Page 6 of Cry of the Firebird
"First, you're sleeping in my bed; now you're trying to steal my dinner. You aren't a very polite bird, are you?" The bird chirped more forcefully, and she relented, feeding it as much as it would eat.
After it was satisfied, the chick climbed out of the shirt and hopped on unsteady feet. It looked so ridiculous that Anya laughed at its feeble attempts.
"Careful, don't get too close to the fire," she warned. "You'll get burned, and I won't rescue you." It gave her an incredulous look before jumping into the flames.
"Shit!" Anya cursed and scrambled to get it out. The bird's little head turned and crowed with delight. The fire exploded, and Anya jerked backward, shielding her face. The bird shrieked again and flapped its wings before launching itself up the chimney.
"What the actual fuck?" Anya gasped and scrambled to her feet. She ran outside as the bird streaked out of the top of the chimney stack in a flash of orange light. It flew higher and higher before exploding like a firework, then swooping back down to earth, full-grown and made of living flame.
"Holy…shit," Anya muttered. It looked like a peacock with a curling tail and had shimmering, burning feathers. It cooed softly and walked towards the house.
"You'd better be able to turn your flames off if you think you're coming back inside," Anya said, feeling more hysterical by the second.
The bird tilted its head as if it was listening to her. Then it stamped one foot, the flames disappearing and leaving only silky gold and red feathers.
"Oh, I suppose you can," Anya said, following it inside and wondering how her week could get any weirder.
Seethe man in the forest and the bowl of blood he holds. Vasilli is breathing in the steam rising from it. He opens his eyes as the bowl explodes in flames, searing his face and hands. The bowl shatters, and he is thrown back into the leaf litter. Vasilli opens his eyes and starts laughing loudly.
"Finally, I will get to kill you!" Vasilli knew the shaman had the stone, and now he would get the firebird, kill his brother, and be done with that cursed gatekeeper family once and for all.
"Vischto! Vischtan!" he shouts, and his minions come bounding out of the trees, their fur filthy with dried blood. "We are going hunting."
CHAPTER FOUR
Anya lay in bed the following morning, staring at the pine knots on the ceiling beams and trying to process the past few days.
The previous evening, the firebird had curled up on the floor in front of the fire and had gone to sleep. Anya had woken a few times in the night and checked on it, still struggling to believe what she had seen. The stone Tuoni had given her wasn't a stone at all. Did he know it would hatch?
It's your destiny. How was a firebird going to help her with everything she needed to learn?
Anya got dressed and crept out to where she had left the bird sleeping. She froze in the doorway. A very tall, very naked man was currently stretched out on the mat beside the fire. She tiptoed around him and grabbed the poker to defend herself.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, nudging him with the end.
The man woke with a surprised jerk, his glowing eyes filled with fear and alarm before flames licked up along his brown skin. He twisted on the carpet, crying out in pain as fiery feathers pushed and burned their way out of his arms and chest. His bodyfolded in on itself with a crunch of bones, and suddenly he was the firebird, squawking irritably as flames dripped onto the rug.
"Stop that! You're going to burn the house down." Anya dropped the poker and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, ready to beat them out. The firebird hissed at her, and Anya jumped backward as it grew again, the flames and feathers sucking in and arms spurting from its wings.
With a shout, it transformed back into a man on his hands and knees. Long, dark hair hung around a face with strong cheekbones and eyes that glowed with orange and amber light.
"Can… Can I have that blanket?" he asked in a rough, deep voice.
Anya tossed it to him, too stunned to object. The man shook himself, and the ozone smell of storms and wildfire emanated from him.
"Are you okay?" Anya asked, sitting down before she fell. After meeting the God of the Dead and having a firebird hatch, a naked man didn't seem so frightening. At least, that was what she told herself.
"I think so." He hugged the blanket around himself. "Who are you?"
"My name is Anya Venäläinen, and you are?"
He frowned at the question. After a moment, he said in his ruined voice, "Yvan Tsarevich. At least, I used to be."
"I'm going to make some coffee. Would you like some?" she asked, not knowing what else to do.
He nodded and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Anya stumbled into the kitchen, gripped the countertop, and took five deep breaths.
You have a shapeshifting firebird in your sitting room. She spilled grounds everywhere as she tried to make coffee with shaking hands.