Ashes (The Firebird Trilogy Book 1)

by Stephanie Harbon

  He twisted his neck to the side, searching. All I could see was a banister draped in rich purple fabric and an ancient-looking ceiling painted with Fire Phoenix. Kieran turned back to me, recapturing my attention. “There’s another set of stairs just to the side of us, but we need a distraction.”

  I thought for a moment, noticing that the lights running along the banisters were lit with burning torches. “I have an idea,” I announced softly.

  Kieran gestured for me to go for it and I took a breath, unsure that it would even work. I remembered what Jayson had said about manipulating evoked fire; once it was there it was easily manoeuvred. I followed my instincts, focussing on those flames, finding the power within me to make them bigger. Shaping my hands accordingly, the burning embers expanded so much that the flames caught on the material draped over the banister. Pretty soon the whole banister was burning.

  I heard a shuffle of footsteps and some annoyed grumblings from down the corridor. Kieran waited, checking, then nodded and we both ran for the stairs.

  Clambering up the narrow carpeted steps as quietly as possible we hesitated at another door. Kieran listened intently for a millisecond then swung it open. We entered what seemed to be another theatre balcony. Most importantly, there were no guards.

  I paused to catch my breath, but abruptly Kieran yanked me down to the floor. Crouching low, he looked purposefully through a gap between the golden but grubby banister. I followed his line of vision, shuddering.

  Down at the very bottom of the room -this floor must have an extension of the roof-was a circle of about twenty ancient-looking chairs. Sat in the chairs were a mixture of human Phoenix and those terrifying Daemon half-breeds. I shivered as I recognised the monsters. Their bat-like wings were leathery, their white skulls and purple eyes were even more piercing than before. Barlayic, Daemons, or half-breeds, whatever you called them they were horrifying. Even Kieran had frozen into stunned immobility.

  I soon realised why. His voice was bitterly low, “My father’s down there.”

  I glanced over at the men and sure enough noticed Kieran’s salt-and-pepper haired father. I glanced at Kieran, his face was darkly apathetic.

  I watched as a group of guards entered below, dragging a screaming woman and belligerently throwing her to the ground before Lynk.

  She was stripped of her clothes, her entire body covered in dirty marks, burns, bruises and unhealed injuries; some still bleeding and oozing grimy yellow pus. Her long red hair had been repeatedly ripped from her head; intermittent patches of her scalp were visible, inflamed with bright swollen blisters. As she struggled to sit up, I saw the frail exposed bones move in her back. She was dangerously thin, most likely starved; reminding me in that moment of the wolf Lynk had once brought me to break.

  The worst thing about her was her face. Her eyes had been taken. The sockets were empty; gruesomely black and rotting from neglect.

  What had they done to her?

  Lynk suddenly spoke up. I didn’t think I could possibly hate him any more than I now did. He said calmly, “This is the last time I am going to ask you. What have you done with the Ephizon Metovah key?”

  The poor woman trembled at the sound of his voice, swayed weakly, but she spat with honourable bravery, “I’d rather die than let you have it.”

  Lynk sighed impatiently; grumbling, “That can be arranged.” He turned to the guards and nodded. Automatically they sprung forwards, grabbing her bony shoulders. Lynk got up and walked towards her, his golden eyes cold and calculating. “Eventually your walls will crumble,” he warned the woman. “You’re weak now; you won’t be able to ignore my power for much longer. I suggest you just get it over and done with and tell me now.”

  Her head was bent forwards but I heard her response, “Kill me.”

  Lynk laughed humourlessly, “Why would I kill you? I still need you.”

  She didn’t answer; she looked too exhausted to try.

  One of the men in the chairs spoke with an annoyed, hostile voice. “Lynk, we won’t be a part of your alliance and your plans unless we get something in return. We want access to the Eternal Light. If you cannot get it, then we shall leave.” He glared, “You are wasting our time.”

  “You forget that once we get to the Eternal Light,” he glanced over at the man poisonously, “we still need to unlock it.”

  “I’ll be dead before I give it to you,” screamed the woman suddenly.

  Lynk smiled in a frightening sadistic way, “Who said anything about giving?”

  His voice changed then, dipping in a way that was terrible to hear.

  He was like a force of nature. I could hear the complexity of the tones he was using, so subtle to normal ears. Because I shared his destructive ability, I could feel it as the barriers protecting her mind and soul gradually weakened, losing the battle, as he spoke. The siren call always wins in the end.

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” I asked Kieran quietly, hearing the sadness in my voice. He shook his head; we both knew the inevitable.

  I tried to block my ears, but the sound was too much, too beautiful, too obtrusive. Vigorously foreign words spilled from Lynk’s lips, jabbing at the pitifully defending girl. The sound cut through her feeble shields, finally slipping into her weakened system. It was too late now. My heart sank.

  That one significant lapse in concentration cost her the one thing she’d kept safely behind her careful barriers. She was too weak to continue struggling. They’d literally beaten the will –and the life-out of her.

  Lynk viciously grasped tighter; effortlessly now. It was nearly over. I could hear her answer as clearly as if she were screaming it.

  She whispered brokenly, “I swallowed it.”

  The guards released her roughly. I watched as she bent over, gasping. The look on her ruined face confirmed what I’d already gathered; she’d surrendered. And Lynk was going to cut the key out of her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I hated Lynk. I hated what he did with his voice. I hated what he did to that woman, and hated that she wasn’t his first victim. But most of all, I hated knowing I could do exactly what he could. I made a promise to myself in that moment. From that point on, I would never use my voice to influence or control another person without their permission. Whether just to make them sleep, or just to get information. I would not become my father.

  “Bane,” Lynk called. One of the hunched, winged monsters stepped forwards with an evil animalistic grin across its Daemon face.

  “Yes?” Its voice was gruff and intemperate; barely understandable.

  “The Metovah key is inside our little friend here,” he explained nonchalantly, gesturing towards the woman on the floor, quaking with terrified convulsions. “Would you extract if for me?”

  The beast’s raking nails scuffed the floor as it purposefully made its way over to the petrified girl. “Yes,” it growled.

  I knew what was going to happen, but I couldn’t keep from looking.

  I watched in horror as the creature snarled with a mouthful of razor-sharp bloodstained teeth. The woman screamed. My insides squirmed, revolted, my blood curdling in sickened anticipation. The monster growled menacingly, bolting forwards in a blur of brown flesh and scraggily deformed wings.

  I looked away, scared and disgusted, a sick feeling sloshing in my stomach. I closed my eyes tightly as the girl was brutally shredded apart. Her anguished wails soon subsided, silence fell like nightfall.

  The girl’s pale, starved body was still and lifeless. A gaping hole severed the flesh of her stomach, pooling crimson blood around her body like a gruesome halo. I felt absolutely sick. They’d savagely murdered her: for a key.

  When I heard Lynk say a smooth thank you, I wanted to jump down there and rip his head off. I was so angry. I couldn’t believe I was related to this…to this…monster. But Kieran roughly yanked me back down.

  “What are you doing,” he hissed furiously, “Look at that.” He pointed to the dead, disembowelled woman. She
was now being examined by the other half-breeds with hungry eyes. I gagged. “Do you want to end up like that?”

  Something flickered in the corner of my vision, instantaneously capturing my attention. Whirling my neck around, I caught a glimpse of Kieran making as if to stand-but it was happening too quickly. The only thing my hesitant brain registered was the six pairs of cold fierce eyes that surrounded me.

  My reactions eventually kicked in.

  A hand roughly grabbed my shoulder. Instinctively I swiped it away and ducked under another man’s arm, blindingly fast, to scramble out of reach of the restraining arms. Somehow I was on the far side of the room, staring at six Fire warriors. How did I manage to get out of that?

  I glanced to my side, where I expected Kieran to be, but he wasn’t there. Mercurially my eyes darted around until I spotted him. My heart sunk in my chest, mortal panic seizing my senses. He was handcuffed with those marked wrist clamps to the dusty brass banister. They’d targeted the main threat first, that’s how I’d gotten away.

  “How did this happen?” he wondered confusedly to himself. Amazed, he twisted his captured wrist but the runes on the shackles glowed, burning. He frowned, crinkling his forehead.

  All the while the guards were shuffling forwards, malevolence glinting like flint in their eyes. At any moment they would spring forwards and I would either fight or surrender. And it wasn’t in me to quit.

  “Never mind that,” I answered Kieran sharply, “what do I do?”

  Kieran was yanking unsuccessfully at the chains with a lazy, composed expression. Like this was merely annoying him. He shrugged casually, “Make sure they don’t go running off and telling Lynk we’re here. And be quiet about it; they’re not exactly out of earshot.”

  “Okay. Sure,” I muttered, gulping. “Thanks for the help.”

  Quickly reaching down to grasp Jayson’s blade, I realised with another flourish of panic that it wasn’t there. It was still in the torture chamber.

  Many things happened at once then; Kieran sighed impatiently, the warriors pulled their blades from their belts, two ran forwards at me. Acting on pure instinct alone, I dodged back. From the corner of my eye I saw Kieran flick his free wrist. The sound of metal flying through the air penetrated my terrified system. Suddenly the two warriors running dropped to the floor limply. Instantly I bent down to retrieve their curved blades, clutching them tightly in both hands.

  Trying not to look at the metal embedded in the men’s throats, shaped like half a yin and yang symbol, I breathed deeply as more warriors sprung closer.

  “There,” I heard Kieran say, “Don’t ever say I don’t help you.”

  The tallest warrior swept forwards. He was fast but clumsy as he thrust his sword. I turned to the side. The blade missed me. The strike was slightly off centre. I pulled one of the heavy blades up and slashed it across his throat in a motion astonishingly natural. He staggered as I kicked him in his stomach forcefully, blood immediately spilling from his injury. He coughed flecks of red, his face turning purple as he struggled to breathe.

  I didn’t have time to feel shocked or disgusted at myself because three more men were running at me. Once again, my instincts worked for me. I blocked the first blade, knocking it hard to the side. The second one was aimed high and I swept my arm up to protect my head. The clash of metal rang loud. I knew that if we didn’t quieten down Lynk and his fellow monsters would hear.

  The first and third guard moved in synchrony, both aiming for my heart. I whirled around to get out of range. Ducking slightly I reached out to swipe at one of the guards; they blocked effortlessly and attacked again. One of the Gaborah blades was knocked from my grasp. Swords were flying at me from all different angles. I was struggling to keep going. They were too fast. I was too inexperienced.

  Suddenly one man broke off from the fight, running towards the door, presumably to fetch assistance. That wasn’t good. I did the only thing I could, I threw my only defence. Fortunately, by some impossible miracle, it aimed true and stuck him in his back. I had no idea how it hit him, but it did, and he tumbled to the floor. Panicked, I glanced back at the remaining warriors.

  Shit, now I had no weapon.

  “That was clever,” Kieran said sarcastically, leaning casually against the railing. “Why don’t you just use Chyun’ju, if you’re so amazing at it?”

  “I can’t,” I said, backing as far away as possible. The warriors slowly crept after me. Soon my back was pressed tightly against a wall. I had no escape. I couldn’t even think. I didn’t know what to do.

  “Do I have to do everything?” Kieran murmured, stretching across to a dead body to reach a stainless sword. I didn’t see as he raised it high with his free left hand –I was a little occupied-but I certainly heard as he sent the weapon hurtling through the golden railing he was shackled to.

  Lynk would have heard that.

  But Kieran was free now and running towards me as I fought desperately in the corner. One man turned as he approached, giving me the opportunity to lash at him. The man quickly blocked but now Kieran was upon us. Swiftly slashing, stabbing; his face was an unimpressionable mask.

  Relief flooded into me as the last man fell under Kieran’s graceful lances, but fear soon returned when I heard the sound of footsteps running up the stairs.

  The door was opening. Kieran and I looked at each other, and then bolted to the other set of stairs. We ran so fast I nearly fell. We emerged in that empty hallway. Angry shouts echoed behind me. They were close. Slamming the door behind me, we raced down the corridor like lightning.

  My heart was pounding so fast. I could hear running footsteps behind us, not too distantly either. Adrenalin gushed through my veins like rapids, pumping blood too fast and making my head spin. When I saw the open door that lead into that dark, creepy torture chamber, I realised I needed my blade. If Lynk saw it he might recognise it.

  Without hesitation I bolted inside the room, grabbed the knife and ran out again. Charging down the hallway we came to the right door. We needed to get out of there, fast.

  Kieran threw something at the glass balcony door and it smashed instantly, providing us with an easily accessible exit. We both ran through the hole, recklessly leaping off the balcony. In the milliseconds it took to fall, I grabbed on to the ledge of my own balcony, feeling the force of gravity wrenching my arms painfully. A blinding burst of pain shot through me, I’d possibly dislocated my shoulder. Luckily a familiar hand was there, hauling me over the railing an instant before I heard startled activity above.

  Kieran dragged me into my room, gently sliding the glass door behind him. Voices faded outside but footsteps still creaked the floorboards above me. I felt it when the guards outside awoke from the noise.

  “Kieran you need to hide, Lynk will probably check on me.” I whispered urgently. He nodded in understanding, automatically crawling under my four poster bed; shielding himself under the lacy material.

  I dressed in my nightclothes frantically, hiding the bloody evidence, and then jumped into bed underneath the sheets with my heart pounding. Drawing the semi-sheer curtains around my bed so the scene looked normal, I waited silently. I heard more creaks of the floorboards above me, and I closed my terrified eyes, my pulse still thumping erratically. Eventually the noises died down, but I heard movement outside my door.

  Pretending I was sound asleep -while I was actually more alive than I ever had been before-I heard the sound of Lynk’s voice filtering through my door. He was talking to my guards, asking if I’d left the room at all. Lynk sounded unbelievably suspicious. My heart skipped a beat. Sweat pearls formed on the back of my neck, grossly mingling in the strands of my tied hair.

  I didn’t hear Kian’s grunt of a response, but I heard when the door quietly pulled open. My eyes stayed firmly shut. I tried desperately to keep my breathing slow and even. Eventually I heard the door softly click shut and Lynk murmuring to Kian to watch me. I waited five minutes, still pretending to be unconscious, before I cautious
ly peeped through my eyelashes. I sighed inaudibly in relief.

  I reached down to grab a handful of the material that scrunched up around the bottom of my bed, pulling it up so Kieran could climb out from under the mattress. Only when I caught the sight of my fingernails did I realise that they were crusted with dry blood; blood that wasn’t my own.

  Reality whacked into me like a ton of bricks. I had killed people. I had killed men with families. Their blood still clung to my fingers. Lynk would find out. Somehow he would know it was me. He was already suspicious; he knows but doesn’t have any proof. He could find evidence.

  All I could think of was those warriors’ dead faces; that woman’s excruciated screams, those terrible creatures, and the fact that Phoenix were probably trying to track us right now. My head was a mixture of incomprehensible images, of sounds I didn’t want to hear and yet were recurring over and over; screams, shouts, songs.

  Lynk knows and he will kill me.

  Or he would get his monsters to do it for him.

  I could feel my body violently shaking in panicked, frightened convulsion. I had killed innocent people. I was no better than Lynk.

  Distantly I felt hands on my face, warm hands, but they couldn’t bring me back from the nightmare inside my own head. I was vaguely aware that Kieran was speaking, but I couldn’t understand. I looked down at my hands, still stained with red, realising that they were cold, extremely cold. My entire body felt icy and empty.

  Arms were suddenly wrapped around me, lifting me into the bathroom. I didn’t respond. Kieran sat me down carefully so I was leaning with my back pressed against the bath. Watching numbly as he turned on the sink tap, I saw water spill out, filling the bowl. Swirling clouds of steam wafted up. Kieran grabbed a cloth, dipped it into the pool of water, then cautiously dabbed the material against my hands, wiping away the blood and grime tenderly, like I was a child who’d accidentally grazed my hands. I felt dirty and disgusting, utterly revolted by myself. Sweat matted my hair in a horrid repulsive mess.