Flight of the Crow Read online

  “Lazarus made her into an adult. She was an infant.”

  Katherine’s old, faded black eyes grew round. “She could die on you at any moment. His powers are great but they always come at a price.”

  “No, I won’t listen to you,” Bryn cried. “She has to live her full cycle. The curse has not changed for a thousand years.”

  “Send her to me and I will perform a seeking. If the angels smile on me, we will see what he has done.”

  When Bryn got home, she found Quinn sitting in the morning room with his boots resting on the bricks of the fireplace. In his lap was the skull Priest had taken from the tomb of the evil Cardinal Malenfant. He looked up when she came in. “This is my key to capturing Draak Priest. If he must have it for his ritual, he will try to retrieve it.”

  Exhausted, Bryn sat next to him on the small settee. “I’m not sure what role he had planned for the skull. If, indeed it is of importance, you are right, he will try to get it back.”

  “We must be ready for him.”

  Bryn rose and rested her hand on Quinn’s shoulder. She’d come to love this man. He was faithful and true and a steady influence in her life. She prayed she would not have to watch him grow old while she remained ever young. “I am very tired, my love,” she said. “I’m going up to sleep. Has Fenix come in yet?”

  Quinn inclined his head toward the staircase. “She went up not ten minutes before you came in.”

  “I need to speak to her but it can wait until I get some rest.”

  Quinn slowly stood up. “May I sleep with you?”

  Bryn allowed him to wrap his arm around her. She rested her head on his broad shoulder. “I would welcome your strength and your warmth.”

  Together they climbed into her big bed, curled up under the down quilt and went to sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Fenix lay in her bed unable to close her eyes. She counted every swirl on the damask canopy, following each as though it were a pathway out of darkness. Her heart was weighed down with guilt. It was her fault Mistress Chat was dead. It was her fault Bryn was burdened with stealing the dagger from Draak Priest. Everything was her fault.

  She heard Bryn and Quinn come up to bed and made a decision. She would do a scrying on her own and find him. She’d been in his room. She’d taken his hairbrush. There had been three hairs in it. She would use those hairs and her connection with the evil man to find him.

  She dressed in black, a color she rarely wore, covered her hair with a black silk scarf to shield its brightness, and went down the stairs and into the basement.

  Sam’s lab was empty. Bryn’s friend and lover was obsessed with the Exposition. Sam and Tomlinson spent every day there talking to other inventors while they studied the crazy new machines on display. She crossed the lab and entered a small room connected to the lab by a narrow corridor. It was shaped from the living rock into a circle with a pentagram, a five-sided star, etched into the floor. At the center of the star a small altar supported a huge crystal. It was a foot tall and as clear as spring water. When Fenix wrapped her hands around it, she felt the energy it held pulsing through her veins and it began to glow.

  She took the three hairs out and laid them in front of the crystal. The bright light the crystal emitted became a beam of white fire focused on the three hairs. Fenix created a fireball in her hands and passed it around the crystal three times. The crystal’s glow turned yellow as the heart of the crystal burned with the intensity of the flames. When the crystal’s heart seemed to be alight, Fenix grasped it in both hands and stared into it.

  What she saw made her gasp. Draak Priest was slowly stalking Samantha. He was inside the Galerie des Machines perched high on one of the massive girders supporting the roof of the huge building. Below him Sam and Tomlinson were taking apart a huge steam-powered generator. Tools and parts lay everywhere and both Sam and Tomlinson were covered in soot, grease and sweat. As Fenix watched with her hand over her mouth, Priest dropped from the rafters and snatched Sam. While Fenix watched, Priest tossed Sam over his shoulder, leaped back into the rafters, ran down a huge girder, out a window and onto the roof.

  She hung onto the vision refusing to let Priest out of her sight. When he was on the roof, his head suddenly came up and he looked right into Fenix’s eyes. He took a rosary out of his pocket and wrapped it around Sam’s throat with a huge grin on his ancient features. He kissed the cross and began to tighten the rosary. Sam’s eyes were wide and terrified as the connection suddenly broke.

  Fenix fell back with a cry and lay on the cold stones panting. She had to do something. Should she rouse Bryn? In her heart, she knew that was the right thing to do, but she wanted to do something on her own. She yearned to show Bryn she had what it took to handle Draak Priest without help. She needed to prove herself. With this primal desire driving her, she ran out of the house and transformed into a phoenix. As the bright bird, she leaped into the air and flew toward the Seine and the Exposition. She spotted the Eifel Tower in minutes and winged her way toward it and the huge structure known as the Galerie des Machines.

  Her heart raced. Turning into the phoenix could accelerate her aging. She had no idea how old she was because of Lazarus’s interference in her natural cycle, but she cared nothing for that. What froze her blood in her veins was the fear Priest would murder Sam before she could get there.

  Her enormous golden wings took her over the massive roof of the building. She spotted the place where Priest had stood moments before with Sam in his arms. He was gone.

  She circled, crying out in the screeching voice of the phoenix. Where had he gone? She could have ruined everything by trying to save Sam on her own. She circled lower, despair filling her chest. She had almost given up when she heard the roar of a dragon and Draak Priest in his dragon shape rose to meet her with Sam clutched in one talon.

  She screamed and the dragon responded with a roar and a belch of fire. Fire was Fenix’s special element and she could not be harmed by it. She gathered the stinking sulfurous flames into a ball in her claws and threw it back at the dragon. The blazing fireball hit the dragon in the snout and spread across its head. The dragon roared, dropped Sam, and shook fiery globs of melted dragon skin onto the roof of the building. Fenix dived on Priest. She grabbed the dragon’s long neck in her claws and pulled the beast off the roof of the building and high into the dawn sky, as far to the east, the sun began to light the edge of the city.

  The dragon fought, squirmed around and clawed at her. Fenix had to drop it when one of the dragon’s talons raked her breast scoring her flesh through the plate of feathers. Priest took the opportunity to make his escape. The dragon took off like a shot toward the city center. Fenix ignored the searing pain of her wound, righted herself and dived after the fleeing dragon.

  Priest gained altitude as he tried to escape her. Around the dragon’s neck its flesh had been burned into charred meat. Scales fell from the burned portions leaving a trail of large chitinous plates that would, no doubt, be discovered in the morning and marveled over. Fenix’s huge wings swooped as she rose into the early-morning sky, determined to catch the fleeing dragon. Fenix was blind to everything but Draak Priest and the exultant feeling in her breast. She had him on the run.

  She created another fire ball and threw it at the dragon. The flames hit it in the back and spread as she slowly closed the gap between them. The dragon suddenly folded its leathery wings and dived toward the Seine far below trailing flames and sooty smoke. Fenix screamed and followed. The two shot toward the ground. Fenix was determined to catch Priest now while he was wounded, before he could recover as she knew he would.

  The dragon glanced over its flaming shoulders and shot into the river. A huge geyser of water plumed into the sky as the dragon submerged. Fenix swooped low over the winding Seine. Her golden eyes spun as she stared through the murky river water searching for the dark shape of the dragon. But Priest was gone. Dragons could swim under the water. Fenix in her phoenix body could not. The air was her
home. She shrieked with frustration and followed the snaking path of the river for miles hunting for the dragon though she knew in her heart the search was futile. Priest could turn back into his human form and exit the water anywhere. All he had to do was lay low and wait.

  Dispirited, her hopes crushed, Fenix winged her way back to the Exposition. She landed on the roof of the Galerie des Machines and resumed her human form. Samantha lay where Priest had dropped her, unmoving and crumpled. Fenix ran across the roof and crouched beside the witch. She laid a hand on her chest to feel for a heartbeat. At first she thought the search was fruitless. Sam was dead. There was no saving her. She dropped her head to Sam’s chest and willed Sam to live. Bryn would never forgive her if Sam died.

  Suddenly, she felt a faint flutter and then heard the thin thready beat of her heart. There was still life inside Sam. Fenix clutched Sam close to her, rejoicing. All she needed to save Sam was the faintest, weakest sign she still lived. Her heartbeat was a mere whisper, but Sam was alive.

  Tears fell from Fenix’s golden eyes onto Sam’s face. Each glistening droplet that landed on Sam’s closed eyes brought more life to the witch. Her heartbeat strengthened, her eyelids fluttered and finally opened. Fenix drew Sam into an embrace as she sobbed with gratitude for the gift of her tears. The tears of the phoenix had saved Samantha. As she stared into the dear face with its round brown eyes, freckles and pug nose, she remembered all the moments they had shared. When Lazarus gave her this new life, he’d granted her access to hundreds of years of memories. She was able to remember the first time she met Sam in Salem when Bryn had saved her from the flames where she’d been condemned to die as a witch.

  Bryn had brought Sam home and hidden her in the root cellar. A true witch hunt ensued for Samantha through the town of Salem, Massachusetts. The town elders led a horde of residents from door to door searching for Sam. Bryn had kept her safe and hidden and when the hunt was over, they’d left Salem and gone to Europe taking Sam and her familiar, Fingle, with them. Fenix had been only ten in that incarnation, yet she could now remember back even further.

  Sam reached up and took one of Fenix’s magic tears on the tip of a finger. She grinned and sucked the moisture off the finger. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know how you knew, or where you came from, but my thanks are yours and I am in your debt.”

  Fenix helped Sam to her feet and tried to brush some of the soot, dust and dirt off Sam’s cotton shirt and leather skirt. “There’s no need to thank me. I was scrying for Priest and saw you. Of course I had to come.”

  Sam looked out over the city. The sun had come up and birds were singing. “Where did he go?”

  “Into the river. I lost him.”

  Sam took her hand. “Do not worry. The devil will return here. He has a lair somewhere inside the Exposition. We must get Bryn and help her find it.”

  Chapter 14

  Bryn’s eyes flew open as she erupted from sleep with a start. She shoved Quinn off her pillow. “Fenix is in trouble.”

  Quinn groaned. “What’s new? You were the one who wanted her to be an adult. I seem to remember you telling me it would be easier to take care of her.”

  “Have a care,” Bryn snarled. “I’m not in the mood.”

  Quinn snorted but obediently rose from the bed and went to his own room to dress. Bryn rushed out of the bedroom to Fenix’s room. As she already knew, it was empty. She went back into the hall and ran into Fingle. “Where is she?” Bryn demanded.

  “She went into the basement.” Fingle’s voice was a monotone.

  “Damn her!” Bryn raced into her room and threw on a split skirt and a blouse. Hopping around the room, she yanked on her boots and then rushed down the stairs. In the basement, she immediately realized Fenix had performed a scrying. The crystal in the center of the altar still glowed. Bryn placed her hands on each side of the huge rock and peered into its depths. A hazy vision of a gold and red bird filled the crystal. Bryn focused all her power on the phoenix and saw a black dragon spray fire at it. Behind the battling creatures a metal tower rose against the blush of a dawn sky.

  Bryn ran from the room, bolted up the steps and right into Quinn. “You know where she is?” he asked.

  “The Exposition!”

  Quinn held her still. “Quiet for a moment. Don’t go rushing off half-cocked.”

  “You don’t understand,” Bryn cried. “She’s turned herself into a phoenix to fight Draak Priest. She’ll speed up the aging process and die.”

  Quinn released her. “She’s a phoenix? I didn’t know she could do that.”

  Bryn raced up the stairs with Quinn right behind her. “It’s worse than that,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “How could it be?”

  “They’re at the Exposition.”

  “The deuce you say, Arthur’s there!”

  “And Sam.”

  Dressed, her corset of weapons in place, they ran to the mews. Fingle had a fast curricle waiting harnessed to a team of speedy horses. They leaped in and Fingle whipped up the horses.

  When they careened into the Exposition, it was early morning and workers and some visitors were arriving. Fingle avoided the crowds, tooled the carriage through the gates and turned toward the huge building housing the Galerie des Machines. When they reached the entrance, Quinn leaped out of the carriage and ran inside.

  Bryn placed her hand on Fingle’s shoulder. “Take me around the back.”

  When they reached the rear of the building, they found Fenix, now a woman, supporting Sam. Bryn vaulted out of the curricle and grabbed Sam. The witch was as pale as a corpse. She turned on Fenix. “What did you do?”

  Sam tried to speak and Fenix hushed her. “Why do you always think the worst of me?”

  Bryn snarled. “I only respond to past experiences. You’re unstable, Fenix. How could you transform into a phoenix? You know it saps your life force. You could burst into flames at any moment. Because of Lazarus, we have no way of knowing how old you are.”

  “Lazarus,” Fenix’s voice was filled with loathing. “And whose fault is that?”

  “Mine,” Bryn said in a flat voice. “My fault for trying to save you.”

  “Stop trying to save me!” Fenix screamed. “I can save myself.”

  “Oh sure, when you’re a sucking infant?”

  Fenix immediately burst into tears and Sam wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. “She saved me, Bryn. If she hadn’t shown up and fought Priest, he would have murdered me. His rosary was already around my neck.”

  Bryn’s eyes filled with tears. “How did he find you?”

  “He’s here,” Sam said. “He’s got a lair somewhere in the Exposition.”

  Bryn took Sam and Fenix home while Quinn stayed at the Exposition with Tomlinson to search for Priest’s lair. When they got back to the house, Lazarus was waiting. He threw back the hood when Bryn approached. “Time is running out,” he said with an evil leer.

  “Why are you here?” Bryn had no time for courtesy. She wanted to head into the basement and consult the crystal. They needed to find Priest now.

  “I imagine for the same reason as you. Priest just swam down the Seine as a dragon. What have you been doing, my dear? You have the knack of stirring up the forces like no one I’ve ever met.”

  Bryn stomped into her house followed closely by Lazarus and Fenix supporting Sam.

  “Trying to survive. It gets harder every day.”

  “You’re supposed to be finding my dagger. I have made a discovery I think you might be interested in.”

  Bryn stopped in the morning room. Babbette was there to greet them. “Babbette, take Miss Fenix and Sam upstairs. They need rest. Both are depleted from recent exertions and Sam was injured.”

  “Yes, Miss,” Babbette said as she lifted one side of Sam and Fenix supported the other. “I’m not going to bed!” Fenix snarled. “I’ve spent centuries in the dark. I will be included in whatever you have planned.”

  Bryn sighed. “Fine, j
ust get Sam into bed and come back down. I need to find out what Lazarus has to say.”

  Fingle brought a tea tray in and set it on the marquetry table next to Bryn’s chair. “Tea?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Thank you, Fingle.”

  Lazarus grinned, showing those fangs. “I’ll pass, but I also thank you.”

  When Fingle left the room, Bryn sipped her tea. It was a special blend designed to restore and provide energy. “So tell me.”

  “The vampire who killed your friend Chat, has been dealt with. Apparently, it was merely a crime of opportunity. A starving beast taking advantage of a weak victim.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “I don’t care if you believe it. You asked for my help, I’m providing it, which is more than I can say for you. Where is my dagger?”

  “Why is it so important to you?”

  “That is not the issue. Its importance is moot. It is mine and it was stolen. I want it back. Where is it? Do you even know?”

  Bryn blushed, heat filling her cheeks. “I’m working on it. As we speak, my partner is searching the Exposition for Priest. We know he has a lair there.”

  Lazarus leaned back in the flowered-damask chair and crossed his thin legs. He tapped one of his fangs with a fingernail. “The Exposition? A strange choice but one that must have meaning. Do you know what that meaning could be?”

  Bryn shrugged. “Not at the moment. I believe he must perform his ritual at the rising of the full moon. If I do not find him sooner, I will look for him in the tombs beneath the city. From his excessive interest in the catacombs I have deduced he will perform his ritual there.”

  Lazarus nodded. “Very old evil dwells in those catacombs. I assume Priest knows what power lies therein and plans to make use of it.”

  Bryn leaned forward. “Do not be concerned with Priest. I will get the dagger and I will kill him.”

  Lazarus’s dry chuckle filled the room. “You’ve not shown yourself up to the task so far, my dear. I count the moments until your sister is mine. The dagger or your sister, which does not really matter to me. Both are precious beyond price.”