Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Aila had never floated like this.
The rest of that festival evening. The days that followed.
She sailed the zoo paths as if they were made not of summer-baked concrete and old chewing gum but of ocean waves, wisps of cloud, beams of silver starlight. The sludge in the kelpie exhibit seemed less grimy. Collecting moldy fruit from the World of Birds aviary became an afternoon stroll. When she stood in her phoenix exhibit, she basked in the light through the glass.
In the nest, five perfect turquoise eggs on the brink of hatching.
In her hair, remnants of mango that teased throughout the day.
Once, she’d dreaded Luciana’s visits. Now, each one stoked butterflies in her stomach, a smile that didn’t fade.
On a sweltering afternoon, Aila braved the porch of the phoenix complex, in need of cleaning after a windy day filled it with twigs and olive leaves. As she swept around the table legs, Aila whistled. She wasn’t even good at whistling. Off-key notes stumbled through her teeth with reckless abandon as she swish-swash-swished her broom across the tiles.
“How long am I gonna keep catching you like this?” Tanya said behind her.
Aila startled, her whistles twisting into a squeak as she fumbled with the broom handle. Clutching it to her chest, she spun around. Tanya leaned against the doorframe, watching Aila with brows raised.
A familiar gesture, by now. When Aila confessed to kissing Luciana, Tanya had (as was her duty) joined in the initial squeal called for by such an occasion. After that? The teasing. Constant and merciless. That “I-knew-longer-than-you” smirk of Tanya’s had burned into Aila’s retinas.
“Will you stop sneaking up on me?” Aila snapped.
“Only when you stop acting like a love-drunk idiot,” Tanya countered with a grin.
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Oh, real mature.”
Tanya brandished a teal fingernail. “Ailes. You only whistle when you’re multiple shots into tequila.” A second finger shot up. “When you see a cute animal on the internet.” A third. “And now, apparently, when you’re thinking about kissing terrifying women.”
Aila plopped into a patio chair, the broom handle too narrow to hide her blush. This brand of whimsy, she had no experience with. Most of her relationships consisted of awkward small talk or anxious glances around corners before crashing and burning in a heap.
Happy Aila didn’t know what to do with herself. Part of her scrambled for her shell, waiting for all this joy to crack beneath her.
Tanya pulled up a chair. Despite Aila’s best pouting, Tanya propped a chin on her shoulder and weaponized a smile. Aila crumbled, and they both tumbled into a fit of laughter.
“Sorry.” Aila kicked the broom from foot to foot, scowling at new debris blown out of the trees. “I’ll try to be less obnoxious.”
“Ailes. You know I’m teasing.”
“Still.”
Tanya swatted her shoulder. “You stop that right now, girlie! Look at you! I’ve never seen a smile like this!”
Aila rubbed her cheeks. “It’s exhausting. Do normal people smile this much?”
“Love-drunk idiots do,” Tanya countered. “This is exactly what I was hoping to see from Connor. Who knew Luc would be the one to bring it out of you?”
Aila remembered a few fleeting butterflies from Connor. Her infatuation with that smile. Nothing like this warmth that settled in her belly like a furnace.
Luciana.
Her phoenixes.
All of it, perfect.
This moment Aila could live in forever.
She leaned back in her chair, smiling like an idiot as she breathed in the warm, olive-laced air, with a hint of sweet kettle corn and salty fries from the nearest snack shop.
“Do you ever wish,” Aila said, “you could go back and tell your younger self to just keep going? That it will all get better in a few years?”
“Absolutely,” Tanya said, equally wistful.
Aila wished she could have been her friend sooner. It was hard to imagine Tanya as anyone other than the vibrant, confident woman she’d grown into, but everyone had their own rocky road. At least they had each other now. Each other, and the phoenix program they’d built.
Tanya reclined against the table, a pensive look at the trees overhead. “Do you think she’s a top or a bottom?”
“ What? ” Aila sputtered. Her moment of reverie, shattered.
“Luciana. One would assume top, but people can surprise you.”
“Tanya!” Aila’s cheeks burned.
“Only one way to find out, you know.” Tanya waggled devious eyebrows.
Aila had no chance of a dignified comeback, but any attempt at it was thwarted by the well-timed click of the door inside. Boots tapped against linoleum, a confident tempo they both recognized. Tanya shot Aila her most scandalous smirk yet.
Aila tackled Tanya in her chair.
A futile assault, as always. Tanya had her beat in reach. And muscle. And underhanded tenacity. Tanya pinned her by the armpits, snickering as Aila flailed her spindly arms.
Luciana stepped onto the patio. Stopped. With squinted eyes, she appraised a relaxed Tanya, Aila squirming like an indignant chicken on the verge of gnawing a hand off.
“Hey, Luc,” Tanya greeted. “You come to pick up our sassy gremlin child for ice cream?”
Aila gave a puny battle cry as she kicked her legs. Still no freedom.
“Yeah… no.” Luciana held up a flash drive, her tone dry. “Nadia sent me to drop off the audio files we have rights to. For your phoenix video project?”
At last, Tanya released her struggling prey. Aila stumbled out of her arms and onto her feet, making “gimme” hands at Luciana. All insults forgotten. Eyes bright on the flash drive.
Luciana held it just out of reach. “First, I’m going to need the two of you to act like professionals for at least thirty seconds.”
Off to the side, Tanya smirked and mouthed an affirmative “ top ” to Aila. They swatted each other once more.
Aila snatched the flash drive from Luciana. The project idea came to her a couple of days ago, and as with most strokes of inspiration, Aila had been consumed by it ever since. As popular as their live phoenix camera had become, who wouldn’t love a highlight reel of the best preening moments? The cutest phoenix clucks? Edited to music, of course. Of which the griffin show had plenty to share. As Aila clutched the flash drive, Tanya chuckled and headed inside.
“See you later, Luc.” Even facing away, Aila heard the smirk.
Luciana stared after her. A scowl puffed her lips, nose wrinkled into the most adorable lines Aila couldn’t stop staring at.
“Is she… mad at me?” Luciana asked, confused.
“Oh, no. There would be way more knives involved.”
“That’s unsettling.”
“Yeah.” Aila sighed, wistful. “I don’t deserve her.”
The moment turned more earnest than expected. Aila cast her eyes down, but before she had time to feel awkward, Luciana laughed. A line of rescue, hauling Aila up from the deep. And when Luciana booped a finger to Aila’s nose? She soared again.
They’d kissed at the festival. And several times since then. Afterward, Luciana hadn’t said it was a mistake, or tried to avoid Aila, or anything sensible like that.
“I love this video idea,” Luciana said.
“Really?” Excitement turned Aila’s words to a squeak. “Did you watch any highlight videos for the Jewelport Zoo? Don’t get me wrong, they were amazing, and I watched each one ten times. But could have had better production value, you know? Not that I’m an expert, but I’ve been watching a lot of instructional videos, and I think I can put something together.”
Aila paused for breath. A blush followed: the realization she’d been talking too much, too fast. Again. Don’t blow it. She couldn’t risk scaring Luciana off when they’d barely—
“I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
Before Aila’s anxiety could spiral, Luciana leaned down for a kiss.
Aila fluttered. Fell. She couldn’t seem to remember what she’d been worrying about when Luciana’s arm wrapped her waist. Soft fingers cupped her cheek, the brush of lips like a watermelon breeze.
Perfect. All of her. All of this.
When Luciana pulled back, she wore a smile. Not one of those polite, humoring smiles Aila was so used to seeing. Genuine.
“Those songs are all you need?” Luciana asked.
“I think I’m good for now,” Aila said, breathless. Floating.
“Well, if you think of anything, let me know. Ranbir’s keeping me late tonight, trying to train this new routine when it’s not so hot out.”
Luciana brushed her nose to Aila’s before pecking a parting kiss. When she left, the sweet of mango lingered on the air.
As the day wound to a close, Aila settled cross-legged in her desk chair to work on her video project.
The patrons had gone home. Her animals were all safe in their back exhibits (with the exception of Rubra and Carmesi, diligent at their nest). The new computer in the phoenix complex offered better ergonomics and processing power than a laptop on the couch in her apartment.
“I swear, I’m going to throttle that bird one day,” Tanya complained from her desk, packing up her bag to head home. Fresh mud clung to her work polo, a mark of defeat in the latest squabble with her Bix phoenix and his hiding hole.
“At least your deterrent strategies are lasting longer?” Aila offered. Her eyes stayed glued to the computer screen as she clicked through folders of phoenix video clips.
“A whole month, this time!” Tanya let out a teeth-grating sigh. “How’d that little bastard dislodge a metal plate ? Screws and all?”
“Persistence?”
“Could do with a drop less of it.” Tanya hefted her bag to her shoulder, then loomed over Aila. “Been staring at that computer screen like it owes you something. You sure you don’t want to take a break tonight? Come out with us?”
A kind offer. Tanya and Teddy were headed for their monthly outing to the drive-in theater, a standing invitation Aila had succumbed to on rare occasion—and rather enjoyed herself, not having to worry about fighting movie crowds.
“We can get some of those almond chocolates you like?” Tanya taunted, seeing Aila’s frown of indecision. “It’s a double feature, too. They’re playing Night of the Killer Unicorn and Krakenado 2: The Rising Tide .”
Aila scrunched her nose. “Didn’t we already watch Night of the Killer Unicorn ? Why do you need to see it a second time?”
A gasp. Tanya pressed a hand to her heart. “Aila. I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, in the interest of our friendship.”
Aila snickered. Tanya nudged her shoulder, a sign of no hard feelings.
“You have fun with Teddy,” Aila said. “I’ll tag along next time.”
“Of course, Ailes.” Tanya shifted to a squint. “How late are you staying here tonight?”
“Um…”
Aila’s hesitation made Tanya click her tongue. “Don’t work yourself too hard. You need your sleep for when those phoenixes hatch.”
“I know. Just another hour…”
Aila got lost in projects too easily. Tanya knew as much, as shown by her glare.
“Or two ,” Aila conceded. “This computer is so much better than mine at home! Blame Nadia for picking out excellent hardware. Plus, in a couple of days? The police will be here for immolation watch. How am I supposed to get work done when there are strange people around?”
“I’ll call to check in,” Tanya said. “Two hours. You better be home by then, Ailes.”
“Sure, sure. Enjoy your movies.”
The door clicked closed as Tanya left.
Then, quiet. From the kitchen, the refrigerator hummed. The overhead lights flicked off, leaving the room lit by a phantom glow off the computer screen, cool white across metal counters and the dark pane of the observation window.
Aila loved the zoo at night. So much space to focus.
She popped open a bag of potato chips left over from lunch, crunching away as she pulled together video clips for her highlight reel. Film editing didn’t rank high on her skills, but learning something new brought a calming, meditative focus. Her mouse clicks marched through the room as she pulled together her favorite moments of Carmesi preening Rubra, the pair playing with leaves, squabbles over the perfect sticks for their nest platform. In the background, she layered a cheerful guitar jingle, borrowed from the griffin show’s media catalogue. Aila tapped her boot to the rhythm, trying to time the video transitions.
All of this, a warm-up for the coming act. In three days, Rubra was due to immolate. Aila couldn’t believe how the time had flown, yet here she was, dreaming of her next video compilation filled with peeping chicks, their first steps out of the nest, their first flight.
The night ticked by. As fatigue dragged Aila’s eyes, her thoughts drifted to other things.
She ought to ask Luciana out on a date.
Well, there went the calm of a late night at the zoo. Aila’s heart picked up speed, crashing her focus. She’d fessed up to her crush. She’d dared the kiss and, skies and seas, did it turn out nice. Next step was, logically, to pursue some kind of relationship. A terrifying prospect.
Within the scope of the zoo, Aila felt safe. Beyond that, the world got scary. People opened into all sorts of brilliant and rotten complexities.
A stream of “what ifs” hit Aila like a windstorm. What if Luciana thought she was boring outside of work, like Connor had? What if Aila tripped and made a fool of herself in front of Miss Perfect Poise? What if she laughed too hard at one of Luciana’s jokes and choked on her water and had to be rushed to the emergency room? What if—
Aila groaned and leaned back in her chair. She could find a million things to worry about, a million ways to make a fool of herself. But Luciana already knew Aila was a dork. She already knew Aila talked too much when she got excited, or that rooms with lots of people made her nervous. Despite all that, Luciana had kissed her. Several times.
A trickle of calm settled over Aila. It seemed impossible that someone could see the real her and not run off screaming. Tanya had given her that reprieve. Could Luciana as well? The warmth in her belly returned, a welcome change from her usual anxious somersaults.
In the aviary, a phoenix shrieked.
Aila nearly fell out of her chair. She clamped the edge of the desk in clawed fingers, halting her swivel, heart thundering against her ribs.
Another shriek rattled the glass—and her frail heart.
What in all the skies and seas?
Phoenixes weren’t nocturnal. The moment the sun went down, they roosted for the night, not a peep under normal circumstances. Yet there came a cackle echoing through the aviary, notes of a familiar staccato. Carmesi.
Aila had never heard that call before.
She hurried to the window.
After hours of staring at a computer screen, it took her a moment to peer through the glass, tired eyes struggling to parse shadowed silhouettes. Outside, the exhibit lurked dark and quiet, moonlight dim through glass panels and olive trees. But there, at the far side, a halo of light. Carmesi perched on the nest platform, his tail flared to golden flame. He called out at full volume, head bobbing, every gilded feather puffed.
Beside him, Rubra lay flat against her nest, the flame on her tail dimmed to red embers in the dark. She splayed her wings, gold and tangerine flight feathers tangling with twigs and insulating down. Her breast rose and fell, breaths heavier than usual.
She let out a low, sharp cluck.
Then she burst into flame.
A flare of gold engulfed the aviary, pure daylight in the middle of the night. Aila squinted and shielded an arm across her face, blinded by the light, breath caught in her chest. Normal fire didn’t burn with such intensity, wreathed in tendrils of blue and crimson and gold in ever-changing swirls. Sunlight didn’t shine with such heat, enough to bake Aila’s cheeks even from across the exhibit, even through the heat-reinforced glass.
Just as quickly, the light snapped out. The exhibit went dark again, starker in contrast.
Spots danced across Aila’s vision. She blinked them away with pained fervor, fighting to focus on dark trees. Dark aviary struts. Across the exhibit, only a dull orange smolder lit the nest platform.
She stood at the window, frozen in disbelief, hands shaking against the countertop. Aila had read every book. She’d read every paper, watched every video online and in the IMWS archives, had heard it described two dozen different ways. Nothing that could prepare her for…
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This was early.
Rubra had immolated early .
Weeks, months, years, she’d prepared for this, yet the moment threatened to topple her. Terror and excitement were warring bears, clawing for supremacy. Through the haze, Aila floundered for clarity in mental snapshots of flashcards. Her protocol binders sat organized along the wall, every word memorized.
She jumped into action.
Click, click, click , went down the line, her fingers jittery as she flipped on the incubators. Carmesi would handle most of the chick-rearing, but this first night after immolation? Crucial. The highest mortality window for young phoenixes. The chicks, exposed to that extreme heat, risked cooling down too fast, even with an attentive father roosting over them. Aila’s priority was getting them inside, moderating their temperature in the incubators until they stabilized.
She pulled fireproof gloves onto both arms, then grabbed a metal basket, lining it with towels she didn’t mind getting singed. As Aila stepped into the exhibit, her heart raced like pixie wren wings.
It’s time, it’s time, it’s finally time.
The acrid smell of burnt olive leaves clawed Aila’s nose. Charred twigs crumbled to ash beneath her boots, piling in gray drifts beneath the nest platform. She hefted herself up the ladder, wood hot beneath gloved hands. The fire-resistant treatment held up, though bits of platform popped and creaked in protest.
At the top of the platform, the nest had vanished. Only ash and blackened branches remained, traces of a cataclysm. Carmesi roosted at the epicenter, his crimson wings splayed gray with soot, wide eyes looking up at Aila. Full of pride? Understanding? At least one of them seemed calm in this situation.
“Good bird.” Her voice rattled, constrained by tight cheeks. A smile, she realized. Aila’s smile stretched wider than any she remembered. “You’ve done such a good job, Carmesi. Let me take care of them for the night, then you can have them back. I promise.”
He clucked in protest as Aila reached beneath him, lifting the bird off the ruined nest. With a flutter of wings and a puff of ash, Carmesi hopped to the edge of the platform, pacing as he watched her.
They both stilled at the sight of moving ashes.
A muted peep struggled into the world. Aila dug through the soot until her fingers brushed something tiny, squishy. The chick emerged in a wriggle of wet gray down, eyes shut, nubby wings floundering. Aila cupped the treasure in her palms. It weighed nothing. It smelled of woodsmoke.
She had to move quickly, before tears clouded her eyes.
One by one, she dredged five chicks from the ash and set them in her metal basket. Carmesi nestled up to the side, peering down at his brood with puffed cheeks. Last, a bigger lump shifted within the nest. Aila brushed the bird clean, large enough to fit in both her hands, covered not in slick down but a bustle of ruby pin feathers.
Rubra. Gone in flame, returned as a chick, though more grown than the others. She raised her head, greeting her keeper with a tired peep. Aila hugged her phoenix to her chest.
“Sweet bird. You did so well.” Tears slipped from Aila’s eyes, slick down ash-stained cheeks.
Once Rubra rested in the basket with her chicks, Aila descended the ladder. Carmesi followed her across the exhibit, clucking anxiously. The sight broke her heart, but she’d get the chicks back to him soon. Tonight, she’d keep them safe at any cost.
Inside, the line of incubators filled the room with orange light, buzzing as the heaters worked. Aila placed Rubra and her precious chicks inside. Five times, she checked all the knobs and panels, making sure the temperature was right, the schedule set to gradually return to ambient. Nestled in their boxes, the chicks’ egg-wet down dried into the poofy coat that would keep them warm.
Aila stood back from her work, heart hammering. Breaths quick.
All quiet.
All well.
As the fog of fight or flight receded, reality struck. On the wall above her desk, a crinkled phoenix poster glowed in orange light. In the incubators, five phoenix chicks peeped as they settled into sleep.
Aila’s fingers jittered. Her boots bounced against linoleum. Five phoenix chicks. Her five phoenix chicks. Who cared if they were early? So long as Rubra and her brood looked healthy—
A laugh erupted from Aila’s chest. Remembering to breathe became an issue. Wiping the smile off her face before her cheeks split open? Impossible. She had to call Tanya. She had to tell Maria. Director Hawthorn. Her parents. Everyone in the world was going to hear about this. San Tamculo’s first phoenix chicks in over a decade.
And what about the live camera? Some viewers must have been watching. Aila flipped open her laptop on the counter, giddy to see the excitement in the chat.
When she pulled up the page, the video failed to load.
Frowning, Aila reloaded. Still nothing. A black screen sat at the center of the page, flanked by the scrolling live chat. Viewer comments streamed past in confusion, questions of why the video was down and when it might return.
Technical difficulties. That was all. Aila’s attempt at self-assurance didn’t stop her mood from plummeting, elation replaced by a squirm in her stomach. She glanced at the incubators, her phoenixes nestled safe inside. With the initial transfer complete, she had a laundry list of hatch-day protocol to check through, chick health to inspect and IMWS to notify.
That could wait five minutes. For Aila’s own sanity.
She yanked open the door and stepped outside.
Night shrouded the zoo like velvet, heavy in the trees, broken by dim light from the lampposts. No din of patrons. No squawks from the sleeping aviaries. Aila relished most quiet, but now, the lonely patter of her boots against concrete left her jumpy.
Ridiculous. She was worrying too much, like always.
A jog brought her to the loading dock behind the phoenix complex. She flipped open a metal box affixed to the wall, containment for the nest of wires that fed into the camera. Something loose. Something disconnected. That was all she’d find.
When she opened the box, the wires curled in neat bunches.
Except for one: the camera’s internet connection, cut in two.
Aila’s mouth turned dry as she inspected the severed cable. Infiltration by a destructive purserat? She saw no other damage within the box, no obvious point of entry into the metal case. Once more, Aila berated herself for overreacting. She had to be overreacting.
She needed to call the police. Rubra was early , too early for their scheduled patrol.
“ Fuck! ” Aila patted empty pockets and empty belt, her cell phone and radio cast upon the counter while she’d worked on her video project. Forgotten in the mad rush to rescue phoenix chicks. She sprinted around the building to retrieve them.
When she rounded the corner, she smacked into someone at full force.
“Horns and fucking fangs!” Aila sprawled onto the pavement, catching her fall with scraped palms. She hissed and flexed her fingers, angry red stinging her skin.
Looming above her, the absolute last person she wanted to see.
“Aila?” Connor’s polo was rumpled, the curl of hair against his temple cast askew by their collision. He stared down at her with wide eyes, as if he’d run into a ghost.
If only. She’d made herself scarce since they broke up, calculating paths and staff office check-ins to avoid him at all cost. Slamming into him on her own doorstep, a dick move.
“Will you stop that?” Aila scrambled to her feet, wincing at every joint that had hit concrete. “Lurking around corners. You’re going to give me a heart attack!”
“Aila, what are you doing here this late?”
“Working! What are you doing here this late? Actually, no, never mind. Crisis first!”
Taking fish inventory, cataloging dragon scales, bleaching swimming pools—Aila didn’t care what obnoxious inconvenience had tossed Connor into her path. She had to make sure her phoenixes were safe.
“What crisis?” Connor called out. Jogging after her, she noted with annoyance.
“Rubra immolated!” Aila hurled herself at the breeding complex door. “The chicks are out, but the live camera’s down. Looks like someone messed with the wiring. I need to call the police.”
“The police? Aila, take a second to calm down.”
“ Calm down? ” Aila reeled on him, boots squeaking against the linoleum.
“Take a deep breath.” Connor stepped closer, hands raised. “There’s no need to overreact.”
“I’m not overreacting, Connor! These are my phoenixes. My responsibility. I don’t care if I have to dredge the entire police department out here to investigate a single purserat. I’m not letting anything happen to them. Not after Jewelport.”
Aila finished with chest heaving, words ringing against the empty room. Skies and seas, that felt good . She should have stood her ground with Connor ages ago, not tiptoed around like a frightened rabbit. Empowered by the swell of confidence, she reached for her phone on the desk.
Connor grabbed her wrist.
“What are you doing?” Aila yanked back, annoyed, but his grip held. “Connor, let go—”
Her words slipped into a yelp as he pulled her across the room and shoved her into the phoenix aviary, slamming the gate behind her.