Page 77 of Cry of the Firebird

"How long have you been in this place?" Anya asked, trying not to stare at her.

"Too long to remember properly now. I woke in the forest and found my way to this cottage. I repaired it and settled in to wait. The forest"

"Is frighteningly silent," Anya interrupted.

"I was going to say dangerous. You can't leave the cottage after nightfall. I tried once and got this." Yanka put the jar on the table and lifted the hem of her dress. Wrapped around her left leg was a long, curving scar.

"Der'mo," Anya swore. "I'm sure I'll wake up by nightfall."

Yanka lowered her skirt and placed two squat pottery mugs next to the jar. She sat on one of the three-legged stools and asked Anya to sit on the other one. A small knife appeared in her hand, and she deftly began to cut the wax seal.

"So you are of Ilya's brood? I forget what name he gave himself," she asked.

"Venäläinen."

Yanka's face screwed up. "A Finnish name to insult me further."

"Ilya was my grandfather's grandfather," Anya answered politely.

Ilya's brood, not her family. Trajan said that she and Ilya hadn't been close, but Anya could hear the disapproval in Yanka's tone. Yanka poured the thick liquid from the jar into the mugs.

"You have some magical ability, yes?" Yanka asked before sipping her drink. Anya did the same and was pleasantly surprised to discover it was blackberry vodka.

"Yeah, although I only found out about it recently, and I'm still learning," Anya replied.

Yanka's eyes flashed with annoyance. "You should've begun your teaching when you were three."

"Eikki, my grandfather, thought it would be best not to teach me. Something about wanting me to have a safe, normal life."

And because I was too much like you, she didn't add. Anya had known Yanka for a whole five minutes and was already intimidated enough to keep her mouth shut.

Yanka muttered a curse. "Fool! Magic isn't something you can leave undeveloped, or it will control you and burn you up."

"Is that what happened to you? Baba Yaga told me that the magic had destroyed you."

"Baba Yaga's a lying old cunt, but even I'm not sure what happened to me. As to what I remember…give me your hand."

"Why?"

"I'm going to show you something that your grandfather should have. The future," Yanka said, reaching across the table.

Anya drained her mug and took Yanka's hand. The electrical zap of magic pulsed sharply between their palms when they touched, but Yanka didn't let go. She began whispering under her breath, and images flooded Anya's mind so fast she couldn't discern what they were.

Then there was only flames and blood and screaming.

"Anya!"Yvan charged into Anya's room as flames engulfed it. He could make out her body on the bed, writhing on the sheets,fire pouring from her skin. Yvan's body lit up with the firebird's flames and power, and he walked through the fire to reach her.

"Anya, wake up," he said urgently.

These are not ordinary flames. This is magic fire, the firebird said.

"It doesn't matter what type of fire it is!" Yvan shouted, shaking her. "Anyanka! Wake up!"

"Yvan?" Anya opened a bleary eye. The flames still burned, and she started in fear, twisting about in her sheets.

"It's okay, Anya. Turn the flames off.," Yvan said, clutching her face in his hands. "It's not real. This is only your magic." Anya nodded and shut her eyes in concentration. Within seconds the flames slowly vanished, sinking back inside of her. The firebird withdrew back within Yvan at the same time until the room was back to normal. Anya collapsed in his arms, shaking and crying.

"You're safe, Anya. Don't cry," Yvan tried to soothe, rubbing her back. "You're okay."

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