Page 15

TEN

K el stumbled out of the aviary’s entrance.

Smoke filled her lungs and her throat ached as she coughed.

Savita swooped low over Kel’s head, out the doors and into a nearby paddock.

Safe. Kel didn’t feel her hair singeing or the heat at her back or the glowing holes in her clothes.

She only felt the fear that must have coursed through Savita when her phoenix realized she was trapped in her own home.

Phoenixes were immortal. Old age would never harm them. But in every other way that mortal creatures could be killed, they were vulnerable. Though Savita was a creature of fire and magic, impervious to phoenix fires, a mundane fire would hurt her just as it’d hurt Kel.

Savita is fine , Kel told herself, hacking up more smoke and trying to slow her pulse. She’s safe.

But her home…

More coughs spluttered from Kel’s lungs. To the right of the gates was a panel with controls to the aviary. She might not be able to salvage everything—but maybe the sprinklers along the aviary’s roof could still help.

Limbs heavy, Kel punched in the code to access the controls. A small screen above the keypad should have lit up green—but nothing changed. Kel typed in the code again.

Nothing.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. The heat crept up to the closed gates. She wouldn’t have long before the fire consumed the entire aviary.

Kel tried the code a third time, and she let out a choked sob as her vision cleared.

The glass panel looked like a shattered mirror, pixels fracturing and scattering, a neon kaleidoscope that had needed updating a decade ago. Just like the aviary’s electrical wiring. Just like everything .

At the top of the screen, barely legible, was a glowing word: ERROR.

Another sob broke through her dry throat. She had nothing with her—nothing that could save the building. There were rows of enormous fire extinguishers beside her walk-in freezer, but that was across the far side of the aviary.

There was no way to call for help; she’d left her tele-comm inside the office. She couldn’t ride Savita to find help without leathers—she’d burn to a crisp.

A loud boom echoed through the aviary, followed by an orange flash. Kel pressed her hands against the glass to see better—before jerking away in pain. The panel wouldn’t shatter or melt, but it was already too hot to touch.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what—

When Kel finally saw the council’s red-and-gold lights soar through the stars, for a moment, she thought everything would be all right. Help was coming. Part of her yearned for someone’s—anyone’s—arms to bury herself in. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let herself unravel.

That luxury had died two years ago, with her father.

When the council officers arrived and told her that the aviary was beyond help, that too many electrical faults had tripped at the same time, she shoved the ghost of that spark back inside its tomb.

A stream of vehicles pulled up beside the aviary and attempted to soothe the fire. The inferno refused to die down, but it also didn’t retaliate, staying inside the aviary’s glass confines. All anyone could do was ensure the blaze ran a careful course.

Kel had retreated to a hill nearby, wrapping her arms around her bare knees and watching the destruction unfold.

Savita bristled and clicked her beak, sitting against Kel’s back, as warm as the fire below.

Her nearness was as much comfort as she could provide with the destruction wrought beneath them.

Kel let the shadows swallow her.

This was her fault.

She’d known how badly the aviary needed upgrades. But she didn’t have the money to pay for repairs. It had simply taken one malfunction for the fire to ignite the rest, a molten domino effect.

“Kelyn!”

The scream echoed up from the aviary. Kel saw a clunky, gray auto-engine skid across a patch of grass beside the other vehicles. The doors flung open and two tall, familiar heads emerged.

From somewhere above her body, Kel watched the two boys take in the scene with slack jaws. An officer pointed toward her hill. Bekn remained still, waving his arms toward the aviary and speaking in unclear shouts.

Savita rustled her wings and shrieked as Coup approached, though she quietened once his face became clear. In just a few long strides, Coup stood before Kel’s hunched figure.

It was the first time she’d ever seen him without his riding leathers, wearing instead tracksuit pants and a gray tee. From her perch, Coup’s silhouette eclipsed the stars, cutting across the sky like a dark blade.

“Are you…” He cleared his throat. “Are you hurt?”

Kel tried to shake her head, to tell him to leave. But she’d let the cold air sink beneath her skin. She’d refused the blanket a medic had offered her. Why should she accept comfort when Savita had none?

“We saw the fire and called the council emergency line. How—what happened?” Coup pressed.

The words bit at Kel, like little teeth gnawing on her frozen bones. “Go home, Coup. There’s nothing you can do.”

A minute passed before Coup crouched on the ground beside her.

“You should go home,” Kel repeated, her throat thick. “We can’t do anything but wait.”

More silence, as they sat and watched the flames slowly cocoon and turn to smoke. She wished he would just leave her alone, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.

She wasn’t sure how long had passed when Coup spoke again, his voice crackling with sleep.

“I met your dad, once. I’d seen him around Fieror before, but I’d never spoken to him.

He came to a public aviary in the city center to perform a quality check.

I was just mucking out the grounds. He spotted me, ignored the fawning council attendees, and asked me if I thought the phoenixes’ basic needs were being met. ”

Surprise flickered through Kel’s exhaustion, hot and cold.

Softly, she asked, “What did you say?”

Coup smiled. “I told him they treated the phoenixes like AB-infested rodents. They had no idea about different species’ needs or diets or social behaviors.”

“And you did?”

Coup shrugged. “The next day, Nova Press published his scathing review of the aviary. The day after that, the Cendorian Council issued them a warning. They had two months to up their standards, or the council would relocate the phoenixes to other aviaries and withdraw the aviary’s very generous funding. ”

Something glimmered in Kel’s memory, as faint as the stars overhead. “I remember that. Dad came home from the inspection absolutely fuming .”

She’d stayed up late that night, drawing in her sketch pad while he’d typed up his livid thoughts.

Kel’s tired cheeks twitched.

Bekn eventually joined them on the hill, as near as Savita would allow him.

The three said nothing, and though Kel hated that she needed help from anyone, let alone the Coupers brothers , the solace of their presence draped around her like a blanket.

Even if only for the next minute, the next hour, Kel wasn’t alone.

Savita was at her back and their nearness kept her mind from wading too deeply into static and smoke.

Her chest heaved with heavy sobs and her stomach roiled with nausea.

Something far deeper than tears escaped her, leaching into the night and easing her shoulders. It stole some of her fear.

As they sat upon that dark hill, watching the pyre dull to an endless gray, Kel thought she glimpsed what Savita’s eternity might look like.