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Chapter Forty-Four: Siren Song
Time passed and the light never changed in the room. Ilyria and Suluu slept, they woke, they made love, they slept again. In her dreams, she joined her mother at the dining table in the mansion of her childhood. Daria Agrio was young and beautiful. Her hair shimmered with jewels and her robe was woven of a silk so delicate her nipples appeared rosily through the thin fabric. At her side appeared a series of suitors. As each left, he kissed Daria’s pale cheek, picked up the small gold scissors on the table before her and snipped off a lock of hair bearing a jewel or a thread of silk from her robe. Her mother appeared not to notice. In the dream, Ilyria was seated at the far end of the table, unable to move or speak. She watched helplessly as Daria was stripped of her fine robe and all her jewels, her beautiful hair shorn, and still the suitors appeared. One of the suitors finally noticed Ilyria and walked toward her, his smile stretching across his mouth, wider and wider until it see
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Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Forty-Five: A Strange Box
Ilyria sat down in the grass next to the Mogul. “What are you doing?” she asked. Her voice sounded muffled. “I have to fix it,” said the Mogul. “Fix what,” said Ilyria, trying to see what he was working on. “I have to fix it,” said the Mogul again. He went on to repeat these words over and over as his long slim fingers continued their tireless obsessive task. The box was made of an ashy wood and consisted of four sliding panels. The Mogul had one panel open and was working at the delicate set of gears it revealed. Peering over his shoulder, she saw that the gears were not working. The missing part was the fragile chain that the Mogul held between his thumb and forefinger. Ilyria held her breath while he tried again and again to thread the chain over the gears. When, finally it was done, she exhaled. He turned the box to access the next sliding panel. They both heard the little jingle against the wooden floor of the box as the chain fell off th
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Forty-Six: Derha
The box, hovered above the dazed siren, giving off a low hum. And within the safety of that hum, Ilyria could no longer hear the siren’s voices. It seemed neither could the Mogul. He scratched his head and looked at her, then looked away. Mortified, Ilyria realized she was naked again. She stretched out her hand. “Please may I have some clothes?” The Mogul quickly shed his tunic but kept his pants. His bare chest was thin and sparsely covered with grey hairs, his face thin to the point of emaciation. His skin hung loosely and was tinged with yellow. Ilyria realized with alarm that he looked old and sick. Looking at him now, she realized that he must be the same age her father would have been. Subjected to months of this ordeal, he had suffered. Could he still save Idixat? Was this the man who would restore true justice to her home? Meanwhile the hum had disoriented the sirens who, though they had formed a circle around Mogul and Ilyria, seemed unable
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Forty-Seven: Zlo and the Queen
The queen snapped her fingers and Fierce appeared in front of her, her four paws splayed, teeth bared and wings spread. She hissed at the queen. Ilyria rushed forward to pick her up but the panicked kitten heard only movement behind her and lashed out with her tail which had grown to twice the length of her body and was covered in sharp scales. Ilyria screamed in pain. Her kitten had grown. She sank to her knees. “Fierce,” she whispered, “Fierce it’s me.” At the sound of her voice, the little creature stopped fighting thouth her teeth were still bared and her eyes still shone with yellow fire. It was all Ilyria could do to keep her nerve. She held out her hand. The fire went out in Fierce’s eyes. She closed her wings and trotted over to Ilyria, head-bumping her hands and purring in happiness. Ilyria’s eyes teared up. She had not lost Fierce. “She’s not a dragon,” said Ilyria, stroking Fierce’s head and scratching her back between t
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Forty-Eight: Little Time
The shield around them wavered as conflicting emotions ran through Ilyria. Astrapi felt like home to her and that made no sense. She was angry with him because she could not trust him and that did make sense. But then she was also confused because she was the only who seemed to think there was anything trustworthy or even worthwhile in him. The shield faded and blinked but stayed in place. Madame Skia, with her sister’s body still in her arms looked up at Ilyria. “No, Ilyria,” she said, “I beg of you. Do not trust him. Listen to me. He is Zlo’s twin.” Astrapi stood before the shield but seemed not to be able to see beyond it. As it wavered, he leaned closer, as though he knew something was there. He reached out and touched it, then grimaced in pain and quickly withdrew his hand. Ilyria concentrated and the shield glowed once more, steady. But she was growing tired and without the queen to help, she and Madame Skia would not be able to hold it for long.
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Forty-Nine: Idixat Burns
Madame Skia helped Ilyria to thread the path through whirling mists of enchantment, each holding clearly in her own mind, the vision of the House to which they needed and wanted to return, each feeling her own sense of anticipation, fear and relief. Ilyria knew it as home because that was where the companions were. Her friends. Though she blushed now to think of the Miasma she had known in Utzed, the fantasy produced by the sirens. As though in response, she heard the soft voices somewhere in the mist, then Thassa’s gruff tones. Fierce dug her claws into Ilyria’s shoulder. Madame Skia stopped and Ilyria paused with her. Ilyria knew that Madame Skia wanted more than anything to return to Nicos—her love—and to her sisters, and the companions. The home she had built from nothing. But she had her love and her duty toward her slain sister. Madame Skia smiled at Ilyria. “Tell him I will be home soon,” she said. Ilyria nodded, feeling her eyes tear up. There was no
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Fifty: Laws are Broken
Ilyria looked at Astrapi. “The rest of the world seems ambitious,” she said, “Can we start with Idixat.” Astrapi shrugged as if it were all the same to him. “Come,” said Bonbon, assuming Madame Skia’s role, “Let us sit while we can.” Sidian lit the tapers around the room and a soft glow suffused the dining hall making it seem warm and welcoming. Except for the thuds and shouts and blows that still emanated from the streets of the city and that set the boarded windows to shuddering. Bonbon looked out the hall and reported back that the canopy had burned out. There were benefits to the stone structure of the House. They settled at their habitual places in the dining hall, too weary for more panic. By silent agreement, the head of the table was left for the Mogul. Astrapi declined a seat—his wings made him an uncomfortable partner at the table—and stayed near the door. “It started around a fortnight ago,” said Thas
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Fifty-One: A Flawed Plan
“So how will you get there?” asked Miasma, her eyes were wide and frightened in dim room. The noises from the street had subsided a little but it felt like only a pause. Like the quiet in the storm between thunderclaps. “You cannot go out there.” Ilyria looked at Astrapi. “Miasma is right. I need help getting to the Palace,” said Ilyria. “Can’t you just,” said Flame, standing and stretching her back with a crack. Fierce looked up drowsily from where she was now sleeping on the floor. Flame waved her hands around, “I don’t know, make magick to get there like you did to get here?” “It only works if I know the place I’m going to very well. I must be able to visualize it clearly. That’s why it’s always easiest for me to come back here. It’s the place I find most easy to think of.” Especially when she was scared or sad or angry. When does a place become a home? And when does love turn to deception. Was Suluu a deception? Ilyria stood and walked ove
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Fifty-Two: A Familiar Stranger
Ilyria held the token between her hands. At first nothing happened. There was no mist. The ground beneath her feet was still the stone of the House of Madame Skia, and when she looked up and looked around, she saw … … the faces of her friends as though through a dark veil. They stared toward her but no longer at her. She saw Flame’s confusion. She watched Fierce flapping and hovering, claws outstretched. Fierce was just outside the veil and Ilyria knew that she would be able to pass through. “No, Fierce,” she said, and her voice echoed in the strange space. Her breath came in puffs of white cloud as though it were cold, yet her skin prickled with moisture and warmth. Fierce tilted her head, then flapped a few more times and went to settle on Miasma’s shoulder. Miasma winced as Fierce settled by making biscuits with her paws. She is no dragon, thought Ilyria, all cat. Ilyria turned in the darkening space, her steps sounding muffled against th
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