Wildfire Phoenix by Zoe Chant
Chapter 32
Corruption.
The Thunderbird had been circling, wings motionless, searching for any trace of that foul sickness. Uncegila’s children were elusive and subtle, but a storm had infinite patience. Its ancient enemies could not change their nature, any more than the Thunderbird itself could. Sooner or later, the horned serpents must feed.
Now they had.
It was not a single, brief flare of sickness. Not a furtive, snatched mouthful, hastily swallowed in the hopes that the outrage might go unnoticed. This was a brazen feast, an orgy of wanton consumption, gleeful and greedy.
It was a call.
A challenge.
A summons.
The Thunderbird turned, focusing on the source of that shockwave of unholy energy. All places were alike to it, here in the mortal realm… and yet some small part of its vast soul jerked in recognition. Something tugged at the Thunderbird, like an errant breeze ruffling its feathers.
No. A tiny, desperate voice, shouting into storm winds. No! Not there!
The Thunderbird paid no attention. Wind did not choose where to blow, nor lightning where to strike. The corruption had to be cleansed.
The fire must burn.
No matter where… or who.
Lightning gathering in its claws, the Thunderbird streaked toward Thunder Mountain.
* * *
“Can you reach him?” Edith yelled in Blaise’s ear.
Clinging onto Rory’s golden feathers, Blaise glanced up at the swirling clouds. They were a black vortex now, centered on Thunder Mountain. The back of her neck prickled with static electricity.
*Zephyr.* She tried to reach out to him, searching for any hint of his bright, gentle soul in that chaotic darkness. *Zeph, hang on. We’re on our way. Don’t let the Thunderbird strike, not yet. You have to hold it back!*
Nothing answered her desperate call; not even thunder. The mate bond was a broken kite string, flapping in the rising storm. She couldn’t sense him at all.
She shook her head. “I don’t think he can hear me. And even if he could, I doubt he could stop the Thunderbird. It’s totally focused on destroying the horned serpents. It won’t care that they’re possessing innocent people. Hurry, Rory!”
The griffin beat his wings harder, fighting through the gale. At his wingtips, Griff, Chase, and Callum also increased their pace, matching Rory’s speed. Ahead, Seren swam through the air with powerful sweeps of her tail, her slate-gray hide nearly invisible in the shadowy stormlight. Blaise could see Joe clinging to his mate’s dorsal fin for dear life, flat against her back, head down.
Higher up, Dai was a bright crimson splash against the black clouds. A smaller, emerald shape darted ahead of him, bat-winged and sleek—Ivy, her wyvern form better suited to the treacherous conditions than the massive red dragon. Even she was having trouble making headway into the teeth of the storm.
*Wystan?*Blaise risked leaning over, scanning the trees below. *You guys keeping up?*
*Just about.* Wystan’s mental voice sounded out of breath. She caught a glimpse of bright silver through the leaves, though it was impossible to tell whether it was him or his father. *Fenrir, is Estelle all right?*
*Still sleeping,*Fenrir reported. Blaise had a mental impression of him circling, ears pricked, nose alert for any hint of approaching danger. *Do not fear, Icehorse. The Bitch and I guard the cubs at your den.*
*I called Conleth and Shan for back up,* Darcy put in. *They’re on their way to the ranch at top speed. Between us, we’ll keep Estelle and Beth safe. Are you guys in sight of the base yet? Any idea what’s going on?*
Blaise squinted, shielding her eyes against wind-blown grit. She could just make out the scattered buildings of the base now. Apart from Tanner’s truck, all the crew vehicles were still parked outside. She couldn’t see any sign of movement.
*Callum?*she sent. *Where is everyone?*
*Not far now.*Callum folded his flame-red wings, arrowing past Rory to take the lead. *Training meadow. Follow me.*
Rory followed the pegasus, the other fliers close behind. Blaise’s stomach lurched as he dropped low and fast, curving around the base to head up the mountain.
The griffin burst out into the training meadow, flaring his wings to brake. As he touched down, Blaise caught sight of a circle of figures in the center of the clearing. They seemed oblivious to the roiling black clouds overhead, despite the wind tugging at their hair and flapping their crew T-shirts.
Sliding off Rory’s back, Blaise did a quick head-count. Apart from Tanner and Rohelio, all the firefighters who’d been on base were there. They didn’t pay any attention to A-squad’s arrival, huddled together as though deep in conversation. It looked almost ordinary; just a regular afternoon of training, the squads gathering to prepare for the day’s exercise.
Except for the knife.
Even as Blaise watched, Jessica, the boss of C-squad, drew the long hunting blade down her palm. Her face was completely tranquil as blood ran down the blade—first red, and then a deep, viscous black. She clenched her fist, scattering the dark droplets. Where they hit the ground, the grass shriveled and died, leaving nothing but bare, blackened earth.
*Well, that’s not creepy at all,* Joe said telepathically, as Jessica passed the knife to the next firefighter in the circle. *What do you think happens when they’ve all finished cutting themselves?*
Rory shifted to human. “Let’s not find out.”
Callum landed as well, Diana and Buck jumping clear as he transformed. A second later, Wystan and Hugh joined them too, galloping out of the forest. Dai swooped down, hovering so that Rose, John, and Neridia could slide off his back. Virginia stayed perched on her mate’s neck, braced against the red dragon’s spines.
“We’ll hold off the Thunderbird,” Virginia said, mouth set in a determined line. “For as long as we can.”
“Don’t hurt him!” Blaise shouted up at Dai. “And be careful. He’s not in control of his animal.”
The red dragon dipped his horned head, blowing smoke from his nostrils in acknowledgement. He spiraled back into the sky, where Ivy was already powering into the black clouds. Griff and Seren followed as well, their mates clinging to their backs. All four vanished into the swirling storm.
Candice surveyed the scene from atop Wystan’s back and swore expressively. “I don’t think true love is going to save the day this time, guys. We haven’t exactly got time to track down their true mates, if they even exist. How the hell are we going to get the demons out of them?”
The Phoenix swooped down in a blaze of incandescent fire, making them all flinch and shield their eyes. Ash straightened, flaming wings disappearing into his back, a circle of scorched grass at his feet.
“I believe I may be of assistance,” he said, his voice as calm as ever. “I can burn the horned serpents from their souls. Though it will require physical contact, and some time.”
Edith cast a nervous glance upward as thunder growled like an angry beast over their heads. “I don’t think we have a lot of that.”
“Then let’s make this fast,” Rory said grimly. “Wystan, Callum, with me. Edith, Candice, be ready to shove the demons back if they try to jump into us. Sir John?”
The sea dragon knight made a slight bow. “My first duty must be to protect my Empress, but I shall assist as I can.”
“I’ll help Ash,” Neridia put in. “As soon as he’s freed people, I can get them over to Hugh. They’ll need healing.”
Rory nodded in thanks. “Rose—”
“I was breaking up bar brawls before you were even born, thank you very much.” Rose cracked her knuckles. “I think I can cope with a handful of snakes.”
Ash, Callum, and John were already running for the possessed group. Blaise started to follow, only to run straight into Rory’s outstretched arm.
“You’d better stay back,” he told her. “You too, Buck.”
“Who died and made you Superintendent?” Buck fixed Rory with a vicious glare. “‘Cause it sure as hell wasn’t me. That’s my motherloving crew bleeding like stuck pigs out there.”
“And it’ll be you, if one of the demons decides to go for an upgrade.” Rory barred Buck’s way. “You’re vulnerable to possession, Buck. You don’t have a mate.”
“Well I do,” Blaise snarled. “He’s up there right now, and I’m going to help him!”
“Zephyr wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger.” Rory’s expression was sympathetic, but unyielding. “Your situation is ambiguous, Blaise. We can’t take any risks.”
“But—” Blaise and Buck started together.
“Stay. Back,” Rory said, in the commanding growl of the alpha voice. In a much more apologetic tone, he added, “Sorry. But I know you wouldn’t listen otherwise.”
He sprinted after the others. Muscles frozen, Blaise could only watch as they headed for the possessed crew.
“Motherloving shifter,” Buck said through clenched teeth. “I am going to skin that feathered freak.”
“Not if I get to him first,” Blaise muttered. “There won’t be enough left.”
But Rory was right, much as she hated to admit it. She was the weakest link in the squad. The tattered shreds of her mate bond were uncertain protection at best. Even her animal was useless.
All she could do was watch, and pray.
“Hang on, Zeph,” she whispered, as lightning flashed overhead. “Hang on.”
* * *
Corruption.
The Thunderbird could sense the foulness, steaming up like reeking mist. But every time it spread its wings, gathering power to spear down and cleanse the land in sacred fire, something knocked it off-course.
Small souls darted around it, dashing in to batter at it like crows mobbing an eagle. They carried no taint, no reptilian stench, and yet they kept getting in the way. No matter how the Thunderbird twisted and turned, it couldn’t break free from the irritating harassment.
The Thunderbird would have turned its lightning on its attackers, yet something held it back. A vague, misty sense of recognition, half-remembered, like a dream on waking.
Friends,a small voice insisted. Friends, these are our friends. We cannot hurt them. Don’t strike!
Only that tiny, nagging presence kept the Thunderbird’s claws from spreading to swat its assailants like insects. It twisted and turned, trying to break free, its eyes always tracking the tiny figures far below. Lightning seethed along its feathers. The Thunderbird held it back, waiting, ready. It only needed a single moment; an instant, and a clear path.
Cleanse the land. Burn them all.
It felt no regret. No pity. Forests burned and rose again. Creatures lived, and died, and gave sustenance to others. That was the way of things; the way things were, the way things should be. As long as there was balance, the cycle would continue, life and death and life again.
The horned serpents broke that balance. They would feed and feed and feed until there was nothing but their unquenchable hunger. They had to be stopped.
Not like this! That voice again. It rose, louder now, shouting into the wind. We don’t have to take innocent lives. We aren’t alone. Look!
Shaking off the clutching claws of an assailant, the Thunderbird peered through trailing clouds. There were more tiny figures on the ground now, more bright sparks of souls. They surrounded the corrupted ones, pinning them down.
There was fire too, though the lightning had not started it. A flame that burned too bright to look at directly, even for the Thunderbird’s eyes. That fire walked amongst the captured hosts, laying a hand on each head in turn. The horned serpents fought and twisted, yet they could not escape that burning touch. One by one, they shriveled, corruption turning to ash.
Trust our friends, begged the presence in the silent heart of the storm. Trust her. They’re destroying the horned serpents.
Electricity prickled uneasily along the Thunderbird’s feathers. Its ancient enemies were indeed dying… and yet the reptilian reek of corruption was not diminishing.
If anything, it was strengthening.
Each horned serpent screamed as it turned to ash—not in rage, but exhilaration. With every dying shriek, that darkness deepened, spreading outward in an ever-widening circle.
Something was rising. Gathering speed, surging upward, drawn by those dying calls.
Lightning blazed across the Thunderbird’s pinions. It struck out at its harassers, not holding back now, striking them out of the sky. It didn’t pause to watch them fall. With a scream of fury and recognition, it spread its wings wide, gathering all the power of the storm.
No! screamed a voice, lost under thunder. Blaise! Blaise!
* * *
“Look out!” Callum shouted.
Blaise tackled Buck, knocking him aside just in time. With an earth-shaking crash, Dai plowed through the place where the Superintendent had just been standing, leaving a trail of furrowed earth. The red dragon’s tail hit a tree, smashing the trunk into splinters.
“Will you bloody bastards stop getting hurt!” Hugh yelled, his glowing hands clamped over Griff’s broken leg. “There’s only one of me, you know!”
Wystan’s shield flashed, flicking from Ivy to Seren as he desperately tried to protect everyone still in the air. “I think we’ve exhausted the Thunderbird’s patience.”
“Just a little longer,” Edith said, wrapping torn strips of T-shirt around an unconscious crew member’s sliced hand. “We’re almost there.”
Even as Edith spoke, a bright flash of fire made their shadows stand out harsh and black. In the clearing, one of Tanner’s B-squad firefighters dropped like a puppet with cut strings. John ran to drag the unconscious man to safety, as Ash turned calmly to the next possessed crew member.
“Only two left,” Griff said. He was white-faced with pain, his mate Hayley supporting him as Hugh worked to heal his injuries. “Dai, try to buy him some time. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
The red dragon let out a pained hiss, spreading its wings once more. With obvious effort, it launched itself back at the Thunderbird, Virginia clinging to its neck.
Diana’s anxious gaze followed Callum as he and Rory grabbed a hissing, red-eyed C-squad firefighter. “Can you buy us some time, Blaise? Nothing can make a shifter harm his mate, after all. If you went out there, surely the Thunderbird would have to break off.”
Rory’s alpha command had worn off, but Blaise shook her head. She’d never felt so useless.
“I’m Zephyr’s mate, not the Thunderbird’s.” She balled her fists, her animal’s agitated frustration an echo of her own. “It’s never held back just because I was standing in the way. I don’t think it even recognizes me.”
“Once the horned serpents are gone, the Thunderbird will stop attacking,” Candice said confidently. She rolled the latest freed victim into a recovery position, checking that his airways were clear. “That’s what’s always happened before. Stay strong, guys. This is going to work.”
It was working, and yet the icy knot in Blaise’s gut tightened. By all appearances, they were winning, but she couldn’t shake an irrational feeling of impending disaster.
*Does anyone else feel like this is too easy?*she broadcast to the rest of the squad.
From the responding wave of mass incredulity, they didn’t.
*You want to come up here and say that, bro?* Joe’s telepathic voice was terse. Blaise could sense his tight link to Seren, the pair sharing each other’s strength and senses. The shark flung herself into a tight twist, drawing on her mate’s power to stay ahead of the Thunderbird’s snapping beak.
Blaise couldn’t risk disrupting their focus. With a grimace, she dropped the connection, though her uneasy feeling remained.
It was too easy. Not the struggle with the Thunderbird—that was a bitch and a half, and going south fast—but the demons themselves had barely put up a fight. Blaise had expected at least some of them to make a break for the cover of the forest, but it was like they were all bound in place on short, invisible leashes.
Even now, Rory and Callum were dragging the last one over to Ash. The possessed man hissed and spat, but didn’t make even a token attempt at biting his captors.
Ash laid his palm against the firefighter’s forehead. With unnatural strength, the possessed man managed to wrench his bleeding hand free from Rory’s grip. He clutched at Ash’s wrist, holding on rather than pushing him away.
“For you,” the possessed man crooned, his blood running down Ash’s arm. “All for you, great mother.”
Sheer terror lanced through Blaise, sudden as lightning. And it wasn’t her fear that constricted her heart. It wasn’t her voice screaming, desperately trying to reach her over the howling wind.
Blaise! Blaise!
“No!” She sprinted for her dad, understanding at last what was coming. “No!”
Too late.
Fire flared. As the final firefighter dropped, freed, the ground bucked, throwing Blaise off her feet. She caught a glimpse of the others tumbling too, tossed aside like a child’s toys.
Only Ash remained standing as the ground convulsed. Smeared with demonic blood, alone at the epicenter of the earthquake, he turned. Just for an instant, his eyes met hers.
Darkness erupted around him. The Thunderbird screamed, the geometric patterns on its wings flaring with white power, but that vast, shadowy form was already pouring itself into Ash.
Lightning ripped down. Blaise covered her head, white light searing through her closed eyelids. Every bone in her body shook with the roar of thunder.
As the sound faded, she heard cold, feminine laughter.
Purple, forked afterimages streaked Blaise’s vision. Through the phantom ghosts of lightning, she saw her father still standing, arms outstretched, at the center of a circle of burning grass. He snapped his fingers, and the flames went out, instantly.
“At last,” he said, and it wasn’t her father’s voice. His eyes held the blood-red glow of dying suns. “A suitable host.”
