‘Well, for several hundred years, the Phoenix family ruled this city. They was like royalty, passing down the right to rule from father to son. They was all Fire-Mage’s, of course. It was important for the blood-line to stay pure. The last Phoenix to rule was Walter Phoenix, a foolish man who married very young.’
‘Why was he foolish? What did he do?’ I asked at once.
‘He married an Ice-Mage,’ Gretchen said simply. ‘I remember it, the weddin’, I mean. The whole city was invited.’
‘Elvira Frost?’ I said, pulling a face. ‘A Fire-Mage married an Ice-Mage?’
Gretchen nodded. ‘Not long after the weddin’, Walter Phoenix died under strange circumstances. They had no children, so the power fell into Elvira Frost’s hands.’
‘Couldn’t someone else take over? Brothers? Sisters?’ I asked.
‘They was all too scared of her, weren’t they?’ said Gretchen. ‘As soon as she came to the city as a young girl, everyone noticed a change in the weather. Things gradually got colder, and as soon as she came into power, there wasn’t a single sunny day. She changed the name of the city to suit her, and we was forbidden to talk of the Phoenix family, under threat of imprisonment, or even death.’
‘And no one did anything about it?’ I said in disbelief.
‘As a powerful Ice Mage, Elvira Frost’s strong magic cast a chill across the city. It was rumoured that the intensity of her magic was too strong for her body, and it completely consumed all the good in her,’ said Gretchen.
‘So, the city was in a constant state of winter because no one had the courage to stand up to her?’
‘We was livin’ in fear,’ she said. ‘Besides, only a Fire-Mage could defeat an Ice-Mage.’
‘Well, isn’t it lucky that I happened to come here?’ I said, sarcastically.
‘No coincidence,’ she said. ‘Fire-Mage’s aren’t that common, you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if you was distantly related to the Phoenix’s.’
I scoffed. ‘I think I’d know if I was descendant from-’
‘Would you?’ Gretchen asked with raised eyebrows.
I was about to retort when I considered the possibilities.
I didn’t know much about my mother or father’s families. Hell, I’d never even met any of my grandparents. It wasn’t something we talked about. All I knew was my mother and father had run away together many years ago. It brought up many new questions.
‘It doesn’t matter, anyway,’ I said, waving a hand.
‘Doesn’t it? I reckon the people of Phoenix Arch would like another Fire-Mage to lead them.’
I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You’re joking, right? I’m a wanted criminal-’ I stopped abruptly.
Gretchen shrugged. ‘I reckon you could round up a few followers. Just sayin’.’
This gave me much to think about. Perhaps Frost Arch … no … Phoenix Arch was a safe place for me.
‘I reckon the people would stand behind the Fire-Mage that ended winter,’ said Gretchen.
Chapter Eight
Unwanted Encounter
‘Look, thanks for your help, but I really have to find my friend,’ I said, turning for the door.
Gretchen pursed her hairy upper lip. ‘Last I heard, she was heading back to her hometown.’
‘Her hometown?’ I repeated. ‘Where is that?’
Gretchen shrugged. ‘Beats me. She never talks, does she?’
If only Gretchen knew.
I sighed and grabbed the door-handle. ‘Thanks.’
As disturbed as I was by Gretchen’s words, I decided that it was most important to find somewhere to stay for the night. The last few days had been quite lonesome, and I was beginning to miss Jack quite a bit. I couldn’t help but wonder where he was at this very moment. Would I be safe staying in this city? Of course there would be someone who desired the bounty money more than they desired the old Phoenix Arch.
No. I couldn’t risk it. I was feeling tired and emotional. Too much had happened in the last few days, and I was completely drained. I wanted to relax. Was that too much to ask?
But where? Where was I supposed to go? I’d run out of options, and the only thing I could think of was living rough. I had no money, no food, no shelter, and no one to talk to. The only thing I had was Hawthorne … my silent companion and mode of transport.
I could go anywhere I pleased; perhaps that was the definition of freedom.
I sped along the street, heading back to R?ven’s house, where I knew Hawthorne would be loitering. I was walking so fast that I ran into a tall man; he was so broad that I fell backwards onto my bottom, my hood slipping off.
‘S-sorry,’ I muttered, quickly pulling the hood back over my head and fixing the scarf back into position.
The man held out a hand to help me onto my feet. I took it, without thinking, and was hoisted upward by his strong arm.
‘My apologies,’ he said in a deep, yet gentle, voice.
I avoided eye contact and made to slip around him, intent on getting back to Hawthorne, but the man grabbed me by the shoulders and held me, staring.
‘Get off-’ I began, but I froze when I saw his face. He had shoulder length, dirty blonde hair, a square jaw, and deep-set eyes. I had to stop myself from gasping his name. It was Noah Forsythe.