Cry of the Firebird (The Firebird Fairytales Book 1)

by Amy Kuivalainen

  “Anyanka, we meet at last,” he said, his voice holding touches of a Swedish accent. “I am Völundr.”

  “You are not who I was expecting,” she answered evenly.

  “You thought Vasilli had managed to catch you at last? Clearly he is more incompetent than I thought. I managed to catch you quite easily, didn’t I?”

  “What was that thing you sent after me?”

  “The Nehemoth? That was a trick of Ladislav’s. I am merely here in a delivery capacity. I intend you to be quite useful to me before I give you up.”

  “I am not going to help you with anything you sadistic bastard,” Anya spat. He grabbed her around the throat with a speed she didn’t anticipate. She clawed at his hands but he held her firm.

  “I may be under orders not to kill you Yanka’s blood but that does not mean I have to deliver you completely without damage.” He let go of her with a strong push that sent her back against the wall. She fell to her knees gasping for air. She felt a sharp stab in her neck and the last thing she saw was Völundr standing over her with a syringe.

  There was water dripping somewhere. The steady sound began pulling Anya from her heavily drugged state. The misty droplets from the rain outside were being blown through the unevenly boarded broken window. The Shishiga next to her was making soft mewing sounds like a kitten as the moisture in the air revived her.

  Anya clutched her head, a migraine already pressing in on her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she spotted the Ovinnik shivering and shrunken; rain and fire spirits weren’t happy bedfellows.

  “How long was I out?” Anya asked groggily. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls.

  “About eight hours,” the Shishiga said. “I wouldn’t fight them anymore. They will just keep putting poison into you.” Anya shook her numb hands. She felt a very low purr of magic under her skin. She stretched her hand out towards the large water bowl and it shifted a little off the boards. She had to have something to drink before her migraine worsened. She tried again and felt power trickle out of her. The bowl lifted a few centimetres off the floor and floated slowly over to her. Anya caught it and took a long sip. The water was stale but tasted good. Summoning what strength she had left, Anya floated the bowl over to the Shishiga. The creature took it and started to cry with relief.

  “They will know you did this,” she whispered.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Anya shrugged. “If you can escape, do it.” She watched as the Shishiga placed her manacled hands into the bowl. It seemed to Anya that they simply dissolved and rematerialised without the iron around them. She did her feet one at a time until she was free.

  “I won’t forget this Yanka’s blood,” she promised.

  “Just hurry before they catch you,” the Ovinnik urged. The Shishiga stood by the broken window where the rain poured through the gaps in the boards, dripped down the wall and pooled next to the Ovinnik. She stepped into the puddle and Anya gasped as she shone pale blue before melting into the water. The blue light pulsed as it went up the water on the walls, through the crack and disappeared.

  The awe of the moment was shattered as heavy footsteps and loud shouting echoed through the house.

  “Do you think she made it to the canal?” Anya asked.

  “I hope so because you may just regret helping her before the night is out.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she repeated as the door was kicked in. Anya got to her feet. She would not cower like the Ovinnik.

  “You vindictive little slut,” Völundr strode in and kicked the empty bowl across the room. “I don’t know how you did that but it seems I am going to have to up your doses.”

  “When is Vasilli going to get here?” she asked in a bored tone.

  “Why? Do you wish for death already?” He grabbed her face and squeezed it roughly.

  “No, not death,” she pulled her face away from him. “It just would be nice to deal with a professional with real power.” Anya expected the blow but it still rattled her. She managed to keep her feet though she had to prop herself against the wall.

  “I have real power and I would enjoy proving it if I wasn’t under orders from Ladislav. Oh I would delight in making you scream little girl. I am tempted to tell them early that I have you just to see what they are going to do to you.”

  “Why haven’t you told them that you have me already?” Anya wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “They would get here too quickly and I have a plan to make you useful to me before you go,” Völundr said softly, his personality completely altering and becoming gentle. He lightly touched her damaged face. “Don’t you see Anya? You are my bait.”

  “Bait for what?” Völundr smiled and Anya felt a heavy weight settle in her chest.

  “You are going to help me catch Death itself.”

  ***

  It had been twenty-four hours since Anya was taken and plans of the city littered the thick cream carpet in Trajan’s wing of the house. Isabelle had marked areas that she had been suspicious of but two had already come up empty. They had only just started to admit a need for sleep leaving only Trajan to pace. Yvan had barely spoken since they had discovered her gone and was angrier than Trajan had ever seen him. When Trajan had tried to speak privately with him Yvan had turned into the firebird and ignored him.

  “Have you slept at all?” Isabelle asked as she walked in.

  “Not exactly. Why aren’t you resting?” There was something about the hunter that just didn’t feel right to Trajan. Unlike other humans she was a blurred presence in his mind.

  “I don’t need a lot of sleep,” she admitted as she made herself comfortable on one of his couches.

  “Why is that Isabelle? What are you exactly?”

  “I am different and I am on your side.” There was a glint in her eye and Trajan decided not to push her.

  “Very well.”

  “Don’t let it worry you and compound the situation. The important thing is finding Anya. I am going to revisit some places I got a weird vibe from. I dismissed them at the time but they are worth checking.”

  “Thank you.”

  “They won’t hurt her, Trajan. She’s too valuable for that. They know what she can do and they won’t break her unless they have no other choice.”

  “I would like to say that your words give me comfort but it would be a lie.”

  “I know, but it doesn’t make them less true.” He watched her evenly, her violet eyes large and fierce. A blunt and beautiful woman and he could see why Hamish was so infatuated with her.

  “May I ask you something?” Trajan said as he sat down on one of plush chairs.

  “You may ask anything, though I may choose not to answer you.”

  “That is your right. But I was going to say, why did you leave Hamish the way you did?”

  “I was being hunted and they had seen me with Hamish. I couldn’t let them use him against me so I left.”

  “He thought you were dead. He said he found your bloody clothes.”

  “The bomb I didn’t expect. I was injured and I thought if I left some kind of evidence behind my enemies would be satisfied and leave Hamish alone.” The hard edges to her voice had softened fractionally.

  “He mourned you quite aggressively for many years, just so you are aware.”

  “Why are you telling me this? To make me feel guilty?”

  “I am not trying to make you feel guilty at all, Isabelle. I just want you to know because he will never tell you himself. Try to not be too hard on him. He is unsettled enough by your presence.”

  “I will try to keep that in mind.”

  “Did you really shoot him when you first met?” Trajan couldn’t resist asking.

  Isabelle’s lip curled in the slightest of smiles, “I put a bullet in his ass. That’s what you get when you run away from a fight.”

  Trajan had taken half of Isabelle’s list of addresses and whilst the others slept they left the mansion to walk the streets
of Paris. He had thought Isabelle would protest in someway, to talk him out of it. But he saw her severe independence and she seemed pleased to be doing something other than waiting for people to wake up.

  “Just promise me you will call me if you find anything,” she had said sternly as she passed him a card with her number printed on it. “Don’t go charging in.”

  “Only if you promise to do the same. You aren’t all human but that does not mean you are invincible.”

  “Deal,” she had smiled but for some reason Trajan knew Isabelle lied, just as she knew that he did. They wouldn’t risk waiting for back up. They would go and investigate for themselves before calling and wasting each others time if their hunch proved groundless.

  Trajan was walking along the Hauts-de-Seine making his way steadily towards one of the addresses on Isabelle’s list near Le Port-Marly when a flash of blue in the water caught his eye. At first he assumed it was a reflection in the afternoon sun. He paused as the small head of a woman bobbed up in front of him. He leant closer over the railings for a better look. She was definitely there but the other people walking past didn’t seem to notice her; without a doubt a supernatural of some sort but not one Trajan had ever seen.

  “Can you see me?” she asked tentatively, “What manner of creature are you?”

  “I can see you,” he affirmed. “I am a Thanatos, I don’t mean you any harm.”

  “Are you the Darkness?” she hissed, her beautiful face turning vicious.

  “No I am a neutral. Why? Have you seen the Darkness around here? You see, I am trying to find someone.”

  Something flashed over the water creature’s face, something akin to recognition. “Who is it that you are searching for?”

  “She is a woman about so tall,” Trajan indicated to where Anya’s head reached the groove of his chest. “She has very fair hair. Almost white. With green eyes.”

  “Yanka’s blood,” the woman said, her dark eyes wide, “She said you would be looking for her.”

  “You have seen Anya?” he asked eagerly, not caring to keep his voice lowered so passers-by didn’t think he was crazy. Maybe he was.

  “She helped me get free of them last night in the rain.” She looked like she was crying but there was so much water on her face it was difficult to tell. “She risked the evil one’s wrath and used her magic to get me to the water.” The creature began moving back and forth in distress.

  “That sounds like something Anya would do.”

  “I fear they would have punished her terribly for it. She shouldn’t have done it but I was so desperate, I was dying.”

  “Calm yourself. She would have known that she would pay for helping you. She still did it so do not feel guilty. Is this why you haven’t left Paris?”

  “I am a Shishiga. I owe her a life debt. I can’t leave until I have repaid her.”

  “Tell me where she is being kept. I can save her. Your debt will be repaid.”

  ***

  Anya had spent five hours chained to a wall in the main part of the house. Völundr no longer trusted her and he wasn’t about to lose another hostage. Her arms were shackled above her head this time and were aching incessantly. Her feet had been spread and shackled after she had kicked a guard who wandered too close to her. If she stood on tip toes it relieved the throbbing in her arms but only fractionally.

  The physical pain was hard to bear but having to see Völundr work was worse. She had watched him create his crow slaves with such a cruel efficiency, swapping their forms over and over again. This seemed to be something to entertain him while he waited. He had drawn a neat circle in chalk behind the door leading into the room and had decorated it in symbols Anya didn’t know or understand. When he started to cut himself Anya thought she would vomit. The brief tickle of magic she could still feel recoiled inside of her. She had been keeping quiet and seemingly drowsy so they thought she was still heavily sedated. She knew she couldn’t fool them though because every two hours an alarm would sound and Völundr would inject more into her.

  Anya had tried to mind link with Katya but her power was nowhere near strong enough and the drugs made sure she didn’t have a clear head. Falling in and out of consciousness she dreamt of the farm, of Eikki, of the firebird blazing in the night, Trajan smiling as he read aloud to her. Images of the last year of her life seemed to flow on repeat. She dreamt of things that could not be memories; Baba Yaga clack clacking at her loom, Yanka walking through the forest or picking herbs from her garden.

  Shouting and commotion in the house brought Anya out of her dream. The door on the other side of the room burst open and there he was; Trajan, full of fury. He instantly spotted her hanging from the wall.

  “Trajan, no!” she croaked desperately. Trajan had stepped into Völundr’s circle and was trapped. He tested the invisible walls and screamed as he was shocked violently.

  “Anya are you all right?” he asked.

  “Oh you know, the usual,” she replied and gave him a weak smile. “Just hanging out and waiting for my rescue.”

  “I apologise for not being better at it.”

  “I am glad you can admit that this was a ridiculous attempt.” Völundr appeared with a smile of triumph on his plain face. Anya struggled at her manacles, her hands itching to wipe the grin from his face. “Now, now Anya you know what happened last time you caused a fuss.”

  “He has nothing to do with this Völundr. It’s between Vasilli and me. Let him go.”

  “No.” Völundr walked slowly towards Trajan.

  “Your magic circle won’t hold me for long,” Trajan said, his voice changing, becoming deeper and distorted. The hair on Anya’s arms stood on end.

  “You don’t frighten me Thanatos,” Völundr hissed.

  “I should.” Völundr’s hand twisted and Trajan clutched his head.

  “Now Anya, you will see him for what he truly is!”

  “Stop it, please,” she begged as Trajan writhed in pain. Völundr didn’t seem to listen or care. Trajan’s clothes were melting under the power pouring from Völundr’s hands. Anya pulled frantically at her chains, trying desperately to touch her magic. She started screaming loud and piercing until a guard came into the room and hit her until the world went black.

  ***

  “I can’t believe he didn’t call me!” Isabelle shouted as she loaded weapons into her various holsters.

  “I can’t believe you let him go off on his own!” Hamish shouted back as he towered over her. “He never would have taken the time to call knowing Anya was there. Now they bloody have them both.”

  “Get out of my face,” Isabelle said through her teeth. “I have a copy of the list. We find them by a process of elimination.”

  “Will you two stop fighting,” Katya yelled over the top of them. “It’s not helping anyone and it’s wasting time. I will go ahead with the Twins and see if they can pick up any magical signatures. Get yourselves together and follow us.” She left them and joined Izrayl and the Twins in the car downstairs.

  “Cerise and Yvan are going to take some of the addresses on Trajan’s list,” Izrayl said calmly as they pulled out into the streets. “Cerise will stop him charging in like Trajan obviously has.”

  “It’s great that Anya has so many brave men on white horses but it’s a shame they can be so fucking idiotic at the same time.” Izrayl didn’t argue and Chayton, who knew her better and saw through her moods, squeezed her shoulder gently. Katya just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

  ***

  Anya was dreaming about sitting by the fire in her small farm house. Eikki was in a chair opposite to her and had a kantele on his lap. He was plucking the strings with well-practiced ease. As he started to sing in his husky strong voice Anya looked into the fire and let the familiar stories of the Kalevala wash over her. Steady old Väinämöinen, rune singer of unspeakable power, had been building a boat and wounded himself with an axe. He had found a grey beard healer to help him with the wound. Väinämöinen was telling th
e old man about the Origin of Iron when a sharp punch in the ribs woke her. Anya opened her eyes and wished she hadn’t.

  “Wake up Yanka’s blood,” Völundr kissed her busted lips softly. “Wake up and see what I have done.” Trajan, if she could still call him that, had been stripped completely of his human form. His skin was a dark grey and through blurry vision it looked like he had wings coming from his back made of smoke and shadows. He was covering his face but she saw his enlarged eyes were a deep dark red.

  “Let him go,” Anya whispered. “Stop this. I will give you anything.”

  “You already have. I wanted a Thanatos and now I have one.”

  “I am going to kill you for this Völundr,” Anya promised as a deep calm settled within her. She could feel her magic rising up through her. Being so preoccupied with torturing Trajan, Völundr had forgotten to inject her. He rattled her iron chains and laughed at her.

  “Oh brave Anya, you aren’t going to do a damn thing.” Her dream was coming back to her in hazy snippets. Eikki’s stories, the Origin of Iron, the Twins telling her how the old stories have power and truth in them. The Origin of Iron. Völundr had turned his attention back to Trajan so he didn’t see Anya find her feet and stand strong. He didn’t see her hands stretching out or the fury in her eyes when she looked at the iron around her wrists. Völundr was taunting his prey, telling Trajan in intimate detail what he was going to do to Anya, what Vasilli and Ladislav would do once they were told he had her. Anya’s power flared up through her fierce and hot, she opened her mouth and her words came out unhindered by any other thought in her mind;

  “Iron that binds me,

  Iron that pains me,

  Iron that holds me

  In cold cruel grasp.”

  “Remember your brother

  that frightening Fire.