Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4)

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Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4) Page 45

by Nadia Scrieva


  “Go deeper; in order to survive, you must. Hope is shallow—you dip your toes in it all the time. Submerge yourself until you find fortitude. Swim deep enough to taste prudence in the salt. Breach the murky waters of valor.” The woman’s vacant eyes suddenly locked on Visola with a vicious temper. “You do all this, yet you reach your limit when surrounded by truth! It crushes you, it crushes your bones. The pressure is too heavy, and the darkness too obscure. It is also cold. You cannot go any further. You have never gone beneath the truth. You cannot navigate the endless fathoms of forgiveness.”

  Visola remained silent and unblinking for several seconds. Was it some kind of poem? Was the old woman reciting from memory? The words struck a chord in her, although she did not understand them. She chewed thoughtfully on her lip as she spoke with her hands. “Are you telling me I must forgive someone? I have never forgiven anyone in my life.”

  “If you want to survive, you must.”

  “Where are you getting all this?”

  “I have no idea what it means or from whence it came,” the old woman responded with a smile. “I hope you liked your gift.”

  Visola sighed as she watched Aazuria dance around the fire. “Yes. I think I need that pipe now.”

  Chapter 14: Firebird and Falcon

  Visola puffed lazily on the pipe. She smiled a half-lidded smile as she yawned and stretched out in the sand. She could see that Aazuria was tossing around a silver ball in a giant fountain of blood. Sometimes the princess even juggled two or three balls. Visola had not known that her friend could juggle. When she grew bored with watching the circus animals splash around in the fountain of blood behind Aazuria, she turned her eyes to the sky, which was quieter. She sighed peacefully as she tried to listen for anything the stars might be trying to tell her.

  One star tried to whisper, but it was too far away, and Visola told it to speak up. It agreed, and said it would also come closer. The star left the sky and began to travel toward her. As it approached, growing larger and larger, she realized that it was not a star at all, but a great phoenix. The bird’s body was made of red and gold flame, and it approached at an alarmingly rapid rate. The contrast of the bright red flames against the dark night sky was striking and terrifying.

  The bird seemed to take a breath as its cavernous eyes widened; it let out a huge screech as it expelled fire from its lungs in a massive river of lava. Visola gasped, and tried to get out of the way. She found that she was attached to the ground by her wrist. She tugged and tugged, but she could not get free and the lava was heading straight for her.

  Suddenly, she felt the light fluttering of wings across her face. A dark shape materialized between Visola and the stream of lava, protecting her from the onslaught. She saw the silhouette of giant black wings against the fire. When the heat of the flames became too much to bear, she found herself instinctively closing her eyes and burying her face into the sand, and she tasted the grittiness of it. She felt so helpless to be unable to run or fight. She should not have smoked the pipe; she would not have allowed someone to tie her down to the ground if she had been at full alertness.

  The dark bird which had saved her from the fire now flew to her side and encircled her with a warm dark wing. The feathers were soft as they caressed her shoulder and cheek, and she relaxed against the bird.

  “I need to take you somewhere safe,” the bird told her.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “I was so scared. I could not move. I was defenseless. That has never happened to me before.”

  “It happens to all of us sometimes.”

  “Why was the phoenix upset with me? What if it returns to burn me to cinders?”

  “We will be long gone before it returns.”

  “I wish I could go, but I am latched to the ground. I tried to run already.”

  “I could carry you if you’re out of sorts. You could climb atop my back.”

  “You will not be able to lift me,” she whispered, clutching her left wrist. “There’s a heavy metal chain. I cannot remove it. Will you please help me take it off? It weighs a ton.”

  “Certainly, good lady. What a fine piece of work it is.”

  “It’s a just an awful ball and chain. Please take it off!” she pleaded.

  “It seems to be welded on.”

  “I was afraid of that,” she said softly. “I will never be able to move. Not unless you chop my hand off. Will you see if there’s an axe nearby and please chop my hand off?”

  “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

  “Then I am lost.”

  “I will save you. If you hold on to me tightly, I will fly away into the sky, and we shall be free.”

  She squinted. "Who are you?"

  "Falcon of the Seas."

  “Falcon.” Visola nodded. “I should have known. You are such a noble bird. Far better than eagles.”

  “Thank you, good lady.”

  “Are there falcons this far south?”

  “I am not from around here.”

  “Of course not. Where are you from?”

  “Dreamland.”

  “Ahhhh. I have never traveled there,” she said, reaching out to stroke his breast. “Your feathers are so dark. Soft as black silk. I would have guessed that you were a raven, but they are so sneaky; I do not like them very much. Would you like to sit on my arm?” Visola extended her limb so that the bird could alight on its perch.

  The great bird testily reached out with one of its talons and circled Visola's arm around the elbow. Then he withdrew. “I'm afraid that my claws will leave ugly scratches in your smooth skin. You need to wear a special glove for this.”

  Visola smiled. “My skin is actually a lot tougher than you might think, but you're the most considerate bird whom I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

  “I am not a bird, Visola. I am a man.”

  “What?” she asked, frowning. “Then why do you have a sharp beak and massive claws?”

  “That story is too long to tell.”

  She reached out and felt his claws, wrapping her fists around his talons. “Did an evil sorceress cast a spell on you to change you into a winged creature? That is horrible! Unless you like it better? Do you like it better? If so, I wish I could be a bird, like you.”

  “No, good lady. It is better to be a human being.”

  “I am not totally a human being, you know,” she said in a low tone. She lifted her hand and began to make lazy swimming motions. “I am a fish. A human-fish. Are you going to eat me, Falcon?”

  “I promise I will not eat you. You’re safe.” The bird seemed to have a twinkle in his eye. “I prefer earthworms, personally. Fish give me indigestion.”

  Visola was quiet for a moment as she combed her fingers through the dark feathers of the bird. “Falcon, is there a way I could change you back to being a human being? I want to break the curse the sorceress cast on you.”

  “I do not think so. I have been trying to break the curse for a hundred years. I have flown all over the world, and I still cannot find the answer.”

  “I heard that most curses can be broken with a kiss,” Visola said. “May I try, Falcon?”

  “This particular curse was cast by a remarkably advanced sorceress. I do not think that a simple kiss will work this time.”

  Visola ran both of her hands along the pointed beak of the bird. “There’s no harm in trying.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against the falcon’s beak. It was hard and cool to the touch. She had never kissed a beak before, and it felt somewhat odd. “Is it working?” she asked, pulling away.

  “No. I’m afraid not,” the bird said, somewhat disappointed. “I could hardly feel your soft lips through the hardness of my beak. I suppose I’ve cracked so many seeds open with it that it’s numb to sensation. I must be a lost cause.”

  “Do not say that!” Visola scolded. “You saved me from the phoenix and I have to repay you. If there’s a way to break this enchantment, I promise I will find it.” She reach
ed out and slipped her arms under the dark, heavy wings of the falcon, nestling against his warm breast. She nuzzled his feathers contentedly. “Do not be disheartened. I am a great warrior. If there’s a dragon to slay, I will slay it for you. Easy as apple pie.”

  “There are no dragons,” the falcon said. “There is only time.”

  “Time,” she murmured. “I cannot defeat time.”

  “None of us can.”

  “Poor Falcon,” she said. “It must have been a great villainess who cursed you. Your wings are so very heavy. Do they get tired from flying all day?”

  “They do,” he answered gruffly. The tips of his wings were caressing her lower back.

  She inhaled deeply. “You do smell like a man.” She reached up and ran her hand over the curve of his head. “Close your eyes,” she told him. When he did, she pressed her lips against his eyelid. Feeling how smooth it was, she began to place more kisses along his cheek. It felt more like skin than feathers, and she let her tongue dart out to press against his cheek. It tasted like sweat.

  “You taste like a man too,” she said, pulling away in surprise. When he opened his eyes, the two stared at each other for a moment. Visola was spellbound in his gaze. “Your eyes are so round and dark. Behind them there is an intense anger, like that of a man, but no man I have ever met.”

  “That is only because we had not met.”

  “Now that we have met, I want you to stay with me. You must be my falcon. I will take you everywhere—you will come home to Adlivun with me, won’t you?”

  “I will be your Falcon if you will be my Firebird.”

  “Are you going to ask the sorceress to change me into a phoenix?” Visola asked with worry. “I have some issues with my temper, and I do not want to breathe fire onto my sister and scorch her.”

  He smiled, reaching out and tangling his talons in her hair. “You are already a firebird. Look at this wild, red mane of yours. It’s inhuman.”

  “I already told you that I am not human,” Visola said, closing her eyes as she wrapped her arms around the bird’s neck. She was conscious of a strange swaying motion that led her to believe that the bird was carrying her. She did not remember being picked up, but she felt abnormally safe.

  “That’s right. You’re a humanfish. A mermaid.”

  “No. Not really,” Visola said as she nestled against him. “I’m just a warrior. The king says ‘fight’ and I fight. I’m the little horse on the chessboard, and I leap over everything if he wants me to, and he still treats me badly.”

  “That’s the way kings are,” the falcon said. “You can’t let them do that.”

  “The Japanese king is so nice. I should go to live with them, but I can’t leave Zuri.”

  “Is that your husband?”

  “No! Princess Aazuria. I am her bodyguard. I was guarding her before the phoenix came, and now the whole world is on fire.”

  “She is safe, I promise you that. I just need to take you somewhere safe.”

  “I have never been safe. Have you ever been safe?”

  The swaying motion stopped, and the falcon’s sharp eyes pierced into her. His pointed beak carried a serious expression. “No,” he answered, “and whenever I thought I was safe, it turned out that I really wasn’t.”

  The swaying motion began again. “Be safe with me,” Visola pleaded.

  “I wish I could be,” he answered. “I am taking you somewhere now that is supposed to be safe, but I’m not too sure. One can’t be too sure.”

  Visola closed her eyes, and she almost fell asleep. The swaying was lulling. When the motion stopped again, her eyes shot open, and she saw that the falcon was about to fly away. “No, please don’t go!” she begged him. “Why don’t you stay and make love to me?”

  He hesitated. “I can’t,” he told her. “I’m just a falcon.”

  “It’s not a huge impediment,” she said, reaching for him, and pulling his body against hers. “You are so warm and soft. Make love to me, falcon.”

  “You should not make love to strange birds, good lady—have you not heard the cautionary tale of what happened to Leda? What if I were the troublesome Zeus, disguised to take advantage of your moment of weakness?”

  “That was a swan,” she informed him. “I am very particular about my man-birds. Swans and ravens are not to be trusted.”

  “Neither am I, really.”

  “I know you’re different. You saved my life, Falcon.” Visola nuzzled his beak, and smiled almost drunkenly. “Stay with me tonight. You may be a bird, but I can make you feel like a man.”

  “There is no way I can resist an invitation like that,” he told her, before sinking his sharp beak into her neck.

  Chapter 15: Barrel of Piranhas

  When Visola awoke, she realized with a start that she was not alone. The warmth of another body so close to hers had made her sticky and uncomfortable, and she was quite sure that it was not a puppy cuddled up against her back. No, as advertised, it was one of Aazuria’s half-naked, well-muscled, exotic men indigenous to the Southern Continent. She groaned, and slammed her elbow backwards into the man’s stomach, shoving him away from her with disgust. He hit the floor with a loud crash and an oof as the wind was knocked out of him. At least I have a story to tell Sionna when we get home, she thought to herself. She snuggled back down happily between the sheets. Then it occurred to her that she was no longer on the beach.

  He hit the floor? Visola frowned and opened her eyes. She saw the wooden patterning of her bedroom wall on the ship. This confused her as she had not remembered returning to the boat. She had brought a Yawkyawk man back to the ship? What had she been thinking? What about Aazuria? Visola was reminded of the fact that she should never party, because she always partied too hard. Was it really worth ruining days or weeks of her life over one night of pleasure? Pleasure that she could not even remember, for that matter.

  The man she had accidentally shoved off her bed made a grunting noise. She turned over to face him, and propped herself up on her elbow so that she could speak to him in sign language.

  “Please leave my room immediately,” she told him. Even as she commanded this, she observed his features and physique. He was wearing trousers, but unclothed from the waist up; she was surprised by her evidently impressive subconscious taste. She kept her face stern, and did not betray that she found his appearance pleasing. “I was drugged last night, and I apologize for anything I said or did, but I do not remember any of it, and I did not mean any of it. You must leave immediately or I will employ force to remove you from my quarters.”

  The man rubbed his head where he had hit it on the floor. “God almighty, are you always this grumpy in the morning?”

  “I am not gru…” Visola froze. He had spoken in English. With a thick British accent. She noticed his fair skin and precisely groomed black hair which was swept back into a small curled tail. “You are not a Yawkyawk man,” she said slowly.

  “No,” he said, yawning.

  “You’re Father Kyrosed’s new man.”

  He nodded, closing his eyes and stretching sleepily. “I tried to explain that to you last night, but you were convinced that I was a bird.”

  “You swine!” she yelled. She pounced on the man, and punched him in the face viciously. “You scoundrel!”

  “Now hold on a moment,” he said, grabbing her wrists. He was surprised to find that he could not easily subdue her. “You’re being a tad judgmental.”

  Visola straddled him and forced his hands above his head, pinning them there with one hand before punching him in the face again. “I was delirious! I was drugged! I expect you to know better—you are civilized!”

  The man realized he had to be fully awake to defend himself, and he managed to wrestle her off him. He pinned her under him and smiled down at her. “Are you saying the Yawkyawk are uncivilized then?”

  She slammed her forehead into his and used his moment of surprise to throw him off her. She tackled him again and continued to wrestle for
dominance. “They have a different culture than ours. They are more natural and simple. I expect they have different definitions of right and wrong.”

  “So if I were not an Englishman, I would be off the hook?” he asked as he forced her onto her stomach and locked her arms behind her. “That seems unfair.”

  She tried to throw her skull backwards to connect with his nose, but he dodged the strike. She tried to writhe with her legs to escape his hold, and failing, she began to repeatedly kick him. “You know better than to take advantage of a situation the way you did!”

  He laughed. “You may cease your assault on me. We did not sleep together.”

  “I woke up beside you!” she shouted, exasperated with the fact that he had actually pinned her down. How was this possible? This was turning out to be a bad morning.

  “But nothing more than sleeping happened,” he explained, rather calmly in comparison. “You will notice that we both have our clothes on. You were just telling me an interesting story about your fascination with avian creatures. You were rather affectionate.”

  “I was hallucinating!” Visola said with a deep frown. She continued to struggled, and was surprised when he kept her pinned down with very little effort.

  “I know. Drugs are bad for you,” he said, “but unbelievably entertaining for me. I do have a great weakness for a good story. I loved the theatre with a passion as a boy.”

  His earnest manner and lack of retaliation convinced her of his honesty. She abruptly stopped struggling and began to consider the situation. “Let me clarify what appears to be happening to make sure the effect of the hallucinogen has actually worn off,” Visola said. “Do you actually have me pinned down?”

  “Yes, that is correct. By your fighting skill I would assume this is this not a common occurrence?”

  “No. I don’t think it has ever happened with someone who wasn’t a family member.”

  When he was quiet for a moment, she looked over her shoulder and saw his suspicious expression. She snarled. “What are you thinking? I come from a family of warriors, and they trained me so well from my birth that I have never been defeated.”

 

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