Page 11 of Cry of the Firebird

"They are already dead! You can't save them, Anya. If you go out there, you die too," he said and pulled her back. "Pack! Now!"

Anya ran back to her bedroom and blindly stuffed jeans and shirts into a backpack. She put Eikki's favorite coat on and reached for the pistol and bullets he stored behind it.

"Hurry, Anya! Leave the gun. It won't work in Skazki anyway," Yvan shouted as she grabbed Eikki's journals and put them in her pack. "Is there any way out of here besides through the doors?"

The house shook again, and Yvan's hand shot out to steady her.

"Come out, Yvan, and I might be persuaded to spare that lying whore who's hiding you!" Vasilli called. "Hurry, or I will kill her slowly in front of you."

Anya loaded her pistol. "Like hell, you will."

"That won't do much good against him," Yvan said as he lowered the barrel. "Is there a way out or not?"

Anya glared through the window at the burning barn. "The cellar."

Yvan grabbed her hand, pulled her toward the kitchen, and down the steps into the dark. "Now what?"

Anya took two bottles of vodka off a shelf. One went into her bag, and she took a swig from the other. "Now, we pull this shelf back and get out of here."

Yvan took the bottle from her. "No more vodka. You are no use to me drunk and scared."

"The only reason I'm letting you push me around right now is because I'm drunk," she replied, raising her chin.

"Fight with me later when we both survive."

They pushed a set of shelving out of the way to reveal a tunnel, and Anya grabbed an old, dusty flashlight from where it hung on an iron nail. They used a handle on the back of the shelf to pull the secret door shut behind them.

Anya turned on the flashlight, grateful the batteries still worked. "This way."

Above the surface,Vasilli's power and anger twisted together in his veins. "Yvan!!" he shouted again, to no reply.

Focusing, Vasilli raised his arms and released his power. The earth shook as a wave of magic surged forward and buckled the house in half before it burst into flames.

Vasilli was still watching the house burn when a wolf trotted up and sat down on his heels. There was a sickening sound of bones snapping and a piercing yowl of pain before a bony man was sitting on his haunches.

"You made it finally. I hope you're in the mood for tracking," Vasilli said.

"Are you sure they survived that?" Vischto asked, nodding toward the pile of glowing coals.

Vasilli smiled. "We'll find out soon enough. Yvan has the firebird inside of him. It might feel generous and want to protect them."

The woman had been a surprise. Vasilli knew a great deal about this family and the magic that they had in their blood. Anya seemed to be no threat, and he had only touched a little magic coming from her. She obviously had no training to usewhat she had. He was pleased that Ilya's spawn had fallen so far from greatness. Watching his enemy's house burn finally had its own kind of satisfaction.

"Let's hope the firebird doesn't immolate itself again like last time—" Vischto yelped as Vasilli backhanded him, sending him sprawling to the dirt.

"Don't you dare mention it again, or I'll skin you. I've waited over a hundred years to get this fucking bird and its power," Vasilli hissed. "Finding it before anyone else is all that matters now, so we will wait until this place is fucking ashes to make sure it's here."

Ladislav had sent a message to him earlier in the day, wanting him to go back to Moscow. Vasilli had been on another job, hunting people of a magical bloodline that Ladislav needed for gods knew what.

Vasilli had to tell him about the firebird's rebirth to get the old prick off his back. He would never give such power to a fool like Ladislav, but he had to play second-best for a little while longer.

Vasilli would take the firebird's magic for himself and finally destroy the threat of it and his brother once and for all. No more would he have to worry about the truth of vague old prophecies from Ilya. No more would he have to hide his power from lesser men like Ladislav.

Vasilli watched the last of Ilya's line burn…and his smile widened.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The tunnel stretched out like a black void in front of them. Anya had expected it to be filled with spiders and broken beams, but it was the opposite—dry and well-maintained. The one time she had found the tunnel when she was little, Eikki had been furious.

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