Corvina Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Corvina had the rite, but she had no map. The black phoenix nested somewhere in the forest near Quietmoss. That was all the skull would say. She could not search blind. Sable rode on her shoulder now, and his breath came slow and wet. His eyes had gone grey. Each day cost him. She needed to know where the bird burned, and she needed to know soon. So she went to the library on the edge of town. People said the young man who worked there read secrets out of books. The forest folk crossed the road to avoid him. Corvina pushed the heavy door open. Lamplight spilled across tall shelves crammed with old, cracked spines. Arthur Dust stood between two shelves, one glove off, his bare palm flat on a book's cover. He did not look up. "You came in without knocking," he said. "Most people knock." "Most people are afraid of you," Corvina said. "I don't have time to be." He turned. His eyes moved from her face to the crow on her shoulder. "He's dying." "I know what he is." Her voice stayed flat. She would not let it crack in front of a stranger. "I need to find a bird. Black feathers, green along the edges. It nests in your forest. Where?" Arthur studied her for a long moment. Then he pulled a slim guide from the lowest shelf. A field guide to local fungi. Its spine was warm, she saw, though no fire burned near it. "Three nights ago something moved through the trees," he said. "No tracks. The books by the window smelled like burnt hair after. This one was hot to the touch." He opened it. A page near the back was scorched brown at the corner. "It read this page. I felt it. Fear. It was looking for a stream deep under the north slope." "Why does a bird read about mushrooms?" "It wasn't the bird." He set the guide down. "But the bird nests where that stream opens. Under the north slope, past the dead pines. The heat came from there." Corvina's chest tightened. The binding was already working inside her, slow and cruel, a fist closing around her ribs. She pressed a hand to it and breathed through the pain. "North slope. Dead pines. You're sure." "I read what the pages hold. The pages don't lie." He pulled his glove back on. "But witch. Whatever walked through my forest read the same page you want to walk toward. It got there first." Corvina looked down at Sable. His beak opened, but no sound came. She had her direction now. She finally knew where to go. And something else knew too. Something that left no tracks and burned the books it touched. She was no longer the only thing hunting the black phoenix.