Page 61 of Cry of the Firebird

She remembered how the night smelled, the scent of pine, the muskiness of the animals coming from the barn, wood smoke from the house, and the smell of the firebird itself. It reminded her of ozone, the way a thunderstorm smelled, hot and charged, crackling with energy.

Across the table, Katya gasped so loudly that Anya jumped, snapping her out of the moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect to see the firebird like that," Katya apologized.

"You should have been there. It was incredible," Anya said, smiling at the memory.

"This is good. It means Anya can find the focus she needs," Aleksandra interrupted. "Try it again."

So they tried and they tried and they tried. Anya was ready to give up entirely when heat and the adrenaline rush of her magic shot through her and reached out of her body.

I don't know why they are pushing her so hard. Poor thing has had a lifetime of surprises in the last few weeks, Katya's voice rolled through her mind.

I'm sure I will live to see more surprises, Anya thought.

Katya clapped her hands excitedly. "She did it! It worked."

"Too much magic," Baba Zosia scolded. "Could taste it in the air. Small, small."

Now Anya had touched it once, the power purred softly through her, and this time it only lightly brushed Katya's mind. She was thinking of Izrayl getting her some water while she was drunk the previous night and felt a fresh wave of embarrassment.

Don't feel that way. Izrayl was trying to do a nice thing, Anya said.

I shouldn't have been drinking at all. I am meant to be protecting the tribe.

"It's working," Katya said aloud.

"Good! Good!" Baba Zosia clapped her hands loudly as Anya opened her eyes. "Now, again!"

For Anya,the day was spent inside with the three women, but outside was a flurry of activity. The tribe would move on that night, leaving little trace that they were ever there. Baba Zosia had decided it was time for them to move to the winter grounds. No word was mentioned of Vasilli.

By nightfall, everyone from the youngest infant to the oldest grandfather was ready to leave. Anya dressed warmly and shouldered her bag before stepping out into what remained of the camp. Horses were being hitched to caravans and the small bells sewn onto their harnesses rang nervously as they fussed. Yvan stood to one side of all the commotion, and Anya hurried to join him.

"Be careful you don't get trodden on in the madness," Yvan said, moving her out of the way of a man carrying a large roll of carpet.

"Madness is the name for it," Anya replied.

"How did your lessons go today?" he asked.

"Better than I expected. I can talk to Katya in her mind."

Yvan frowned. "That sounds complicated."

"It is. Apparently, I have problems with focusing and finding that inner peace," Anya said with a laugh.

"No surprise there. How did you manage the magic?"

"I focused on a memory that makes me happy. I used the night when you hatched, and the firebird flying for the first time."

"And this is a memory that helps you find inner peace?" he asked, a faint pink tinge rising up his neck. "I thought you would see it as the moment your peace ended."

Anya shook her head. "If not for you, I probably would have been dead by alcohol poisoning or a drunken farming accident. You hatching in my house was a good thing despite what came after."

Yvan opened his mouth to reply when Trajan, Cerise, and Izrayl appeared, and he closed it again. Anya's stomach flipped as Trajan spotted her and smiled.

The caravans started to move off, one at a time. Within thirty minutes, they had all disappeared except Baba Zosia's. It stopped just on the outskirts, and after checking no one was left behind, she moved to a nearby tree.

"Watch this, Anya," Katya said as Baba Zosia pulled a small knife from her belt. Squinting in the darkness, Anya could just make out a strange curving symbol scratched into the bark. Baba Zosia scored a line through it, disfiguring the symbol.

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