| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by DAT Anghelatos / Artwork by Marge Simon |
| Perfect Present |
Nothing was going well. Alexia sighed in some
resignation and leaned against the cool granite
cliff-face. This should have been a beautiful dawn,
camped high on the escarpment, with a marvellous
view of the rolling plains and glint of the distant sea
below. Sadly, everything was eclipsed by the massive
fiery sigils burning in the heavens above them. The
symbols might be a profound magical working, but
their flickering fires had turned the land into a carmine
hell.
She shifted her sword-belt and eyed Rhianne wearily.
"It really isn't working."
Her companion made an abrupt gesture with her
hands and the flames died. "No, it's not." Rhianne
flicked back her long fair hair and then unexpectedly,
smiled. "I do know why though."
"You do?" This was news.
"Of course. I worked it out last night while enduring
the misery of your dreadful mood." She shook her
head. "Hey, don't deny it! Aren't we really here
because of you? I heard you tell the Warden you
needed space away from the magic of the Ward.
Get out and see the normal world a bit, you said."
"Yes, but that was a cover to let us find a phoenix."
Alexia refused to comment on her bad temper.
"You lied to the Warden?" Rhianne raised a delicate
eyebrow.
"No! It isn't like that. You know it isn't." As usual, Rhianne was outflanking her and Alexia felt on the
defensive.
"Maybe, maybe not. You know what I think about your problems?" Not waiting for any reply, Rhianne
continued, "There has to be an underlying magical consistency in your powers which explains both your
healing and warrior skills. When I've worked it out, I'll tell you." An insouciant grin as she added that last.
"Thanks. I'll try to manage until then." Her reply was dry. It was not so easy—coming late to magic was
one thing; to use the æther, the essence of the universe, was completely another. Once she had been a
dedicated soldier and life had been easy. Now every moment seemed a moral quandary. "Can't we go to
Rijada and buy a carpet?" It was a vain hope as she turned the conversation towards their immediate
concern.
"Not a chance. The Warden of Fire is about to be three hundred years old and we need a suitable gift.
The phoenix is the bird of fire and she'll love it. All we have to do is catch one."
"We've been here for five days and not caught a glimmer of a phoenix."
"True, but we know they lair here. What we need is a female. Look," Rhianne turned charming, which was
worrying at the best of times. "You have the most amazing ability is to change things and you can
shapeshift yourself. Turn me into a phoenix, I'll fly the summoning pattern of fire to call a male and he'll
follow me to the Ward. Surely any phoenix worth its salt will want to live in the Ward of Fire?"
Alexia was horrified. "No way! You don't understand. I can't put you back the same as before. That's
how æther works." Rhianne was crazy to even think of it.
"Actually, after years of study, I do understand the basic magical premise that the æther transforms!
Most theory follows from that. However," and she exuded more charm, "I trust you. You wouldn't
change anything important about me."
She refused to play god with Rhianne's soul. "No."
"You don't trust yourself?" Rhianne casually threw another log on their campfire. "You don't think you
can do it?"
Could she? A shiver of magic inside assured her it was within her capabilities. But…. "What would I tell
the Warden?"
"Don't tell her anything. Come on, Alex. It'll be fun."
Rhianne had the certainty of one brought up with and skilled in magic. It was also true that if she made
as attractive a phoenix as she did human, she'd be irresistible.
"Not if I can't turn you back to pretty much what you are now." Her resolve wavered as the idea grew in
her mind.
"Ha! You'll never know unless you try. I'll wager you can."
It's your very self, Rhianne! Hells, can you really trust me so much? Still, it was a wonderful
opportunity.
"The phoenix will be the best present ever for the Warden." Rhianne almost bounced up and down.
"Please."
So how far did Alexia trust herself? Clearly not as far as Rhianne did. She stared at the ground,
considering it.
"Alexia." Rhianne took her hand, radiating hope, enthusiasm and expectation.
Alexia came to a sudden decision. "Very well." She swallowed, hoping she would not regret it.
"We should do it now before the sun is fully risen."
The young sun was the best time to catch a phoenix and Alexia quelled her last doubts. With one easy
thought, she let the æther flow out, surrounding and caressing her with its aura of glimmering rainbow.
A moment and it spilled over to encase Rhianne in its gentle light.
Too late for regrets; the transformation began immediately and she concentrated, shaping magic and her
own desire.
The æther cleared to reveal the outcome.
Rhianne was a fabulous phoenix. With a teasing trill at Alexia, she launched into the air, elegant and
graceful as she swept through the breezes. The new sun illuminated her wings when she lifted upwards
and touched her flame-trail with gold. She sang and her beguiling melody wrenched Alexia's heart—a
harp and a flute echoed with the rush of a mountain spring, the promise of growth and rebirth. It was no
surprise when an answering song sounded a deeper counterpoint, whispering of the fullness and joy of
life.
The male appeared in a burst of purple flame, silver-white where Rhianne was gold, more sombre where
she gleamed, and Alexia guessed he was an older bird. He hovered for a second, wings caressing the
thermal before he darted down and zoomed around the preening Rhianne. She gave a haunting cry and
soared. He followed and they flew as one, dancing the winds, hunting and chasing with Rhianne
swooping and mocking the male, forever out of reach. Behind them, their fire-trails twisted together and
their voices harmonised in a symphony of...
Lust. That flight, that song was nothing but lust. They were mating.
"NO! NO! NO!" She screamed at Rhianne, but the mage was all phoenix now and lost in the male's
attentions.
She was so furious with herself, with Rhianne, with the phoenix for its courtship dance, with the Warden
for being three hundred, that she ignored the sudden shift of energies. The wind blew stronger and on
its breezes it brought a magic that swirled upwards. She hardly heeded it as she shouted, "Rhianne! I’ve
got to turn you back!"
The phoenixes flirted blissfully while the power grew below.
"Rhianne!" She tried again. "Please!"
The energy was dark and thick before she truly noticed it; a black whirl that spiralled with slow menace
ever higher. A dry scent of dust and cobwebs tainted the fresh air as it passed over her in deliberate
billows, slithering towards the cavorting birds. They were too engrossed to sense any danger, but
Alexia's horrified anger quickly became a gut-churning fear. "What? Rhianne! Come here!"
The blackness reached out to encompass the phoenixes. She watched, unable to save them and her
æther useless against the evil she could taste and smell. Rhianne might know a counter-magic, but
Rhianne’s bird brain was consumed by desire. The cloud rolled inexorably onwards to completely engulf
the mating couple. With a clap of energy that blew Alexia backwards, they vanished.
~ * ~
"Oh, Mikren," Alexia muttered the oath. "I need a decent fight, not this."
The landscape was not a reassuring sight.
One night, two days and anything could have happened as she hurried across the country, guided by the
rough map that she had sketched while the magical residue of their passage hung in the air. Now she
guessed she had arrived at the right place.
The dank marsh reeked of decay and stagnant water. No path, but the patches of vivid green grass
suggested there was enough solid ground to keep her dry as she made her way towards the fortified
greystone tower. She was partially tempted by the grasses, but her instinct for danger screamed a
warning. She pushed the nearest greenery with her boot. Her foot sank; beneath that deceiving carpet
lurked a quick-sucking bog and a stifling death. In fact, the whole place seemed dead, with no sounds of
life, no splash of frogs or toads, call of fowl or buzz of busy insects. Not even a single marsh flower—no
meadowsweet, moss, fern or bristling thistle. Just clumps of grass and the brown-black stinking mud.
The scene hurt her, deep within. It was a swamp and it should be a mass of life. No marsh was so
lifeless, so empty of everything that should make it a wonder to behold. It shouted disease, blight and
abuse. It hardly took mage sight to tell her the place was soaked in magic and she tensed, ready to draw
her sword, desperate for action.
No obvious or easy opponent appeared.
Frustrated, she glared at the tower where she presumed Rhianne was held captive. If anything happened
to her, Alexia would never forgive herself and the Warden would never forgive her. Dammit, she was
supposed to take care of them both when they left the Ward.
Must hurry. And I still have to turn her back when I've rescued her.
That was a nagging fear that she ignored. It had not been part of the plan to lose phoenix-Rhianne.
She tried a careful step and then stopped as an unexpected pain shot through her. The land screamed
for her healing and she simply could not ignore its cry. Worried moments passed as she procrastinated,
but its sickness reverberated in her very bones and finally, she crouched down.
"Hang on, Rhianne. I just need to fix this." She touched the earth. "Be well."
Æther wrapped itself about her, rushed out and sank into the ground. She inhaled the æther's perfume
of health, saw it spread, weaving through the undergrowth, penetrating mud and regenerating pools
with its essence. Two candlemarks passed as she knelt, mind lost in the transformation, until she felt the
æther thread happily throughout the damaged land. It might not be instantaneous, but the marsh would
recover.
It was now merely a bog—it stank, was still dank and gloomy, but she could hear faint sounds of
movement. Fertile mud was spawning, hidden roots and wind-born seeds were growing, birds would
return and with them, midges, flies and other pests. For the first time since Rhianne had vanished, Alexia
smiled.
Then, a tiny thought, bringing a dangerous temptation: What could I change when I transform her
back?
~ * ~
The sun was westering as she approached her destination. As she halted to survey the defences, she
caught again that scent of death. Something was not quite right and she bent down to feel the soil.
Hells, the illness was seeping back. Alexia frowned. Something or someone had leeched her magic from
the ground. They had to be here, in this grim tower, harvesting the æther she had given to the swamp.
She stared for a moment at the raised portcullis and the iron-riveted door. It was ajar, welcoming her.
A trap in waiting, set by one who could draw out the life from the earth.
Rhianne. If they could do this to the swamp, what could they do to her?
Damn this! She kicked at the door to open it further and strode in, sword flashing into one hand, teeth
bared in a snarl. She would kill anyone who had harmed or threatened Rhianne. Five paces took her past
the tiny gatehouse, under the murder-hole and into the courtyard.
Silence.
The bog had spread under the walls in glistening ominous patches. The ramparts themselves were
empty; six feet thick with stairs leading up to watch-points and a stone walkway for patrolling guards.
The tower loomed before her and there were two wooden huts to one side. Everything was dusty,
littered with piles of rubbish, broken barrels and planks of wood. She paused, looking, listening, even
sniffing the still air. There was nothing. No wind, no birds, nothing.
More dead in than out.
She touched the flagstones. Æther flowed sluggishly inwards, in a direct line to the tower and she took a
deep, unsteady breath to restrain her rage.
Gloop.
The noise made her look around.
In the shadows under the guardwalk, something moved. A marsh patch suddenly belched a stink of
swamp gas.
And then appeared a hand, an arm, a head.
Alexia froze in shock.
Gloop.
A figure dragged itself from the bog, mud caking its dry and wrinkled body. Metal armour glinted on
leathery limbs, a gorget glinted around its whip-like throat and it wielded a bastard sword in one hand. It
shambled forward, and under the open helm she saw a frozen grin on its mummified face and dried
eyeholes burning with marsh light.
The gorget told her something. Bogspawn; a revenant created from a corpse buried in peat and which
could be killed by decapitation. "Finally got my battle," Alexia muttered as she dropped into a defensive
pose, unsheathing her main-gauche.
As it approached, she closed and made a low swing at the desiccated legs. Then she gagged as an acrid
scent almost overwhelmed her. Tannin! The new wine of Calsa would never taste the same.
The creature parried and made a slow riposte. She stepped away, executed a lateral slice and her sword
tore across the tough skin of its upper chest. Simultaneously, she stabbed with her dagger, straight into
its heart.
Shreds of dried skin fell to the ground and she heard a bone crack. The injury did not appear to hurt it
and it attacked with a vicious lunge at her belly. It missed, but it was getting faster. It easily avoided her
poke at the rusty gorget and replied with a powerful thrust that she barely knocked aside.
She wished she had worn her chain and not the lighter jack. "Come on, it's one bog man." Only a matter
of time before she beheaded it, but she would have to hack through that armour at its throat. She
feinted a blow, half thrust and whipped her sword up to slice its left arm, severing muscle, tendon and
bone. Her next attack was aimed to disarm it and permit her to dismember it at her leisure. Her dagger
threatened the glowing eyes and her sword glinted wickedly as she cut out and its weapon fell from its
severed hand. Finally, in a wide arc, all her weight behind her blade, she chopped its head above the
gorget, ripping through the jugular and spine.
"Hells!" Something hit her in the back, driving her jack's metal plates into her flesh.
A second spawn raised a club. Alexia ducked and ran, now grateful for the speed of her lighter armour.
Further movement caught her eye. Mikren, the bog pits were birthing a horde of revenants and she
would be badly outnumbered in a few moments. The tower was across the courtyard, and there were
three bogspawn in her way while her back would be vulnerable to others. Alexia hesitated.
Retreat was not an option with Rhianne captive; while the bogspawn were sluggish now, that state would
not last long. "Bastards!" She worked out why her æther had been diverted from its healing task—it was
being used to animate the corpses. That knowledge leant her pure fury as her sword swept right before
she dived left and rolled up to jump over a smashed barrel. She raced away and the enemy followed,
leaving the tower entrance unguarded. Good. Not intelligent, and simply drawn by her life-energy.
Air whistled and reflex made her leap aside as a morning star smashed onto the flagstones, missing her
by a hairsbreadth. She swung around to encounter five of them, jostling each other to attack, and with
more behind. She desperately traded blows with the nearest, trying to dart around it and as she did, she
ducked the whirling ball of the morning star which luckily impacted into the head of her opponent. As it
collapsed, Alexia doubled back towards the tower.
Ah! An arrow pierced her lower arm, went through the jack and into her flesh. She pulled it out as more
skimmed about her and another glanced off her boot. However, now only one enemy, wielding a great
axe, stood between her and the door. She grinned madly as the axe carved the air and she slipped
under the blade to close with it.
Almost in its embrace, she could smell the tannin while its long-hafted weapon flailed uselessly, easily
missing her. She jabbed her dagger into its neck, pushed her blade in hard and savagely tore away the
peat-preserved skin until she grinded on bone. She hacked until its head was half-severed and the
spawn collapsed. Over the body and she fumbled to turn the door's massive iron latch. It opened, she
fell inside and discarded her sword and dagger to pull the bolts across.
Alexia’s heart pounded, her chest heaved and hands trembled. Good fight, but a little close for comfort.
No blows, no hammering on her wooden barrier, so perhaps the bogspawn could not sense her inside
these walls. Relief washed over her as she retrieved her weapons and cleaned them on her breeches. Her
wound was dripping blood and she concentrated until a rainbow light swirled about her arm, healing
slashed skin and re-knitting the torn muscles. Better, although sadly, the æther could not replace blood
or lessen the raw impact of her injury.
Then she heard the eerie calling of a phoenix and put her pain aside. The spiral stairs invited her upwards
and she took them two at a time.
Beyond another open door was a congenial room with glass windows that afforded a vista of the swamp
leading into lush meadows and hills dotted with sheep. She strode in, eyeing the apparatus on her left
before noticing the phoenixes at the end of the chamber. A magical barrier glimmered, enclosing them
with latticed lines from floor to ceiling. The male was darting around Rhianne, his dance magnificent, his
purple plumage darkened to black and wings tips a silver fading into white. Seemingly refusing him,
Rhianne mantled on a fiery perch, her own plumage an iridescent flame red and wings golden-flecked.
"Rhianne!" When Alexia spoke both birds turned their sharp eyes towards her.
"Alexia, I presume?" A sudden male voice.
He had hidden behind the door. She faced him, sword raised.
Her enemy was thin, white haired and his skin was wrinkled with the prominent veins and liver spots of
the old. However, he stood straight enough and his half-bow was firm. "I am Geoffrey and of course,
your æther proclaimed your identity.” He smiled. “My thanks. I've not been able to animate my creatures
recently. Once the surrounding countryside was drained, they simply returned to their graves."
Smug bastard. Any desire to negotiate vanished. "You! You stole Rhianne and then my power to revive
your bogspawn! Why the hells shouldn't I kill you?" She was white with outrage, the sword wanting to
leap from her hand and into his throat.
"Go ahead. They say you're good." He mocked her.
Unfettered anger mingled with fear overcame her and she lunged, hard and fast to skewer him.
"Mikren!" Her blade bounced off an invisible shield and clanged into the wall. That made her withdrew a
moment, but she could not resist trying another stab. It also failed and so she lashed out with a kick,
which merely bruised her foot. Damn. Quiet reigned as she grudgingly acknowledged that she would have
to talk to him. "Why? How?" she asked finally.
He appeared relaxed as he gestured at the room and she examined it. A collection of equipment was
assembled on a long bench and at the centre, a crucible piped liquid through a sealed condenser into an
alembic. Behind, rows of bell jars and dishes held unidentified substances and she caught a whiff of
sulphur. Most worryingly, there was a magical link from the crucible to the lattice net around the
phoenixes. She did not want to tamper with that without knowing what it was.
"Alchemy." She required more information. "You're an alchemist."
"I am and you are about to witness my final work. My Magnum Opus." He gazed at the phoenixes.
"Good. I was right to let you in. She refused to rise until you arrived."
Rhianne had extended her wings as the male sang, his song redolent with seduction. As she watched, he
stared intently towards Alexia, with intelligence and something else in his eyes. Fear.
"That's it?" she asked. "Mating birds? What for? Do you realise that she's human?"
Geoffrey's laugh was bogspawn dry. "That's obvious. I have been waiting here for over fifty years,
watching the phoenixes. They are an unforgettable sight, skimming the winds, hovering brilliances,
celebrating midsummer's dawn, and their cry at winter sunset would make you weep."
He might merely be mad. "Waiting for what?" she asked.
"I am in search of eternity. How long do you live in the Wards? Hundreds of years, granted longevity by
the powers you serve. However, few in the world of men greet their century. I have, more than once.
Initially, I merely wished to be invulnerable and as you have seen, I am immune to attack. It was as I was
calculating new theories to extend my days that I discovered the mathematics of life itself and finally, I
found the recipe for immortality. The quintessence distilled from another soul."
"You killed those people downstairs, didn't you? You took their souls to experiment and created the
bogspawn." Her voice rose. His was a greed that consumed everything and left only husks behind while
he stole lives to enhance his own. She twitched yet stayed calm; Rhianne was in genuine danger from
this lunatic.
"They proved and aided my research. They were going to die anyway." Not a flicker of remorse.
He was so riddled with evil she began to feel ill. He continued, "Now I'm so old that my body is tired and I
need not just life, but youth. The phoenixes hold that secret and the male will give it to me."
"You're going to immolate yourself and rise from the ashes?" She kept her tone neutral.
"No. That's a trait of phoenix inflamma. This is phoenix occulta. When the male wishes to be reborn he
selects a mate, they court and when they are ready, he transmutes himself into a quintessence of æther
and enters the female. She lays an egg which hatches and he is reborn. This male has been searching for
a suitable mate for about ten years and when you transformed Rhianne, he found one."
She could not believe it. "You're going to let him impregnate her to lay an egg? You can't. Do you know
who she is, for Mikren's sake? The Warden of Fire's daughter."
"And therefore highly attractive to a phoenix. He’d love her to have his egg." Geoffrey sounded so
satisfied she half debated another dagger thrust.
"If you harm her heir, the Warden will more than destroy you. She embodies the Fire and she can burn
you in a hell forever." Rhianne had joined the male's dance and the exquisite harmony of their duet
matched the music of the stars.
"No, my dear Alexia, you miss the point. Rhianne will not be harmed. I will catch the male's essence when
he changes and siphon it into the crucible. There it is refined and passed to the condenser which
separates the soul from the magic that rejuvenates him. His soul is removed here," he pointed to a
retort, "and his æther comes into here." The last alembic. "I mix it into a compound and drink it. The
potion will give me eternal rebirth."
She had no idea if it would work, but had grasped one thing. "The phoenix dies forever?" She sheathed
her sword and dagger.
"The male will, but Rhianne will be untouched and you can have her back if she plays her part. If not, well,
my magic is linked to them both and I always need life."
She did not doubt the threat. She could exchange the male's existence for Rhianne's freedom and
safety. It was only a bird and there would be no egg, no trouble. As she thought that, the male, now
hovering expectantly, gazed at her again. He knew, understood his peril and he implicitly trusted her.
Like Rhianne. What was it about the æther that made people want to trust her with their souls? Alexia
shivered.
The alchemist smiled. "It's time. I will empower the crucible to receive the energy. You're about to
witness a great event, my lady. No one has ever done this before."
"What, stolen another's existence to enhance their own? Been driven by sheer greed? Oh, I think that's
been done a million times, Geoffrey." She replied softly as the phoenixes mingled together in a rush of
fire.
A few seconds to make the decision, to choose.
Rhianne shrieked once.
Was it advice, a warning, or another dreadful trust?
The male was turning from ash-black to a shimmer, flames covered his body and Alexia could see him
becoming pure æther and soul. She had to act or his beauty would vanish and only the alchemist,
depraved and diseased with his selfish desires, would remain.
Geoffrey moved towards the table. It was now.
It was Rhianne or the phoenix.
Alexia's heart raced. Or…
Rhianne said Alexia must have a magical unity. War and healing: she did deal in the transformations of
life and death.
The alchemist was sick and she could help him.
"I'm not sorry," she said as she strode towards him, hands open in peace, radiating æther. "I'm here for
people like you."
"No!" His whisper was caught in the onslaught of her magic. He struggled wildly but feebly as she
embraced him and let the æther work its healing.
"The gift of the æther." She spoke quietly.
The alchemist began to wither as nature took its course. As he died, the last vibrant notes of the male
filled the room and when Geoffrey was dust, she turned around. The magical cage had gone and Rhianne
was alone
Alexia held out her gauntleted fist and Rhianne flew up to settle on her arm. "I can't change you back
carrying that egg. Hells, what will your mother will say?" She considered Rhianne. "At least you're safe.
Maybe I got it right."
Rhianne trilled in what might be agreement.
~ * ~
The Ward was a welcome home.
Massive columns surrounded Alexia as she walked into the Hall of Fire. Power radiated everywhere, from
the walls, the floor designs and great yew doors. High above, the vaulted roof gleamed with a carmine
hue, and at the far end was an enthroned figure, resplendent and glittering in the reflected magic. The
Warden was ever here, guarding the portal to the Archetype of Fire, one of the great energies which
underpinned the universe. In the window-like space behind her, Alexia could see the eternal flames
flickering, and sensed their hunger and heat, while the Hall remained cool and quiet. The Fire was not in
this world.
Rhianne stirred and launched into the air as Alexia reached the foot of the dais and bowed.
"Alexia." The Warden assessed them carefully. "Why you have changed my daughter into a phoenix?"
She was prone to swift justice and Alexia winced. "I can explain, madam."
"Please do." She stretched out her hand and the phoenix landed on the throne's arm.
As Alexia talked, Rhianne hopped to the floor and the Warden casually threw a ball of fire over her.
"Phoenix occulta," the Warden said when Alexia finished, "like to lay in a fire." She studied Alexia again.
"You appear slightly less tortured."
Talking to the Warden had permitted her the benefit of hindsight. "Maybe this gave me a new viewpoint.
The bogspawn had to be put to rest somehow. I restored the marsh and killed Geoffrey the same way.
Perhaps I'm not a contradiction, but a strange whole. I need to think about what Rhianne calls my
underlying consistency."
Her words earned her an amused, wry smile. "A couple of hundred years and you might be at threshold
of wisdom."
A squawk came as Rhianne fluttered out of the hungry flames, apparently pleased with herself. She
hopped down the steps and stared at Alexia.
I can do this. She hesitated at a sudden thought, the alluring temptation of power. I could make her a
little less self-assured, maybe even a little less arrogant.
The Warden's gaze suggested that she understood Alexia's predicament and part sympathised. "Do
your best, Alexia." Her voice was soft.
A less arrogant Rhianne would be very pleasant, as Alexia was too often made to feel stupid. It was
tempting. Too tempting…
It seemed eternity watched her until she took a deep breath. Her best. Hells. Any real tampering with
Rhianne would make her as bad as Geoffrey.
Hair. Go for the hair.
Æther swiftly swept around Rhianne in a blanket of crackling energy. Sparks rose and Alexia faltered at
its speed, glimpsed the Warden's inscrutable face and tried not to panic. Once more she shaped power
as she recalled Rhianne in all her moods, her voice and figure, the laughter in her eyes. Her love and
trust; the feel of her soul. The æther pulsed dazzling colours as it tumbled about them in a cascade of
magic and she melded its rainbow into one. There was a flash of white and the magic vanished.
Rhianne shook herself happily.
"I think I got everything," Alexia said in relief. "And she's still far too clever for my liking. I merely
adjusted her hair, madam."
Rhianne felt her shorter locks. "Nice. One of us has to have brains, Alex and see how well my plan
worked." She bowed. "Mother. We…hey, look!"
The ball of fire at the Warden's feet glowed intense red. Suddenly, it enfolded inwards to reveal a purple
and silver egg which glistened, almost translucent and then cracked. From the shell, a chick regarded
Alexia.
Maybe Rhianne was right and it had all worked quite well.
"Welcome to the Ward of Fire," Alexia said. "And, a happy birthday, Warden."
resignation and leaned against the cool granite
cliff-face. This should have been a beautiful dawn,
camped high on the escarpment, with a marvellous
view of the rolling plains and glint of the distant sea
below. Sadly, everything was eclipsed by the massive
fiery sigils burning in the heavens above them. The
symbols might be a profound magical working, but
their flickering fires had turned the land into a carmine
hell.
She shifted her sword-belt and eyed Rhianne wearily.
"It really isn't working."
Her companion made an abrupt gesture with her
hands and the flames died. "No, it's not." Rhianne
flicked back her long fair hair and then unexpectedly,
smiled. "I do know why though."
"You do?" This was news.
"Of course. I worked it out last night while enduring
the misery of your dreadful mood." She shook her
head. "Hey, don't deny it! Aren't we really here
because of you? I heard you tell the Warden you
needed space away from the magic of the Ward.
Get out and see the normal world a bit, you said."
"Yes, but that was a cover to let us find a phoenix."
Alexia refused to comment on her bad temper.
"You lied to the Warden?" Rhianne raised a delicate
eyebrow.
"No! It isn't like that. You know it isn't." As usual, Rhianne was outflanking her and Alexia felt on the
defensive.
"Maybe, maybe not. You know what I think about your problems?" Not waiting for any reply, Rhianne
continued, "There has to be an underlying magical consistency in your powers which explains both your
healing and warrior skills. When I've worked it out, I'll tell you." An insouciant grin as she added that last.
"Thanks. I'll try to manage until then." Her reply was dry. It was not so easy—coming late to magic was
one thing; to use the æther, the essence of the universe, was completely another. Once she had been a
dedicated soldier and life had been easy. Now every moment seemed a moral quandary. "Can't we go to
Rijada and buy a carpet?" It was a vain hope as she turned the conversation towards their immediate
concern.
"Not a chance. The Warden of Fire is about to be three hundred years old and we need a suitable gift.
The phoenix is the bird of fire and she'll love it. All we have to do is catch one."
"We've been here for five days and not caught a glimmer of a phoenix."
"True, but we know they lair here. What we need is a female. Look," Rhianne turned charming, which was
worrying at the best of times. "You have the most amazing ability is to change things and you can
shapeshift yourself. Turn me into a phoenix, I'll fly the summoning pattern of fire to call a male and he'll
follow me to the Ward. Surely any phoenix worth its salt will want to live in the Ward of Fire?"
Alexia was horrified. "No way! You don't understand. I can't put you back the same as before. That's
how æther works." Rhianne was crazy to even think of it.
"Actually, after years of study, I do understand the basic magical premise that the æther transforms!
Most theory follows from that. However," and she exuded more charm, "I trust you. You wouldn't
change anything important about me."
She refused to play god with Rhianne's soul. "No."
"You don't trust yourself?" Rhianne casually threw another log on their campfire. "You don't think you
can do it?"
Could she? A shiver of magic inside assured her it was within her capabilities. But…. "What would I tell
the Warden?"
"Don't tell her anything. Come on, Alex. It'll be fun."
Rhianne had the certainty of one brought up with and skilled in magic. It was also true that if she made
as attractive a phoenix as she did human, she'd be irresistible.
"Not if I can't turn you back to pretty much what you are now." Her resolve wavered as the idea grew in
her mind.
"Ha! You'll never know unless you try. I'll wager you can."
It's your very self, Rhianne! Hells, can you really trust me so much? Still, it was a wonderful
opportunity.
"The phoenix will be the best present ever for the Warden." Rhianne almost bounced up and down.
"Please."
So how far did Alexia trust herself? Clearly not as far as Rhianne did. She stared at the ground,
considering it.
"Alexia." Rhianne took her hand, radiating hope, enthusiasm and expectation.
Alexia came to a sudden decision. "Very well." She swallowed, hoping she would not regret it.
"We should do it now before the sun is fully risen."
The young sun was the best time to catch a phoenix and Alexia quelled her last doubts. With one easy
thought, she let the æther flow out, surrounding and caressing her with its aura of glimmering rainbow.
A moment and it spilled over to encase Rhianne in its gentle light.
Too late for regrets; the transformation began immediately and she concentrated, shaping magic and her
own desire.
The æther cleared to reveal the outcome.
Rhianne was a fabulous phoenix. With a teasing trill at Alexia, she launched into the air, elegant and
graceful as she swept through the breezes. The new sun illuminated her wings when she lifted upwards
and touched her flame-trail with gold. She sang and her beguiling melody wrenched Alexia's heart—a
harp and a flute echoed with the rush of a mountain spring, the promise of growth and rebirth. It was no
surprise when an answering song sounded a deeper counterpoint, whispering of the fullness and joy of
life.
The male appeared in a burst of purple flame, silver-white where Rhianne was gold, more sombre where
she gleamed, and Alexia guessed he was an older bird. He hovered for a second, wings caressing the
thermal before he darted down and zoomed around the preening Rhianne. She gave a haunting cry and
soared. He followed and they flew as one, dancing the winds, hunting and chasing with Rhianne
swooping and mocking the male, forever out of reach. Behind them, their fire-trails twisted together and
their voices harmonised in a symphony of...
Lust. That flight, that song was nothing but lust. They were mating.
"NO! NO! NO!" She screamed at Rhianne, but the mage was all phoenix now and lost in the male's
attentions.
She was so furious with herself, with Rhianne, with the phoenix for its courtship dance, with the Warden
for being three hundred, that she ignored the sudden shift of energies. The wind blew stronger and on
its breezes it brought a magic that swirled upwards. She hardly heeded it as she shouted, "Rhianne! I’ve
got to turn you back!"
The phoenixes flirted blissfully while the power grew below.
"Rhianne!" She tried again. "Please!"
The energy was dark and thick before she truly noticed it; a black whirl that spiralled with slow menace
ever higher. A dry scent of dust and cobwebs tainted the fresh air as it passed over her in deliberate
billows, slithering towards the cavorting birds. They were too engrossed to sense any danger, but
Alexia's horrified anger quickly became a gut-churning fear. "What? Rhianne! Come here!"
The blackness reached out to encompass the phoenixes. She watched, unable to save them and her
æther useless against the evil she could taste and smell. Rhianne might know a counter-magic, but
Rhianne’s bird brain was consumed by desire. The cloud rolled inexorably onwards to completely engulf
the mating couple. With a clap of energy that blew Alexia backwards, they vanished.
~ * ~
"Oh, Mikren," Alexia muttered the oath. "I need a decent fight, not this."
The landscape was not a reassuring sight.
One night, two days and anything could have happened as she hurried across the country, guided by the
rough map that she had sketched while the magical residue of their passage hung in the air. Now she
guessed she had arrived at the right place.
The dank marsh reeked of decay and stagnant water. No path, but the patches of vivid green grass
suggested there was enough solid ground to keep her dry as she made her way towards the fortified
greystone tower. She was partially tempted by the grasses, but her instinct for danger screamed a
warning. She pushed the nearest greenery with her boot. Her foot sank; beneath that deceiving carpet
lurked a quick-sucking bog and a stifling death. In fact, the whole place seemed dead, with no sounds of
life, no splash of frogs or toads, call of fowl or buzz of busy insects. Not even a single marsh flower—no
meadowsweet, moss, fern or bristling thistle. Just clumps of grass and the brown-black stinking mud.
The scene hurt her, deep within. It was a swamp and it should be a mass of life. No marsh was so
lifeless, so empty of everything that should make it a wonder to behold. It shouted disease, blight and
abuse. It hardly took mage sight to tell her the place was soaked in magic and she tensed, ready to draw
her sword, desperate for action.
No obvious or easy opponent appeared.
Frustrated, she glared at the tower where she presumed Rhianne was held captive. If anything happened
to her, Alexia would never forgive herself and the Warden would never forgive her. Dammit, she was
supposed to take care of them both when they left the Ward.
Must hurry. And I still have to turn her back when I've rescued her.
That was a nagging fear that she ignored. It had not been part of the plan to lose phoenix-Rhianne.
She tried a careful step and then stopped as an unexpected pain shot through her. The land screamed
for her healing and she simply could not ignore its cry. Worried moments passed as she procrastinated,
but its sickness reverberated in her very bones and finally, she crouched down.
"Hang on, Rhianne. I just need to fix this." She touched the earth. "Be well."
Æther wrapped itself about her, rushed out and sank into the ground. She inhaled the æther's perfume
of health, saw it spread, weaving through the undergrowth, penetrating mud and regenerating pools
with its essence. Two candlemarks passed as she knelt, mind lost in the transformation, until she felt the
æther thread happily throughout the damaged land. It might not be instantaneous, but the marsh would
recover.
It was now merely a bog—it stank, was still dank and gloomy, but she could hear faint sounds of
movement. Fertile mud was spawning, hidden roots and wind-born seeds were growing, birds would
return and with them, midges, flies and other pests. For the first time since Rhianne had vanished, Alexia
smiled.
Then, a tiny thought, bringing a dangerous temptation: What could I change when I transform her
back?
~ * ~
The sun was westering as she approached her destination. As she halted to survey the defences, she
caught again that scent of death. Something was not quite right and she bent down to feel the soil.
Hells, the illness was seeping back. Alexia frowned. Something or someone had leeched her magic from
the ground. They had to be here, in this grim tower, harvesting the æther she had given to the swamp.
She stared for a moment at the raised portcullis and the iron-riveted door. It was ajar, welcoming her.
A trap in waiting, set by one who could draw out the life from the earth.
Rhianne. If they could do this to the swamp, what could they do to her?
Damn this! She kicked at the door to open it further and strode in, sword flashing into one hand, teeth
bared in a snarl. She would kill anyone who had harmed or threatened Rhianne. Five paces took her past
the tiny gatehouse, under the murder-hole and into the courtyard.
Silence.
The bog had spread under the walls in glistening ominous patches. The ramparts themselves were
empty; six feet thick with stairs leading up to watch-points and a stone walkway for patrolling guards.
The tower loomed before her and there were two wooden huts to one side. Everything was dusty,
littered with piles of rubbish, broken barrels and planks of wood. She paused, looking, listening, even
sniffing the still air. There was nothing. No wind, no birds, nothing.
More dead in than out.
She touched the flagstones. Æther flowed sluggishly inwards, in a direct line to the tower and she took a
deep, unsteady breath to restrain her rage.
Gloop.
The noise made her look around.
In the shadows under the guardwalk, something moved. A marsh patch suddenly belched a stink of
swamp gas.
And then appeared a hand, an arm, a head.
Alexia froze in shock.
Gloop.
A figure dragged itself from the bog, mud caking its dry and wrinkled body. Metal armour glinted on
leathery limbs, a gorget glinted around its whip-like throat and it wielded a bastard sword in one hand. It
shambled forward, and under the open helm she saw a frozen grin on its mummified face and dried
eyeholes burning with marsh light.
The gorget told her something. Bogspawn; a revenant created from a corpse buried in peat and which
could be killed by decapitation. "Finally got my battle," Alexia muttered as she dropped into a defensive
pose, unsheathing her main-gauche.
As it approached, she closed and made a low swing at the desiccated legs. Then she gagged as an acrid
scent almost overwhelmed her. Tannin! The new wine of Calsa would never taste the same.
The creature parried and made a slow riposte. She stepped away, executed a lateral slice and her sword
tore across the tough skin of its upper chest. Simultaneously, she stabbed with her dagger, straight into
its heart.
Shreds of dried skin fell to the ground and she heard a bone crack. The injury did not appear to hurt it
and it attacked with a vicious lunge at her belly. It missed, but it was getting faster. It easily avoided her
poke at the rusty gorget and replied with a powerful thrust that she barely knocked aside.
She wished she had worn her chain and not the lighter jack. "Come on, it's one bog man." Only a matter
of time before she beheaded it, but she would have to hack through that armour at its throat. She
feinted a blow, half thrust and whipped her sword up to slice its left arm, severing muscle, tendon and
bone. Her next attack was aimed to disarm it and permit her to dismember it at her leisure. Her dagger
threatened the glowing eyes and her sword glinted wickedly as she cut out and its weapon fell from its
severed hand. Finally, in a wide arc, all her weight behind her blade, she chopped its head above the
gorget, ripping through the jugular and spine.
"Hells!" Something hit her in the back, driving her jack's metal plates into her flesh.
A second spawn raised a club. Alexia ducked and ran, now grateful for the speed of her lighter armour.
Further movement caught her eye. Mikren, the bog pits were birthing a horde of revenants and she
would be badly outnumbered in a few moments. The tower was across the courtyard, and there were
three bogspawn in her way while her back would be vulnerable to others. Alexia hesitated.
Retreat was not an option with Rhianne captive; while the bogspawn were sluggish now, that state would
not last long. "Bastards!" She worked out why her æther had been diverted from its healing task—it was
being used to animate the corpses. That knowledge leant her pure fury as her sword swept right before
she dived left and rolled up to jump over a smashed barrel. She raced away and the enemy followed,
leaving the tower entrance unguarded. Good. Not intelligent, and simply drawn by her life-energy.
Air whistled and reflex made her leap aside as a morning star smashed onto the flagstones, missing her
by a hairsbreadth. She swung around to encounter five of them, jostling each other to attack, and with
more behind. She desperately traded blows with the nearest, trying to dart around it and as she did, she
ducked the whirling ball of the morning star which luckily impacted into the head of her opponent. As it
collapsed, Alexia doubled back towards the tower.
Ah! An arrow pierced her lower arm, went through the jack and into her flesh. She pulled it out as more
skimmed about her and another glanced off her boot. However, now only one enemy, wielding a great
axe, stood between her and the door. She grinned madly as the axe carved the air and she slipped
under the blade to close with it.
Almost in its embrace, she could smell the tannin while its long-hafted weapon flailed uselessly, easily
missing her. She jabbed her dagger into its neck, pushed her blade in hard and savagely tore away the
peat-preserved skin until she grinded on bone. She hacked until its head was half-severed and the
spawn collapsed. Over the body and she fumbled to turn the door's massive iron latch. It opened, she
fell inside and discarded her sword and dagger to pull the bolts across.
Alexia’s heart pounded, her chest heaved and hands trembled. Good fight, but a little close for comfort.
No blows, no hammering on her wooden barrier, so perhaps the bogspawn could not sense her inside
these walls. Relief washed over her as she retrieved her weapons and cleaned them on her breeches. Her
wound was dripping blood and she concentrated until a rainbow light swirled about her arm, healing
slashed skin and re-knitting the torn muscles. Better, although sadly, the æther could not replace blood
or lessen the raw impact of her injury.
Then she heard the eerie calling of a phoenix and put her pain aside. The spiral stairs invited her upwards
and she took them two at a time.
Beyond another open door was a congenial room with glass windows that afforded a vista of the swamp
leading into lush meadows and hills dotted with sheep. She strode in, eyeing the apparatus on her left
before noticing the phoenixes at the end of the chamber. A magical barrier glimmered, enclosing them
with latticed lines from floor to ceiling. The male was darting around Rhianne, his dance magnificent, his
purple plumage darkened to black and wings tips a silver fading into white. Seemingly refusing him,
Rhianne mantled on a fiery perch, her own plumage an iridescent flame red and wings golden-flecked.
"Rhianne!" When Alexia spoke both birds turned their sharp eyes towards her.
"Alexia, I presume?" A sudden male voice.
He had hidden behind the door. She faced him, sword raised.
Her enemy was thin, white haired and his skin was wrinkled with the prominent veins and liver spots of
the old. However, he stood straight enough and his half-bow was firm. "I am Geoffrey and of course,
your æther proclaimed your identity.” He smiled. “My thanks. I've not been able to animate my creatures
recently. Once the surrounding countryside was drained, they simply returned to their graves."
Smug bastard. Any desire to negotiate vanished. "You! You stole Rhianne and then my power to revive
your bogspawn! Why the hells shouldn't I kill you?" She was white with outrage, the sword wanting to
leap from her hand and into his throat.
"Go ahead. They say you're good." He mocked her.
Unfettered anger mingled with fear overcame her and she lunged, hard and fast to skewer him.
"Mikren!" Her blade bounced off an invisible shield and clanged into the wall. That made her withdrew a
moment, but she could not resist trying another stab. It also failed and so she lashed out with a kick,
which merely bruised her foot. Damn. Quiet reigned as she grudgingly acknowledged that she would have
to talk to him. "Why? How?" she asked finally.
He appeared relaxed as he gestured at the room and she examined it. A collection of equipment was
assembled on a long bench and at the centre, a crucible piped liquid through a sealed condenser into an
alembic. Behind, rows of bell jars and dishes held unidentified substances and she caught a whiff of
sulphur. Most worryingly, there was a magical link from the crucible to the lattice net around the
phoenixes. She did not want to tamper with that without knowing what it was.
"Alchemy." She required more information. "You're an alchemist."
"I am and you are about to witness my final work. My Magnum Opus." He gazed at the phoenixes.
"Good. I was right to let you in. She refused to rise until you arrived."
Rhianne had extended her wings as the male sang, his song redolent with seduction. As she watched, he
stared intently towards Alexia, with intelligence and something else in his eyes. Fear.
"That's it?" she asked. "Mating birds? What for? Do you realise that she's human?"
Geoffrey's laugh was bogspawn dry. "That's obvious. I have been waiting here for over fifty years,
watching the phoenixes. They are an unforgettable sight, skimming the winds, hovering brilliances,
celebrating midsummer's dawn, and their cry at winter sunset would make you weep."
He might merely be mad. "Waiting for what?" she asked.
"I am in search of eternity. How long do you live in the Wards? Hundreds of years, granted longevity by
the powers you serve. However, few in the world of men greet their century. I have, more than once.
Initially, I merely wished to be invulnerable and as you have seen, I am immune to attack. It was as I was
calculating new theories to extend my days that I discovered the mathematics of life itself and finally, I
found the recipe for immortality. The quintessence distilled from another soul."
"You killed those people downstairs, didn't you? You took their souls to experiment and created the
bogspawn." Her voice rose. His was a greed that consumed everything and left only husks behind while
he stole lives to enhance his own. She twitched yet stayed calm; Rhianne was in genuine danger from
this lunatic.
"They proved and aided my research. They were going to die anyway." Not a flicker of remorse.
He was so riddled with evil she began to feel ill. He continued, "Now I'm so old that my body is tired and I
need not just life, but youth. The phoenixes hold that secret and the male will give it to me."
"You're going to immolate yourself and rise from the ashes?" She kept her tone neutral.
"No. That's a trait of phoenix inflamma. This is phoenix occulta. When the male wishes to be reborn he
selects a mate, they court and when they are ready, he transmutes himself into a quintessence of æther
and enters the female. She lays an egg which hatches and he is reborn. This male has been searching for
a suitable mate for about ten years and when you transformed Rhianne, he found one."
She could not believe it. "You're going to let him impregnate her to lay an egg? You can't. Do you know
who she is, for Mikren's sake? The Warden of Fire's daughter."
"And therefore highly attractive to a phoenix. He’d love her to have his egg." Geoffrey sounded so
satisfied she half debated another dagger thrust.
"If you harm her heir, the Warden will more than destroy you. She embodies the Fire and she can burn
you in a hell forever." Rhianne had joined the male's dance and the exquisite harmony of their duet
matched the music of the stars.
"No, my dear Alexia, you miss the point. Rhianne will not be harmed. I will catch the male's essence when
he changes and siphon it into the crucible. There it is refined and passed to the condenser which
separates the soul from the magic that rejuvenates him. His soul is removed here," he pointed to a
retort, "and his æther comes into here." The last alembic. "I mix it into a compound and drink it. The
potion will give me eternal rebirth."
She had no idea if it would work, but had grasped one thing. "The phoenix dies forever?" She sheathed
her sword and dagger.
"The male will, but Rhianne will be untouched and you can have her back if she plays her part. If not, well,
my magic is linked to them both and I always need life."
She did not doubt the threat. She could exchange the male's existence for Rhianne's freedom and
safety. It was only a bird and there would be no egg, no trouble. As she thought that, the male, now
hovering expectantly, gazed at her again. He knew, understood his peril and he implicitly trusted her.
Like Rhianne. What was it about the æther that made people want to trust her with their souls? Alexia
shivered.
The alchemist smiled. "It's time. I will empower the crucible to receive the energy. You're about to
witness a great event, my lady. No one has ever done this before."
"What, stolen another's existence to enhance their own? Been driven by sheer greed? Oh, I think that's
been done a million times, Geoffrey." She replied softly as the phoenixes mingled together in a rush of
fire.
A few seconds to make the decision, to choose.
Rhianne shrieked once.
Was it advice, a warning, or another dreadful trust?
The male was turning from ash-black to a shimmer, flames covered his body and Alexia could see him
becoming pure æther and soul. She had to act or his beauty would vanish and only the alchemist,
depraved and diseased with his selfish desires, would remain.
Geoffrey moved towards the table. It was now.
It was Rhianne or the phoenix.
Alexia's heart raced. Or…
Rhianne said Alexia must have a magical unity. War and healing: she did deal in the transformations of
life and death.
The alchemist was sick and she could help him.
"I'm not sorry," she said as she strode towards him, hands open in peace, radiating æther. "I'm here for
people like you."
"No!" His whisper was caught in the onslaught of her magic. He struggled wildly but feebly as she
embraced him and let the æther work its healing.
"The gift of the æther." She spoke quietly.
The alchemist began to wither as nature took its course. As he died, the last vibrant notes of the male
filled the room and when Geoffrey was dust, she turned around. The magical cage had gone and Rhianne
was alone
Alexia held out her gauntleted fist and Rhianne flew up to settle on her arm. "I can't change you back
carrying that egg. Hells, what will your mother will say?" She considered Rhianne. "At least you're safe.
Maybe I got it right."
Rhianne trilled in what might be agreement.
~ * ~
The Ward was a welcome home.
Massive columns surrounded Alexia as she walked into the Hall of Fire. Power radiated everywhere, from
the walls, the floor designs and great yew doors. High above, the vaulted roof gleamed with a carmine
hue, and at the far end was an enthroned figure, resplendent and glittering in the reflected magic. The
Warden was ever here, guarding the portal to the Archetype of Fire, one of the great energies which
underpinned the universe. In the window-like space behind her, Alexia could see the eternal flames
flickering, and sensed their hunger and heat, while the Hall remained cool and quiet. The Fire was not in
this world.
Rhianne stirred and launched into the air as Alexia reached the foot of the dais and bowed.
"Alexia." The Warden assessed them carefully. "Why you have changed my daughter into a phoenix?"
She was prone to swift justice and Alexia winced. "I can explain, madam."
"Please do." She stretched out her hand and the phoenix landed on the throne's arm.
As Alexia talked, Rhianne hopped to the floor and the Warden casually threw a ball of fire over her.
"Phoenix occulta," the Warden said when Alexia finished, "like to lay in a fire." She studied Alexia again.
"You appear slightly less tortured."
Talking to the Warden had permitted her the benefit of hindsight. "Maybe this gave me a new viewpoint.
The bogspawn had to be put to rest somehow. I restored the marsh and killed Geoffrey the same way.
Perhaps I'm not a contradiction, but a strange whole. I need to think about what Rhianne calls my
underlying consistency."
Her words earned her an amused, wry smile. "A couple of hundred years and you might be at threshold
of wisdom."
A squawk came as Rhianne fluttered out of the hungry flames, apparently pleased with herself. She
hopped down the steps and stared at Alexia.
I can do this. She hesitated at a sudden thought, the alluring temptation of power. I could make her a
little less self-assured, maybe even a little less arrogant.
The Warden's gaze suggested that she understood Alexia's predicament and part sympathised. "Do
your best, Alexia." Her voice was soft.
A less arrogant Rhianne would be very pleasant, as Alexia was too often made to feel stupid. It was
tempting. Too tempting…
It seemed eternity watched her until she took a deep breath. Her best. Hells. Any real tampering with
Rhianne would make her as bad as Geoffrey.
Hair. Go for the hair.
Æther swiftly swept around Rhianne in a blanket of crackling energy. Sparks rose and Alexia faltered at
its speed, glimpsed the Warden's inscrutable face and tried not to panic. Once more she shaped power
as she recalled Rhianne in all her moods, her voice and figure, the laughter in her eyes. Her love and
trust; the feel of her soul. The æther pulsed dazzling colours as it tumbled about them in a cascade of
magic and she melded its rainbow into one. There was a flash of white and the magic vanished.
Rhianne shook herself happily.
"I think I got everything," Alexia said in relief. "And she's still far too clever for my liking. I merely
adjusted her hair, madam."
Rhianne felt her shorter locks. "Nice. One of us has to have brains, Alex and see how well my plan
worked." She bowed. "Mother. We…hey, look!"
The ball of fire at the Warden's feet glowed intense red. Suddenly, it enfolded inwards to reveal a purple
and silver egg which glistened, almost translucent and then cracked. From the shell, a chick regarded
Alexia.
Maybe Rhianne was right and it had all worked quite well.
"Welcome to the Ward of Fire," Alexia said. "And, a happy birthday, Warden."
This is DAT Anghelatos first US sale and is a story set in the worlds of the
novels she is currently writing. My previous credits have been to
Eurotemps, an anthology originally published by Penguin / Midnight Rose
(to be reprinted soon in e-format) and to the British small press.
She lives in the beautiful countryside in the west of England.
novels she is currently writing. My previous credits have been to
Eurotemps, an anthology originally published by Penguin / Midnight Rose
(to be reprinted soon in e-format) and to the British small press.
She lives in the beautiful countryside in the west of England.