Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Percival walked from the factory along the darkened cobblestone streets. He strode to the corner where his carriage would be waiting.
It had been a long day. Since his uncle scolded Cyprian a few days earlier, his cousin had upped his verbal abuse of his employees.
Percival’s hands clenched. He couldn’t wait to put a stop to his cousin’s relentless bullying. Unfortunately, there was no plausible reason for Percival to interfere. And his uncle would see any interference from Percival as inappropriate.
He couldn’t wait until Cyprian and his uncle were gone. Then he would be in charge of the factory. All the workers would receive better treatment and working conditions. There would be no more mistreatment.
He stopped walking. He frowned. He looked around. His carriage should be right here.
“My lord.”
Percival turned. His servant, Ines, stood in the shadows to the side of the road. The lizard woman stepped forward and bowed.
“Where is my carriage, Ines?” Percival asked.
She spoke, head still bowed. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, my lord. But there was an incident in the lanes, causing blockages. The carriage could not get through.” She wrung her hands as if nervous.
“That’s annoying,” he mumbled. “So where is my carriage?”
“It’s down this way, my lord. Please follow me.” She walked quickly down a lane.
Percival followed, gaze flicking around.
He couldn’t wait to soak in his bath when he got home. He’d asked Cook to work on making a mushroom and leek pie, like they’d made in the bakery that first day he’d been there.
He was hopeful but not particularly optimistic. He’d had her savoury pies before, and they just weren’t the same as those that Leopold made.
It would probably help if he asked Leopold more questions about technique and ingredients. But he couldn’t stand the idea of asking the arrogant little shit for anything. Percival already had to deal with him to order the pies. That was more than enough.
A chill swept through the alley, scattering snow. But with his phoenix blood, it didn’t faze him. And no snow touched his heated skin. It melted before it reached him.
The dilapidated apartment buildings crowded around. He glanced in the windows he passed. He could see dim light and movement through ratty, threadbare curtains. He sniffed.
They passed a faun, a sprite, and a pair of goblins as they walked.
He wrinkled his nose as the smell of urine hit him. “How much further ahead, Ines?”
“Just a couple of minutes, my lord,” she said. “I’m… I’m so sorry for the in-inconvenience,” she stuttered.
Why was she so nervous? Perhaps because he’d told her off for forgetting his lunch the other day. Then he’d informed her that if she continued to make errors in her work, he’d let her go. But these blockages in the lane weren’t her fault.
He kept looking around, eyes alert. He was a wealthy phoenix walking through the poorer streets of Anorra. That made him a definite target for riff-raff and pickpockets. Of course, if he shifted, they would quickly discover their error.
They walked down a narrow side alley. He could see no windows along the sides of these buildings. Broken crates and barrels crowded, so only a narrow path could be walked.
He frowned. “Is this really the way?” No one else seemed to be about. In fact, he could see no other footsteps in the snow other than Ines’s.
A rush of cold hit him. Percival sucked in a breath as every muscle in his body tensed.
That is no natural wind.
He looked to his servant. Ines sprinted ahead of him, not glancing back.
“Ines?” he yelled.
She just kept running.
He tried to follow. But he couldn’t lift his feet. They were stuck to the ground. He shivered as goosebumps broke out on his skin. Cold cut through him, reaching through his skin and down into the arteries. His phoenix blood did not keep him warm against this assault.
He looked down.
“No.” He shook his head. “No. It can’t be. Not again.”
Three concentric circles containing numerous runes and symbols on the pavement glowed beneath him.
His breath shook. The last time he’d seen such a sigil had been when he, his parents, and his siblings had been murdered. Only he had been reborn.
“No.” The word tore from his throat. He tried to move his feet. He yanked at them. He shouted. But his feet wouldn’t budge.
He tried to search within himself for the heat at his core. He tried to shift. But the sigil locked him in this form.
Then he heard it. A whisper. The shuffle of feet through the snow. Percival lifted his head.
An ice sorcerer walked towards him. She dressed in dark-blue robes embroidered with silver runes. A cowl hid her face. Her hand was outstretched. It glowed the same pale blue as that which lit the sigil that trapped him.
The cold buried deeper inside him. He trembled. He wouldn’t escape again. This would be his final death.
“No!” His voice shook with rage.
He would not give up so easily! He was not a feeble phoenix anymore. That had been beaten out of him. He’d been taught to fight. He’d been taught to survive.
Her whispers came quick and fast and soft. He could not make out a word.
“Let me go, I am Lord Percival Everflame! You will release me!” he shouted.
But she didn’t even pause. She just steadily walked towards him, continuing her soft, fast whispers.
The sigil entrapping him glowed brighter. The lines began to twist and weave. A freezing wind whipped around him, stripping him of all heat. He hunched forward as his whole body shook.
Once again, he tried to shift, pulling on all his will and strength. But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t strong enough.
Within the shadow of the sorceress’s cowl, two eyes glowed light blue.
Ice crept along his veins towards his heart. Percival screamed. He fell to his knees. He kept trying to reach his phoenix form. He kept searching for some heat inside him. But he was blocked.
He couldn’t save himself. He was still just a pathetic, useless phoenix. All those years ago, his uncle had been right.
Percival would die. His ashes would be frozen. He would not be reborn this time. He’d die in the exact same way his parents and siblings had.
He convulsed, curling in on himself inside the glowing binding sigil. Pain tore through him. He whimpered. He stared into the eyes of his killer. And she just kept whispering, hands and eyes glowing.
A black shadow swooped from the sky straight towards her.
The sorceress screamed as the raven lunged with her sharp beak at her. The sorceress’s hands flew up, trying to knock the raven away. The cowl fell back, revealing black hair and a pale complexion.
The raven darted and wove, aiming for her eyes.
And as the sorceress’s hold on her magic waned, the sigil’s glow dimmed, and the cold clutching at Percival relented.
On shaking legs, he stood, able to move again. He tried to take a step forward. But the circle, still glowing faintly, held him in place.
He closed his eyes, reaching for his firebird. He focused on the spark at his core. Flames enveloped him, chasing the cold away and burning his clothes. Feathers sprouted from skin. Bones rearranged. Arms stretched and grew into wings. His neck elongated.
He opened his eyes. Blood ran down the sorceress’s cheek from one of her eyes. The raven must have gotten it. Scratches marked her pale skin.
The ice sorceress flung out her hand, and a bolt of ice clipped the raven, knocking her. The raven cried out. She flew up, movement unsteady but still alive. The sorceress aimed another bolt at the raven, but she ducked behind the rooftops.
With no time to lose, Percival drew on his fire.
The sorceress turned back towards him and began to whisper, her tone harsh and fast now.
Percival stretched his wings. He opened his beak. He flapped. Golden-red flames exploded from his beak, directed straight at the ice sorceress.
At the same time, the sorceress cried out. A wave of blue light flew from her hands, aiming at Percival. Pain, frost, and ice shredded Percival’s body. He yelled as he fell backwards.
The world swirled. He stared up at the cloudy sky. He could hear the screams of the ice sorceress.
Everything went black.