Before I could protest I was pushed into what looked like a cell, the door instantly shut behind me with a loud click. I glanced around; the room was dark with no windows and only a small lit torch on one wall. There was a wooden bench to my left, a dirty sink with a mirror above it, and nothing much else. I waited for a moment, my thoughts frantic.
It wasn’t long before the door opened again and someone stepped through.
It was a man. As the light hit his familiar face a hundred memories gushed into my head, the most prominent being of fear and abuse. I remembered hiding under the staircase in a great palace, listening to see whether or not the screaming had stopped. I gasped in understanding. He was my father.
I didn’t know what I’d expected, but I never thought he would look quite so much like me. His eyes were the identical to mine in shape, but where mine were solid black his were golden in the middle then turned black at the perimeter. We shared the same high prominent cheekbones and strong nose; though his skin was darker with more freckles; a deceptively innocent face. His hair wasn’t like mine; rather his was so blonde it looked white.
I stared at him for what seemed a long time, unable to tear my eyes away. My heart was thumping uncomfortably, what was I supposed to do? He was the very reason my mother had fled in the first place. That must mean something. Now I was facing him. What do I do, what do I say?
He scrutinised me intently before frowning, “You seem familiar, but it’s been a long time, you can’t surely be my child.” His voice was beautiful, but he wasn’t talking to me. He was merely speaking his thoughts aloud. “Is it you?” he wondered, “Speak!” He demanded with a sudden deadly authority. Lynk, that was his name, I remembered.
My name is Ruby, I said slowly, my mindvoice quivering slightly.
“I don’t believe you,” he said, “Change.”
How? I asked pathetically. I didn’t know how to Change.
He spoke impatiently “You need to think of fire, your element. Feel it flicker inside you, and then use it to Change yourself. You’ll know what to do.”
I, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so convinced.
I closed my eyes and did as I was told. I thought of fire. It didn’t work.
“You’re not doing it right,” Lynk said.
Well, you tell me how, I snapped, my emotions everywhere at the sight of him and my frustration in my inability to Change.
“Try something different,” He offered coldly. “I take it you’re only just getting used to the idea of being a Phoenix so your element won’t have much of an effect on you,” he explained sharply. “Try thinking of something important to you; something that gives you a reason to be human again.” He walked to the door. “I’ll give you a minute. There are clothes near the sink.”
Once he was gone I tried to calm my nerves and focus. I closed my eyes again, thinking about the Ashaiks, of how much they’d helped me. Now I needed to be human to help them. With the strength of that in mind I felt a flicker of something. I needed to help them. I could help them. The flicker ignited into a spark. I followed the spark, drawing it up through my system, the way one might pull a tree root from the ground. The feeling of hot water trickled down my spine, filling me with wonderful heat and energy. I felt it tingling through me, almost painfully, like when you first get into a steaming shower on a freezing winter day.
A sudden blinding agony raced through me. I moaned in pain and shock, feeling my body shrink, muscles contracting into smaller fragments, squeezing together. The power disappeared. I opened my eyes, subsequently exhausted. The pain slowly ebbed away. My body shook uncontrollably.
I staggered awkwardly over to the sink, pulling on a plain shapeless dress made of a hideous black material that itched and hung, miles too big, away from my body. I looked up, just catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
I stopped, looked again and drew a sharp surprised breath.
I’d always looked young for my age. Now though, I seemed to have aged five years since yesterday. My face had changed shape, my cheekbones growing higher underneath long framing eyelashes. My eyes had completely transformed in colour. They weren’t coal black anymore, rather they were identical to Lynks; golden yellow iris fringed with ebony. It was shocking, but that wasn’t all that had changed. My hair had brightened to a startling red, streaked with highlights; it looked dyed, no natural hair surely was so crimson? Golden freckles now coated every single plain of my skin, like fallen autumn leaves; I was glowing; an incandescent reincarnation of fire.
My body had matured too; I had a more voluptuous shape now. My hips had widened slightly, my waist narrowing and legs lengthening. And, for the first time in my entire life I actually had a decent set of boobs. My tattoos had appeared again too, those strange miraculous marks that had first appeared as I began the Change. I could see the full extent of them now, spiralling patterns that began at the base of my back, up to my neck, across my shoulders and down my right arm. They were darker than I remembered, definitely black, but shimmering with gold dust only if they caught the light. I was surprised how much I liked them, the design, my design was beautiful.
The sound of knocking brought me back to reality, Lynk didn’t wait for an answer. Returning my gaze to him, standing in the doorway, he was examining my face like an artist. “Come with me,” he finally uttered.
I followed him out of the tiny room, my bare feet treading carefully over the freezing wooden flooring. He took me through another door and I breathed a sigh of relief. Briseis, Adrian, Nik, Chara and Kieran were inside.
Then my stomach dropped, that was a bad thing.
They stood together in the middle of the room, encircled by guards and important-looking people on big high-backed chairs, one of which Lynk immediately sat on. Everyone stared at me, but I only saw my friend’s hands; chained together in large metal cuffs.
“About time,” I head Kieran’s voice grumble. “I’m so very bored.”
“Is this the girl you speak of?” said an ancient, powerful voice. I turned towards the direction of the voice and saw an old man with white hair and eyes so blue you could drown in them.
“That’s her, Lord,” Nikolas told him, his face alight with relief.
“I’m Ruby,” I confirmed; the foreign words tumbling off my tongue impulsively. I walked quietly over to the others. Looking at the trapping metal shackles, I noticed swirling symbols that glowed fiercely. I shuddered.
“Well Lynk, is that her?” the old man asked.
Without shifting those topaz eyes from my topaz eyes, he spoke. “She’s my daughter, Declan,” he told the old man apathetically. “Those eyes are mine.”
I stared at the floor, hearing sharp intakes of breath. I fiddled nervously with the edge of the oversized dress, yanking it down.
“Well,” said the old man, Declan, grudgingly and involuntarily, “that changes things. You can go.” He nodded at Chara, Adrian, Bris and Nik. They were roughly shoved aside by the Warriors who’d brought me here. “Because, as Kieran rightly pointed out, there isn’t actually a law about leaving the Island, only about breaking the wards and then leaving the Island. And since you didn’t actually break any wards; I guess we can’t prove you actually left.”
Kieran leaned over to whisper with an annoying grin, “He says ‘actually’ a lot doesn’t he?”
“You two, however, attacked guards.” Declan turned on us. “Do you know what the consequence of that is?” his eyes darted mercurially to Kieran, “You should remember from last time, Kierakai, and the time before.”
Kieran smiled darkly, “Fine and punishment, or confinement.”
The man nodded, “That’s right, and what would you prefer?” he spoke patronisingly, like he was talking down to a child. Kieran needed to stay calm, or we’d just end up in worse trouble.
“Option three.” He decided, eyebrows rising hopefully.
Declan’s eyes narrowed marginally, “And what’s that?” Declan inquired.
“That you let us g
o because, obviously, we had no choice but to do what we did.” He glanced meaningfully at Lynk, “Otherwise Ruby would have died at your gates and you would have been responsible for the death of a Fledgling.” I did die, I thought, I just didn’t stay dead. “A Royal Fledgling as well,” he emphasised. I glanced over at him in surprise; Royal? What? “Plus I didn’t kill anyone and that white bitch had it coming.” He smirked mischievously and I was tempted to stand on his foot.
“That white bitch,” snapped another Air Elder, his hair as transparent as his irises, “is my daughter.”
Kieran just seemed amused, “That’s your misfortune.”
Another man, around fifty with salt and pepper hair, leant forwards. His skin was brown with that everlasting tan only acquired hereditably. His eyes were so dark green they looked as black as Adrian’s. “How about you stop smiling, Kierakai,” – he almost spat the word - “and pick an option or I will.”
“But a smile makes you look more attractive,” Kieran objected, grinning happily. Then he frowned, his forehead creasing, “though, judging by your face, you didn’t know that, did you?”
The man gritted his teeth, “I would have thought that after all these years, Kierakai; you might have learnt some manners.”
“Manners are for people who deserve them,” Kieran snapped. I turned and looked at him in horror but he continued, “And I’m not going to the jail,” he confirmed with clarity. “I’m too pretty to go to jail; I’d like to keep my anal virginity intact, thank you.”
I nodded in agreement; the other option didn’t seem that bad.
“The fine will be three hundred half-sapphires. Each,” spoke up someone.
Kieran paused, “And if we can’t pay that?” he smiled, “I doubt my lovely father will bail me out.”
There was a brief, intense silence.
“We could take it in feathers,” the old Earthbird smiled sadistically.
“I don’t think even I could pull off the bald look.” Kieran said thoughtfully.
Luckily someone else suggested, “You could work it off?” It was a woman with blue and silver hair. “We need an ice sculptor for the Winter Festival. I remember your work from childhood Kierakai; and you are certainly qualified,” she added meaningfully, her blue eyes sparkling.
“What about the girl?” someone else asked.
The woman turned to me. “She has a voice gift, why not use her at the Winter Festival as well? Our singer pulled out yesterday; it’s perfect.”
Before I could respond Lynk interrupted, “She needs to learn to control herself anyway, or we’ll have even more catastrophes. We might as well start immediately,” he told the lady, his voice was spectacularly persuasive.
The woman smiled in agreement, shooting an almost smug look at the dark man with salt-and-pepper hair. “So it’s settled then, you shall both be involved in the Winter Festival and therefore repay your fines.”
Great. Before I could respectably protest, Kieran said silkily to the woman, “Thank you Lady, we accept your generous offer.” He smiled flirtatiously.
“But I can’t-“I began hastily.
“-Shut up,” Kieran hissed under his breath. “Do you want your feathers pulled out? We aren’t pigeons; our feathers grow from the bone.”
Kieran grumbled. “So,” he wondered curiously, “what’s on the punishment agenda today?”
It was the dark Earthbird’s turn to smirk, “Surely you remember Tulbeck?”
Kieran smiled in mock joy, “How could I forget.”
My skin prickled anxiously. I was confused.
The man with greying black hair clicked his fingers expectantly, a mean almost-sadistic smile creeping onto his lips.
“How deep?” Kieran asked indifferently. What was happening?
The Council Members talked briefly among themselves, and when they turned back to us, Declan answered, “Three each.”
Kieran hesitated calculatingly, his eyes shifting from person to person.
“Three what?” I muttered to him.
Kieran ignored me completely. “I take it that it doesn’t matter who takes it, as long as the punishment has been fulfilled?” His voice was way too nonchalant. What was he planning? Why wasn’t he explaining anything?
Declan’s eyebrows furrowed suspiciously. “What are you getting at?”
Kieran shrugged casually, “I’m making an offer,” he slowly took a fraction of a step towards Lynk. Their eyes locked, “To take hers. None of this is her fault, and she doesn’t deserve it,” he explained factually.
Without the briefest hesitation Lynk responded, “And what do you benefit from this, Kierakai?” he inquired sceptically.
“Peace of mind. And that’s not my name.”
“Done,” Lynk confirmed, and seemed to relax slightly.
I frowned incomprehensively at Kieran. Not understanding any of the arrangement. “What did you just do?” I wondered bewilderedly.
Kieran avoided my eyes as a warrior came forwards, laying down a large sheet made from a coarse red material. Kieran kneeled on the fabric, facing the only open window in the room; it was more a balcony than a window.
“Kieran,” I called demandingly. What was he doing?
It was only then that I noticed a man on the balcony. He turned and walked with an unnecessary slowness towards Kieran. He was absolutely gigantic, way over six feet tall, at least. He had hair that was diaphanously silver, cold grey eyes and an unfathomable expression.
“Hello, my psycho friend,” Kieran greeted cheerfully, “guess who came to visit you?”
The man appraised Kieran with an intrigued, almost lascivious study, but said nothing. My vision then directed itself to the strange curved device grasped in the man’s right hand. It was black but had the texture of bone and it took me a few seconds to realise that it was the sharp bladelike bone from the tip of a skeletal Phoenix wing. The bone appeared to be polished to a dangerous point that I knew could cut glass. Suddenly I knew what was about to happen and I sprang forwards.
Hands roughly grabbed me, yanking my wrists back and forcing them through imprisoning shackles. I pulled and wrestled against the chains. The symbols on the handcuffs glowed electrically when I moved, slowly starting to burn, charring my skin. More arms held me back now in an unbreakable restraint. I kicked out ineffectively, screaming until somebody gagged me.
“I missed these special moments with you,” Kieran smiled.
Two guards came forwards carrying a piece of wood. The man brought up the wing bone, slashing once at the wood. It snapped in half.
“There’s no need to show off,” Kieran muttered.
I couldn’t believe this was a punishment. I missed England. What century did these people live in? Hadn’t they heard of ethical punishment?
Wordlessly the man moved behind him…
I screamed again with renewed force, almost choking on the cloth in my mouth, battering against the arms that contained me. I tried desperately to break the lock chaining me. Eventually I cried in frustration, I couldn’t stop it.
I clamped my eyes tightly shut. I winced at the sound, the brutal slicing of flesh, feeling revolted as the scent of blood wafted to my nostrils. I couldn’t open my eyes. I was afraid to look but I knew what was happening.
That vindictive monster was slicing that deadly wing bone down Kieran’s back; digging inches deep. Kieran made no noise as the instrument gouged though his skin with a professional precision. He was probably drawing a symbol that represented his crime. I held my breath.
I felt sick when I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer. I didn’t look at the blood pouring from the fresh crevices on Kieran’s back, splattering across his shredded shirt and streaming down to the red sheet.
I saw Kieran’s vacant eyes and was suddenly even more scared.
Chapter Eleven
“You will receive all the information about your work placements by messenger. I assume you’ll have a place to stay,” Declan stated, his voice slower now, lazi
er; apparently the exciting part had finished.
Kieran shakily stood up, wincing in pain he staggered slightly; Kieran who never trips or falls and is constantly graceful, staggered. He straightened up, precariously tilted, nodding sharply.
“Well,” continued Declan indifferently, “we’ll expect notifications on your living arrangements as soon as possible. If you don’t inform us within the next twenty-four hours we won’t be letting you off so lightly again.” He warned. I scoffed mentally, glancing at the indignant stripes across Kieran’s back, immersed in blood. That was light?
“You can go,” Declan dismissed authoritatively.
Silently the guards released me. Unlocking the fiercely glowing shackles; my wrists had blistering sores from where I’d attempted to wrench free. I rubbed the charred skin, feeling the ribbed scabs already forming. God I healed fast now, or maybe it was just an effect from the handcuffs.
Walking over to Kieran, he met my eyes. A look passed between us, a glance that told me we needed to go, now.
“Wait,” I heard a voice behind us command, “You don’t think you’ll get away that easily do you?” We froze in synchrony. It was Lynk.
I turned around, looking at Lynk; my father. God, that was weird to think. He was smiling, but it had a distinct edge, “Now you’ve Changed we shall have to have a little celebration, won’t we?” I glanced over at Kieran in confusion but Lynk continued, “It’s tradition that a High Daughter of the Ashes should provide a great celebration for her First Fledged Flight. Don’t worry though,” he added with that suspicious smile, “I shall arrange everything; after all, you are my daughter.”
I stared at him uncomfortably; the look in his eyes frightened me.
“Tomorrow night,” he concluded. “We’ll have it then.” He looked over at me one last unnerving time before dismissing us.
We sluggishly made our way to the spiral staircase, carefully trudging our way down. Eventually we exited the building. I breathed in the cold, crisp air which wound up my bare legs. It was at that point that I remembered I had no shoes. Today was just getting better and better. Kieran was staring at me, amused at my appearance; focussing on my hideous ill-fitting dress no doubt.
Ashes (The Firebird Trilogy Book 1) Page 12
