Project Frostbite

Chapter 4

I sat down at the library computer and typed in the location I had copied onto a scrap of paper. The room was quiet, the librarian typing fluidly away on her computer, shushing anyone who dared break the silence. However, it was comfortable with no one talking, as though one word would shatter the tranquility like a rock through glass.

Cielo Nightclub - Where House Music Lives

I clicked onto the map and printed out a copy, before borrowing a red marker and tracing out my route to the club where - hopefully - Firestorm would be. Earlier I had called the number using the hotel phone, but it had simply said the number was unavailable. When I studied it afterwards, I realized they were a code for co-ordinates. Eventually I cracked the code, and realized that it spelt out a location. Before I left, I wiped the pen, the keyboard, and deleted my history from the computer, before completely powering it down and pulling the plug out from the wall.

As I walked past the history section, I couldn't help but scan the rows for any sign of magic. Eventually I settled on one that looked about a century old. I blew the dust off it and coughed as I read the cover.

The Legend of the Phoenix: The Origins of Pyrotechnics

I sighed. Better than nothing. I paid for the book and handed in my card. Leaving the library with my hood up, I hurried back to the hotel where I had stayed for the night. Letting my bag drop to the ground, I sank down onto the bed and opened the book, scanning the index page. I flipped to page 156, where it had legends of fire-wielders, both in fiction and in truth.

In Greek mythology, a phoenix or phenix (Greek: φοῖνιξ phoinix; Latin: phoenix, phœnix, fenix) is a long-lived bird that is cyclically regenerated or reborn.

Associated with the Sun, a phoenix obtains new life by arising from the ashes of its predecessor. According to some sources, the phoenix dies in a show of flames and combustion, although there are other sources that claim that the legendary bird dies and simply decomposes before being born again. According to some texts, the phoenix could live over 1,400 years before rebirth. Herodotus, Lucan, Pliny the Elder, Pope Clement I, Lactantius, Ovid, and Isidore of Seville are among those who have contributed to the retelling and transmission of the phoenix motif.

In the world, I myself have seen many examples of real-life fire-wielders. I like to call these people Phoenix Rising. From an unnamed source, I have been told that the element inside of you is like your twin, your other half. But you must be the master of the twin, or else the fire should become so unruly that you simply have no control over it. To first live in harmony with your element, the fire must surrender itself to you, admitting that you are the master of your body. If not, it could be a terrible danger to you, or those close to you.

I snapped the book shut. What a load of crap. I wasted no time in packing up my few belongings and wiping any trace of me from the room. I stared at the gun for a long time, watching it as it sat harmlessly on the bed, urging me to pick it up. When I decided I'd procrastinated long enough, I snatched the gun from its place and checked the safety was on, wrapping it in a jacket and stuffing it nozzle down at the bottom of my backpack.

I left the hotel through the fire door, shimmying through the alleyway and quickly mingling with the people that crowded the sidewalks. My hood had become like a second skin; it was never far from my face, and my hands clung to the inside of the pockets the way a dying person does to life support. Every now and then, I would duck into an alleyway or less crowded sidewalk and survey my map, changing direction or taking whatever shortcut I could to avoid as many people as possible. There had been no sightings of Blade, but that didn't mean he was far away.

I was taking a shortcut through an alleyway crowded with market stalls advertising all sorts of things, when a shadow caught my attention. It crossed the space between the two buildings above me and was gone in the blink of an eye, but I knew I wasn't imagining things when another followed it. A lean figure hidden by the light leapt from the right building to the left, following - or pursuing - the first shadow. Immediately assuming that it was Blade and his accomplice, I ducked my head down and began 'surveying' the stalls. As soon as I was out of there I quickened my pace, crouching slightly as I walked to change my height and confuse any followers.