Excerpt of   The Phoenix Warrior

The Beginning

The old man was surrounded by the children of the House of Talon, eagerness and firelight dancing in their eyes.  He had their complete attention.  He had to keep it.  He had to give them the gift of their lore.  The history of his people was slowly dying.

With a sense of urgency he began his tale, his voice rising with an unearthly cadence, hypnotizing his audience, bending their will to his own.  Satisfied with the thrall cast upon the innocents arrayed in front of him, he told the story dearest to their future.

“Serena ran as if her life depended on it.”  The old man paused for effect.  “Because it did.”

He had them, he knew he did.  He pulled the story from deep within his soul and sang the truth.  He knew he sang for the last time.

You children, you all know of our mother, Serena.  You know her as the strength of our people.  But she was not born with strength.  She was not born here on Sirin.  She was born many ages ago, on ancient Earth.

Serena was a girl much like all of you.  She sang when she was happy, with the purest voice.  She worked hard to support her clan—the plemja—learning to be a woman.  When she did not work, she played in the streams and caught fish for her family.  But she was innocent.

When she began to feel like a woman, she saw one of her friends, a boy, in a new light.  She had known this boy all her life, her cousin.  But almost overnight Serena noticed the boy was no longer lanky, but strong.  He was no longer fresh of face, but now had a beard.  He no longer played with her, but looked at her with a new expression she did not understand. 

Her parents began to keep her from running off to the stream, telling her she must begin to act as a woman.  She noticed a plemja elder looking with the same shiny eyes as the boy.  The elder brought her family rich presents. 

The boy went on his first hunt.  When he came back, he boldly proclaimed to her that he was now a man.

In the way of these things, Serena and the boy-who-was-now-a-man began to walk together and fish together in the stream.  The boy-man gently laid her down on the bank and boldly proclaimed her a woman.

Also in the way of such things, Serena soon discovered that she was with child.  She did not understand why her parents became so upset when her belly began to round.  She did not understand when the plemja elder became angry and took away the luxurious furs and food that he had given her family.

She most certainly did not understand why she was now running away from the only home she had ever known.  Banished.  She would no longer see her parents.  She would no longer see the boy-man.

But the Mage caught her.  Of the shadows, the Mage preyed upon those not of the plemja.  She knew of the stories of the lost, never seen again.

She stumbled and tried to catch herself, wrapping her arms around her slightly rounded belly.  She fell to the ground, curling to a ball and landing on her side.  Her head hit a rock, and she could feel the warm blood running into her hair.

The Mage had red eyes that began to glow.  White light blinded Serena as she felt the scorching pain of the light engulfing her.  She felt as if she were on fire.  She could feel her life slipping away.

“Please,” she croaked, reaching out to the Mage.  “My baby.”

No one knows why, but the Mage took pity on her.  Serena had heard stories of his pitiless hunting, never giving quarter.  She had no hope.  He took her life gently, draining her very essence, and then he left her.

But Serena woke with the dawn.

She felt a terrible knowing.  Knowing she was different.  Knowing she had awakened after death.  Knowing that she had not one, but two babies.  Knowing that the second baby was of the Mage.  She grieved for both babes, for they had no home.

In despair she raised her arms to the sun, feeling its heat warm her from her head down to her toes.  She stripped off her furs and stretched to the sun, welcoming it.  She felt the change, the tingling in her skin, the warmth radiating from her belly.  Then she flew.

She flew to the sun.  She danced and sang in welcome.

She said good-bye to the sun and drifted to the nearest star.  She lived this way for an unknown time, in light, seeking energy in the heavens.  When her grief had run its course, she looked for a new home.

She found Sirin.

“Was Serena real?” chirped an eager young boy, leaping to his feet, interrupting the story, dissolving the spell wound tightly around the small group.

“Yes, she was real.”

“How do you know?”

“What is your name, little one?”

Puffing his chest, as if he were ruffling his feathers in the age-old sign of avian dominance, the boy looked around with a grin, stopping when he saw the earnestness in the old man’s face.  His smile fading, he sat back down in deference.  “My name is Piotr.”

“Well, Piotr, I know she’s real, because she is my mother.”

All motion stopped.  Eyes glinting, the children seemed to hold their breath, waiting for more.  He knew the question in their eyes.  A question so incredible that even the bold Piotr would not ask.

“And, I am the son of the Mage.”

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to state the hated truth, the reason for their dwindling numbers.  “And, I am the father to the one who has brought war to our people.  The only war we have ever known in the many hundreds of years of our existence.”

Looking deeply into the eyes of the children around him, he saw the future.  Stopping with the boy Piotr, he noticed that he was taller, lankier than the others.  He was also darker. 

“Piotr, what is your full name?”

“Piotr dom Raven.”

Ah, not a Talon, a Raven.

The Old Man knew he was looking at a warrior in training. 

Will Piotr be the one to kill my only son?

---

Chapter One

The lights flickered.  Captain Anna Corvus felt her feet leave the deck as she lurched for the nearest rail.  Feeling the bump of the gravity systems return, she nearly stumbled when her feet were grounded once again.  Her heart fluttered, but she strangled the fear trying to rise within her.  Before she could check her system display, the ship rocked again, almost toppling her to the floor.

Clutching the console in front of her captain’s chair, she quickly sat in the bucket seat, fighting to stay down as the ship began to shake.  The lights continued to flicker.  The alarms began to sound.  She needed to do two things quickly: buckle her harness, and find out …

“What the hell is going on?”