Page 5 of A Phoenix Reborn at Christmas
Now only a few crumbs remained. He licked his fingers, staring at the crumbs on his desk, wishing they were another pie.
I should have bought a second.
He was stumped that this glorious creation had been created inthatbakery. It appeared that bad service did not mean bad food.
He let out a breath. Because if he wanted more of those pies, he’d have to go back. Which meant he’d have to see that baker again. He wrinkled his nose.
He stood and tidied up his desk, still mourning the fact he’d only ordered one pie.
A flutter of black at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head. Outside his window, a clump of feathers writhed on the windowsill.
A grey shadow hung over it. Percival knew what the grey shadow meant. The bird had been injured. Phoenixes could see a person’s illnesses and injuries in the air around them.
He stepped towards the window and identified the injured bird as a raven. Blood matted its feathers, some of which were missing, revealing skin and more blood.
A fox or cat attack, perhaps. Or maybe some cruel child.
It convulsed. For now, the raven lived.
But an injured raven outside in winter wouldn’t survive long. Even if its wounds didn’t kill it, the cold and snow would. Already snow fell from the sky and gathered on the raven’s black feathers. He couldn’t tell if it was shivering from pain or the cold.
Percival looked away from the disgusting sight. His throat tightened.
No point in helping it.Birds died all the time. Every day many of them died in Anorra, and no one cared or noticed their death.
He took a step away. Then hesitated.
Why should I care about this bird? It doesn’t mean anything to me. Its life or death has no impact on me!
And it was the bird’s own fault for not being strong enough to survive. It was just a weak, useless bird. Probably better off dead.
Percival swallowed. He should get back to work.
Still, Percival didn’t move.
His hands clenched as a voice and memories from his past rose and circled in his head.
“Why the fuck are you shaking? Are you scared? Why are you scared? What is wrong with you?” A hand gripped Percival’s arm. “You need to be tough! You need to be strong! That’s the only way you’ll ever survive.”
Percival’s hands shook. He glanced back. Outside, the raven trembled, feathers ruffling. He stepped closer. He could see the raven’s face now.
And he could still hear that voice.“I may as well throw you out on the streets and leave you to starve and die alone. How long do you think you’ll survive out there in the snow? I’d be surprised if you managed a week. After all, you’re just a weak, useless phoenix! You’ll end up dead, never to be reborn, just like your pathetic parents!”
The raven’s black beak opened. It croaked weakly. It could only just be heard through the glass windows.
“They abandoned you when they died. Why the fuck shouldn’t I abandon you now?”
The raven croaked again as if begging for help.
It doesn’t want to die. It doesn’t want to die alone in the snow.
Without thinking, Percival stepped forward. He undid the latch and yanked the window up. He took a breath and closed his eyes, letting his darkest memories rise. His breath stuttered in his chest. His heart clenched. A tear slid down his cheek. He lifted his fingers and gathered the wetness.
The raven softly croaked.
Percival opened his eyes and reached out to the dying raven on the window ledge. He pressed his fingers to the raven’s forehead, to the cold mess of feathers. The raven stilled. It made no more sounds. It didn’t flutter.
Then all around the raven, the air began to glow. There was a flash of warmth and light.
