Phoenix Burning

by Bryony Pearce

  Someone else must be struggling with the challenge. Toby’s heart rose slightly. He had seen no movement, but at least he wasn’t alone in finding it difficult to sit still.

  He closed his eyes once more. That’s how they were doing it – praying.

  Could he? Toby didn’t believe what they did – that the Sun was listening, or that it was some all-powerful god capable of removing light on a whim.

  But did he believe in anything else? There were a lot of different nationalities on board the Phoenix, each with slightly different beliefs. There were Catholics and Muslims, but also Methodists, Scientologists and atheists. They’d even had a voodoo practitioner once.

  He thought of his hands, moving on the Phoenix’s engines. Did they know that he, Toby, controlled them?

  His mind spun around the question. Of course not, there was no mind in a machine… But to a god, wouldn’t Toby have as much agency?

  This was impossible. Did he think that someone was listening in to his thoughts? No. But did he think it was worth reaching out and asking for strength from somewhere? Maybe the simple act of asking would be enough to access willpower that he didn’t know he had.

  His thoughts spiralled further and further inwards. His breathing slowed and when Toby opened his eyes, time had passed.

  Now he was thirsty. When he swallowed it felt as if there was a coil of thistle in his throat. He, at least, had drunk a cup of water before the challenge had started. Ayla had not. How was she feeling? He listened for her breathing again. It remained steady. She seemed fine.

  Sudden claws dug into his leg. Cramp. Toby’s eyes widened as he fought to remain still.

  “What’s the … matter?” Ayla murmured.

  “C-cramp.” Toby felt tiny flakes of clay crack and slide from his upper lip when he spoke. His breath came faster.

  “Flex … your muscles … but … don’t move.”

  “I can’t.” Toby felt the pressure of tears against his eyes and groaned. Opposite, Uzuri turned her gaze on to him, anticipating his failure.

  All he wanted to do was knead the cramp away.

  “If you move … I’ll kill you,” Ayla rasped.

  “I know.”

  Every breath was a groan now and Toby knew the others were listening, circling around his failure like sharks.

  Then, as quickly as it had arrived, the cramp vanished. The muscle in his thigh quivered, as if exhausted. The clay on his thigh had cracked, but not flaked, not yet.

  As his chest subsided and his breathing slowed there was a sigh from his right shoulder, a huff of disappointment that terrified him.

  Sweat began to trickle down his chest and sides, wetting the clay. The mud was protecting him from the sun’s rays, but baking him alive. How long before nightfall?

  There was a moan from his left, reminding him that he was not the only one struggling. He felt guilty relief.

  This time when he took a deep breath, the clay on his chest cracked. Toby watched in horror as fissures appeared and chunks of clay tumbled down his front like rocks from a mountain.

  He held his breath, but then his fingers twitched without his volition; a tiny movement, which might not have been seen. Toby closed his eyes, now he was praying.

  “It hurts,” Summer whispered from Toby’s right-hand side and he fought the impulse to turn and look at her.

  The shadow of the sundial seemed to have skipped towards the wall. Night was approaching. How long had the group been sitting there? Toby had no idea, but he knew he could not keep it up for much longer. The tiny movement in his fingers had spread and muscle spasms periodically created fractures in his clay coating. He could feel the creaking of the shell on his back. Would it soon slide off in one great piece? When he swallowed he could sense the armour over his throat lifting and falling. If that went it would take out his lap as well.

  “How’re ye doin’ there, Falklands?” Moira goaded. “Looks like yer Moon boy is struggling.”

  “Bite me.” Ayla kept her reply short but Toby’s heart thumped.

  “None of you deserve this more than we do,” Matus muttered. “Just move.”

  Was it Matus who had groaned earlier? Was he as desperate as Toby?

  Then Toby heard quiet crying become louder sobs. He didn’t dare turn to see who it was, but he knew it wasn’t Uzuri, Summer or Ayla. Moira had recently spoken and she sounded more pissed off than miserable. That left Bianca, Lenka and Celeste. Was that why Matus sounded so desperate, because he knew his partner was dragging him to the altar?

  “My leg.” The words were whispered, but filled with pain and Toby knew who it was: Cezar.

  “Pray, Cezar,” Bianca said. So it was Lenka or Celeste crying. The noise was grating on his ears.

  The sun dipped below the wall, shrinking from an orb, to a semicircle, to a thin line. Then it was gone, leaving streaks of red in the clouds.

  A breath of cool air descended over the courtyard and Toby heard the squeak of bats.

  Torches blazed suddenly as brothers and sisters proceeded down the cathedral steps. They circled the teens and Toby’s neck prickled. The instinct to look up almost destroyed him.

  Finally Mother Hesper spoke. “Judge, Brothers and Sisters – which candidate has lost the most clay.”

  Toby found a new well of stillness inside him. As the heat of a torch burned on his back, he squeezed his eyes tightly closed. He did not trust himself not to look up at the attendant who examined him.

  Footsteps crunched in the dust around him. He sensed the closeness of breath on his skin, then movement away.

  “This one.”

  Toby jumped, the voice was overhead. He looked up, but the attendants were not pointing at him. It was the crier, her sobs so much louder now: Celeste.

  Toby had barely spoken to the Italian couple. They were so wrapped up in one another that they had no interest in anyone else, but their love had somehow lightened the atmosphere.

  When Mother Hesper stalked behind them, Aldo simply reached across to Celeste’s hand and squeezed it tightly. They helped one another to stand, staggering as their legs unkinked, then they pressed their foreheads together. Their whispered “I love you” fluttered through the air, then they stumbled, with quiet dignity, up the steps of the sanctuary. The door closed behind them with a hollow bang.

  No screams sounded.

  The attendants surrounding them bent down finally, with wet cloths. Toby thought the sister behind him was going to wash his face, but instead the woman held it to his lips. “Take this first, you need a drink.”

  It tasted musty, as if the cloth was old and unwashed, but the liquid slid down his throat and he closed his lips more tightly and sucked harder, getting every drop of moisture that he could.

  Then the attendant took the flannel away and handed it back dripping once more. “Mother wants you to clean off the worst of it before you walk through the sanctuary to the baths.” Sympathy lined her young face.

  “Did you have to do trials like this?” Toby rasped.

  The attendant shook her head. “I wasn’t suitable for the festival.” She turned to show him a twist of light brown hair. “You’re lucky to take part…” She looked around swiftly and fell silent. Toby handed his cloth back to her. Under cover of darkness, she gave his hand a squeeze, then left with the others.

  Toby tried to stand up, but his legs had completely seized. He rolled to his knees and saw Cezar clutching his leg with fingers that were bent into claws.

  As they all struggled to rise, moans filled the air and bones cracked as they stretched.

  Toby turned to Ayla; she was still covered in clay – hers had barely cracked.

  “How did you stay so still?” he croaked, dust clogging his throat.

  Ayla raised her arms above her head. “I pretended I was on watch.” A loud crack and slabs of clay broke off her shoulders and shattered on the floor.

  Moira sidled up behind him. “Ye only just made it through that test. How d’ye think ye’ll do on
the next one?”

  Toby stepped closer to Ayla. “We’ll do fine. Are you worried?”

  Moira shook her head. “No’ at all,” she sneered.

  Ayla placed a hand on his forearm. “Ignore her.”

  Toby nodded and turned his back on Moira, which put him in front of Lenka. She too smirked when she looked at him. “What’s the matter, lost your tongue?” Her hair still stood up and in the firelight she looked like a demon. “Next time. Right, Matus?” Beside her Matus nodded, the torches flicking shadows on to his face.

  Instinctively Toby looked round. Arthur was watching him. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he headed towards the steps after Summer.

  Toby and Ayla followed, separating only when they reached the bathrooms.

  The tanks in the bathing house were heated by direct sunlight, meaning the water was never more than tepid, but Toby was grateful for the cool as he scrubbed the final streaks of dried mud into the greying tub.

  He threw on his clothes. Zahir was in the next bath with his eyes closed; he looked like a jellyfish splayed in the water.

  “Are you all right?” Toby touched his shoulder. Zahir didn’t move, but he opened his pink eyes and looked at Toby.

  “I am just thinking, Toby. What will they have us do tomorrow?” He closed his eyes again. “I believe in the Sun. I was meant for this.” He sank lower in the water. “But … I am afraid.”

  Toby found Ayla in the courtyard.

  “How’re you doing?” He hesitated, then gave her hand a squeeze.

  Ayla leaned close. “We need to move on this.”

  Toby nodded his agreement.

  “Follow my lead,” she whispered.

  Mother Hesper was on the top step, watching Zahir as he emerged into the courtyard. He kept his eyes low as he passed.

  The mother’s own eyes were hooded by her low brow and her cheekbones sliced lines of shadow into her face.

  Ayla marched up the steps towards her. “May Toby and I please pray inside the Reliquary?” She lowered her chin and made a sun sign. “I feel the need to be closer to the Sun than ever.”

  Mother Hesper frowned. “Inside the Reliquary?”

  “Yes. Like the brother we saw.”

  “The Reliquary is only for those high enough in the Solar Order – brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers.” Mother Hesper started to turn away.

  “But the relics seem like proof that the Sun pays attention.” Ayla hung her head and Toby saw the muscle in her jaw twitching. “I felt so close to the Sun in there and it’s been so hard today. Hail the Sun.” Ayla raised her hand higher, as if pressing the sister to agree.

  “You are trying to seem more devout than us!” Furious, Lenka ran up the steps behind Ayla. “But you are not. We want to pray in the Reliquary, too.” She nodded vigorously at Matus.

  “That does sound like a good idea.” Summer stepped forwards. “We’d like to pray in the Reliquary as well.”

  “You would all like to do this?” Mother Hesper raised her eyebrows.

  Bianca nodded. “A prayer before the relics would help me centre myself … after…” Her eyes went to the door through which Aldo and Celeste had vanished.

  Mother Hesper stared thoughfully at Bianca then finally she spoke. “You may have a few minutes in the Reliquary.”

  The guardian uncles were not happy about the visit, taking their time about moving aside and glowering at Mother Hesper as she unlocked the thick iron-wood door. The six couples filed past with their heads down. Only Ayla looked up, and Toby saw her taking note of the uncle’s weapons, her face calculating. He caught her hand and drew her attention to give a small shake of his head.

  She scowled and faced the door, but left her hand in his. Toby wrapped his fingers around hers as they entered the crypt.

  Most of the couples went to the museum pieces. Bianca, Zahir and Uzuri dropped to their knees in front of the Egyptian statues, but the others remained standing, heads bowed.

  Mother Hesper watched suspiciously as Ayla and Toby headed towards the inverters where they sat among the other strange devices, their Solaris symbols displayed.

  “Don’t you want to pray with the others?”

  Ayla shook her head. “To me, these are the best relics – they caused the Sun to go out, so I know the Sun listens here.” She stopped in front of them. “Praise the Sun,” she said loudly.

  Lenka’s head flew up and she nudged Matus. “I want to pray there,” she hissed.

  “She’s right.” Moira turned. “Those relics’re holier.”

  “Much.” Toby nodded.

  “Well, I wasn’t distracted by the shiny things.” Ayla gestured disparagingly at the jewels and museum pieces.

  Arthur put a hand on Summer’s arm as the girl jerked up, anger burnishing her cheeks.

  Ayla leaned in close to Toby and pressed her lips to his ear. “Be ready,” she mouthed.

  Toby stepped closer to the relics. The inverters were near the front, piled together. A single grab would get him both, but only if no one was watching.

  “You think you’re so devout.” Ayla looked at Bianca. “But there you are, praying in front of jewellery and other valuables like a banker with his money box.”

  Bianca abandoned the statuettes and leaped to her feet. Her long fingernails slashed the air and she faced Ayla, nose to nose.

  “Girls…” Mother Hesper’s voice held a warning tone but Ayla put one hand on Bianca’s hip and one on her shoulder. “Get out of my face,” she hissed and she shoved hard. Bianca flew backwards and thudded into the wall between the shelves.

  As Mother Hesper cried out in alarm, Toby edged closer to the shelf on which the relics were displayed.

  Lenka reached for Ayla’s arms. “You think you’re more devout than us?” she screeched. “You think you’ll win the trials? There’s no way you’ll beat Matus and I.”

  Ayla spun around, as fast as Toby had seen her move; she knocked one of Lenka’s grasping hands out of the way with her shoulder and as Lenka staggered sideways, she continued her turn, grabbed the girl by her neck and bent her over her knee, backwards.

  Lenka gasped, unable to cry out and with a yell Bianca jumped on to Ayla’s back and yanked her hair. Ayla issued a sharp punch to Lenka’s forehead, dropped the dazed girl and reached up. She put one hand on her own skull to prevent her hair being pulled any harder; then with the other, she grabbed Bianca, ducked and flung her over her shoulder.

  The air flew from Lenka’s lungs in a burst as Bianca crashed on top of her. Bianca screamed, rolling to clutch her spine.

  Mother Hesper retreated from Bianca’s thrashing limbs. “That’s enough,” she said loudly. “This is a holy place.”

  But now Moira and Brody were circling.

  “You’re nae better than us,” Moira hissed.

  Toby swallowed. It was as if all the tension that had wound inside them over the last few days had suddenly found an outlet. Could Ayla handle this?

  Cezar hopped from foot to foot, looking from Toby to the others. Toby knew he couldn’t get the inverters while Cezar was watching him. Toby held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, making it clear he wouldn’t get involved.

  His back met the shelf. The items he so desperately wanted were right behind him and now a furious Mother Hesper was marching to the Reliquary door. Toby’s heart thudded. “She’s going for the uncles,” he called.

  Ayla nodded. Things had to get chaotic and fast. She surged towards Brody. It looked to Toby like she was punching wildly, but each fist landed with almost surgical precision, causing maximum damage without actually putting him out of the fight. When Moira threw herself into the fray, her own arms flailing, Toby realized the trio had drawn every eye, even Cezar’s.

  In one swift movement, he reached round and pulled his trousers open at the back. With his other hand he swept the two inverters off the shelf. When he felt them tumble inside he exhaled and took two long steps away from the shelf and the fight.


  He bent down as if to rub away a cramp in his leg and pulled the inverters from the bottom of his trousers. When he stood up, he slipped one into each pocket and returned his attention to Ayla.

  Half of her attention was on him. When she saw him stand she tried to pull back from the fight. Immediately, Moira took advantage of her loss of focus. Wrapping her arms around Ayla, she held her still, while Brody raised his fists.

  Toby shouted, but he couldn’t risk diving in to save Ayla and losing the inverters.

  So he didn’t move.

  SIXTEEN

  As Toby shouted, Bianca rolled back to her feet and grabbed Ayla’s shirt. She yanked it sideways, ripping the material and Ayla struggled as the sputtering torchlight showed her scars to the group.

  “Ha!” Bianca lifted one hand, her long nails flashing.

  This had gone too far. Inverters almost forgotten, Toby dived forwards to stop Bianca – and ran straight into an outstretched arm. Matus. He slammed into the floor, back first, gasping for breath. Immediately his hands went to his pockets – both inverters remained secure. But at Ayla’s scream he looked up.

  Her face was turned upwards and her lips were twisted with agony.

  Horror-struck, Toby watched Bianca dig her pointed nails deeper into Ayla’s shoulder and drag downwards. Ayla’s scar tissue peeled like the skin of an orange. Four furrows filled with blood, which started to drip down her arm.

  “Stop it!” Toby screamed.

  Mother Hesper burst back into the room with two uncles at her back. Fury drew her features into thin lines and she shouted with rage until one of the big men dragged Bianca from Ayla’s side.

  For a second Bianca fought, half-crazed. Then, she stopped abruptly. She nodded to the uncle and, when he released her, she stepped backwards, lifted her nails to her face and, slowly, licked them clean.

  “You’re sick,” Toby choked.

  Even Lenka slid her gaze sideways, unable to look at Ayla’s injuries. When the second guard pulled Moira’s arms from Ayla and pushed her away, Toby struggled to his feet, barged Brody out of the way and caught his partner as her knees folded.