Gathering Ashes Chapter 21

“You know, I really need to stop doing this kind of thing,” Eva said as she peered down the dark stairwell. Cars hummed on the street behind her. “How many times can I follow strange animals into the unknown before I get myself killed?”

The crow on her shoulder clucked its tongue. Eva pulled out her phone and waved it at the bird, her finger hovering over the “send” button.

“Remember, one wrong move and I bring a vengeful angel down on your tail feathers,” she said.

“Ha!”

Sighing, she plunged into darkness. Her phone provided little light, but it was enough to stop her from stumbling down the stairs. She paused when they reached solid ground, squinting. Blackness loomed around her.

“Kind of dark,” she admitted in a small voice.

Cocking its head as if it had not considered this problem, the crow whistled. Golden lights lit a stone hallway. The crow eagerly hopped ahead of her, leading her deep into a maze of halls and doors. The architecture was somewhat eclectic, transitioning from stone bricks to plaster and back again. Sometimes torches lit their way with a golden glow. Other times, light bulbs did the job. At one point something flashed past Eva and she jerked away, catching a glimpse of a grey rabbit disappearing behind a door. She peered into the room. A large brown bear stared back at her, the rabbit on its head. It licked its nose.

Eva almost stepped on the crow in her rush to catch up.

“You’re here.”

Eva jerked to a halt. Two amber eyes glowered at her from a dim hallway. Golden light shone faintly on white, gray-dusted fur. The hallway seemed to shrink around Eva as she stared, frozen. At last the crow broke the gloom by chirping happily and landing on the wolf’s shoulder. It rubbed its chin on the wolf’s neck.

The wolf sat. When it spoke again, its voice was rough but not hostile. “To be honest, I didn’t think you would. Told Li it was a bad idea. Guess I was wrong.”

Eva bit her lip. She could feel her heart beat in her throat. When the crow whistled into the wolf’s ear, the canine growled.

“Good,” it said. “She should be nervous, what with her partner causing so much—”

“S-she’s not my—” Eva cut off when the animals turned to look at her.

“Whatever she is, you two work together. You’re the only one we know who might be able to calm her down.” The wolf stalked past her, glancing back with burning amber eyes. “Knock when you’re done. Then we’ll talk.”

Eva stood frozen until it turned the corner. She hesitantly pressed her hand against the door the wolf had stood in front of. It felt warm. Swallowing, she entered into a wave of heat. Too-bright fire flickered along the walls. The carpet smoldered. A bed in the corner suggested that this room had once been a bedroom, but now it was a furnace. The far end of the room was a maelstrom of fire and ashes. A being of light and flames paced in its heart. Rage, confusion, and hurt roared from the being and bore into Eva as much as the heat. The only things that kept the room together were the flickering golden runes along the wall.

Eva found that she was not afraid. Only sad. The overflow of emotions in the room seemed to push out everything but pity.

“Ambrosia,” she said.

The creature whirled around and roared. A rush of heat and rage slammed into Eva like an ocean wave. Light blinded her as fire leapt through the air. She felt pressure in her chest, in her throat, in her bones. Ambrosia roared again. Flames poured from her fur. The air around her warped with heat.

Eva stepped forward. Embers licked at her heels. She felt as if she were approaching a volcano finally bursting, releasing its tumultuous power after eons of pressure. She felt as foolish as anyone approaching an eruption.

“Ambrosia,” she said again, as if that name might bring the creature before her back to Earth.

The fires flickered uncertainly. Eva took another step forward, and then another. She approached slowly through the choking heat. Ambrosia snarled, but did not move away. The fiery beast allowed the girl to walk through the flames and crouch before her. Smoke clouded Eva’s glasses. She pulled them off.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” she told the center of the storm. “It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be lonely.”

She reached out her hand. Fire licked at her fingers, angry and uncertain.

“It’s okay to hurt.”

Teeth sank into her hand. She yelped, yanking her hand back, and stared at the injured limb. The bite hardly broke the skin. She remembered a rainy night weeks ago, the yellow light of the gymnasium glimmering against the bleachers; she remembered a pair of pig demons and a little wet dog with sharp teeth.

“You bit harder when we first met,” she said somewhat absently.

Flames receded around them. Ambrosia’s legs buckled beneath her as her fur shifted from roaring flames to simple white-and-brown fur. She let Eva catch her and pull her into her lap. Her fur was still hot.

“I’m tired,” Ambrosia croaked, and finally allowed herself to rest.






For the first time in almost a year, Ambrosia awoke to the touch of another human. She felt something moving gingerly along her back, rhythmic and warm. It lulled her like the soothing crackle of fire. She almost wanted to drift back to sleep.

“Stop petting me,” she grumbled.

The sensation immediately stopped, accompanied by squeaked apology. She started to stretch, only to stop immediately as pain shot through her body.

“C-careful,” Eva said, laying a hand on her shoulders to keep her down. “You’ve got a nasty bite—where did this even come from? A-and why are you even here in the first place?”

Back to stuttering again. She peered around. Eva sat cross-legged next to her, one leg pressed into Ambrosia’s side. She didn’t want to look at her own back, knowing that it was matted with blood from the wolf’s bite. A worried face appeared in her vision.

“Ambrosia?”

“I heard you, I heard you.”

She gave the girl a brief description of how she had ended up here, resting her tired head on her paws. She ached in places she didn’t know existed. This was not exactly an unknown phenomenon in her life, but at least her head felt clearer. Eva seemed to have that effect.

Eva. The wizard squeezed her eyes shut. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Why not?”

“You could have gotten killed. You could still get killed.”

A pause. Eva spoke slowly, as one prods a loose tooth. “I’m not your apprentice anymore. You don’t have to care about what happens to me. I thought you didn’t care in the first place.”

“I don’t care. I’m not supposed to care.” Ambrosia stayed quiet for a long moment. A strange kind of relief tugged at her heart, lulling her. She closed her eyes and said, not quite sure what magic pulled the words from her throat, “I never knew how they met—my parents, I mean. My father was a bounty hunter at the time. I don’t think he ever did anything else. He grew up as a wizard, spent his life among magic. My mom didn’t. They knew each other for a few years, dating on and off, until my father made what he called the greatest mistake of his life. He introduced her to magic.”

Ambrosia paused, but Eva stayed silent and watched her with intense, attentive eyes.

“She died when I was young. Some naga gang cornered her on her way home. They wanted revenge. But my mom never did anything—that’s the funny part. My dad had taken down their leader a few weeks back. They found out, hunted him down, and killed his wife. Simple as that. My mom was just a means to them, something to get them a bit of intangible satisfaction that lasted until my father slaughtered them all after weeks of searching.”

“I’m sorry,” Eva whispered.

“You get it now, don’t you? The magical world is a dangerous place. My mom only had to marry a wizard to put her head on a stake. It was selfish of my father to pull her into that. And it was selfish of me to pull you into this.” She buried her head in her arms. “And now you’re here, trapped underground with a wolf at the door, and you’re going to get killed because of me.”

Eva shifted beside her. When Ambrosia glanced up, she realized that Eva was wiping her eyes.

“No wonder you didn’t want much to do with me,” Eva said, her voice still choked with tears. She cleared her throat. “But really, you don’t have to worry about repeating all that with us.”

“And why not?”

“I’m sorry Ambrosia, but you’re not my type.”

A pause. The wizard burst into laughter. Her lungs burned and her muscles twinged with pain as humor racked her body, but she couldn’t stop. Weeks of stress, pain, and exhaustion had made her feel mildly hysteric. When she finally managed to settle into painful giggles, Eva watched her in a mixture of amusement and concern.

“I understand, though,” the girl said. “But you have to remember that you’re not the only factor here. You may have brought me into this world, but I’m the one who chose to stay. Your mother did as well. At any time she could have left, I’m sure, but she stayed. Maybe it was because she loved the magic world or because she loved your dad, but she stayed. She may have died and it may have hurt, but it was all her choice. She wanted to make memories, and a family, and maybe a million other things. It killed her in the end, but isn’t it worth it that she got to live?”

“Maybe she would have regretted it, if she had known.”

“Maybe, but maybe not. I know it’s hard to watch people make choices that you don’t agree with, but you have to let people live their own lives.” She paused, a smile flashing across her face. “I know it may not mean anything to you, but I’m glad I followed you that night. I’m glad you showed me this world.”

“But you’re scared. You’ve said it yourself. You’re terrified of the things that go bump in the night.”

“True,” Eva said, “but I got to meet all of you.”

Ambrosia snorted. “Sap.”

A grin spread across Eva’s face. “Come on, there’s a wolf who wants to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Of course not. You’d rather run in and bite people on the leg, and then maybe set things on fire.”

Ambrosia shot her a glare. Eva looked away, but kept talking.

“But you’re going to talk, because the only other option is to sit here until these people finally get tired of you and—I don’t know what they’ll do. Please, Ambrosia? I want to leave too. Just—just try.”

This time Ambrosia looked away. Even if she thought that fighting would get her out of this mess, she was in no condition to run around with fire in her throat. She hadn’t been the first time either, but Eva’s presence cleared her mind and she could now feel her own injuries and fatigue. Besides, she owed it to the girl to get them both out in one piece.

“Fine,” she growled. “But don’t tell Ralf. He’ll think I’m going soft.”

Grinning, Eva got to her feet and knocked on the door. It immediately swung open with a flash of golden runes. The wolf stood in the hallway, turning to them when they cautiously stepped out. It obviously hadn’t touched the door. A show of power, Ambrosia assumed; the wolf controlled their environment, so they had better behave. Ambrosia curled back her lip. The wolf barely looked at her before turning, stiff-tailed, and stalked down the hallway. Eva followed with reluctance, Ambrosia at her heels.

The wolf led them to a clean white room. Small bottles and boxes covered the counters and shelves that lined one wall. A woman stood at an examination table, her back to them, as she pulled strips of gauze from a box. She looked to be in her twenties, as far as Ambrosia could tell, with black hair cropped even shorter than Eva’s and tipped with hot pink. She turned to grin at them as they entered. Ambrosia couldn’t tell if the expression was genuine; despite the florescent lights, dark sunglasses hid the woman’s eyes.

The wolf jerked its head to the couch against the wall. “Sit.”

Ambrosia opened her mouth to refuse on general principle, but Eva moved towards the couch.

The woman spoke before Ambrosia could follow. “Why don’t you come over here, little bounty hunter? I can fix you right up.”

She patted the table. A built-in stepladder on its side suggested that the table was used to smaller occupants. Though Ambrosia’s wounds twinged in pain, she merely growled.

“Don’t worry,” the woman said cheerily. “I won’t hurt you. I’m the medic around these parts.”

Ambrosia stayed put. She looked to Eva, who was staring at the woman in puzzlement.

“I-I can’t read her,” the girl said in a startled whisper.

The woman held out her hand, grinning even wider. “Come here, Eva.”

“Don’t,” Ambrosia growled, but Eva reluctantly moved forward and touched the woman’s hand. Her eyes widened.

“Sh-she’s telling the truth. She won’t hurt you.”

With considerable reluctance, Ambrosia climbed onto the table. She did not trust this strange woman or the white wolf, but for some inexplicable reason she trusted Eva. Perhaps she was simply too tired to fight any longer. She stiffened as fingers brushed almost imperceptibly against her fur, followed by a damp cloth that gently dabbed at the dried blood.

The wolf paced along the center of the room, separating Eva and Ambrosia like a wall. Another reminder of who was in charge. At last it spoke, staring at the wall rather than its audience.

“Why did you come here?”

Ambrosia snarled. “That’s all you have to say? You trap us in here—”

The wolf whirled towards her. “You came here of your own accord—”

“—stalk us for weeks—”

“—can’t just act like you have—”

“—if you really wanted to talk—”

“—owe us more than this—”

“—just a bunch of mysterious, idiotic beasts!”

They stared at each other, stiff-legged and glaring, growling at each other like dogs at the ends of their chains. A heavy, primal atmosphere had taken over the room, speaking of eons of animals staring each other down from across a clearing, ready to pounce if their opponent gave a single sign of attack. It spoke of armies with guns ready, of protestors about to launch.

The short-haired woman said in the voice of a sweet-tempered diplomat, “Perhaps we should introduce ourselves.”

Ambrosia had almost forgotten she was there. She would have ignored the distraction entirely had Eva not added in a nervous tone, “I-I think you already know who we are.”

“Quite right! I knew you were smart, eh? But I think we should introduce ourselves, at least. For diplomacy’s sake! Right?”

This last word was clearly directed at the wolf, who reluctantly broke eye-contact with Ambrosia to look at the woman.

“You promised,” the woman said, still grinning.

“I—”

“You promised you would try.”

Eva stared at Ambrosia, silently reminding her that she, too, had promised. The bounty hunter forced herself to sit, thumping her tail to ease her tension.

The woman tilted her head towards Eva and said in an exasperated tone, “Does yours act like this too?”

The girl smiled, though it was a tad forced. Nevertheless, this eased the tension enough for the wolf to sigh and say, “Fine. We’ll introduce ourselves and act all goody-goody, if that will please you.”

The woman nodded graciously, still smiling.

“My name is Huyana Dukwibal,” the wolf said, stepping forward.

And was no longer a wolf.

Before them stood a tall, muscular woman with fierce brown eyes and a broad, regal nose. A loose tee-shirt showed off muscled arms that bulged beneath tan skin. Thick, serious brows added to her imposing figure. A necklace of feathers, fur, and teeth pressed against her throat.

“And I,” Huyana said, “am the leader of the Order of the Rising Sun. Welcome to our home.”