Page 78 of A Phoenix Reborn at Christmas
The factory.
“Percy!” He heard a yell.
But Percival kept screaming. Smoke choked him. His clothes burned as he fell to the floor in a swirl of fire. But the flames consuming him didn’t hurt. What was hurting him was the stabbing pain, like needles sliding into his skull.
Then abruptly the pain receded.
He lay on the floor. Flames burned his clothes. Fire also burned the floor, a table, and a chair.
I should stop that. Before it gets out of control.
He lifted his hands, closed his eyes, and focused. The fire died away. His hand fell heavily to the floor.
“Percy!”
He opened his eyes. Three people stood over him. They looked vaguely familiar.
“Percy, are you all right?”
Percy? No one calls me Percy.
Percival bolted upright. He looked around the room. He frowned.
This was the bakery. The bakery where he bought his pies from that rude server.
What the fuck am I doing on the floor of this bakery? And why was I on fire?
He glanced at the three people. His eyes narrowed. Now he knew why they looked vaguely familiar. He’d seen them in the back area of the bakery before.
One of them knelt beside him, touching his arm. “Percy, what happened? Are you all right?”
Percival tugged his arm away from the man with a scowl. How dare this stranger touch him! “My name is Lord Percival Everflame. I don’t know why you think it is appropriate for you to touch me or call mePercy!”
The man blinked at him. One of the others gasped.
Percival got to his feet. “What the fuck are you gawping at?” He stared down at his burned clothes. “And what happened here?”
The three stared at him.
“Well! Speak!” he demanded.
The one who’d had the gall to touch him spoke, “You died and were reborn. You’ve been working here in the bakery with us and?—”
“What nonsense! Me, working here?” Percival pulled himself to his full height. That was preposterous. Lord Percival Everflame didn’t work in a dingy bakery like some common baker!
A tall man with shaggy dark hair nodded. “It’s true. You’ve been baking and cleaning and?—”
“No!” Percival shook his head. He worked at Everflame Glass Factory. His uncle was about to put him in charge of the factory.
“It’s true,” the smaller man with glasses said. “We took you in because you lost your memories and had nowhere to go.” The man took a step towards him. He smiled. “Percy, you’ve even been living upstairs with?—”
“My name is Lord Percival Everflame!” he shouted.
The small man jumped back. The tall man with shaggy hair wrapped an arm around him. They all took another step back.
Good. They were being far too familiar!
“Are you telling me you took advantage of me being reborn and losing my memories? Are you telling me you put me to work in your bakery?”
