Phoenix Born Read online

  I got dressed quickly and drove to Tristan’s Cemetery. The cemetery was only for wizards and witches and was run by the Hall of Wizardry. One day both Drew and I would be buried there to. Well, not buried. Nobody was buried in the cemetery. Wizards were burned and their ashes scattered back into nature. Our essence was returned to the place where all energy came from. To commemorate the lives of our lost ones we still placed headstones in the ground. Thousands of headstones stood in neat rows with nothing beneath them. It meant you could stand anywhere without feeling weird about standing on someone’s grave.

  I found Drew at his son’s grave. The white marble stood humbly in the shade of a long dead tree. Engraved in the stone in gold letters was:

  SAMUEL GRAVES

  25.11.1988 - 29.08.2009

  Taken too soon.

  How true that was. He’d only been twenty-one when he’d died but I’d lost him a long time before then. I hated this day. Every year I had to come here with Drew and remember the past. Remember the pain.

  Samuel and I had grown up as brothers, having both been raised by Drew. Samuel’s mother died young just like mine had. His mother had died whilst giving birth. Some people said that he had it worse than I did because he never got to spend any time with his mother. I disagree. Samuel never knew his mother. He never felt the pain of losing her. He was spared that ordeal. His mother was taken against her will. My mother chose to die. She chose to leave me.

  My whole life I’d never been as close to anybody as I was to Sam. He was only a year older than me so we were virtually the same age. We did everything together. We used to wait until Drew had fallen asleep and then sneak out. We’d go down to the woods near Drew’s house and practice the spells that we were forbidden from using. We needed to do it less and less as we grew older and fewer spells were forbidden to us.

  I was always better at spellcraft than Sam was. I had a knack for picking up spells the first time I tried but he always had trouble mastering them. My magic was stronger too. I never understood how that was. I told him time and again simply to draw more energy to convert but he just got angry and ended up storming off. To say he had a bit of a temper would have been an understatement. Sam was always better than me at rituals, but that didn’t make him feel better. We rarely needed to perform rituals whereas spells were a daily habit.

  Something happened when we reached our teenage years. He and Drew argued more frequently but it was always out of earshot so I never knew what they were arguing about. Sometimes I would hear my name. Then one day Sam was just gone. It was shortly after my fifteenth birthday. I woke up to find all Sam’s things were gone. He’d packed up in the night and vanished like a ghost. Drew refused to talk about it. He withdrew into himself. Several nights were spent just sitting at the dining table drinking cheap whiskey and staring into space.

  It was months later that I learned the truth. Drew had sent me to the Hall of Wizardry to research a ritual that he was teaching me to perform. One of the librarians, Evangeline I think her name was, started talking to me about how impressive my use of spells was. She let slip that Sam had been jealous of how much better than him I was. She told me that it had caused arguments between Sam and Drew. Sam had believed that Drew favoured me over his own son. She believed that was why Sam had left.

  It was all I could think about for the rest of the day. Needless to say I did not do any research that day. That evening I couldn’t hack it any longer and I had asked my uncle about what Evangeline had told me. He turned my way, his eyes red and puffy, from drinking or crying I wasn’t sure. Maybe both, though I had never then, and still haven’t now, seen my uncle cry. He stared at me in silence for over a minute and in his stare I could see anger. At me or himself, I wasn’t sure.

  Then finally he said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Then he turned away and resumed staring at the wall and I knew right then that it was true. Sam had left because of me. I’d thought we were inseparable. I was wrong. Apparently Sam was just another person who couldn’t bare to be around me any longer.

  I always found it odd that Drew was one of the best investigators I knew and yet he never managed to find his son. Not for five years anyway. He finally found out that Sam was in Hereford and he went straight there. I didn’t want to go with him. I didn’t want to face the person who had decided I wasn’t good enough to be in his life anymore. A small, pathetic part of me hoped that Drew would bring Sam back. That childish part of me who just wanted his cousin back. His brother. The rest of me never wanted to see Sam again. I didn’t want to hear his excuses or worse, hear how much he hated me. I wanted him to stay gone.

  Drew did bring Sam back. Or rather, he brought his ashes back in a box. Sam had got himself into trouble with another wizard. An official duel had ensued and Sam had lost. Spellcraft had never been his strong suit. Because it had been an official wizard’s duel, Sam’s death was deemed legal. Drew had not seen the duel in any event, so he would never have been able to press charges against Sam’s killer. In fact, if he hadn’t have forgotten his wallet and gone back to the hotel he would never have heard about the duel. Luckily he had and he went to see the body fearing that it was his son. He burned the body himself that evening and brought the ashes home the following day.

  He never blamed me for his son’s death but I blamed myself in some small part. If I hadn’t been so good at spellcraft then Sam would never have left. He would still be alive.

  I was forced to relive all of this year after year. Drew insisted that we both come to the grave to pay our respects to the dead. But I didn’t respect Sam. I hated him for leaving me. He’d blamed me for something that was out of my control. Even his death had been a middle finger at me because ever since I’ve had to live with the guilt of being responsible for his demise.

  We stood in silence staring at the neat marble marker for Drew’s son. I listened to the wind whistle around us and I watched the shadow of the spindly tree fall over the headstone like a sinister creature looming above us.

  ‘Let’s get to the Hall then,’ Drew said at last. And finally we left the cemetery. The unpleasantness was done. Until next year.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Hall of Wizardry, more commonly known simply as the Hall, was one of the oldest buildings in Sangford. It was built when the city was little more than a settlement built by the Romans. Wizards had always been a prominent part of the city. Back then they’d governed the place. The Church had tried to supplant them but failed spectacularly. Even when Christianity was at its height in the country, it had barely had any hold in Sangford. There were plenty of Christians in the city, but they were greatly outnumbered. The Hall of Wizardry had stayed on top until Dorian’s arrival. They’d tried to stand against him when he’d risen to power but even they couldn’t stop him and he reduced them to little more than a shadow of their former power. The Hall was now a relic. It served as a training ground for wizards and a place of research. Technically, the Hall was the governing body for wizards across the country, but they didn’t have the power, nor reach to actually enforce their rule outside of Sangford. Even the wizards in the city could disobey them if they got Dorian’s favour. Many wizards went to work for Dorian just to get out of being ruled by the Hall. Other wizards just outright ignored them.

  Over the centuries the building had been expanded upon and the wooden hall that it originally was was now hidden deep within the newer stone walls. The original wooden section was off-limits to all but the highest wizards of the order. I’d never seen it and neither had Drew. The building stood by the river not far from my apartment. City Hall was just down the road. It was made from white bricks that had retained their dazzling whiteness thanks to the help of the building’s magical inhabitants.

  Drew and I climbed the towering steps up to the double doors that were made from a rich, dark wood. Either side of the door stood a statue of a long-bearded wizard, like the typical Merlin image. The statues were the guardians of the hall. Enchanted to stop any unwelcome visitors
from entering. Only wizards were allowed in the Hall of Wizardry, except by invitation from the Prime Wizard.

  Luckily, Drew and I were wizards, even if Drew was unable to convert magic anymore. We passed the statues unimpeded and walked into the marble-floored lobby. The lobby was a towering rotunda with a glass domed ceiling that cast light across the whole room. Many dark wooden doors lined the circular walls around us and a tall reception desk stood in the centre of the room.

  Drew waved a hand at the clerk on reception as we strode past. Being from Sangford we were technically members of the Hall, even if we didn’t attend meetings or take any part in their operations whatsoever. Being members gave us access to most of the building. There were some parts that were restricted to all but senior officials of the Hall. I had no idea what was in those parts of the building and I’d never much cared. It didn’t affect me.

  We passed through one of the lefthand doors and headed down a wood-panelled corridor. We passed a couple of other wizards on our way. Some nodded politely and some ignored us completely. I didn’t mind either way.

  Now, I’m not much of a book fan, some people get all gushy when they see a library or a bookshop, but little bound stacks of paper did nothing for me. However, even I had to appreciate the magnificence of the Hall’s library. It was one of the largest libraries in England. Shelves of books, new and old, towered three floors above us. Rich, dark shelves of wood stretched on for miles in all directions. A large desk very similar to the one in the lobby stood at the front of the library and behind it was a librarian, like a gatekeeper for the dusty tomes behind him.

  Like many old establishments in England, the Hall of Wizardry was fairly antiquated. The staff all wore old-fashioned robes that made then look like they’d walked out of the Middle Ages. Each department and rank had its own colour. The librarians wore emerald green robes.

  I smiled politely to the librarian behind the desk as Drew and I passed him. Drew led me deep into the library right up to the restricted section which was locked away behind an iron gate. Another librarian was sitting at a small desk reading a massive book that looked almost as old as the building. He was scribbling notes on a small pad. It was odd to see him using a biro, considering his attire and surroundings. A quill would have looked more normal.

  ‘We need to go in here,’ Drew told him. No niceties whatsoever. My uncle was a blunt man.

  The librarian, a young man who looked like he was still in school, looked up nervously. ‘Do you have a pass?’ he asked in one of the most timid voices I’d ever heard.

  Drew opened his mouth to argue but then another man came striding down the corridor behind the young librarian.

  ‘It’s quite alright, Tim,’ he said. ‘I’ll let them in.’ He stopped before us. He was much older than Tim, in his sixties at least and his green robes were trimmed with gold. He was the Library Keeper, responsible for the entire library.

  ‘Just in time, Jeremy,’ Drew said giving the Keeper what passed for a smile.

  ‘Andrew, and—’

  ‘Drew is fine,’ my uncle corrected him. Where I hated to have my name shortened, he hated it to be used in its full form. Something that Jeremy knew but he was one of those people that just liked using people’s full names for some reason.

  ‘Drew,’ Jeremy said with an apologetic nod. He turned to me. ‘And you must Jacob. I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager. Haven’t you grown into a handsome young man?’

  ‘Sure have,’ I said awkwardly. It was weird hearing a comment like that from anybody but a very old lady and even they tended to stop saying it when I was in my teens. I had vague memories of Jeremy from my childhood, but I’d blocked out most of my memories of this place. It was dreary and dull.

  ‘I must say, I’m surprised to see you here, Jacob. As I recall you always hated any form of studying when you were younger. Books were like a sleeping draught to you.’ He moved past us and placed his hand on the security gate.

  ‘Every now and then even I need a book,’ I confessed.

  ‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘Drew, I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t ask what you need in the restricted area?’

  Drew glanced down at the young librarian and after a quick look from Jeremy, the boy scarpered. ‘We’re looking for information on Phoenix-Borns.’

  Jeremy’s eyebrows took off up his forehead. ‘A rarity in all corners of the world. If they were an animal they’d be on the endangered species list. They’ve never not been endangered for that matter. Have you looked in the rare creatures section?’

  ‘Yes. There wasn’t much of use in there. I was hoping to find some firsthand experience. I’m particularly interested in how you might kill one. Permanently.’

  ‘Just take it to see my mother. She could kill anything with her negativity,’ he said. That made me chuckle but Drew seemed unmoved by the joke.

  ‘I was thinking the journals might have something useful in them.’

  ‘The journals? Ooh, you’ll be looking for some time. Even with our indexing system. Although…’ He stood tapping his clean-shaven chin as he considered the matter. ‘Yes!’ He placed his hand on the gate and it slinked open allowing us to enter the restricted area. As soon as the three of us were in, the gate clinked back into place

  ‘Come, come,’ Jeremy said hurriedly, striding down the hall and beckoning for us to follow. ‘There have been many wizards who travelled the world, gathering knowledge on the creatures they encountered. Hundreds of them. But the real spectacular ones, the ones who really achieved something, I could count on one hand.’ He brought us to a large square table and ushered us into the chairs before vanishing into the shelves.

  ‘Nobody knows this place better than Jeremy. If the information we need is here he will find it,’ Drew assured me.

  Minutes later Jeremy returned, his arms laden with crusty old books. They weren’t tomes, they were small A5 sized books, thin and with leather jackets. He placed them carefully down on the table before us. ‘Russell Delaney was one of the best magical explorers of the last thousand years. I would wager that he encountered a Phoenix-Born. If not, then I doubt anybody else did.’

  ‘So there’s no record of one ever being in Sangford?’ I asked. Most of the records here were recorded in the city so if one had been here then the chances of finding something would be drastically higher.

  Jeremy shook his head slowly, his jowls moving about as he did. ‘I wouldn’t have thought so. And you should hope not. If there had been you’d have a lot of books to search, you’d need to go right back to the journals of Tristan.’

  Tristan. That name rang a bell. But why? I racked my brain for the answer and it didn’t take long to find it. Jasmine had mistaken me for somebody called Tristan.

  ‘Who’s Tristan? I asked, trying to make my interest appear casual.

  ‘Who’s Tristan?’ Jeremy repeated incredulously. Drew shook his head at me and groaned in embarrassment. ‘Tristan was the first wizard in this country. He was here when Sangford was first built. He created this Hall.’ He stretched his arms out to indicate the building we were in. ‘He founded this order. Everything we have came from him.’

  ‘This is the problem with not paying attention to the books back when you were in school,’ Drew growled at me.

  ‘Your biggest failing,’ Jeremy said to me with despair before leaving us to our studying.

  ‘Bit dramatic,’ I said.

  ‘Yes. And it’s not your biggest failing. Your biggest one is not figuring out how to convert magic from the elements.’

  ‘At least I can convert magic,’ I said with extra snark. Drew was not impressed.

  He fixed me with a dead-eyed stare. ‘Get reading,’ he snapped.

  We both grabbed a book and got to work. It didn’t take long for me to remember why I hated studying. Reading was the definition of boredom for me. Reading reference books was anyway. I didn’t mind the odd bit of fiction but reference books just put me to sleep. It only took a few minutes bef
ore I was reading the words mindlessly, their meaning never breaking through the secure walls of my skull.

  ‘Phoenices!’ I said in surprise, staring down at the word before me.

  ‘What?’ Drew asked, looking up from his own book.

  ‘Turns out the plural for phoenix is phoenices,’ I told him.

  ‘So you’ve found something then?’ Excitement filled his eyes.

  ‘Just that,’ I said with a disappointing shrug.

  ‘That means there’s more. Do you think the author just stopped to mention that? No. You’ve obviously got to a bit about phoenixes.’

  ‘Phoenices,’ I corrected smugly.

  ‘Keep reading, idiot.’

  I did as I was told and sure enough I soon came to something. Russell Delaney had indeed encountered a Phoenix-Born who had caused him quite some bother. My heart went out to old Russell, we were kindred spirits. Like me, he struggled to find a way to kill his troublesome foe.

  I have now attempted several methods of execution for the Phoenix-Born creature. I have tried decapitation, shooting, stabbing, complete dismemberment, burning, drowning, bludgeoning, dropping from a great height (it would seem he can fly), starvation, and even feeding to lions. His remains caught a fire and burned the lions from the inside.

  I have by a happy coincidence discovered that the creature can be contained by lead. I do not know how this is so for as far as I can tell lead holds no magical properties. But, seeing that his fire failed to burn through, or even heat the lead which a compatriot of mine used for a shield, I have constructed a cage made of the substance. Having tricked the Phoenix-Born into entering the cage and thus locking him inside he has thus far been unsuccessful in his attempts to escape.

  I pushed the book towards Drew and waited for him to read the passage.

  ‘Short-term solution,’ he muttered once he’d finished. ‘He could get out. He knows your secret. He dies.’