The Phoenix Thief

Chapter 29

Joakim scrambled back in alarm. A bear! Tall as a horse and golden in the firelight. Strange, but the horses themselves weren't panicked, unlike the humans. Erstas and Hoi-Yan jerked back in surprise. Cren swept her two-handed sword from its shoulder harness.

"I knew trusting you was a mistake!" a voice growled. "Thieves and traitors. How dare you steal from us? I should kill you where you stand."

It was the bear that spoke, its maw thick with teeth. But was it a bear? The more he watched the less sure Joakim became. The form flickered before his eyes, one minute claws and fur, the next bare skin and human limbs. As the seconds passed, the human form became clearer, until, huge and golden-haired, Helfor stood in its place, a tattered tunic all that covered his modesty.

"A shifter," Erstas whispered, "this explains so many things."

"And your theft explains so many others," Helfor snapped. He looked almost-fully human now, his hands formed into fists, but still tipped with claws. "I told Gremilda not to trust you, kind-hearted fool that she is." He crossed the clearing quickly. "I swear, if it were up to me..."

He wasn't as fast as Cren, who leapt, sword raised, barring his path to Erstas. "No closer, creature. I've killed bigger fey than you."

Had she? Joakim's thoughts drifted loose, the buzzing roaring in his ears. Dazed, his eyes were drawn towards a strange shape forming on the other side of the fire. Under the misshapen trees a red light swirled, appearing out of nothing to meld with the vanishing shadows of the dawn. The red shape grew larger by the minute and with its size grew the certainty that he must go to it.

Whatever it was, it seemed that he alone saw it, his companions fixated only on Helfor's appearance.

"I can explain," Erstas said, stepping forward to stand between the two of them. "We need the book. It is important. Hands worse than our own seek it. For the good of all After it must be destroyed, or else hidden where it can never be found. Please. Listen, if you'll just give me the chance I can make you understand!"

The red portal grew to the size of a man, and man-shaped figures stepped out of it. Joakim could not make out details, but the sense of menace wafted over him as perhaps a dozen forms appeared to linger beneath the twisting boughs.

"If your fate was in my hands, you'd be dead already," Helfor snarled. He crouched as if to spring, his words spoken over the increased nickering of the horses. "The abbess comes. And the might of the valley comes with her. You might wish for a simple death once she is through with you."

"Gremilda's coming?" Erstas said, his voice brightening. The hand carrying his blue orb stilled instantly. "She's wise enough to listen. Stand down Cren. There is no need for bloodshed. There never is."

"Not true," a voice said, cold and deep and terribly familiar.

Turick, Joakim's mind supplied. With that name came knowledge–the memory of a will like death and a night long forgotten.

"I think you'll find there's plenty of need for bloodshed, scholar. How better to know you've lost than to watch your friends sent into death and brought painfully back up again?" With a scowl, Turick stepped out of the trees, his bald head pale in the dawning light. Other shapes joined him–Restus, short and bearded, grinning like a demon, and others that Joakim didn't recognise. Tall men, perhaps a dozen, armed with spears, their faces covered with blue paint.

Cren moved fast, turning to face the soldiers, but Joakim was faster, passing the book to his left hand, he snatched up a stone from the ground with his right. He stepped forward and struck Erstas across the head.

What am I doing? A part of him screamed. He would have dropped the rock with horror, but his fingers did not obey. Instead he could only stand stupidly, with blood wet on his hands.