The Phoenix Keeper

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Aila sprawled on a dirt incline, papyrus reeds crowding her vision and sticking up her nose, peering into a hole framed by sculpted rocks.

Beside her, the reeds shifted. A wild Tanya in the brush.

“There!” Tanya pointed, dark skin striped by reed shadows, morning light slanting through the glass aviary. “Got him. Back right corner.”

Aila squinted into darkness, teasing out a patch of silver-blue feathers. For the past week, she and Tanya had worked to thwart the Bix phoenix from his favorite new hiding spot, employing every strategy from piling fish near the observation window to planting reeds in a screen along the waterfall slope. So far, the bird’s determination outmatched them both.

Tanya pushed through the reeds now working against them, stiff fronds snaring her box braids and dust fading her black polo into brown. Despite plastering a cheek to the dirt, she couldn’t reach the back of the hole. Aila snickered.

“Hey, let me try.” She did a little wriggle. “Spindly arms, finally good for something.”

Once Tanya backed off, Aila squeezed into the gap. Not a fan of enclosed spaces. She watched cave diving videos on the internet more out of morbid fascination than any desire to entomb herself. Fortunately, this was no cavern, just a gap in the rocks where dirt had eroded down the slope, perfectly Bix phoenix-sized.

Her fingers brushed feathers, followed by an angry croak. Bix phoenixes were ganglier than their Silimalo cousins, all heron-like legs and neck. Careful not to strain anything delicate, Aila hooked an arm around the bird’s torso and heaved him out.

“There you go.” Tanya knelt at her side, monitoring progress. “Turn him around a bit. Perfect. Now hold up right there.”

Aila paused with the bird nearly out, scooching over so Tanya could grab the recoiling neck and spear-like beak. Khonsu didn’t usually pose a threat, but under duress, she couldn’t blame an animal for lashing out. Through his restrained beak, he let out an indignant croak.

“All right.” Tanya shifted to a more stable stance. “One. Two. Three.”

They pulled the bird out and released him to the air. His wings flashed lapis blue, bringing him down the slope to land on stilt legs, tail an angry fan of gray wisps.

At his irritation, all water in the exhibit rippled—a cascade down a rocky cataract, into a pool full of papyrus reeds and lotus flowers. The phoenix ruffled. Squawked. As he pranced into the water, the current rose at his command, washing over his feathers to clean the dust away.

A great trick to play on patron water bottles.

“You’ve got this whole lovely aviary, Khonsu!” Tanya arced an accusing arm over the sunny glass dome, the lush vegetation of a Renkailan river delta, the feeding tray brimming with fish. “Why you gotta keep shoving your ass in muddy holes?”

The phoenix squawked at her, then dipped into the pond for another wash.

With their mission accomplished, the keepers left the aviary. Opening time had long passed, the public walkways swarming with patrons as the Movasi summer bloomed in full force. Khonsu’s exhibit was modeled after the Bix Desert of Renkaila (largest in the world, with the interior desert of Movas a close second), but the zoo’s wider Renkailan section followed the forested eastern coast, paths shaded (blissfully) by canopies of many-armed banyan trees. Tanya and Aila worked their way around the northern edge of the aviary hub.

One bend in the path transported them back to the northern hemisphere, the temperate forests of Fen, across the cloud-scraping mountains to the northeast. Movas itself was a habitat sandwich west to east: scrubby coast, then low mountains, then high desert, then bigger mountains, that second ridgeline defining borders with Fen and Pennja. Cypress and giant bamboo screened the paths. Three-faced marmosets hooted within their netted enclosure, flashes of gilded fur swinging through the branches. Human children hooted louder, careening through the lines of a food court and chasing feral (and thankfully, non-magical) pigeons around tables.

“We need to try something new.” Tanya dodged a convoy of strollers without breaking stride. “Metal, maybe. Plants aren’t permanent enough to block him out.”

“Won’t he just summon a current to break anything loose?”

Tanya groaned. Aila commiserated. Thwarting a stubborn animal was frustrating on the best of days, especially when that animal had magical control over water.

“He’s just a bird, Tanya. With a brain the size of a walnut. I’m sure our combined human intelligence can outsmart him.”

“Combined intelligence, hmm? We both know you’re the brains of this partnership.”

“Oh? And what does that make you?”

“The beauty, of course.” Tanya batted lush lashes, folding manicured nails primly beneath her chin. “Maybe if we get this volunteer program off the ground, we can get some fresh ideas in here, finally beat that bird at his game.”

“You want to make your poor volunteers crawl around in the mud?”

“It’s a learning opportunity. Builds character!”

Aila would admit, a great deal of her own character building had transpired while covered in mud, or hay dust, or whatever other substances one encountered in endangered species barns. The bulk of that, she hadn’t experienced until college. Tanya’s ambitious proposal (currently under consideration by the zoo director) was to form a volunteer keeper program, bringing young trainees to shadow real keepers and build the next generation of zoo superstars.

A very Tanya plan—generous, forward-thinking. Aila might well shrivel into hay dust herself if a stranger had to shadow her all day, but she supported her friend regardless.

Tanya carried the conversation, navigating the river of patrons while musing on volunteer prospects and how to combat the crafty phoenix. Aila nodded at the appropriate intervals. Most people thought her rude when she kept quiet, but sometimes, she just wanted to listen. Not have to be on all the time. Tanya understood how to give her space without leaving her behind.

“How’s the Jewelport phoenix cam?” Tanya asked with practiced nonchalance.

Aila perked up. “Have you been watching?”

“Here and there.” Tanya smirked, knowing the perils of phoenix-related questions.

“I haven’t checked in yet this morning— sooo busy. But it’s amazing, Tanya! The Jewlport Zoo has an incredible setup. All the nesting materials are imported from Silimalo. Real scrub olive! In addition to the trees from the Movasi nursery, of course. Their enclosure is all open-air. Natural climate. It keeps the feathers so healthy!”

“Mm-hm.”

“The phoenixes laid their first egg four weeks ago.” Aila tapped her fingers against the air. “Average incubation time of twenty-eight days. They could have chicks any day now!”

“Very exciting.”

“A lot of people have been asking about the immolation, if the female is healthy enough. She’ll have to burn to hatch the eggs, of course, and she’ll reincarnate as a chick if everything goes right, but the keepers have valid concerns with her age. The process gets more uncertain the older the hen, but considering she’s had a clutch before, she should have the experience required to… Sorry, I’m talking too much again, aren’t I?”

Tanya laughed. “You, Ailes? Never. Skies and seas save us the day the breeding committee finds a mate for Rubra.”

Aila might burst into flames herself if that happened.

“Maybe we will.” Speaking the prospect aloud fluttered her chest. “With how successful the nest at Jewelport has been? IMWS is bound to ramp up other programs in Movas. Right?”

“That would be grand.” Tanya sighed, wistful. “Now if only we could get excited Aila to show up in front of the general public, the rest of us would be doomed.”

Aila stiffened. Dropped her eyes. “I’ve gotten better.”

“Oh, girlie.” Tanya squeezed her arm. “There’s nothing wrong with being an introvert! You’re not the best at the whole socializing thing. So what? I’ve never met another person who can recite two dozen feeding schedules down to the teaspoon.”

“Sure,” Aila muttered.

“Or someone who will drop her schedule in a heartbeat whenever I need an extra hand.”

“Right, but—”

“It’s just a shame, you know. So few people getting to see your passion.”

Aila remained slumped. Funny, how often she’d been fed that exact line from her teachers. From her parents.

From the Fenese portion of the zoo, their path snaked into spruce trees, dense as the wide Vjari forest that spanned most of the northern hemisphere above Movas. Vanilla bark scented the air, paired with a tang of pine needles and misted concrete. Overhead, squeals of delight and terror joined feathered wingbeats. Griffin rides ranked among the zoo’s flashier attractions, and though the saddled beasts were all domestic varieties bred for people and cargo transport. Their wild scarp griffin cousins could be viewed a couple exhibits over.

“What’s wrong, Ailes?” Tanya asked. Too observant.

Aila clamped her mouth shut, studying the pattern of chewing gum and soda stains on the concrete.

“ Aila . What have we talked about?”

Aila muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Tanya pressed.

“ Bottling up your problems doesn’t make them go away .” Aila’s therapist, annoyingly, said the same thing. “I’m trying, Tanya. Last time I gave a keeper talk, my legs nearly gave out on me. Again . What if I trip into the exhibit? That would be a show, Maisie eating me in front of everyone.”

“She’d never.”

“She’s a carnivorous horse, Tanya.”

“Carnivorous horses still know who feeds them.”

Aila rolled her eyes. “I’ve always been like this. Why should I keep hoping something will change?”

“Don’t give me that defeatist talk, Miss Ailes.”

“It’s true! In grade school, I spent more time talking with our class moss marten than I did with other human kids.” The moss-crusted fur of the martens purified air, making them a staple of offices, reception lobbies, schools. Their wide black eyes made them good listeners.

Tanya shrugged. “You knew you liked animals. Is that a bad thing?”

“In high school,” Aila went on, “while normal kids spent their lunches gossiping about crushes and movies? I sat alone in a corner. Reading zoo books.”

“Must’ve been a sight.”

“A boy tried to talk to me once. I stared at him so long without saying anything, he backed away and never spoke to me again.”

Tanya stifled a laugh. “That’s… Yeah… you’ve mentioned that one before.”

The path sloped upward, lined by a railing of rough-hewn logs, info signs and building fronts decorated in bright geometric designs on dark backgrounds. In winter, the zoo dressed the Vjari section up with a snow machine, though nothing frozen lasted long in Movas.

“So maybe this is just me.” Aila kicked a bit of gravel off the path. “Doomed to be antisocial. Forever.”

Tanya clicked her tongue. “High school is no baseline to be judging the rest of your life. Took me most of high school just to realize I’m a woman.”

Aila scrunched her nose. Point taken.

“And even college,” Tanya continued. “We get shoved together as roommates, and how many days before you spoke to me? Three? Four?”

“ Five ,” Aila muttered.

She’d applied for a single dorm room. Imagine her horror upon being assigned a double. As the only child of two working parents, she’d scarcely had to share a house, much less a room. Avoidance seemed the best strategy. If Aila burrowed deep enough beneath her phoenix-print comforter, maybe she could survive the year without interaction.

To her surprise, Tanya left her alone. And started decorating.

Onto their dorm wall went a dozen posters for the most obscure movies Aila had never heard of. House of the Phantom Cat. A Cockatrice for Two. Krakenado . What in all the skies and seas was a krakenado? Aila couldn’t stop herself. She had to ask.

Tanya, the devious asp, had seized the opportunity, redirecting their conversation to what Aila thought about naturalistic exhibit design. Clearly a superior alternative to historic exhibits, any loss in patron visibility more than made up for in the well-being of the animals and—

Focus, Aila. You’re doing it again.

“You’ve come a long way, Ailes,” present Tanya said. “Change doesn’t come easy. But you’ve got to keep testing that comfort zone. You’ll grow with it. I promise.”

“If I have to answer any more absurd questions from the general public, I’ll combust.”

“Oh? You’re sure you can’t make any exception?” Tanya’s brow quirked up. “Not even for a smoking hot dragon keeper you’ve always got your eye on?”

“ What ?” Aila squeaked.

They’d reached the trio of dragon aviaries. The largest dome enclosed a Vjari cliffside, dark rocks coated in pine trees and purple lupine. The needles rustled with a scrape of claws as the diamondback dragon shifted behind the trees. By the observation window, a crowd packed tight, craning their necks to spot the elusive resident.

For once, Aila couldn’t care less about the crowd.

At their center stood a keeper with the most swoon-worthy grin in the zoo. Tall with broard shoulders. Fair skin. Dark hair swept into a mesmerizing tousle, the lone curl against his temple enough to occupy Aila’s thoughts for days.

“Welcome, everyone,” Connor announced. “The afternoon keeper talk will begin soon.”

Maybe Aila could stand listening to a keeper talk if she wasn’t the one delivering it. Her somersaulting heart would give out on her if she risked anything closer.

“We should say hello,” Tanya proposed.

“ Excuse me? ” Aila’s heart ceased somersaulting and tried stopping instead. “No. Tanya. That’s a terrible idea—”

Tanya grabbed Aila’s arm and marched them toward the crowd.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no.

“ Tanya ,” Aila hissed. “I’m fine. Really. Let’s go!”

“Nonsense!” Tanya sang. “One little distraction to clear your head. What’s the harm?” She smiled, a glint of victory in her devious brown eyes. Not wanting to cause a scene, Aila slumped behind her like a boneless fish.

A quick listen. What could go wrong?

By the observation window, the crowd pushed into a ring around Connor. Children raced through the periphery, roaring as they flapped plush toys of diamondback dragons. Since adding the item to their inventory, the gift shops struggled to keep them in stock.

Whatever. Phoenixes were cooler.

“Good afternoon!” came Connor’s voice over his lapel microphone. “If you’re here for the keeper talk, please gather in front of me. If a few of the taller guests wouldn’t mind making room in the front? There you go.”

Aila and Tanya kept to the back of the crowd, where they could gawk at their leisure. Connor, the zoo’s head dragon keeper, had joined the staff not long after Aila.

Horns and fangs. He was gorgeous.

That hair the color of ink. Eyes like aquamarine. Every keeper in the zoo wore the same black polo with a peacock griffin embroidered on the pocket, yet the way his fit that toned chest and broad shoulders…

“Mm-hmm,” Tanya agreed. “That’s one fine-looking boy.”

Aila’s nose scrunched so tight her cheeks hurt. “What about Teddy?”

“I said one fine boy, not the finest boy on the continent. You deserve something nice, too. Should go talk to him.”

Aila would rather ask the fire-breathing dragon if she’d like a date.

She was awful at people watching. Tanya could look over a crowd and instantly spot the couples holding hands, the ones bickering over the zoo’s map app. Yet even oblivious, hermit crab Aila noticed the bloom in Tanya’s voice when she talked about Theodore. She noticed how he always looked at Tanya like a flame-wreathed queen (as he should).

And sure, Aila was lonely. And various levels of envious for her friend’s much-deserved romance, especially when Aila’s approach to dating better imitated a category five hurricane.

“Welcome to the San Tamculo Zoo!” Connor said with a dazzling grin. “How are you all doing this beautiful Movas morning?”

A round of cheers and overlapping answers sounded from the crowd. Somewhere, a child wailed. A mother shushed him.

“You’re all here to appreciate this beauty behind me, the Vjari diamondback dragon.” He gestured to the observation window. “Let’s see if we can get her to say hello?”

How did he do it? He spoke without wobble, without hesitation. The crowd laughed, and he’d hardly made a joke. What Aila wouldn’t give for an ounce of that confidence.

“Hello, Vera!” Connor held a theatrical hand to his ear, head tilted to the window. “We’ve got some visitors here who’d like to meet you.”

He slipped a hand into his pocket, remotely triggering a bell within the exhibit. Pine needles rustled. Rocks scraped. The crowd gasped.

From behind the trees emerged a massive snout, black scales flecked with gold. Wide yellow eyes followed. After a scan of the crowd, the diamondback dragon slipped down from the cliffs in a serpentine motion, four clawed legs moving agile over the terrain, leathery wings folded at her back. She sprawled upon an outcrop of rock, displaying the yellow and red diamond pattern down her back.

In the crowd, phones shot up, pictures flashing.

“No flash, please!” Connor said. “For the comfort of our beautiful animals.”

The flashes ceased. Fickle, all of them.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my friend Vera.” Connor swept an arm to the exhibit. “Our female diamondback dragon. Unlike other dragon species, female diamondbacks are larger than the males. Our Vera is about thirty-five feet long, a whopping twelve tons.”

The crowd bobbed their heads, transfixed. For once, Aila agreed. Watching Connor’s infectious smile, the lilt in his voice when he talked about his dragons, her eyes glazed over with distracting thoughts.

“Diamondback dragons are native to the boreal forest of Vjar. Anyone here from Vjar?”

A few hands lifted.

“Welcome! We’re glad to have you all the way down here in Movas. Of course, what we call cold down here has nothing on a Vjari winter. Dragon scales are resistant to both extreme cold and heat. Powdered dragon scales are the most widely used strengthening agent in modern construction.” Connor tapped the glass behind him. “We use them in all our glass exhibits. Just make sure your powder comes from humane, naturally shed dragon scales!”

Skies and seas, accurate conservation facts, too? Aila could have swooned.

Connor clicked his remote. Within the exhibit, a trapdoor released a dead rabbit. Vera snapped up her treat in a single mouthful, followed by a contented growl.

“Now!” Connor clapped his hands. “I’d love to answer any questions about Vera.”

A battalion of hands shot up. Connor pointed to a straw hat.

“Yeah, so, what do dragons eat?” the man asked.

What a dumb question. Who didn’t know that dragons ate—

“What an excellent question!” Connor replied. “Dragons are carnivores. In the wild, they hunt primarily scarp griffins. Here at the San Tamculo Zoo, we feed Vera a balanced diet with several types of meat. Another question?”

He pointed to a young girl in the front row. She swayed back and forth at the attention, hands clutched behind her yellow sundress.

“I was… Well, I was just wondering… Well…” She spoke in a ramble, her attention flitting like an indecisive bird. Kids. The absolute worst at asking questions. During Aila’s keeper sessions, she avoided them at all costs.

Connor leaned forward, eager.

“I was just wondering…” the girl continued. “How did Vera get here?”

“Another wonderful question! Unfortunately, if you look at Vera’s right wing, you might notice something amiss.”

As Connor pointed, the crowd craned their heads. The injury wasn’t hard to see: a swath of leathery webbing missing from the dragon’s wing.

“When Vera was a hatchling, she was captured by poachers,” Connor explained. “The International Magical Wildlife Service caught the culprits as they tried to smuggle her across the Vjari border, but by then, she’d suffered damage to her wing. Because she couldn’t be released into the wild, she lives here as an ambassador for her species. Hopefully, your visit today will inspire you to support conservation of diamondback dragons in the wild!”

“Why’s she on her own?” shouted someone else. “Isn’t she lonely?”

“Ah, well, we used to have a male diamondback dragon. In fact, the pair was able to breed! However, females are only receptive to breeding once every several years, and outside of that, they’re incredibly territorial. So our male diamondback moved on to another zoo. Vera is quite content with the single life. She gets all the rabbits to herself!”

Despite Connor’s cheerful tone, Aila swore she heard a strain beneath the words. San Tamculo had, indeed, bred a clutch of diamondback dragons a year ago. Part of the reason why plushies were so popular in the gift shop—visitors flocked to see the hatchlings scampering over rocks and puffing smoke at pine needles. Even she had to admit, they’d been precious.

Then, when they were old enough, they’d been transported to a Vjari rehabilitation center for release into the wild. They never made it. In transit, the shipment was intercepted by poachers, the precious cargo no doubt sold off to black-market collectors—either as pets or in pieces. How Aila would have liked to throw those slimy excuses for humans into the dragon enclosure, see how much they liked it.

The next few questions took on a more lighthearted tone: the heat resistance rating of dragon hide, how often she shed her scales, whether Connor had to brush her teeth with a giant toothbrush and if anyone had ever died trying to do so. As the crowd began to disperse, Aila fidgeted.

“Well, that was fun,” she said. “We should get back to work, yeah?”

“What, you don’t want to say hello?” Tanya teased.

“Why in the endless skies and seas would I want to do that?”

“Because every time that boy opens his mouth, you get this look in your eyes like you’re thinking about—”

Aila tackled her. Tanya swatted back. After several seconds of wrestling like children, rather than professionals in their late twenties, Aila crossed her arms and pouted.

“You know I’m teasing.” Tanya smirked. “Though I’d be so proud if you said hello.”

The best friend guilt trip. What a low blow.

“ Just hello,” Aila conceded.

Tanya shooed her off like a fairy godmother. Or a wicked matchmaking witch. Aila marched toward the dragon exhibit with concrete steps.

There came the wobble. Aila focused on steady strides, but her brain struggled between proper posture and remembering how to breathe. By the observation window, Connor stood with eyes down, unfastening the microphone from his polo. Those eyes shone clear as a tropical—

“Hello!” Aila blurted out. She expected more words to follow. None did. Shoot.

Startled, Connor looked up. “Oh, hey. Something you need?”

“Me? Nah. I just…” Aila moved an arm to lean against something, discovered only smooth glass within reach, abandoned the motion and swung her hands at her sides. “Tanya and I were walking by. Listened to your talk. That’s Tanya, by the way.”

Aila pointed. Tanya waved back from across the plaza, brows perched high. Aila vowed to fill her socks with bird kibble later.

“Thanks,” Connor said. “You’re Aila, right? The phoenix keeper?”

He knew her name. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic.

“Yeah, that’s me?” Why did that come out as a question. Aila grinned. Too wide. “Amazing keeper talk. Wish I could give one like that.”

Connor focused on his microphone. Oh no, was she being too weird? Too boring ? Aila’s heart tried to chisel its way out of her chest.

“I appreciate it,” Connor said. “I should get going, though. Work to do.”

“Of course. Yeah. Work.”

“Take care, Aila.”

“Same.”

He left her with a half-smile. Aila returned to Tanya, cursing herself for going along with such a horrible idea. Why was she so vulnerable to peer pressure?

Tanya laid a hand on her shoulder. “We need a date night. Work on your small talk.”

“Thanks, Tanya.” As if that would do any good against this disaster.

They resumed their walk, Tanya with a thoughtful silence, Aila musing ways she could turn herself into a specter and never have to interact with another human. Her stomach squirmed as she looped over her chat with Connor, replaying every horrendous word. Coming up with the right thing to say was so much easier once she was alone, a moment to think. To breathe.

Hi, Connor! Wow, what an amazing keeper talk! You have a knack for this.

Thank you! Aila, was it?

That’s me! Silly, how we hardly see each other. We joined the zoo around the same time.

You’re so right, we did! Maybe we could keep up with each other a little better?

There’s a great coffee place a couple of blocks over, down by the trolley station. My treat?

I’d love to.

Aila frowned. If she could manage half the competence in real life as she did in her imagination, she might stand a chance.

She and Tanya reached the phoenix complex, the cool interior a welcome reprieve from the hot morning—even if the air conditioner had started rattling more than it used to. And the door to the patio had jammed ajar. Functional, but nowhere near as updated as the facilities at the Jewelport Zoo. Some world-famous breeding center. A whole shipment of dragon hatchlings stolen, no male phoenix.

Aila pulled out her laptop to check the Jewelport nest cam, already planning how she could avoid people for the rest of the day. More cleaning to do. Food prep to finish. Easy.

Behind her, Tanya sighed. “You’ll be fine, Ailes. You broke the ice today!”

“It felt like falling through ice, yeah.”

“Don’t pout like that.” Tanya wrapped an arm around Aila’s shoulder, hugging her close. “I just want to see you happy.”

“I know. I appreciate the advice, but… maybe I’m not cut out for the dating life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ailes. We’ll sort this out.”

“You’ve seen me flounder like a Vjari auk enough times, what makes you think…?”

Aila frowned at her laptop. The Jewelport live cam loaded as a black video screen, the chat in the sidebar frozen. She refreshed the page. Still the same.

“Weird,” Aila said.

“Hmm?” Tanya squinted at the screen. “Camera’s down? I’m sure they’ll have it back up by lunchtime. All those fancy donors watching the cute phoenix nest on their breaks.”

Maybe. Jewelport struggled through some technical difficulties when the camera first went up, but they’d had smooth sailing since their phoenix pair laid eggs, and why take the camera down without good reason? Unless…

“Tanya.” Aila bounced. “What if the female immolated? The timing’s right!”

“You think they’d close the camera for that?”

“Sure? Maybe they don’t want the public freaking out, seeing her burst into flames? Necessary to hatch the eggs, of course, but you know how people can be. Or maybe they want to make sure all the chicks are healthy before going live again.”

Aila whipped out her phone, struggling to type as her fingers jittered. It must be in the news. A clutch of phoenixes hatched in Movas! Jewelport PR would be daft if they didn’t have this story ready to launch. She pulled up a search tab and typed Jewelport phoenix nest …

Jewelport phoenix nest raided , the autocomplete offered.

Aila stared at the screen.

She read it again, a pit in her stomach. A mistake. It had to be. She clicked the article. A choked gasp drew Tanya to her side.

“Ailes? What’s wrong?”

No. No no no. This can’t be right.

“Early this morning…” Aila’s voice caught. She took a deep breath. “The South Coast Police Department responded to a tripped security alarm at the Jewelport Zoo. Upon arrival, responding officers found signs of forced entry through the west parking lot, as well as the building housing the zoo’s breeding pair of critically endangered Silimalo phoenixes. Though the male bird was found unharmed, the female and her nest of five eggs are unaccounted for. The avian pair earned worldwide fame this summer as millions tuned in to watch…”

Aila’s words trailed off. Her vision dimmed around the edges.

“Not a camera malfunction,” she said, quivering. “Not immolation. They’re…”

Tripped security. Forced entry.

She fell into a chair. Her legs never shook this bad except when she stood in front of a crowd, yet here she was, alone with Tanya in a derelict breeding building that suddenly felt much colder than usual. Her chest tightened. How was she supposed to breathe?

“Oh, Ailes…” Tanya pulled up a seat beside her.

“How could this happen?” Aila struggled with the words, struggled to make sense of them. “Someone took them. Someone stole the phoenixes?”

Saying it out loud made it real.

The phoenixes were gone .

Aila’s world crumbled, taking her with it. Drawing her knees to her chest, she tightened into a trembling ball in her chair. Tears welled in her eyes. When she stared again at the black video feed, she wanted to scream, wanted to say anything.

Only a sob came out.

An entire nest of phoenixes. Gone.

Tanya wrapped an arm around her as she cried, nothing to say, a steady presence in a world falling to pieces.