Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1)

by Amy Kuivalainen

  “Sorry,” he muttered, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “Just be careful with it. I am going to go and check on the others now. Can I trust you to not interrupt them?” she asked with her hands on her hips; knives were in sheaths around her thighs and on her belt. Yvan had seen that she could, and would, use them if necessary.

  “I will be fine. I am just worried about Anya,” he assured her.

  “Understandable but Baba Zosia and my sister will do everything they can for her.” Katya eyed him for a long moment before leaving him to pace and stress. He heard Anya scream again and his stomach churned.

  Baba Zosia appeared a short time later pale and leaning heavily on Aleksandra’s arm.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “She live,” Baba Zosia grunted. Aleksandra helped her up the steps of the next caravan before she came out carrying a basin of water.

  “Anya is fine, Baba Zosia got the thorns out but it has drained her.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Not yet. I need to get her cleaned up and she must rest so she can heal.” She moved past him and into the caravan. Trajan came hurrying out looking flustered.

  “I see you have been evicted as well,” Yvan said calmly.

  “I have served my purpose.”

  “Which was?”

  “To tell them if Anya was dying,” Trajan frowned. “She is fine now though, just exhausted. You can stop looking so worried, Yvan.”

  “I am worried though. Vasilli did that to her through a dream. How in all the worlds are we going to keep her safe from him?”

  “I don’t believe she will make the same mistake twice but I really don’t have an answer for you. She is worth protecting though,” Trajan’s voice had grown soft. Yvan’s frown deepened.

  “You should go and eat something Trajan. The body you have is still mostly human after all,” he said, “I will watch over her for a while.” Trajan hesitated but he finally relented.

  When Aleksandra opened the door some time later Yvan quickly ducked into the shadows and hoped she didn’t spot him. He watched her walk past him, the water in the basin alarmingly red. He hurried up the stairs and into the dark caravan. Anya lay on the bed covered high with brightly coloured crocheted blankets. Her green eyes flickered open and she smiled tenderly at him.

  “I was wondering if you were ever going to come visit me,” she said as he sat down on the small milking stool beside her.

  “I haven’t been allowed to, I am still not.” He gently took her heavily bandaged hand between his own. “How are you?”

  “I am sore but I can move now which is a good thing.”

  Let me help her, the firebird said in his mind. Yvan felt it move and shift on his chest as warmth flooded down his arms and into her hand.

  “Oh,” Anya breathed, her eyes growing wide.

  “It wants to do its share to help you. It doesn’t like to see you suffer either.”

  “Will you stay with me a little while?” she asked as her eyes began to droop.

  “If you would like me to.”

  “Good.” She rolled onto her side and cuddled into their hands before drifting off to sleep. Yvan was nodding off as the door to the caravan opened. Baba Zosia shuffled in and grunted when she saw him.

  “I knew you be here,” she said quietly, so not to wake Anya.

  “I am not disturbing her.”

  “You and dat burd inside you,” her fingers brushed his face lightly and Yvan felt the firebird flare. “You make problems for her.”

  “I know that but I can’t leave her now Vasilli is aware of her.”

  “He do this for fun.” Baba Zosia held a glass vial in front of him. The bloody thorns were inside and Yvan flinched.

  “I know he did. Anya didn’t know he could harm her in her own dreams.”

  “I will show her how to stop dat. I show her some more tings. But not for long. You all must go. He come for her.”

  “Thank you, we will take any help you are willing to give chovihani,” he bowed his head respectfully.

  “Dat other creeture. He care for her,” her face tightened into a scowl.

  “Trajan? Yes, he does.” Yvan felt his chest tighten that a complete stranger had noticed Trajan’s obvious interest in Anya.

  “He fall in love wit her. Bad ting.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “I see it. He will. She will. But will you still be there for her?”

  “I will,” he said though unexpected pain was running through him.

  “She needs hero. You be her hero and lovers not matter,” Baba Zosia said with a wave of her hand. “You be whut she need. She love you different. She love you forever. Be her hero. Be her champion.” Yvan looked down at Anya’s pale face and tangled mass of silvery hair.

  “I already am her champion,” he sighed, “I know I won’t leave her.”

  “Good,” Baba Zosia patted his shoulder. “You grieve for vife?” Yvan had no idea how she knew about Helena. The fairytale version of what happened had been told through both worlds but only Yvan and Vasilli knew the truth of what really happened that night. He hadn’t even told Anya the full version of events.

  “A part of me has been grieving the whole time I was in the egg,” he admitted as he looked back at Anya, “Other things are more important now.”

  Chapter Fifteen- The Seer, the Hunter and the Witch

  Anya woke to the sound of rain pattering on the roof. The warm milky smell of cooking porridge and cinnamon was drifting through from the front of the caravan. Anya flexed her toes experimentally and was relieved to find they were working. Sitting up slowly she ran her hands through her hair. Her wounded palm was still tender but not throbbing like it had been. Whatever Yvan and the firebird had done it had helped with the pain. With her body protesting every step she hobbled through the curtained doorway.

  Baba Zosia, swathed heavily in knitted shawls, stood in front of a cast iron, pot-bellied stove scooping thick porridge into painted wooden bowls.

  “Eat,” she said as she passed Anya a bowlful. She took it and sat at the small pine table. Baba Zosia put her own down and glared at her.

  “Thank you for getting the thorns out of my hand,” Anya said, not knowing if the older woman would even understand her. “I would be dead if you hadn’t.”

  “Worse,” said Baba Zosia, “Eat.” Anya scooped the gooey porridge in her mouth. Ever since she had come to Skazki she had a much stronger appetite than usual. Being sober more often probably had a lot to do with it. Baba Zosia watched her carefully.

  “You have Papa’s eyes,” she said and tapped her temple.

  “You knew Eikki?”

  “Our path cross. He com to me when you born. To see destiny. I don’t lie. He scared.” Baba Zosia clucked her tongue. Aleksandra came into the caravan, her black hair glittering with rain droplets.

  “Bunǎ dimineaţa,” she greeted with a bright smile at Anya. “It’s nice to see you up and eating already.” Baba Zosia said something long and complicated to Aleksandra as she shed her soaked shawl and hung it near the stove to dry.

  “Baba Zosia said I am to translate for you,” she relayed to Anya as she poured them all coffee. “Her English is limited and she says she has much to tell you.”

  “You speak English very well,” Anya commented.

  “Yakaterina taught me. She spends a lot of time in the real world and our language is only used by our particular tribe.”

  “It certainly sounds complicated.”

  “It is a hybrid of many languages Rom, Russian, Egyptian you name it. We have had many different cultures join us over the years so it is very hard to learn it unless you live with us.”

  “Do you live in Skazki permanently?”

  “We travel in and out as it suits us. Lately we have been in Skazki more though, trouble is brewing-” They were interrupted by Baba Zosia who started to talk rapidly to Aleksandra.

  “She says that she looked into your future when you we
re a child and she saw many things. That she saw you being torn apart by dark and light. You were powerful and strong. She could taste the magic. Eikki didn’t want that for you so he said he wouldn’t teach you. He didn’t believe it would happen with or without his help. His own son was a great disappointment to him.”

  “I didn’t think much of him either,” Anya muttered. Baba Zosia raised an eyebrow at her and Anya quickly shut her mouth. She said something to Aleksandra who nodded and said, “There must have been something buried in his blood though to name you as he did. That his magically dead son could find a name so close scared Eikki. Your father and mother died at the hands of Eikki’s enemies and to protect your identity he shortened your name to Anya.”

  “Anya is my whole name,” she argued. She had been called Anya for as long as she remembered. That or the cruel names children used to call her. She thought of Yvan calling her shalosť, mischief, and she smiled at the nickname.

  “She says that it’s not your whole name,” Aleksandra frowned as Baba Zosia began to speak more quickly, “but she will get to that. She says there are servants of the dark searching everywhere for gifted people like us. They hunt for old families who have held the power. The magic in their blood grows stronger as the years pass. People with the magic usually only ever connect with other people with special gifts. The two types of magic entwine making the child of their union stronger. You know how people talk of soul mates? A person they are so connected to and yet they won’t be able to tell you why? It’s because the magic in their blood is…”Aleksandra stumbled to find the right word, “ah…singing to one another. The Darkness, who Vasilli works with, follows magical families to find the best talent. The people in the real world don’t believe in magic anymore. It makes it so easy for the dark ones to find them. They have no idea of their power. They just disappear into the night.”

  Anya opened her mouth to ask a question about the Darkness but Baba Zosia held a hand up to her. Her tone when speaking with Aleksandra was growing sharper and angrier.

  “They have watched your family since Yanka’s death,” Aleksandra continued, “waiting for the moment to strike. To turn a child with such power could help them create a weapon. They killed your parents but couldn’t kill you. It made them curious. You had shown no signs of power that they could see. Eikki felt them watching you both. To protect you he changed your name and vowed he would never teach you so they would maybe lose interest. They kept close eyes on you so he had his friends watch you from time to time. Why do you think he panicked when you ran away? He thought they had kidnapped you.” The stuffy space was quiet for a long moment. So much had been going on around her and she had been too dense to see the signs.

  “What is my full name if it is not Anya?” she asked finally. Aleksandra translated for her and Baba Zosia clucked her tongue before answering, “Anyanka.”

  “Anyanka.” So close to her family matriarch’s name and if Yanka had been a Power than perhaps that was why Eikki’s enemies were paying too much attention to them. Anya felt dizzy and her skin was crawling underneath. Blood rushed to her head as her magic flared hot and she fainted.

  “I can’t believe you killed her already.” Katya’s voice drifted through Anya’s subconscious.

  “We haven’t killed her. The magic forced its way through her and she couldn’t handle it,” Aleksandra defended. “She will be all right soon enough.”

  “You don’t think you pushed her too hard? She almost died yesterday.”

  “We know that better than anyone,” Aleksandra snapped. Baba Zosia added something in their language and Katya sighed, loud and sarcastic.

  “I am Anyanka,” Anya whispered and opened her eyes slowly. She saw Katya looking at her from beside her bed with a teasing look on her face.

  “I thought Yakaterina was a mouthful. May I call you Anya still? I think if I start calling you Yanka it might cause a riot,” she joked. “Anya suits you anyway.”

  “My skin won’t stop tingling.” Anya flexed her hands to try relieve it.

  “It’s the magic,” explained Aleksandra. “That’s why you have to learn to control it so it doesn’t try to get out at unexpected times.”

  “That would be a killjoy when you’re having sex,” said Katya.

  “Silly Katya go to Mir and tink she know everyting,” Baba Zosia mocked, her accent becoming thick with scorn. “Leaves tribe to run with men become harlot.”

  Katya rolled her eyes at Anya. “I have no time to be a harlot. I am too busy killing things that stupid people can’t see.”

  “You hunt in the real world?” Anya asked. “Where? How do you get in? I thought the gates were all guarded.”

  “They can’t stop us, little Anya,” Katya answered. “We move between Skazki and Mir as effortlessly as you do. We have roamed since time began, we are of both worlds.”

  “Where do you live when you are there?”

  “I have an apartment in Budapest, one in Moscow and one in Paris,” Katya counted them off on her fingers. “It depends where the trouble is brewing and how quickly I can get there.”

  “All you are doing is cleaning up other people’s mess,” Aleksandra interrupted. “You and your friends cause more trouble than the monsters.”

  “You have friends in the real world like you? How many?”

  “A few. We are loners by nature but there are people I can call if I ever need back up.”

  “You were amazing yesterday. I have never seen anyone fight like that before.”

  “I could show you a trick or two.”

  “I could show you both a trick or two,” Cerise said as she walked in, “I was wondering if you were up yet. I came to do the nurse thing and check on you.”

  “I am fine, I think,” Anya said as Cerise sat down on the end of her bed. Baba Zosia was looking at her suspiciously but said nothing. Katya lifted Cerise’s hand to look at her nail polish.

  “O.P.I?” she asked Cerise.

  “Good guess.”

  “God, I have to get back to the real world,” sighed Katya. “Time to go back to Paris I think. We need to get out of here so we can figure out what to do next. I have a lot of hunter friends in France I could call on.”

  “You are going to come with us?” Anya asked in surprise.

  “If you will have me. Trouble is following you and you need an extra warrior in your group. Not that Fido doesn’t do an okay job.” Anya smiled but wondered if Katya would ever have the guts to call Izrayl “Fido” in front of him. One look at her sharp, scarred face and Anya suspected she would.

  “Trajan has a house there we could use,” said Cerise thoughtfully. “We have friends through Europe we can get in contact with and see what kind of activity is going on.”

  “What do mean activity?” Anya questioned looking at them.

  “Vasilli would have his allies looking everywhere for you now,” Katya said, “He would have alerted the Darkness throughout Russia. You killed Vischto. You added insult to injury by turning him down in that dream of yours “

  “Because that turned out so well for me,” Anya said as she waved her bandaged hand at them. “He is going to know the thorns are out.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Aleksandra, “Baba Zosia said that if they remain in your blood he may not be able to.”

  “Well that is something at least,” Katya said, “We can’t take you back to Russia though. He will have too many allies there who will know of you.”

  “Why shouldn’t we just stay in Skazki?” Anya questioned.

  “While you stay in Skazki you are trailing magic wherever you go. We couldn’t run fast enough to get away. I have friends who can teach you how to control it.”

  “The Twins could help,” Aleksandra suggested. “But Anya needs to use her magic so it doesn’t leak a trail everywhere. Baba Zosia and I would like to teach you some techniques that could help you.”

  “Like card tricks?” joked Anya. Baba Zosia scowled at her

  “I think we should
start basic. How to use your runes and, if you have the ability, to link with Katya using your mind. Simple things that will be useful,” Aleksandra replied.

  “Great, another voice in my head telling me what to do,” Katya said huffily as she got up and left the caravan. Aleksandra went after her and Baba Zosia went back to the tiny kitchen and lit a pipe.

  “I am going to tell the boys that you are okay honey,” Cerise said when they were alone, “They are worried senseless. Yvan keeps igniting.”

  “Literally or figuratively?” Anya asked as she sat up.

  “Literally. Both.”

  “That’s new.”

  “The firebird’s doing it. He is troubled as well.”

  “Aren’t I lucky to have all of these people worried about me?” Anya said as tried to braid her hair. Cerise slapped her hands away and after they found Anya’s brush in her pack she braided it for her.

  “I haven’t seen Trajan this anxious for a mortal before,” Cerise commented as she wove the strands together. “No offence but it concerns me.”

  “Why?” Anya asked. She didn’t know if Trajan had told Cerise about their kisses the night before and wasn’t about to share it if he hadn’t.

  “Our kind and your kind are different sides of reality. It is unheard of and discouraged for any of us to get attached to mortals.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they die, or we kill them.”

  “Accidentally or on purpose?”

  “Pick one, honey. It is our job. I know you saw what he did to that creature. Doesn’t that frighten you?”

  “I would be stupid if it didn’t. But I think you are getting a little carried away.”

  “Oh am I?” she said haughtily.

  “Nothing has happened for you to be so concerned. He was good friends with all my relatives don’t forget.”

  “I haven’t forgotten but I can tell you right now, even though I have only known him sixty-five years I have never seen him look at anyone or anything like he looks at you. So don’t tell me it’s nothing, sweet pea.”

  “Is Katya okay?” Anya asked when Aleksandra had reappeared.