The bed was a great pile of ashes. Smoke detectors beeped wildly, but the fire was out. Frankie laid her brilliant neck against his and shut her golden eyes.
You okay?
Yup. You?
Except for the part where I don’t know how to return to human.
Her head bobbed. His indefatigable mate was laughing. Will it, Bear Boy. But not yet. First, just to be sure, we scatter the bitch’s ashes.
Together they clawed the smoking hot cinders and ashes until they were dispersed too widely to ever coalesce.
Not that I know for sure if they can regenerate. But all the old stories say so.
And then Frankie lifted her resplendent head. Its flaming plumes glittered with even more colors than he had been able to perceive when he was a bear. She opened her terrifying beak and began to sing. Her bugling victory song made his heart race with exultant power.
Sing.
He joined her. Harmonizing effortlessly. Making the ruined ceiling vibrate with the force of their triumphant celebration. More plaster flaked off and spattered them.
I should shift. Clean up this mess.
Not yet. Our work isn’t done yet.
She took off, her laughter ringing in his consciousness like the brassy hoot of a tuba. Flew out the ruined window with a graceful sideways movement that seemed utterly impossible. Surely those wide wings of hers would catch on the frames or the trees beyond?
Hurry.
How come I only get to be the size of a hawk?
More hoots. We need to go through the ritual, Bear Boy. Let’s hope when the battle is over we can turn this snafu around.
What battle? What snafu?
That bitch had whelps. We have to deal with that pack of Hellhounds. And let’s just say, you ate the egg raw.
You’re right about the Hellhounds. If one of them tracked you to Texas, others could.
Damned straight. We’re not going to wait for them to attack. It’s time to take the war to their territory.
So what’s the deal with eating the egg raw? Damned thing burned like a son of a bitch going down. Seemed hot enough to me, D’Angelo.
I’ll explain later. Concentrate on learning to fly. Let your wings catch the thermals. Don’t keep flapping. And don’t fight to stay level. Listen to your wings. Just let flight happen.
As he flew away from it, he saw George and Lincoln racing towards the cottage. They could handle the clean-up, he was going to need all his energy to handle Warrior Woman.
You got that right, Fly Boy.
* * *
Frankie~
Even though they had a battle ahead of them, she felt elated. Carefree. Triumphant. Finally she was flying with her mate. Teaching Cam to fly was a bigger rush than flying jet planes. Who would have thought that anything could top that experience?
Really? This is a bigger rush than flying test aircraft?
You better believe it, Bear Boy. Can’t you feel my trill?
Just the wind beneath my wings, Warrior Woman. And you of course. Where are we headed?
New Mexico. The Balderas Volcanic Fields. We’re going to flush those Cerberuses out of our caves.
What caves would those be?
Volcanic caverns beneath the Balderas.
Why exactly did you go there if the place is full of Hellhounds?
They are intruders. Colonizers. I’d be willing to share our happy playground with them, if that bitch hadn’t brought her fight to my home. I won’t risk another attack.
Agreed. They crossed a line. Just how much lava do Phoenixes need anyway?
Not much. I would have left with a single scrap if I hadn’t been attacked. Besides, there is plenty of magma for everyone. It’s not exactly a finite resource. The earth keeps churning it out.
This is true. I hate to mention this, Frankie, but I am getting tired.
Lift your rump, don’t let those tail feathers drag.
Easy for you to say. They’re nothing but drag. This is not an aerodynamic design.
No? Yet I can break the sound barrier.
Yeah?
Watch and learn, my love. She flew ahead, turned to face her radiant mate and spread her twin tail feathers as far apart as they would go. She brought them together with maximal force. The air crackled as if she had flicked a bullwhip.
Can I do that?
In time. Maybe not today. But soon.
I don’t think I’ve quite got the hang of this flying business. I need a break.
Don’t worry. It’ll get easier. We’ll rest and let you recover. Discuss our tactics.
They perched on a cliff overlooking a river that wended its way through the New Mexico desert. Cam was a total mess. He had lost control of his feathers and the wind had totally disrupted his plumage.
No wonder flying is so hard. You’re in rough shape, lover. Time for some preening and training in the art of feather maintenance.
Are you talking dirty to me, my darling?
Sadly, no. See that stream down below?
Yeah.
We’re going to go bathe in it. And then I am going to teach you how to keep your feathers in trim.
Sounds worse than the Academy.
Frankie took off ahead of Cam, let the thermals catch her and slowly drifted down into the valley.
Hey, this is fun!
Yup. Don’t forget what your tail feathers are for.
Setting stuff on fire?
It’s your rudder. Balance. Direction. Control.
Ah.
Pay attention. You need to get every feather under conscious control, but especially your tail feathers.
I don’t think that’s happening.
That’s what flying is. Be careful when you enter the water. Could be predators waiting by or in the water.
Jesus Murphy.
She landed on a rock that was barely wetted by the river. Peered into its crystal depths and stepped down into the cool water on her long legs, let it flow through her feathers.
Bliss.
If you say so.
Cam made a less graceful landing on her abandoned rock. Scrambled to stop from falling into the river. Stuck his wings out and fluttered awkwardly to join her. The water closed over his back and she felt his sigh of relief.
Who knew flight muscles got so hot and tired?
You’re flapping too much. You need to soar, or you will be sore.
Ha ha. Are you sure we should be raiding these Cerberuses by ourselves? Maybe we ought to have your brother and parents along for backup?
Nah. The two of us will be plenty. Plus, we don’t want to lose the element of surprise, or give the pack time to regroup. Right now, in the absence of both the Alpha male and female, the entire pack will be engaged in civil war. If we’re lucky, all we will have to do is mop up.
And you know this how, D’Angelo?
I’m not the first phoenix to be attacked by Hellhounds. Just the first in the New World. The Cerberus is the traditional enemy of the phoenix.
George Washington.
Trust me. We’ll get the job done.
Strangely enough, I believe you.
Good. Now we get to go perch on the cliff top again. None of these trees are sturdy enough for me in greater phoenix.
And do what?
Preen. Flirt. Rest. Later we’ll go fishing.
Phoenixes eat fish?
You betcha.
* * *
Cameron~
After they had gorged on fish and gone over their strategy one more time, they took to the air again. It was difficult to keep up with Frankie’s twenty-two-foot wingspan when he was only the size of a hawk. But he did love a challenge.
We’re two of a kind, Bear Boy.
You were right. Clean, smooth feathers make a huge difference.
I’m always right.
I don’t know about that, but for sure you have the best ass in Texas.
You think I have the best ass in Texas? Only Texas?
And Georgia. And for the record, al
so the best knockers.
Your butt isn’t so bad, either.
You had to love a woman who was that fast with a comeback.
Bear that in mind, Bear Boy. He could almost hear the snickering. I love you too. Keep your eyes peeled for a tiny hillock with a plume of smoke.
A hillock would be a small hill?
Not even. More of a bulge in the plain. In this case, the vent of an underground chimney. That’s your post.
Gotcha.
What’s our plan?
We can read each other’s minds and we still need three-way communication?
This is a battle, Fly Boy. Humor me.
I wait for your signal, enter the chimney and conceal myself until you join battle with the whelps from hell. We execute a pincer move and trap them between two jets of paranormal fire.
Correct. You enter the chimney on my signal and conceal yourself until you hear the noise of battle. We engage the enemy from two sides and clean up with fire.
Classic maneuver. Works best if the enemy has no reinforcements.
Trust me, they will be having a free-for-all. Except for the most timid ones.
Or the most cunning. In that situation, a clever hound would hang back until the dust cleared.
Then it will be two against one.
You’re the boss.
You do say the sweetest things. Here’s the smoke. I’ll go in through the entrance I used before.
Watch for sentries. Stay alert. Stay alive.
Of course.
Frankie flew off while he began his slow circle of the smoke stack. Now that he was a phoenix he could track her easily and see much further than he ever had before. His view from the clouds seemed endless. But his bear instincts were screaming. He had a bad feeling about this impulsive operation. But he was committed. He would have to follow his mate’s lead.
He had spent his entire manhood in the military. Been deployed dozens of times. Maybe hundreds. He had stopped counting. Every time you went into the field, the prospect of not returning was very real. In Special Forces every mission was beyond hazardous. Duh. Otherwise regular forces would handle it. But he had never felt anything like this terror.
If Frankie was killed, how would he survive? He was connected to her in every way possible. Even though she was not in view any longer, he could feel her. Presumably she could feel him.
Damn straight, Bear Boy. Chin up. I’m going in.
Be careful, my love.
Always.
Now was not the time for doubts but the time to prepare for action. He blanked his thoughts and set himself to the Zen of waiting for battle. He let the wind lift him into another circuit around the little hill. One part of his brain admired the gray-green landscape and the rugged beauty of the volcanic plain. Another waited in enforced calm for Frankie’s command.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cameron~
I’m in the pool cavern. I’ve located the correct passage. No sign of Cerberus spoor in here.
Yet.
They don’t appear to use this area. The paranormal radiation in here could be poisonous to them or something.
Stay alert. Stay alive.
Heard and understood.
I’m on my way. Don’t start without me.
He flew into the crack, wheezing as he breathed in acidic fumes. Partly water vapor, partly vaporized rock, the hot, rising smoke helped keep his descent slow. He listened for any sound that might indicate the presence of their foes, but all he heard was the grumbling of the lava flow. Could anything on earth be heard over that?
Hellhounds wail like banshees. You’ll hear them, lover. I’m approaching the pit that opens to the lava flow. And here we are. Cerberus arena. I’m observing from the passage.
How many?
Seven.
Twenty-one heads.
Correct, Fly Boy. Twenty-one squabbling Beta heads. Can you hear them? Sounds like the dogfight to end all dogfights.
Over the rumbling earth, he heard a distant yelping and the steady snapping of vicious teeth. Like any fighting dogs, the time of growling and threats was past. This was a fight to the death. Only the losers were vocalizing their pain. He allowed himself to descend a little faster, but not too fast. There might yet be patrols.
Stay alert, Warrior Woman.
You bet. Watch for sentries.
Heard and understood.
The heat intensified. Frankie had warned him that the cavern was over two miles beneath the surface. Strangely enough, he relished the hot blast-furnace-gale. Had to be a side effect of going phoenix. For sure nothing human could survive this.
You got it. Phoenixes adore heat. It’s part of our affinity for fire.
Makes sense. Any sign the Cerberuses are keeping watch where you are? None here.
Two sentries, or at least two non-combatants. They are not watching for phoenixes or intruders. They are waiting for the victors to emerge, so they know who to kill.
Are you sure?
There are dead hounds scattered like leaves over the floor of the cavern. Some are barely more than pups. And those two sentries are snacking – not looking for interlopers.
There’s a nasty visual.
You said it. Can you see red light yet? There’s so much fire in here that the damn cavern glows.
He rounded a corner. Yes. They must have set the cave on fire.
The Cerberuses are fighting each other with flame and fang. Ready?
On your signal, D’Angelo.
On the count of three. One. Two. Three.
Frankie began to bugle. Cam opened his beak and matched his mate’s blood-curdling song, note for note. His voice was even brassier than hers. Deeper, with more vibrato. He hoped it was as chilling as hers.
Much worse, my love. Much, much worse.
Excellent. I don’t mind being terrifying.
Phoenixes are terrifying warriors.
So are bears.
Yup.
The combatants were thrown into disarray by their combined phoenix battle song. The vibrations from the sound waves brought down a lethal hail of the fist-sized jewels that studded the cavern roof. As Cam watched, the snarling, snapping mound of burning fur and fearsome jaws was bombarded from above. The heavy stones broke bones and skulls.
Stay out of range of the falling jewelry.
Understood.
Interpreting the barrage of gems as a sneaky fraternal attack, the combatants reacted by laying into each other more ferociously. Blood flowed. Body parts went airborne.
The two sentries used this fresh confusion as an opportunity to dart into the fray and attack their brothers and sisters with unwearied mouths. When the Cerberuses they had savaged whirled on them, they backed out of range baying.
Why aren’t they attacking us?
Too focused on their infighting. While they have siblings to conquer, they can’t process an external enemy.
A working definition of stupid.
Blood feuds are dumb. These guys had their aggression turned on by the disappearance of the Alpha male and female. They are ready to die to be the next one.
George Washington!
As fast as one hound was distracted, others would turn on it and rip its throats out and then resume combat with another sib. Only those two cannibalistic observers held back.
Ready for Stage Two, Reynolds?
On your signal.
One, two, three. Go.
In unison Frankie and Cameron unleashed twin blasts of paranormal fire into the cavern. The two cones of fire spread and merged, consuming everything before them. The Hellhounds yelped. More jewels rained onto their heads. Their yowls of pain gradually diminished as the boiling smoke filled their lungs and the phoenix fire turned them to ash.
Finish it. Take control of the fire. You are its master.
Dammit. Shutting down a fire is harder than starting one. How do I do this?
Same as regular fire. Will it, Bear Boy.
Heard and understood.
Working together, they extinguished every spark and scattered the ashes of the Cerberuses. Just when Cam had decided his nerves were overexcited and rattled and might safely be ignored, a final hound attacked. A lean and hungry monster with glowing red eyes and blazing hide slunk out of one of the many fissures in the cavern. Its three slobbering mouths were intent on Frankie, who was obliviously raking the embers with her talons.
Danger at two o’clock.
Frankie read his mind. Before the Cerberus could pounce, she whirled on it, wings spread, and talons outstretched. Between one breath and the next, she tore its chest open and delivered a dose of paranormal fire. The hound’s death howl peppered them with a shower of gemstones. But the Hellhound could not escape from fires controlled by two phoenixes. It died writhing.
Last one. Do we make a great team or what?
I think so. And my intuition says we’re safe now.
About dang-blamed time. You ready for a little R and R?
Sure. Let’s head home.
Not yet. First we get to have phoenix party time.
Huh?
* * *
Frankie~
She was starving and if she looked as bedraggled and grubby as Cameron, she needed not just food and drink, but a bath followed by some serious preening.
You do look a little the worse for wear. Not quite as shiny as before.
You know, this meeting of minds is a little spooky.
I could get used to it, myself. Seems like the ultimate weapon.
It’s supposed to be a romantic, transcendental bond.
That too. As hungry as we both are, maybe we should head to the surface, catch a few fish and some Zs? And I can’t imagine why, but I’m totally wiped.
Producing paranormal fire is an enormous energy drain. Saps you mentally and physically. But nothing will be as restorative as lava.
Not again! I have to say fish sounds way better. Or pizza. Beer and wings?
Sorry. No delivery in the bowels of the earth. Come on. Wait until you sip magma from the source.
I will follow you anywhere, my love.
She zoomed ahead of him, leading him downward to where the magma rose bubbling from the earth’s mantle. Cam stayed right behind her, even though she could tell he thought she was crazy.
You deserve some romance, Bear Boy. The ritual of immortality is supposed to be romantic.
Phoenix Alight Page 17
