The Fire God

Chapter One

FYI, the cover art is by me. I hope you like it. I stole the lettering off of Pinterest.

Dedicated to my beloved Kirsten

The plane touched down and the wheel burned rubber on the tarmac. I was watching the seat belt sign, waiting for it to go off. Eternity passed as we bounced to a halt. I jerked the seat belt away, shot to my feet and barreled down the aisle. Other passengers clotted the area. The flight attendants stood at the exit.

The colorless one with the big smile said, "Welcome to Whitehorse International Airport, Mr. Mricul."

That was my first name, but I ignored her. I lifted my hands into the air, strode to the luggage carousel. Baggage started to appear and passengers crowded around me. Some pushed past me, lurched for their suitcase. My bag was black and the name tag was in the Sinitic tongue.

Mu was waiting for me at the exit. She was on her feet, leaning on her cane. I'd just flown from Altai Airport to Ulaanbaatar, then across the Pacific to this place. Exhaustion weighed on me.

"No coat?" Mu said in the mother tongue.

"It's as if you don't know me." I gave her a great hug, then I walked in front of her to the door, held it open, waited for her to catch up. She'd move the cane ahead a step, then shuffle two or three steps, repeat.

"You need a coat."

I scanned the garage for one of her men. A large black car was in a handicapped parking space and an Asian man was standing at the door. I adjusted my stride to that direction.

"Don't ignore me, Phoenix."

She called me that just to irritate me.

"We aren't in Mongolia anymore. You'll attract attention. You want all those mortal archeologists gawking at you when you strut onto the dig site in a linen tunic and trousers?"

Archeologists? Mu had told me nothing of this venture. That single word was a glaring puzzle piece.

She continued, "You're getting a coat."

I might have been annoyed enough to groan, but I wouldn't allow Mu to know she had disturbed my calm. I got out of the car, stretched while Mu directed the driver to stop at a clothing shop. When she returned, she also handed me a pink liquid confection.

I took one sip and was assaulted by a rush of sugar. I ripped the cup from my lips, deposited it in the cup holder.

"It's called a unicorn frappuccino," Mu said. "I thought it would amuse you."

"Real unicorns aren't sweet."

"There's a toy, My Little Pony."

"I'm aware. You've given me dozens of them over the decades." Perhaps she thought because I ignored her that I paid no attention to her ridiculous gifts.

"They make people think unicorns are nice and sweet."

"They were corrupted before that," I muttered.

I had no sense of time, but the unicorn blend had melted to a purple ooze as we neared the peak of the mountain. Mu sent away her driver. She shuffled ahead of me, leaning her entire body on her cane. Clunk, swish, swish, clunk, swish, swish. She was cutting a path into the white fluff. I surveyed the land around me. Spring had found the base of the mountain, but the Yukon summit was covered in snow. The side of the cliff was sheer. I peered into the abyss, the endless drop to a pit I couldn't see. I glanced at Mu. She was a few meters further along, so I moved after her.

"I had your tent pitched out here so you could be alone," she said, still speaking the mother tongue. She pulled the canvas aside and let me enter first. "It's cold, but you'll warm it up."