By Rachel Dib
I glanced between the “phoenix” chick perched on the countertop and the shopkeeper attempting to sell me said chick. I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure this is a phoenix?”
He smiled broadly, his teeth blindingly white. “Of course.”
“Then why is he blue?”
The shopkeeper’s eyes glimmered. “He’s special.”
I studied the cerulean chick; his downy feathers puffed in contentment. Head tilted, he peered up at me with bright black eyes. I imagined him perched on the shoulder of my military-issued flight leathers. Special or not, the phoenix would make me stand out—not something I needed.
“Usually, special items are more expensive,” I pointed out. “This chick is priced below the current rate.”
The shopkeeper’s grin faltered. “He’s not that kind of special.”
I lifted a brow.
He scooped up the tiny creature and cradled it in his hands. “Nectar was pushed from the nest; hence why I was able to acquisition him so quickly.”
“He’s a loner?” A pang of sympathy twinged in my chest.
“Abandoned, yes.” He thrust the bird at me.
I reflexively held out my hands. The chick landed between my palms. I lifted his warm, plump body closer. He stretched out his neck and nibbled my nose. “Did you call him Nectar? I thought the buyer chose the name.”
“The breeder named him,” the shopkeeper explained. “You could try to change it.”
“How successful would I be?” I asked.
“Not very.”
I’d expected as much. From my research, once named, phoenixes internalize the moniker, making it a part of their essence. That’s why owners endowed strong names like Victor or Justice. “Why Nectar?”
The shopkeeper scratched his neck. “It’s his favorite food.”
My brow furrowed. “Phoenixes don’t eat—”
He waved a hand. “After being rejected by his own kind, a charm of hummingbirds adopted him. He learned how to harvest it.”
“Interesting.” I set the chick down on the counter. Was I imagining the sudden doleful look in his eyes? “Actually, I think I’m going to—”
“He comes with the first flame guarantee,” the shopkeeper interjected. “If it doesn’t cremate, you get a rebate!”
“Do you mean refund. Rebates are—”
“Refund doesn’t rhyme.” He scooped the chick up and presented him to me. “See how you like him. If he doesn’t burst into flames, return him.”
***
I stared out over the airfield. Despite being high noon, a platoon of black dirigibles, marked with the city’s trademark phoenix, blocked the sun. I marveled at how so few ropes kept the airships from floating away.
“What are you doing here, Darringer?” a snide voice rang out.
I spun around to see Cody Guantlet striding toward me. Goldie and Kal Pimblet trailed after him. All had a little orange fluffball perched on their shoulder, and all were dressed in the burnt orange flight leathers associated with the Phoenix Brigade’s new recruits—the brigade I now hoped to join.
Despite Cody and her brother’s open contempt, Goldie passed me a small smile. My cheeks warmed, and I felt a flutter in my chest.
“Commander Lauft told you not to come back,” Cody sneered. “Yet here you are, a little lost puppy, lapping at his heels. Are you that starved for attention, Darringer?”
Lifting my head, I presented Nectar. “He said not to come back without a phoenix. I bought one. I’m taking him to Commander Lauft now.”
Cody snorted. He flung his hand up to his shoulder, practically sweeping the feet out from underneath his phoenix. The bird released a high-pitched chirp but quickly balanced itself on Cody’s finger. “Since you’ve apparently never seen a phoenix before, this is what one looks like.”
Hearing Kal snicker, I glanced over to see he, too, had retrieved his chick. Goldie averted her gaze, cheeks flushed, as the two held up their phoenixes on either side of mine.
Nectar glanced between the two birds and fluffed his feathers. Cody’s chick dropped his head in a threatening posture, and Kal’s chick hissed.
Cody guffawed. “Rejection!” He and Kal turned away. “Stop embarrassing yourself, Darringer. Go home.”
“I think he’s cute,” Goldie murmured before following suit.
I watched the trio saunter away, then flicked my gaze back to the dirigibles. My father had been an airship captain who’d died in war. While I knew my eyesight prevented me from following in his footsteps, I’d hoped to join the Phoenix Brigade, training birds to be signal flares.
Nectar nibbled my thumb. I scratched his head. “What does Cody know?”
He chirped as if in agreement. Sighing, I strode toward the commander’s tent.
I expected to have to plead my case before gaining access to Commander Lauft, but no. His lieutenant took one look at Nectar and lifted the tent flap. “Sir?”
“What is it?” Seeing me, the commander scowled—and then he saw Nectar. He popped up from his chair. “Darringer, where did you get that?”
I snapped to attention. “I bought him, Sir. I wish to join the Phoenix Brigade.”
The commander motioned me closer, his lips curled in an almost smile. He held his hand up to my shoulder and Nectar stepped onto it. “Aren’t you a beauty. Isn’t he a beauty, Scamall?”
The lieutenant gave a sharp nodded. “He is, Sir.”
Commander Lauft held Nectar up. “Darringer, do you know what you’ve brought me? A beacon. Blue phoenixes are the hottest burning birds in existence. Their flame can be seen for miles. Their mothers abandon them, so they’re nigh impossible to find.” He placed Nectar back on my shoulder. “Corporal, you’ve just made my day.”
At the word “corporal,” glee sparked inside me—until the commander asked, “What’s his name?”
I flinched and cleared my throat. “Nectar, Sir.”
“Nectar?”
“He was raised by hummingbirds, Sir.”
The commander’s eye twitched. “Scamall, take Corporal Darringer and Nectar to in-processing.”
Holding back a grin, I followed the lieutenant. “Did you hear that, Nectar?” I whispered. “You are that kind of special.”
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Fun story! Nectar sounds adorable.
Thank you 😊 I’m glad you enjoyed the story!
I love it! I need more! Of Course Nectar is special.
We’ll see if Nectar appears again 😉 Glad you enjoyed the story!
“Refund doesn’t rhyme.” I used to work in marketing–I love this line.
Lol the shopkeeper was fun to write. Thank you for reading!