A Dying Phoenix

By Karyne Norton

Lyric’s quill scratched across his parchment faster than the other mages-in-training, but he was still too slow to keep up with their bestiary professor.

The old man’s robes dragged through phoenix droppings inside the hatchery. He smiled as they reached the nesting trees in the heart of the habitat, where at least a hundred phoenixes sat on their eggs.

“It’s a little-known fact that not all phoenixes are reborn.” Professor Dillbridge clucked his tongue and held out a shaky hand to the bird. His tremors had gotten worse this year, and he’d yet to take on an apprentice. “One in four lacks the attribute for rebirth.”

The phoenix spread her wings, their span matching Lyric’s lanky height. Her feathers flashed ruby and bronze with flecks of pale yellow, like the witch hazel petals they’d ground up in the apothecary. She nudged the professor with her burnished ochre beak.

Lyric stepped closer to the nearest brooding mother, tucking his quill and parchment in his robe pocket. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the phoenix’s scarlet eyes. “Is there a way to tell which ones will return?”

Professor Dillbridge stepped back as the phoenix stirred. “It looks like you’re about to find out. Keep your distance.”

The phoenix nudged the deceptively plain egg. A hairline fracture graced its surface, the shell finally chipping when the tiniest beak broke through.

A chorus of admiration broke out. Professor Dillbridge chuckled as a sticky peach ball emerged, angling blindly toward its mother.

Something in Lyric warmed, like he’d returned from school and his mother’s bread had just come out of the oven. He rubbed at his chest, relishing the strange sensation.

The mother squawked and sat on her baby, startling several of the onlookers.

“Wait for it,” Professor Dillbridge murmured.

Flames shot out from the nest, engulfing both mother and chick. Cries of dismay filled the hatchery before shifting to wonder.

Lyric’s chest turned cold.

Professor Dillbridge stepped closer as the flames died down. “When a phoenix is born, the mother must test if the nestling will be reborn.” He pulled on thick gloves, then dug through the ashes before pulling out a single pale pink chick. But no peach ball.

Only the mother had returned.

“She killed her own baby?” Lyric’s throat grew tight, his voice pained.

“She tested it,” Professor Dillbridge corrected, but his eyes held sadness. “It’s the way of nature.”

He passed the nestling off to a senior student headed for the artificial hatchery when another phoenix roused in her nest.

“Looks like we get to try our hand again.” Professor Dillbridge beckoned them all over.

Lyric lagged behind, his heart heavy.

This time, a fuchsia nestling broke free from its egg, squawking as if it knew its fate. The warmth returned to Lyric’s chest, but this time the heat made him double over. Fire rolled through his torso in waves, and his focus wavered until the phoenix burst into flames.

“Are you all right?” Professor Dillbridge placed a hand under Lyric’s elbow.

The fire in Lyric’s chest dissipated along with the flames in the nest. “Yes, I—I just got dizzy,” he mumbled.

Professor Dillbridge eyed him suspiciously, then retrieved two nestlings from the ashes. The students cheered, but Lyric stayed quiet, his gaze straying to the first empty nest.

“Come,” Professor Dillbridge said. “This next nest holds several eggs, most of them abandoned by mothers forced to go through their rebirth early.”

As the others continued, Lyric stepped up to the first nest, running a finger through the warm ashes. Fluttering heat coursed through him again. The warmth of a single precious life. He soon rejoined the others, his heart no longer in the lesson.

Professor Dillbridge moved aside a brooding phoenix, ignoring her pecking, and revealed six eggs. “Feel how warm they are?”

The students placed palms on eggs. Lyric hesitated, then tentatively let the tips of his fingers graze the hard shell of the one nearest him. The same sense of home flooded him, and he relaxed against the egg. He let his hand graze a second one, but gasped as fire engulfed his chest. He pulled his hand back as though burned. Carefully, he tested the other eggs, feeling for warmth versus fire.

Only the second egg held the heat of infinite lifetimes.

“This is the only phoenix that will be reborn.” Lyric winced as he touched the egg.

Classmates tittered, but Professor Dillbridge’s gaze sharpened as he let the phoenix return to her eggs.

Lyric hesitated. “Can’t you feel it?”

“Class dismissed,” Professor Dillbridge said. “Lyric, stay with me.”

The students whispered and lingered, while Professor Dillbridge led Lyric to a secluded fourth nest where another mother moved aside to let her baby hatch.

“Tell me,” Professor Dillbridge whispered. “Which is it?”

A light amber bird emerged, and Lyric sensed hot chocolate and winter blankets. His heart sank.

Something in him snapped. He bolted forward as the mother phoenix squatted over her baby.

“No!” Lyric ignored his professor’s warnings, reaching beneath the phoenix and fumbling for something soft and fragile. He hissed when the beak pricked his fingertip, but he wrapped his hand around the baby, pulling it to safety as the mother erupted in flames.

Lyric fell back, blocking his eyes and tucking the bird inside his robes.

“What were you thinking?” Professor Dillbridge bent over Lyric, eyes wide as he checked for injuries.

“This one won’t be reborn.” Lyric pulled the tiny nestling out from under his robes. The bird leaned into his hand. “He only has one life to live.”

The professor straightened, face slack.

“He deserves to live it,” Lyric mumbled. Would he receive demerits? Be sent home for his reckless behavior?

Professor Dillbridge’s eyes glistened, his voice harsh. “In sixty years, only four students have had the gift, but you…” His gaze held wonder. “You’re the first to save a dying phoenix.”

He helped Lyric to his feet.

“Come. Today you start training as my apprentice.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Karyne Norton hasn’t found the key to time travel, immortality, or infinite lives, so she’s taking a break from nursing and photography to focus on raising four human beings while writing epic fantasy. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, which is why she’s also the host of the Finding Fantasy Reads podcast, where she reads a new short story every week from a variety of fantasy authors.

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