Wildfire Phoenix

by Zoe Chant

  Fenrir chuckled. “Know. Felt it, even though wasn’t there. All of us did, even the cubs. Think it might have been felt all the way around the world.”

  “I’m happy not to have been there in person,” Darcy said. She gave a theatrical shudder. “One close encounter with Uncegila was quite enough for me, thanks. Is she really gone for good?”

  “Zephyr says so,” Blaise replied. “Though he thinks the horned serpents are still lurking, in whatever pit they call home. But Uncegila was the brains behind the operation. They won’t be nearly so much of a threat, now. Some of them might still try to crawl up for a snack sometimes, though.”

  “And if they do?” Rory asked. “Can we count on the Thunderbird to deal with them?”

  Blaise raised her eyebrows at her old friend. “Ask him yourself. He’s right over there.”

  Hugh and Ash came in, their arrival instantly capturing everyone’s attention. All across the hall, heads turned, conversation falling silent.

  “I,” Hugh announced into the expectant hush, “would commit murder for a cup of tea.”

  “No need.” Rose handed him a steaming mug. “Which is just as well, since you’re the one who’d have to revive your own victim. Did you sort everyone out?”

  “I’ve healed the crew’s injuries.” Hugh took a huge gulp of tea, waving one hand in Ash’s direction. “But I only fix bodies. You’ll have to ask him about the rest.”

  “Please tell me I’m not going to have two whole squads rocking in the corner gibbering about giant snakes,” Buck said.

  “I have burned the traumatic memories from their minds,” Ash replied. “Some of your firefighters appeared a little confused, though. It is possible that some traces of the experience may linger in their dreams, beyond my ability to remove. My strength is not what it once was.”

  “Do you think it’ll come back?” Chase asked. “Your full power, I mean.”

  “Perhaps, in time.” Ash shook his head. “But I think not. This new fire within me is bright, but it does not burn so hot. I am still a phoenix, but not the Phoenix.”

  Rose took his hand, threading her fingers through his. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. You never complained, but having all that power was as much a burden as a gift.”

  “It is lonely, to be the only one of your kind.” Ash looked over at Blaise, and smiled. “I am glad that is no longer the case.”

  “So now there are two…” Chase stopped, scratching his curly head. “Wait. What’s the plural of phoenix?”

  “Phoenixes,” Virginia supplied, and then frowned. “I think. It’s not something I’ve ever really had to consider before.”

  “We’re so used to there only being one phoenix,” Hayley said. “It’s going to be strange to have two around.”

  Maybe more than two, Blaise thought. Her father caught her eye, and his smile widened, just a little. She knew he was also remembering how those gleaming fragments had scattered.

  “All it takes is a spark,” she murmured.

  “What?” Edith asked.

  “Never mind.” Time would tell whether any of those scattered embers would kindle in other souls. “I guess everything’s back to normal, or at least the new normal.”

  “Except that I have to come up with an excuse for the training grounds looking like someone staged a full scale re-enactment of the Battle of the Somme,” Buck muttered. “Motherloving shifters. Even with their memories wiped, the rest of the crew are still going to notice that the next time we go out on a hike.”

  “Then there’s no choice but to cancel all training drills until the trees regrow,” Joe said, sounding the opposite of crestfallen at this prospect. “Alas.”

  “I think we can do better than that,” Candice said. “Leave it with me, Buck. I’ll talk to the unicorn herd. Some of them can regrow plants, and others are good at moving things. I bet they can have everything back in order in no time.”

  Joe gave her a look of tragic betrayal.

  “Sounds good,” Buck said, rather grudgingly. “But for dog’s sake, do me a favor and keep an eye on them, Candice. Don’t let them use their initiative when it comes to making ‘improvements.’ The last thing I need are crystal monoliths cluttering up the place, or whatever unicorns consider to be tasteful home decor.”

  “Speaking of home, we need to be getting back,” Neridia said. She pursed her lips. “The knights are probably on the verge of mounting a full scale land invasion by now.”

  Seren blinked at her Empress. “You… did not inform your guards that you were coming here?”

  Neridia waved an unconcerned hand. “By the time I overruled all the polite objections and formal statements of dissent, Uncegila would have swallowed Thunder Mountain and gone looking for dessert. So I left a note.”

  “Mom!” Blaise had never before seen Joe look utterly scandalized. “You snuck out?”

  Neridia’s sea-blue eyes sparkled at her son. “It was rather enjoyable, actually. I understand now why you were so fond of slipping away from your guards, when you were younger.”

  “Please do not take it up as a hobby,” John murmured. “For my sake. I am the Imperial Champion. I am supposed to be setting a good example, not climbing down knotted bedsheets in the middle of the night.”

  Griff chuckled. “The rest of us should head off too. Some of us have to go to work in the morning.”

  “Including us,” Rory said, to general groans from the rest of A-squad. “The crew is supposed to be heading for the fire lines tomorrow.”

  “We saved the crew and defeated an ancient evil,” Joe grumbled. “We should at least get a day off.”

  “I don’t think Boise is going to take ‘sorry, too busy fighting the mother of all snakes’ as a valid excuse for not showing up.” Rory cast a significant glance over at Zephyr. “It’s a busy season. Could always use another pair of hands.”

  Zephyr smiled, but shook his head. “Technically, I didn’t complete the training. And in any case, the Thunderbird may still need to call on me with little warning. I don’t think a career in wilderness firefighting is in my future.”

  “Good, because you were terrible at it,” Buck said, and then appeared to realise he’d just insulted Zephyr in front of the entire squad, not to mention Blaise’s parents. He cleared his throat. “Not that you couldn’t have improved, of course. With work.”

  “A lot of work,” Zephyr said wryly. He put an arm around Blaise’s shoulders. “It’s all right. I didn’t join the crew out of a love of firefighting.”

  She leaned into him. “Any idea what you do want to do next?”

  His dark eyes gleamed down at her. “I have a few ideas.”

  Grinning, she stretched up on her toes. He met her halfway, lips warm against hers. The glow of the mate bond filled her chest, as bright as her animal’s fire.

  Joe let out a theatrical groan. “Guys, we are right here.”

  Rory put both hands on Edith’s belly as though covering their unborn son’s ears. “And there are children present.”

  “A shameless display of public affection,” Wystan murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Quite shocking.”

  Callum didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Get a room, you two.”

  Still kissing Zephyr, Blaise stuck her middle finger up at her friends.

  “Do you know what you want to do next?” Blaise asked Zephyr again, much later.

  He was quiet for a moment, his fingertips tracing spirals across her bare shoulder. Even wrung-out and exhausted, every muscle in her body limp in the aftermath of lovemaking, his touch still raised electric sparks along her skin.

  “Yes,” he said at last. He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at her. “But you already know that.”

  She did. She’d seen it for herself, after all.

  “Why do you look worried?” She traced the small line between his brows. “There’s nothing standing in the way anymore.”

  He let out a wry breath. “Apart from the ine
scapable fact that I don’t have any funds. Or experience. Or even a high school diploma. I don’t think banks are going to be falling over themselves to offer me a business loan.”

  “We’ll figure something out.” Something occurred to her, and she grinned up at him. “Heh. I think I know someone who can help. In fact, maybe we can solve two problems at the same time.”

  Zephyr’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

  “Something Diana said a while ago. Leave it with me. I’ll put out some feelers, and hopefully set you up with a meeting.” Blaise groaned, letting her head thump against the pillow. “Shit. Except the crew is meant to be rolling out before dawn. It’ll have to wait until we get back from our next job. That probably won’t be for two weeks, given the size of the wildfire we have to tackle.”

  A speculative expression crept across Zephyr’s face. “Are you very tired?”

  She caught her breath as his palm brushed over her skin. “Keep heading in that direction, and sleep will drop off my list of priorities.”

  He chuckled, bending to kiss her collarbone. “Tempting, but I didn’t mean that. I have an idea.”

  The Phoenix flew.

  Wildfires called to her. She swooped low over burning forests, calming the raging flames. Unseen by the tired crews working below, she herded the advancing fronts, turning firestorms back on themselves. The hungry flames searched for fresh fuel, and, finding none, started to die down.

  And behind the Phoenix came the rain.

  It fell softly at first, from storm gray wings. Exhausted firefighters turned their gazes to the sky, breaths held in hope. Tired but heartfelt cheers rang out as the rain thickened, washing soot from filthy faces and drenching the ground.

  Wingtip to wingtip, the Phoenix and the Thunderbird flew. And in their wake, nestled in rain-soaked ashes between charred, blackened trunks, new saplings began to sprout.

  Epilogue

  Eight years later…

  “You knock.”

  “No, you.”

  “This was your idea.”

  “You agreed to it!”

  The not-so-quiet whispers from the porch were clearly audible through the open bedroom window. Zephyr buried his face in the curve of Blaise’s neck, stifling a groan.

  “Let’s be very, very quiet,” he mumbled. “Perhaps they’ll go away.”

  “Wimps,” said a third voice, and Zephyr’s last hope for a leisurely lie-in with his mate evaporated. “Get out of the way. I’ll knock.”

  The speaker did so, apparently with a battering ram. Zephyr could have sworn the whole house shook.

  “UNCLE ZEPH! ARE YOU UP YET?”

  Underneath him, Blaise sniggered. “Well, you were.”

  Downstairs, what sounded like a full-grown rhino charged the front door.

  “UNCLE ZEPH!”

  “Maybe he’s already left,” said the second voice.

  “No, I can sense he’s in there, with Aunt Blaise,” replied the first speaker. The girl’s tone shaded into worry. “But they’re just lying in bed, not moving. Maybe they’re sick.”

  “UNCLE ZEPH?” yelled the third voice, even louder than before. The front door rattled in its frame. “AUNT BLAISE? DO YOU NEED HELP?”

  Blaise poked Zephyr’s shoulder. “You’d better get down there before they get Flash to teleport them right into the bedroom.”

  He sighed and rolled off her. “I suppose you have to get to work, anyway.”

  “This would be the absolutely worst day to be late, yeah.” She got up, stooping to kiss him. “But it’s only training. I’ll be back for dinner. We’ll continue this later.”

  “Mmm.” He cupped the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “UNCLE ZEPH!”

  He sighed again. Releasing Blaise, he lifted his voice. “Be with you in a minute, kids!”

  It was more like fifteen minutes by the time he’d washed and dressed. Still, when he opened the front door, a row of bright, eager faces beamed up at him.

  Well, three of them did. Rufus was looking down, his shaggy blond hair hiding his face as usual. But he rocked a little, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his stocky body taut with anticipation. Zephyr could tell that he was just as excited as his friends.

  “There you are,” Estelle exclaimed, as though Zephyr had turned up two hours late for class. “We’re ready, Uncle Zeph!”

  “So I can see,” Zephyr said, a touch dryly. “And also, I note, early.”

  “I told you so,” Beth hissed to Estelle.

  Finley, ever the peace-maker, stepped between the two. “Sorry for waking you up. We’re just really eager to help. And you did tell us to come over first thing.”

  Zephyr cast a glance at the sun, which was technically over the horizon. “We need to have a discussion about what hour counts as ‘morning’, and what should still be considered ‘the middle of the night.’”

  Estelle widened her mismatched eyes, adopting an expression of total innocence. “But this is morning. I got up at the same time as my dad. He’s probably already at work.”

  “She’s got you there,” Blaise said from behind him. Her amusement sparkled down the mate bond. “Hi, kids.”

  “Hi, Aunt Blaise,” Finley, Estelle, and Beth chorused in unison.

  *Hello,* Rufus echoed, his voice a soft whisper in Zephyr’s mind.

  “I’d better get a move on, if Wystan is already heading for the base.” Blaise ducked round Zephyr, ruffling Rufus’ hair in passing. “Be good for Uncle Zeph, kids.”

  “We will,” Beth promised. She gave Estelle a pointed glare. “All of us.”

  Estelle stuck her tongue out at the older girl.

  Blaise laughed and tousled Estelle’s hair, too. Hopping off the porch, she stretched out her arms. Fire swirled around her, unfolding into burning wings.

  Estelle heaved a wistful sigh, watching the Phoenix soar away. “I wish I could do that.”

  “You’ll shift when you’re ready.” Zephyr locked the door behind him. “Now, I want you kids to tell me the truth. Did you ask your parents for permission before coming round here?”

  From the way Estelle and Finley’s gazes slid away, it was obvious they hadn’t. Rufus, whose eyes were already averted, shook his head a little.

  “I did,” Beth said, infinitely smug. “I told Mom that you needed me to help set things up. She said it was okay.”

  Zephyr made a mental note to talk to Diana about what counted as ‘morning.’ Then again, he couldn’t blame her for being a little hazy on timekeeping at the moment. Last he’d heard, the new baby was still keeping Diana and Callum up for most of the night.

  “Estelle, you need to go home and let your mom know where you are.” Seeing the speculative expression stealing across Estelle’s small face, he added, “Beth, go with Estelle, please. Make sure she actually asks her mom, rather than just leaving a note.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of doing that,” Estelle protested, unconvincingly.

  “You totally were,” Beth said. She lifted her chin, practically glowing with pride at being given a task. “Don’t worry, Uncle Zeph. I’ll handle her. Come on, Estelle.”

  “Come to the office once you’re done,” Zephyr called as Beth led a scowling Estelle away. He turned to Finley. “You need to check in with your parents too, Finley. You are second in line for the Pearl Throne. The last thing I need is a swarm of knights tearing the place apart looking for you.”

  Finley rubbed a foot against the back of one leg, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I kinda got carried away.”

  “I’m not mad. But if I’m going to trust you kids to go off on adventures by yourselves this summer, you need to show me that you can look out for each other and be responsible. That means always making sure a grown-up knows where you are.” He shooed the boy off the porch. “Off you go, now. Rufus, did your parents already leave for work?”

  Rufus nodded as Finley trotted away. *Mom wanted to get to the base early.*

  Zephyr held out
his hand. “You can come with me, then. Let’s go find your aunt.”

  Rufus’s small, warm hand slipped into his. They set off together, past Fenrir and Darcy’s cabin, heading along the shore of the lake.

  It took a while. Normally, Zephyr would have flown the distance in a matter of seconds, but Rufus hadn’t yet mastered his own wings.

  Zephyr didn’t mind the walk. There was no rush, after all. It was pleasant to stroll along, breathing the fresh spring air, while dawn mist slowly rolled back from the flanks of Thunder Mountain.

  To any outside observer, Rufus might have seemed a sullen, silent companion. They wouldn’t have sensed his quick, perceptive mind, pointing out things that Zephyr himself would have missed. A blue-striped lizard, sunning itself on a rock; a clump of shy purple wildflowers, peeping out from under thick brambles; the nearly invisible tangle of an owl’s nest.

  *You’re smiling,* Rufus said to him at one point, sounding uncertain. *Why?*

  Zephyr squeezed his hand. “Because I’m enjoying your company.”

  Rufus didn’t smile back. He hardly ever did. But the boy’s shy delight danced in Zephyr’s mind, like the sunbeams on the rippling lake.

  They reached the junction. At the edge of the road stood a three-way wooden sign, the lettering still as crisp as the day it had been raised. Thunder Mountain Hotshots read the arrow pointing up the mountain, and Unicorn Horse Sanctuary showed the way to Wystan and Candice’s ranch.

  Smiling, Zephyr ran his fingers over the carved letters on the third arrow. Camp Thunderbird.

  Though it had another name, too. A secret one, used only by the special guests, who came for the by-invitation-only summer program. Fenrir had come up with it in the first year, and—like most of the hellhound’s nicknames—it had stuck.

  “Just a little further now,” he said to Rufus. “Excited for your first summer at Cub Camp?”

  *Yes.* Rufus ducked his head, his hair shadowing his face. *But I’m a little nervous.*

  “Everyone is nervous at first.” Zephyr started down the track, heading for the small cluster of camp buildings nestled at the edge of the forest. “Don’t worry, the counselors will look after you. And the other kids won’t arrive for a while yet. You’ll have a chance to settle in and get to know the place, just with your friends. It’s Beth’s third year, so she’ll be able to show you how everything works.”