Rise of the Firebird (54 page)

“We’ll worry about it later,” Isabelle said as Hamish’s loud bark echoed through the sounds of fighting and dying. “Stay focussed, Harley.”

Out in the courtyard, Hamish had cornered Pierre. Isabelle cocked her gun as something dropped from the balcony above them and tore his head off before ripping his torso to shreds. Cerise tossed his surprised head into the koi pond and licked her claws with a long cat like tongue. Isabelle leapt over the body of a charred hunter and continued looking for Frankie.

“See if you can sniff him out, Hamish,” Isabelle instructed as she stabbed an unsuspecting wiccan in the throat. His nose hit the ground and she was chasing after him through the dark corridors.

The house was larger than what it appeared on the street and Isabelle’s nervousness about the house’s magic was well justified. Hamish started to scratch at a pink door with butterflies painted on it. Isabelle kicked it in and her mind rapidly tried to make sense of what she was looking at. Adele was standing calmly with a filleting knife in her hand. Francois had been stripped and strung up with wires. Swathes of the skin on his arms and back had been skinned away and arranged in butterfly wings. Curving lines and designs had been carved into his body and Adele was smiling.

“He was turning into something I didn’t like, so I turned him into something I did,” she said happily before half of her head was blown away by Isabelle’s bullet.

Francois’s black eyes were filled with pain, but he couldn’t make a sound because Adele had sewn his lips closed. Isabelle pulled out her knife, “You had it coming, Frankie.” And because she wasn’t like Adele, she cut his throat and ended his suffering. Hamish whined.

“Go and find Harley. Make sure she is okay,” she demanded. Without looking back, she shut the door to the bedroom and hurried to rejoin the battle.

An hour later, the twenty remaining hunters dragged the bodies of their enemies into the courtyard and lit a bomb fire. Harley had a bullet wound in her shoulder and various cuts, but she still stood to watch the bodies burn. Isabelle had shown her Adele’s bedroom before Silvian had cut Francois down and carried him out with the others.

“What shall we do with the house?” Lovelace asked, her fine suit in bloody tatters.

“Burn it,” Harley demanded. “Burn the whole fucking thing to the ground.”

Fox stood at her side, a deep cut marring her cheek. She looked viciously feral as she watched Francois’s body shrivel and burn with the others. When he thought no one was looking, Silvian touched her face and healed the cut before walking back into the house. Isabelle pretended not to notice.

“Let’s clear out the bodies of the hunters first. I don’t want them dishonoured by being buried here,” Isabelle insisted.

“Then we had best get to it. I want this done by dawn,” Harley said coldly. Something in her tone made Isabelle cringe. Her sunshine girl was gone.

The next morning, Anya dutifully called everyone to meet her downstairs for breakfast. She’d woken curled around Yvan warm and content. She would’ve given anything to stay there and to spend a few more hours enjoying his body.

In the dining room, Katya was talking lively with Izrayl, Aleksandra and Mychal. They were looking recovered after a few day’s rest and Anya felt guilty for having to be the one to break up the happy mood.

“Aren’t you looking…healthy,” Katya smiled.

“I would almost go as far to say she has a certain
glow
about her cheeks,” Izrayl added and Anya blushed.

“Really? You’re going to start that before my coffee?” she huffed. They found a large table out of earshot of the other diners.

Søren and Aramis turned up next looking like night and day. Søren sat down next to Mychal and they clasped each other’s forearms as she had seen Aramis and Søren do on many occasions. Anya wondered if it was the first friend Mychal ever had. Eldon and Yvan came in last. Anya had to send Yvan to rouse Eldon who blatantly refused to answer a phone.

“How are you this morning?” Anya asked the squinty-eyed Bard.

“Hung over as a one legged Moroccan whore,” he muttered and collapsed in a chair. “Let’s get some breakfast before I expire entirely.”

Once they were loaded up with plates of fruit, eggs, waffles, and more coffee, Anya quickly said, “We need to leave tomorrow.”

“Back to New Orleans?” Aleksandra asked.

“No, to the farm. Yanka is going to try to destroy the gates so that Russia and Skazki can be one.”

“That’s ridiculous,” growled Søren, “one sustains the other. Trying to make them one would destroy them both.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the brightest light in the night sky,” Eldon mumbled from face down on the table.

“She’s impulsive and doesn’t think about the consequences of her actions,” said Aramis. “She wants to try to restore the old ways in the real world and is under the impression that this is the best way to do it.”

“How do you know that this is going to happen?” asked Katya.

“I had a vision. The gates are screaming again because they are being tampered with.”

“We’ll have to travel the conventional way,” Mychal said. “It’d be best to sneak up on them and assess the situation outside of a vision. They can be unpredictable when it comes to time. If you opened a gate, Aleki, they’d have magic users that would pick up on your signature and be able to track you.”

Aleksandra opened her mouth to reply, but Anya cut her off, “I agree with Mychal. It is too dangerous, Aleki. I wouldn’t even let Søren risk it.”

“They are welcome to come after me,” Søren smiled coldly.

“No, they aren’t,” Anya said in a tone that made the people at a nearby table look up. “We go by car or we can catch a ferry part of the way. I don’t care which, but we need to leave Helsinki.”

“I’ll make some enquiries and work out the transport,” Aramis said before finishing his coffee.

“If Yanka is going to bring the gates down, I’m assuming she’s going to have her army there to protect her,” Søren interrupted. “Shouldn’t we be thinking about strategy? You know as soon as the Illumination hear that the Darkness are gathering, they’ll be going to the farm as well. You’re going to need more than us to get you close enough to do any damage.”

“That’s where my good friends in the neutral army come in. Antru has already sent the message out. Whoever turns up will be our back up or distraction.”

“Or cannon fodder,” Izrayl said. “The Illumination and the Darkness will turn on them. It’ll be chaos with three sides fighting one another.”

“I’m hoping that it won’t come to that,” argued Anya. “If Baba Yaga and Yanka want to have it out with me, then that’s fine. I want things to be kept as peaceful as-”

“It isn’t going to happen that way, you stupid girl,” Søren snapped as he got to his feet. “As soon as you get it through your stubborn head that they mean to kill you and all of us who stand beside you, the better things will be.” He stormed out of the dining room as Anya gripped the table.

Aramis made to stand but Mychal stopped him. “Stay. I’ll go after him.” He hesitated by Anya’s chair and added, “He is right, Anya. When people want blood, they will not settle for less. You need to be prepared for that.”

“Find him,” she replied without looking up. She wanted to tell them that she knew how it was going to end. That she was prepared to kill herself to save them all. That knowledge was her burden and she wouldn’t let anyone else carry it.

“I see you’re still making grown men cry.”

Anya turned in surprise, “Trust you to find the heavy metal scene.” She stood up and hugged Kullervo. He looked like a beautiful Nordic rock god with eyeliner, black fingernail polish and accents of leather.

“Eurovision called and they are going to need you on set six in ten minutes,” giggled Katya.

“What is Eurovision?” Kullervo asked as he let Anya go.

“Doesn’t matter,” Anya said. “What’re you doing here? I thought you’d be off enjoying your freedom.”

“I was enjoying it, but then I have this loyal streak in me that demanded I find you and see it through to the end. Besides, you need a strong brother in arms to guide you. One that is not Álfr,” he added to annoy Aramis. “Even though you have Russian blood, you have a Finnish heart and you need a powerful Finn beside you. If I can do that, and maybe kill a few annoying Russians along the way, then who is going to argue?”

“Probably the Russians that you keep calling annoying,” Yvan commented.

“Now, Vanya, don’t give into that surly weakness of your people,” chided Kullervo. “Of course I didn’t mean you. You’re the first Russian I have ever liked.”

Søren was crossing the road to the waterfront when Mychal fell into step beside him. “I knew she’d send someone after me but I thought it would be Aramis.”

“She didn’t send me, I needed the walk. I don’t like hotels. Too much noise, too many people,” Mychal shrugged.

They walked in silence for a while watching the boats until Søren finally asked, “I didn’t upset her, did I?”

“A little. She’s far tougher than when we first met, but she doesn’t like being yelled at. Yvan is good for her, since he is calm and patient.”

“She’s still crazy to think there could be a peaceful solution to all of this.”

“She isn’t that naïve, Søren. She knows there will be death, but she’s hoping it’ll be hers and not ours.”

“Damn that girl! What has she said to you? That she is going to turn herself in if we are allowed to go free?”

“She has told me nothing, but I see that look in her eye. She’d kill for the people she loves. She would die for them.”

“That’s very noble of her, but useless in the end. Being noble does not win battles. There will be a battle and I will get my revenge, Mychal.”

“You want to kill Vasilli for what he has done to your people. I understand that, but don’t let it cloud your judgement. You are a better warrior than that.”

“Now that you mention warriors, I tried very hard to find your friend Ásgeirr.”

“And did you? I’d like to thank him for the spear. It is like it was made for me.”

“That’s the problem, Ásgeirr doesn’t exist.”

“I had bruises all over me for weeks from his training. Trust me, Søren; he exists. Where would I have gotten this from then?” Mychal pulled out the spear that was the size of a baton. He rotated it easily around his hand before tucking it out of sight again.

“I don’t know, Mychal. You are part Hvítrvirđar. He could’ve been one too.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why go to the trouble? If the Hvítrvirđar were going to visit anyone, it would be Anya.”

“But you are one of them. At least part of you is. Anya told me what happened when Louhi pushed you. The Hvítrvirđar are watching you, Mychal. They have given you a spear and now a sword has come into your hands. They are equipping you for a battle. Whether it is this one or another, only time will tell.”

“We’ve enough to worry about with this-” Mychal stopped dead as something spun past his head. “Søren look out!” A group of men and women were closing in on them, armed with sharp swords and axes. Søren pulled out a long knife and Mychal’s spear was in his hand.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“They are demons,” Mychal growled. Søren didn’t have time to reply as a man lunged toward him, teeth and claws. Søren’s knife flashed up and sliced half the demon’s face off, but it kept coming.

“Get behind me,” Mychal instructed, an eerie calm in his voice. His spear extended and Søren leapt out of the way. He had seen Mychal fight before but it had always been in training. Now he knew how much Mychal had been holding back.

The long spear flashed silver liquid in his hand and demons screamed as he moved through them as if they were fumbling children. It was over in less than a minute and the twelve that had come after them were scatted hunks of flesh along the footpath.

“Damn filth,” Mychal spat. “They’ve left me alone for weeks and now they attack in the middle of the day.”

“Should we do something with the bodies?” Søren asked cautiously.

“No need,” Mychal said as the messy bodies turn to ash and scattered on the breeze. “We need to get back. If they can sense me, they will be able to sense her.”

“Well done, Mikha’el!” Another demon called from one of the boats floating near them. “It will be interesting to see how you fair next time. I do not think the woman would be…” The demon dropped as one of Mychal’s knives hit it in the head.

“How come my knife did nothing and yours could kill them?” Søren asked as he ran to catch up with Mychal.

“Mine are blessed.”

“By a priest?”

“No, by me.”

When Mychal got back to the hotel there was no one left in the dining room. He took the fire escape stairs two at a time to their floor and all but kicked in their door. Aleksandra yelped and dropped the shirt she had been folding.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as he searched their bathroom.

“Søren and I were attacked by demons on the street,” he said angrily. “They threatened you. I was worried.”

“You need to calm down. We’ll be gone today.”

“It doesn’t matter where we go, they are always going to find us because of what I am!” he shouted at her. Her face dropped and Mychal went cold.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay, but you need to calm down.” She took his hand and made him sit down on the end of the bed. She kissed him softly. “Demons lie and they’ve always been after us. It is nothing new. We will deal with it together.”

“And how are you going to deal with me, Aleki?”

“Like I always have,” she kissed his black curls. “With love and as much understanding that is within my power.”

“There’s something inside of me. It is rising closer to the surface every day. You know I am dreaming more than ever. That damn sword recognises me. It talks to me in my head, tells me impossible things. The demons are growing bolder, something is happening.” He could feel his body trembling as she held him.

“We’ll face it when it comes, but it is not coming today, my love. All we can do is be ready for it. You need to have faith in yourself and your own abilities. Whatever is inside of you is to be loved, not feared. It’s a part of who you are so it makes up what I love most.”