The Firebird's Vengeance by Sarah Zettel

Author:Sarah Zettel [Zettel, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780765308122
Goodreads: 189164
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2002-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

The Firebird perched in the dead tree. Beneath it, the branch was scorched and blackened and would not hold for long. Its tail hung down behind it, scattering sparks onto the damp forest floor. Under the usual circumstances, a new blaze would have already started, but these were not the usual circumstances.

The Vixen watched the fabulous bird for a while. She noted how it stared at the roofs of the village it had just overflown. She wondered if it was making sure of its work. She saw well how no smoke rose from any of the chimneys, although night was falling and despite it being summer, the air grew chill.

Having seen enough, she trotted from her hiding place to the base of the tree.

“Have you grown tired of smoking ruins then?” she inquired, sitting back on her haunches and blinking up at the Firebird.

“They imprisoned me because they sought the protection of my fire,” it replied. “No hero came to free me, no sorcerer bargained for my release. They all feared the loss of the fire. So I remove it from them now.”

The Vixen cocked her head, looking down at the village. She could hear the frightened whispers, the crying of children already growing cold and hungry. “You could have flown ahead to winter and done this then. It would have all been over much more quickly that way.”

“I do not wish it to be over quickly,” replied the Firebird. “My torment lasted thirty years. My tormentors should have some taste of what that is like.”

The Vixen shook her head and clicked her tongue. “A taste of thirty years but no taste of bread, no soup, and no warmth. Surely a fitting punishment for those who had no idea of your plight.”

The Firebird glowered down at her. “What do you care? Your children have sported in ruins before this.”

“Everyone will keep bringing that up.” The Vixen sighed. “But if all the children of men are dead, with whom will my children play? And who will yours protect?”

She did not wait for the Firebird’s answer, but instead slipped quickly and silently into her own lands.

There was much to do.

The Vixen pulled the Shifting Lands around her like a well-worn cloak and let them settle into shape so that they became green, grassy hills, each topped with a single thorn tree. She herself took on one of her human forms — a woman with pale skin and flame-colored hair dressed in a simple robe of grey fur belted with a braid of fox’s hair. Her green eyes became mere slits as she watched for the Old Witch.

For those with ears to hear, a great rumbling and grinding filled the thin air. The Vixen schooled her face into an angry frown.

“Come here,” she ordered through teeth that were still sharp despite her human shape. “Stand before me.”

And Baba Yaga was there, hunched in her mortar, clutching her stained and battered pestle, her lips pulled back so her black iron teeth showed. She was

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