Page 18 of A Phoenix Reborn at Christmas

“Where is my carriage, Ines?” Percival asked.

She spoke, head still bowed. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, my lord. But there was an incident in the lanes, causing blockages. The carriage could not get through.” She wrung her hands as if nervous.

“That’s annoying,” he mumbled. “So where is my carriage?”

“It’s down this way, my lord. Please follow me.” She walked quickly down a lane.

Percival followed, gaze flicking around.

He couldn’t wait to soak in his bath when he got home. He’d asked Cook to work on making a mushroom and leek pie, like they’d made in the bakery that first day he’d been there.

He was hopeful but not particularly optimistic. He’d had her savoury pies before, and they just weren’t the same as those that Leopold made.

It would probably help if he asked Leopold more questions about technique and ingredients. But he couldn’t stand the idea of asking the arrogant little shit for anything. Percival already had to deal with him to order the pies. That was more than enough.

A chill swept through the alley, scattering snow. But with his phoenix blood, it didn’t faze him. And no snow touched his heated skin. It melted before it reached him.

The dilapidated apartment buildings crowded around. He glanced in the windows he passed. He could see dim light and movement through ratty, threadbare curtains. He sniffed.

They passed a faun, a sprite, and a pair of goblins as they walked.

He wrinkled his nose as the smell of urine hit him. “How much further ahead, Ines?”

“Just a couple of minutes, my lord,” she said. “I’m… I’m so sorry for the in-inconvenience,” she stuttered.

Why was she so nervous? Perhaps because he’d told her off for forgetting his lunch the other day. Then he’d informed herthat if she continued to make errors in her work, he’d let her go. But these blockages in the lane weren’t her fault.

He kept looking around, eyes alert. He was a wealthy phoenix walking through the poorer streets of Anorra. That made him a definite target for riff-raff and pickpockets. Of course, if he shifted, they would quickly discover their error.

They walked down a narrow side alley. He could see no windows along the sides of these buildings. Broken crates and barrels crowded, so only a narrow path could be walked.

He frowned. “Is this really the way?” No one else seemed to be about. In fact, he could see no other footsteps in the snow other than Ines’s.

A rush of cold hit him. Percival sucked in a breath as every muscle in his body tensed.

That is no natural wind.

He looked to his servant. Ines sprinted ahead of him, not glancing back.

“Ines?” he yelled.

She just kept running.

He tried to follow. But he couldn’t lift his feet. They were stuck to the ground. He shivered as goosebumps broke out on his skin. Cold cut through him, reaching through his skin and down into the arteries. His phoenix blood did not keep him warm against this assault.

He looked down.

“No.” He shook his head. “No. It can’t be. Not again.”

Three concentric circles containing numerous runes and symbols on the pavement glowed beneath him.

His breath shook. The last time he’d seen such a sigil had been when he, his parents, and his siblings had been murdered. Only he had been reborn.

“No.” The word tore from his throat. He tried to move his feet. He yanked at them. He shouted. But his feet wouldn’t budge.

He tried to search within himself for the heat at his core. He tried to shift. But the sigil locked him in this form.

Then he heard it. A whisper. The shuffle of feet through the snow. Percival lifted his head.