any kind of useful bird I'd just get on with this business of hatching an egg, wouldn't I? I wouldn't need to flit about with all this improbable paraphernalia.”

“You
are
a useful bird,” Milly protested.

“Yeah,” Michael put in. “You're…” He shrugged, blushing. “Well, you're cool.”

“Decidedly chilly, more like!” Fenella smiled at him
gratefully. “But thank you, my pets.” She ruffled her wings. “Well, I can make a good start on building my nest while you're gone, can't I? Oh, but mind out for Bab Zuweila when you are looking for the ash.”