In Which There Is a Very Good Reason Why Someone’s Head Is on Fire
Alex Smith, a.k.a. Alexei Tasarevich, a.k.a. the seventy-fifth king of Avalon, was still nowhere to be found. It was becoming clear to Tala that he was not within the hallowed halls of Elsmore High nor at its basketball court, where a majority of the students had gathered to cheer for ten guys fighting over one ball. (She could admit that had this been any other occasion she, too, would be sitting on the bleachers and cheering, but with a kingdom at stake, she could afford to be hypocritical.)
West was enjoying himself. “That was the best basketball game I’ve ever watched,” he enthused, “and I’ve seen two of them!”
“That’s nice, West. Loki, are you positive?”
Loki shook their head. “Sorry, Zo. He’s not here.”
The firebird had not made an appearance since that morning, which was one more thing to worry about.
Zoe had gotten off the phone with Alex’s lawyer, Mr. Peets; they were to hold their positions and remain within Elsmore while his own team conducted further searches throughout Invierno. That did nothing to curb Tala’s annoyance, because Alex was a jerk. Why was he so adamant about keeping himself hidden?
The bonfire celebration was their last resort. Zoe had instructed Loki and West to infiltrate the Sydney Doering party over Tala’s protests. “Those two have handled worse things than a group of socialites,” Zoe had assured her.
“That group of socialites has the same kind of mob mentality biologists might observe in a pack of hyenas,” Tala pointed out, “and those two are going to be hopelessly outnumbered in there.”
But Loki only shrugged, their confidence the only loud thing about them. “We’ll be all right.”
Zoe and Tala, on the other hand, had joined the celebration at the desert bonfire, which suited Tala just fine. Her parents were bound to be nearby, and she was relieved, in hindsight, that they’d be close at hand.
Zoe had changed out of her school clothes and was dressed in a very cool black leather outfit that was a cross between a bodysuit and a cloak and would have also looked excellent as part of Tala’s wardrobe, and also had pockets. “Is that some kind of mandatory Banders uniform?” Tala asked. “Where do I place my order?”
Zoe laughed. “We can look into one for you once we reach England. Right now, we’ll need to split up. I’ll take this side, and you comb the other.”
That was all well and good, but now Tala couldn’t find Zoe either. She craned her neck every few seconds, scanning the crowd for glimpses of her father’s tall form or for Zoe’s bodysuit, without success. It was early evening now, and the firewood had been piled as high as an inquisitioner’s enthusiasm, nearly as high as Tala’s frustration. Leave it to her parents to actually keep their word to stay out of sight and inconvenience her like this.
The mood was hovering on ecstatic, passed on from reveler to reveler like a plague. The Elsmore Tigers had seized the day, winning 102–98 over the Wolves, and everyone was determined to party hard, get drunk, and pass out, likely not in that order.
Zoe had handed over her cell phone number before she’d disappeared, with stern instructions to call should any fresh trouble arise. On her own and friendless, Tala had resorted to climbing up one of the larger rocks overlooking the area, giving her a great view of the desert and also of the bonfire.
The crowds were substantial this year, in no small part because of the win. Magic seared through the cool air, petering as it breezed past her, only to gain steam again once safely out of her range. Spells glittered over hovering cell phones as people posed for group shots, trying to snap a few pictures quickly before the Invierno curse overwhelmed the charm and sent their phones tumbling to the ground.
No sign of her parents. No sign of Zoe. No sign of Alex. Tala tried calling them all, only to have an automated voice inform her that their cell phones were out of the current coverage area, and could she perhaps try again later? Every person she’d asked to borrow phones from had the same problem. It was a common enough issue when out here, but it was still maddening all the same.
No sign of Ryker either. But she shouldn’t be thinking about that.
Someone was distributing cups of wine coolers. She accepted one mechanically and made a face—the stink of the anti-hangover spells mixed in was stronger to her than the smell of alcohol—and set the untouched drink on the ground beside her.
“Hey, Tala?”
She looked down from her rock perch. Lynn Hughes was staring up at her, smiling nervously. “I was wondering…” She shifted from foot to foot, nervous. “I was wondering if, you know, you’d seen Alex anywhere?”
“Sorry. I really don’t know where he is.”
“He wasn’t in school. He’s not sick, is he?”
“He’s not. He was really looking forward to today’s bonfire, though. I’m pretty sure he’s wandering around here somewhere.”
The girl perked up. “Maybe you’re right. Thanks!”
“Poor girl,” Tala muttered, watching her leave.
“This seat taken?”
She froze again, not sure her heart could take any more shocks. Truthfully, Ryker Cadfael was the last thing on her mind given everything going on, but now that he’d reentered her thoughts, she was starting to forget everything else. He was already climbing up the boulder to her with the relative ease and sleekness of a mountain jaguar (or puma or panther, whatever, she was terrible at compliments), as precise with his movements here as he’d been shooting hoops. A few boys clapped him on the shoulder as he made the ascent, shouting their congratulations, but Ryker only had eyes for her. A thrill shot up her spine, not an unpleasant sensation.
“Want me to get you a drink?”
“A drink?” she echoed, then shook her head quickly. “Oh. No. No, thank you. I’m not thirsty.”
“Okay, then.” He slid beside her, grinned. “You looked distracted for a sec there.”
“Oh. I was wondering where my parents were.”
Ryker looked startled. “Your parents are here?”
Silently, Tala cursed herself. Way to look cool. “Yeah. Just for a few minutes. They like bonfires. My mom’s even been to Burning Man.”
“I think that’s great. Some parents aren’t around enough for their kids.” For a brief moment, Ryker looked sad, and Tala felt bad for even introducing the subject. Most likely his property-developer dad was too busy for him. “So. Didn’t see you at the stands during the game.”
Tala tried hard not to sound guilty. “Sorry. I was looking for Alex.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized again that she shouldn’t have mentioned that—not because it was supposed to be a secret, but because he might get the wrong idea. She was right; Ryker looked a little hurt, a little unsure of himself, which was a strange thing to see on someone who’d probably never made an unpopular decision in his life.
“You and Smith… Are you guys friends, or…y’know, if you have a history… I’m not angry, of course, but I would just rather know if you two had any—”
“No!” That came out too strong, too panicked. She forced herself to repeat it again, in a stronger, calmer voice than what she actually felt. “No. Alex is kind of my best friend. There’s nothing else, really. That’s the truth.”
He relaxed. The smile was back. “Sorry. I know you guys are close, and he says the same thing…but sometimes I can’t help but feel jealous.”
Ryker? Actually jealous? Because of her?
“That’s ridiculous,” she finally said, surprise making her careless with her words. “You’re…you could have anyone.”
Anyone else attempting false modesty would have denied that, but Ryker only nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Because I’m on the basketball team, right? But it’s not like I’ve done this before. I’m not someone who wants a girlfriend for the sake of having one.”
“You…don’t?” She usually had so many things to say about anything. So many words she knew how to use. A googolplex of subject-verb-predicate combinations, even. But right here, on what should really be the most romantic highlight of her life, she was forgetting how to string English together.
“You know that game we had earlier this year? The practice one with the Rosefield Wildcats?”
Of course she did. Alex had wheedled her into waiting in the gym while he retrieved some baseball equipment from storage. She’d started watching the game while he was gone—at first out of boredom, until she realized she was paying far too much attention to the blue-eyed, dark-haired guy wearing number twelve than she had wanted to. That was three months ago. Number Twelve had looked up and given her a wide grin, and instead of smiling back like any sane girl would have done, she had tried to blend into the stands like an embarrassed chameleon, and was relieved when Alex returned shortly after.
“I was the new kid, then. Just gotten onto varsity basketball and nervous about proving myself to the team. That was my first game.” He stared off into the distance, smiling. “Landowski passed me the ball, and I had a clear shot. I turned to make it, and I saw you, getting up to leave and looking bored out of your mind.”
Tala blushed.
“That was a compliment, by the way. The cheerleaders were there, and so were lots of people, rooting for us—but you stood out. I think it was because it struck me then how lonely you looked despite being surrounded by a crowd. I missed the shot.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It sailed right past the hoop, ricocheted off the board, and hit Coach Myers right in his bald spot.”
Tala covered her mouth to hide her sudden giggle.
“They never let me forget that, you know. They still joke about it. But all I remember in that moment was watching you leave with Smith. And that I hated that you looked lonely. And I wondered how to change that, what would bring a smile to your face.” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. “I didn’t even know your name, then.”
He hadn’t known her name, but she had caught his attention and she hadn’t even noticed. “I’m sorry.”
He laughed. “Don’t apologize. Based on what Alex was willing to tell me in those weeks after, wooing you was going to require a different approach. You definitely weren’t going to be impressed by my basketball stats, for starters. He said you had all the romantic inclinations of a scared rabbit.”
If Alex really was still in Invierno, Tala was going to have to find the time to strangle him first before they sent him away.
“I didn’t do a good job, did I?” Ryker sounded rueful. “In the end, it was Alex who made the assist for me, and I still have to thank him. He left me a pretty good opening in the cafeteria to swoop in and just ask, after the month I wasted racking my brain and worrying you’d turn me down. Figured getting rejected was better than spending more weeks agonizing whether you would.”
“You didn’t really have to do so much,” Tala mumbled into her shoes. “I would have said yes.”
“Is this permission for me to start over, so I can ask you out the right way this time?”
Tala nodded, nearly petrified with anticipation.
“Tala.” Strong hands cupped her jaw, the touch light enough that she barely sensed it, and she was greedy enough to lean in so she could feel more. “Go out with me again? Please?”
“I would very much like that,” she breathed.
He was so, so close. His eyes were a ridiculous cobalt blue, a faint flush slashing across his cheeks. If Tala had been of a braver sort, she would bridged the distance between them and…
She made a brief, inconsequential movement, one that caused her to inadvertently lean forward. She watched his eyes widen, only to narrow again as they settled on her mouth.
“Tala.”
Now, this. This was her first kiss. It was inconceivable to imagine that Alex’s platonic peck the year before would ever be close to mattering, because this was a kiss. This was Ryker kissing her, the faintest touch of his lips against hers, light and fleeting at first, then growing more and more emboldened with every brush, surer and stronger as he applied the right amount of dizzying pressure, sweetly insistent until Tala’s mouth parted.
It was like lightning, a pleasant shock that sizzled in between them like a burst of truth. And still he wouldn’t stop, mouth stealing on hers over and over and over. By the time he finally raised his head, he was breathing harshly, while Tala was the complete opposite, her breath stolen away.
“Tala,” Ryker murmured. “I—”
A soft purr rose from behind them. The firebird stood there and grinned, a long tongue actually lolling out from its beak. If she hadn’t known any better, she could have sworn the damn bird was trolling her.
The mood was broken. “Get out of here,” Tala hissed without thinking. She expected that kind of behavior from Alex, but that his firebird would take after him in character was just too much.
She stopped. Ryker, too, was staring at the firebird, and his face was pale.
“You,” he whispered.
“You can see it?” Oh no. Was it her curse? Was his proximity to her enough to negate the spell and let him see? But then…
The firebird took to the air again without warning, and that was when Tala saw Alex.
He was surrounded by a group of boys and a few cheerleaders, away from the bulk of the crowd watching the fire. From her perch, she saw that Chris Hughes and his regular buddies were there and in fact appeared to be causing problems. Cassie Torelli, Hughes’s girlfriend, and a few other girls were watching avidly, staying clear of the confrontation while doing nothing to defuse the situation.
It was clear from their angry faces and Alex’s defensive stance that there was trouble.
“Tala!” Ryker exclaimed, but Tala had already vaulted off the rock, landing with a perfectly executed barrel roll before she was on her feet and running.
“What’s the matter, homo?” she heard Hughes ask as she drew nearer. “Can’t look me in the eye anymore?”
An infinite loop of choice Scottish curses that she’d learned from her father spun like turntables in Tala’s head. They knew.
“Where did you hide it?” Alex sounded remarkably calm despite being surrounded.
“So, you’re not denying it?” Hughes sneered. “Goddamn. We go out of our way to treat you like one of us, and in the end you’ve been some gay freak all along.”
Somebody was growling, and it wasn’t the firebird. Tala realized it was her.
Hughes glanced over, smirked. “And here comes your little friend just in time to defend you. If we had our way, we’d be running you gays and Mexicans out of town by now.”
Alex didn’t even look at her. “Where did you hide it?” he repeated.
“Chris!” And then Lynn was there, flinging herself onto Alex’s arm. “What are you doing?” she yelled at her brother. “Quit it! You’re making a scene!”
Hughes’s gaze flicked to the crowd of students now milling about. When none of them moved to stop him, he only grinned more broadly. “I’m doing you a favor, little sis. You always did have bad taste in guys. Your crush has been a raging homo all this time, and you should be glad I found out. Yeah, Smith, I’ll give you the video, but not before I upload it so the world can see you and your perverted boyfriend going at it. Go ahead and report me. See if anyone cares.”
Tala took another step forward, but so did Dryden and Landaker, Chris’s two friends. “You really want to do this, Warnock?” the former taunted. “I’m not afraid of punching girls.”
“Maybe Landaker should tell you how I kicked his ass the last time he tried.”
“Bitch,” Landaker snarled.
Hughes drew back his arm.
“Alex!” Lynn cried.
Ryker’s hands closed around Hughes’s wrist, holding him back. “Hughes, chill. You’re going to get everyone in trouble.”
“Stay out of this, Cadfael,” Hughes spat.
He moved to break free, and Ryker deftly twisted his wrist. Cassie shrieked, her face turning pale as her boyfriend sagged with a roar of pain. Landaker rushed to his friend’s aid, his own arms already raised to shove at Ryker, but Tala launched forward with a spinning kick and landed a boot right to his face.
“Fight!” someone yelled, and shouts and hoots erupted as more people headed closer, attracted to the noise.
Someone lunged forward, grabbing at her. Tala ducked low, escaping their grasp.
“Bitch,” Landaker snarled again.
“Don’t call her that!” Alex snapped.
“We’ll call that whore any goddamn name we want.” Hughes moved to punch Alex. Lynn planted herself in between them at the last minute, but her brother’s fist was already on a collision course. Alex yanked her close to him, raising his arm as a shield.
There was a delighted cackle and a sudden blur of feathers.
The firebird reappeared, popping out from nowhere to fly right into Hughes’s face, knocking him backward. It then dove down to grab both Landaker and Dryden by their shoulders, each talon sinking into the cloth of their jerseys. It rose, lifting the boys high enough in the air that the tips of their running shoes barely scraped against the ground. They clawed wildly at their shoulders, at something they could not see.
The bird dove forward, with a speed and strength that was surprising for something so small. The boys struggled and yelled out obscenities as the unseen force propelled them forward despite their best efforts.
And just as suddenly, the strange bird stopped, releasing them at the same moment. Unable to stop their momentum, Landaker and Dryden plunged headfirst into a nearby rock, hitting it face-first with a heavy thump. They both remained glued to the surface for a few more seconds, as if to defy the laws of physics on top of everything else, before toppling backward when gravity once again reasserted control.
The feathered creature crowed.
Bill Moretti took off after his friends, but hit something solid halfway. He crumpled, and the bird lifted its beak from where it had made contact with his head. Then it swooped down and flexed its left wing, tripping him so hard, he somersaulted from the impact, landing on his face.
People in the crowd were already shrieking, watching as one by one, the boys succumbed to some invisible force none of them could see. Hughes staggered back up, gaping open-mouthed at his fallen comrades. “What the hell did you do?” he roared at Alex, raising his fist again.
The bird glowed, and a lazy waft of smoke drifted from it to settle on Hughes’s hair, which promptly caught fire.
Tala barely remembered him, hopping about, screaming for water before dropping to the ground to perform several barrel rolls. She barely remembered people running and shouting while Hughes’s girlfriend frantically tried to smother her boyfriend’s head in a sea of sweaters. The only thing she could recall in stark, vivid detail was the strange bird performing loops in the air, crowing in victory—exultant, glowing brighter than any light he had ever seen—and Alex, smiling grimly.
The fire was soon doused. Alex pushed at Hughes’s sprawled form with a foot, turning him over, and bent down. Lynn sank down on the ground beside him, trembling.
“Where did you hide my phone, Hughes?”
Hughes stared up at him, face sooty and frightened. “Boys’ locker room,” he gasped out.
Alex straightened up and turned to walk away without another word.
“Alex!” Tala yelled at him. “What the hell?”
He paused for a couple of seconds but resumed walking. “Don’t come after me, Tala.”
“I deserve to know what’s going—”
At that point, more screaming began.
The burning bonfire had been the first target. The mist had passed so stealthily and soundlessly over it, consuming the very air so quickly that there was almost no time to process the aftermath. One moment the bonfire stood, brightly blazing the way bonfires ought to. In the next, it was a sculpture of ice, a fully formed fortress of icicles, and the breeze that swept through it to spread across the crowd was cold with the touch of winter.
Astonished, Tala only had time to gape before the ground underneath her iced over, a permafrost sheen spreading out from the newly frozen bonfire and rippling toward the celebrants. Stumbling over each other, alternating between curses and shrieks, the partygoers fled as the rising fog turned the air bitter and cold. The night stilled; something, however briefly, seemed to take shape against the moonlight—some strange figure of a shrouded woman, almost—before the image dissolved completely, and panic took its place.
“Tala!” Ryker sounded frantic, but Tala ignored him, leaping to her feet to scan the now-disorderly crowd, trying in vain to search for Alex, or her parents, or Zoe, anyone who surely knew what was happening and could tell her what she was supposed to do. But Alex was already gone, swallowed up by the crowd.
A cry from above made her look up.
Alex had disappeared, but the firebird was still going strong, flying across the sky like an avalanche on wings, screeching its graceful head off. Something was materializing in the air behind it, weaving in and out of visibility, in hot pursuit. Tala took off after both, shaking her arnis sticks out from her knapsack as she did.
The bird let out a cry of pain and landed. It swiveled to meet its pursuers, and Tala was stunned to see that they were bees made of crystallized ice, so clear that she could see through them. In lieu of bulging insect eyes, their faces were as smooth as a glass surface, and their stingers glistened with colorless ichor. They made shrill high-pitched whines instead of buzzes, and they surrounded the firebird quickly, moving in for the kill.
Tala didn’t even hesitate. Her stick flew down and swung at the nearest bee like she was swinging a baseball bat, hitting it with a satisfying thunk. The strange creature shattered on impact, small glitters of ice floating to the ground.
Tala swung again, meeting her marks each time. The firebird had also leaped into action, sending flames straight into the heart of the humming hive. What few of the bees escaped, Tala made short work of with her arnis, until there was nothing else to strike at.
Bereft of enemies, the firebird wriggled its tail feathers and puffed out its chest.
“What the hell was that about?” Tala growled at it. “And where’s Alex?”
The ground underneath them shifted once again from solid to slippery, and Tala promptly lost her balance.
She slid a few feet before struggling to her knees, her hands braced against the icy ground as she clamored for balance. With a loud battle cry, the firebird headed straight into her, slamming into her sides hard enough for her to see stars. She skidded right, just in time for a wave of ice to sail past, missing her completely.
“What…?”
A figure was striding toward them. It wasn’t human. Just like the bees, it was made completely of ice; a statue that had come to life under a skilled sculptor, but not adequate enough for the work to convey any warmth and passion.
It was constructed with a girl’s figure in mind, but the similarities ended there. It had a face—a lovely one in theory. But the beautifully contoured cheekbones sloped down into a cruel mouth twisted into a genteel sneer; the soft tapered hands were clenched like claws, and nothing in its large eyes suggested any impression of humanity.
It raised its hand, and the ground before it surged forward like a sea of waves.
Tala dodged to the left, and the next wave of ice slammed into the spot she’d been standing on, leaving a small mountain of snow in its wake. Without pause, the walking statue flicked its wrist in her direction again.
Desperate, Tala swung her sticks again as the fresh wall of ice rushed to meet her. Something went crack.
Against the wood the ice broke apart, splitting the frozen wave down the middle into two sections that spun away on either side of her. Both segments continued for several more feet before shuddering to a complete standstill. She was left without a scratch. The figure was gone.
“Tala!” Ryker was running toward her, and Tala wanted to yell at him to keep back, but she was trembling too much. He reached her without incident, and she clung to his chest. He was warm, like the cold didn’t affect him at all.
“What’s going on?” he rasped, staring up at the curtain of ice that had come dangerously close to killing her.
The firebird squawked several more times and took off again in the direction of Elsmore High.
“I have to go.” She didn’t want to leave, but Ryker shouldn’t be involved in any of this. She stepped back from his embrace. “I’ll explain everything later, but I have to go. You have to call 911 once the phones start working; make sure the others are all right.”
“Tala!”
But she’d already taken off.