Phoenix Gift

Prologue

A high-pitched wail resonated through Zephros castle. In the meadow bordering the castle, unicorns, alicorns, and pegasi raised their heads to gaze at the three suns. It was midday: after a thousand years, Chakra once again drew near. The residents of the castle nervously waited to hear the state of their queen.

King Xavier waited in the anteroom. He paced back and forth in front of the bedroom door, running his hands through his flaxen hair. His other hand rested on the pommel of his sword hanging from his hip. Though he was trained in the art of warfare, all that knowledge was completely useless for the battle going on behind closed doors.

Six sorcerers gathered near him, chanting spells of protection. Near the window, a gypsy wiseman sat in a meditative silence puffing on a pipe. He was the only one in the room who noticed the suns. Another wail resounded from the adjoining bedchamber.

* * *

On the other side of the heavy oak doors, Queen Akina lay in bed, pale, sweating and shivering. Her sister, Netis, dabbed her forehead with a damp cloth, smoothing her golden hair away from her face. Though they were sisters, they couldn’t look any more different. Akina had a fair complexion while her sister was darker. Netis also had thick, honey-brown hair, which was far more common among gypsies.

It was Akina’s unusual countenance that led to several difficulties while she grew up. Her appearance marked her as a child of sin, though the fault was not her own, rather the man who had r***d her mother. Even so, several in her troop avoided her, and she had learned long ago to rely on herself.

The other ladies hurried from the bedchamber to the bath, fetching blankets and warm water. The witch Rhi’ana crouched at the foot of the bed, crushing herbs for potions. A small, light green dragon lay curled up on a cushioned bench. The reptilian watched the proceedings with intense interest, never blinking as small streams of smoke trailed out of its nostrils. Next to the dragon, the witch’s cat, an orange tabby watched.

Akina’s baby was not expected for another moon: a premature birth was an ill omen for mother and child. Shuddering, Akina thought of her own birth. It was also premature. The strain had killed her mother.

However, Akina’s mother didn’t have a witch, especially one as skilled as Rhi’ana. The baby turned. Akina pulled herself up to numbly stared at the witch. Rhi’ana stared into the Queen’s eyes and nodded. Akina let her body fall back into the softness of the bed as another wave of pain forced her down.

If Kamali comes, let me take the death-walk. Let that be my sacrifice.

Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked to clear them, but her vision remained indistinct. The others seemed distant, their voices muffled through the waves of pain.

Please, Kamali, do not take her away from me.

Outside, Atropos, the largest of the suns, moved to the peak of its journey. Akina screamed in agony as Rhi’ana instructed her to push.

Lachesis, the middle sun, rose into position.

Akina’s pain intensified and then numbness overcame her senses. Her vision blurred. She saw Rhi’ana, her sister and the others moving around the room, but their forms were shadowy and indistinct. Memories of her past flashed in her mind: her life with her gypsy band, Xavier proposing in the moonlit garden, her wedding, the island, the unicorn.

Then she saw a violet mist rise from the floor. From it, a glowing red orb emerged. The orb expanded into the transparent form of a unicorn. It shimmered and solidified into a living being.

It was Deren, child of the night, white with accents of violet and lavender. A crystalline horn glistened red, shining like a ruby, and sprouted from its forehead. Its eyes were the deep violet of the night, as were its shining hooves. It raised its head. From the depths of its shimmering body came a mournful call: come, Kamali waits!

The red light of its horn grew brighter and cast an otherworldly glow on the room. Akina felt her spirit straining to greet the celestial beast. A shadow moved toward her. Revolving energy charged the air and a metallic taste permeated Akina’s mouth.

Clotho, the smallest sun, slowly drew near its larger sisters.

The unicorn stood in the birthing room, but only Akina seemed aware of its presence. Deren stepped forward, lowering its head. Akina felt a strange heat grow in her womb. The unicorn stepped back, flattening its ears. It shook its head and snorted in protest, then nodded. Akina felt the heat subside. Her chest ached, but birthing pains quickly masked it as her senses returned to normal and the unicorn disappeared into the mist. The glow of the unicorn’s red horn faded last of all.

The smallest sun moved into alignment and the three appeared as one.

The air stirred with Akina’s final scream.

* * *

In the adjoining room, the air stilled and seemed heavy. The sorcerers’ chants died to unintelligible murmurs. Smoke curled out from the gypsy’s pipe. Then a baby’s cry shattered the silence. The castle walls seemed to sigh with relief. The baby’s cries were hushed. The doors opened and Rhi’ana emerged. Xavier stood.

The witch allowed a smile to turn up the corners of her mouth. The words came slowly, “Congratulations, Your Majesty. You have a beautiful daughter.”

Xavier hurried past the sorcerers and the witch, through the open doors. Netis and the others were collecting the last of the soiled towels and sheets. Akina sat on the bed, propped up with pillows, cradling a bundle wrapped in a white wool blanket.

She smiled, though her face remained pale and strained. Xavier’s anxieties evaporated as he hurried to her side. He sat down beside Akina and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed, leaning into his embrace. Pulling the edge of the blanket away, she exposed the infant’s face.

The baby squirmed and opened her eyes. Her eyes were the same immeasurable sapphire blue as her mother’s and seemed to glow with a hidden energy. The baby sleepily looked at her father, then cast an unfocused gaze at the sorcerers, gypsies and ladies. Xavier stroked the baby’s smooth cheek with his forefinger. The baby blinked and smiled at him.

“Have you thought of a name for her?” Netis asked.

Akina gazed at the baby and announced, “Alexis.”

“Princess Alexis,” Xavier grinned. He kissed his wife’s forehead and stared fondly at his daughter.

“We shall announce the good news,” Rhi’ana bowed, gathered her basket of herbs and left. The orange tabby followed close at her heels.

The sorcerers bowed to the royalty, then departed, following the witch. It seemed odd that she would be so quick to leave the baby and mother. Rhi’ana had delivered many children on Milagros and often stayed throughout the first night even though none shared similar circumstances to this most recent birth.

The disparity made the wizards wary, but no one would question her experience. They marched down the maze of corridors in a silent procession toward the entry hall. Rhi’ana allowed her smile to drop. Her wrinkles revealed a grim and worried face.

The wizard nearest her studied her face with thoughtful, pale eyes before asking, “This is a happy day, Rhi’ana. What ill thoughts cloud your mind?”

The witch halted, but did not immediately answer. Her orange tabby leapt onto a nearby table and sat beside a jeweled vase. Hand-like forepaws dug the feline’s claws into the wooden table. The year-wizened cat shook his head, laid back his ears and said, “She was there, M’zuzi. The unicorn was there.”

The wizard blinked, slowly realizing it was the cat who spoke. It was common for familiars to learn to speak, but it was uncommon for them to communicate with anyone except their chosen partners. Though the wizard and witch had known each other for several centuries, this was the first time he heard the feline speak.

“Unicorn, Chester? Surely you jest,” the owl perched on M’zuzi’s shoulder shifted and blinked its golden eyes. The cat’s announcement seemed to have loosened the avian’s tongue.

The old cat growled and answered the owl through bared teeth, “Do not patronize me, Aldous. I saw her, the Night Child was there.”

“Kamali’s herald?” M’zuzi said.

“She came for her Majesty, or her newborn Highness. I know not which for certain,” Rhi’ana whispered, as if afraid to say it too loudly. Her cat twitched its tail, raising its head with a superior air.

“Well, Rhi’ana, your magic is vastly improving to dissuade the death-walker’s herald.”

“Not my magic. M’zuzi, you are the eldest and wisest of our council. You, above all, must realize that no amount of magic dissuades Deren, and she never returns to her mistress alone.”

“Yet, her Majesty and her Highness live, as do all who attended the birth.”

The owl ruffled his feathers in agreement with his master.

The witch stepped away from the wizard. Before continuing, she said in a solemn voice, “Deren was there.”

M’zuzi watched the witch depart with the orange tabby at her heels. On a ledge above the wizards, an invisible watcher listened. He cast his gaze out the stained-glass window and watched the suns slowly part and began their journeys to the western horizon.