Phoenix Rising Read online

  Phoenix Rising

  The Elementalists, Book 1

  Ephie & Celia Risho

  Phoenix Rising

  The Elementalists

  Book 1

  Ephie & Celia Risho

  PHOENIX RISING

  The Elementalists, Book 1

  Copyright © 2020 Ephie & Celia Risho.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, except brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information: [email protected].

  Cover Illustration © Stephan Martiniere.

  Developmental Editing/Line Editing: Ann Castro, AnnCastro Studio.

  Inside illustrations, map, phoenix symbol: Olena Bushana.

  Book & cover layout: Ephie Risho.

  Fonts used in book: Desire Pro; Minion Pro.

  Bozeman, Montana

  ISBN (paperback): 978-1-7349741-0-2

  ISBN (hardcover) : 978-1-7349741-2-6

  ISBN (EPUB): 978-1-7349741-1-9

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020908478

  First Edition

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Dedication

  Dedicated to the heroes who don’t know that’s what they are yet. May you find your path.

  1

  Fields on Fire

  THE SMALL PIXIE LAUGHED DEEPLY, a full belly laugh that made Amber wonder how such a small creature could send her voice echoing through the woods.

  “It’s supposed to be like this!” She grinned and twirled the black-and-bright-yellow-striped hat her mother had just knitted. It certainly stood out from the woodland greens and browns around them. Amber shoved it on her head, then brushed a strand of wiry brown hair away from her eyes before stuffing it up under the hat.

  “If I ever see you wear that in the forest, I’ll be shocked.” The pixie’s high squeaky voice matched her smile.

  “Yeah, not very practical. That’s true.” Amber twirled the stubborn strand of hair that fell back out. “So . . . you were going to tell me something important?”

  “Was I?” The pixie flashed a mischievous smile.

  The town bell faintly sounded in the distance. Gong. Gong. Gong. They both quieted. Amber tried to remember if there was an event or other celebration she might have forgotten. The young pixie stared at her with raised eyebrows, and Amber sighed. “I have to go. Be well, Flurry.”

  “You too.” The little pixie darted up into the air as Amber turned and ran toward the town.

  I hope it’s nothing serious, she thought. Maybe it’s just a wedding or something.

  As she approached Seabrook, she picked up the pace, then paused near the first farm to catch her breath. The faint smell of smoke filled the air, and her heart broke. This wasn’t the friendly smoke of a fireplace or backyard firepit. This was the smell of too much burning. Of wheat and other crops, perhaps.

  She dashed to the city center where her friend Ryder was directing everyone who arrived. “The fire is on the Peabody’s field! Hurry, before it spreads! It’s gigantic!”

  She panted with hands on knees and admired the teenager’s leadership. He was about four years older, around sixteen, but so responsible. He’d been the town’s courier since before he was Amber’s age, so he was often far from their small hometown.

  Ryder stood on the third step, next to a life-size statue of a heroic-looking man brandishing a sword. Young and old alike ran from all directions to the statue where Ryder was directing villagers toward the fields on the east side of town. He glanced down at her and pointed to the sea. “Amber! Get to the docks and let the fishermen know, so they can help when they arrive.”

  Amber immediately dashed to the cliffs that overlooked the great sea and the docks. The waves crashed into the rocks below, sending spray into her face. Fifteen small fishing boats splashed through the waves toward her, the men straining at their oars with intense energy. Some of the larger boats had their sails up, tacking back and forth in the slight spring breeze. The loud bell continued to ring out behind her sending chills through her body.

  The boats began arriving, some of the smaller ones were rowed straight up the shoreline and tied to manmade knobs in the rocky cliffs. The larger ships pulled into the docks next to a few other boats.

  “Hurry!” Amber waved and jumped. As the men ran up the stairs, she shouted above the roaring waves, “The Peabody’s fields! They’re on fire!”

  As each boat approached, she shouted and directed them where to go. The men quickly tied their boats and ran toward the burning fields. Some filled buckets with sea water and carefully walked toward the fire. Others just ran to get there as quickly as possible.

  After the last boat landed and the three fishermen went to fill buckets, Amber sprinted toward the rising smoke plumes behind her village. She cut through Old Mr. Crabtree’s barley fields and let out a cry when she felt the heat from the ravaging fire.

  The flames were far more intense than anything she’d ever seen before, and looked like they could easily spread to the village.

  Desperation was in everyone’s eyes.

  Amber’s dad stood, completely covered in ash from head to toe, and pointed across the field. “The water tower!”

  A dozen people ran toward the tower, situated next to two tall coastal redwood trees. Under her dad’s direction, some brought over the largest wagon and a team of horses while two men clambered up to the top, tying thick ropes into rings. The ropes were then thrown up to two other volunteers who’d also climbed the trees. They looped the ropes over thick branches, just above the tower.

  Eight men lifted the wagon so that it was directly in front of the tower while two others stood with axes ready at the front legs. At her dad’s nod, they began chopping at the legs and the tower began to topple.

  “Pull the ropes!” Amber’s dad shouted. The men heaved the ropes, holding up the immense bucket just enough so it didn’t completely tip over and lose all its water. But the bucket was so heavy, they began to slip. More men dashed to grab the ropes, and together they lowered the bucket onto the wagon. The wheels of the wagon creaked and groaned.

  “Quickly! Toward the fire!”

  But the horses struggled under the weight. Four more horses were rounded up and tethered to the other four. Finally, the wagon edged toward the fire, wheels wobbling dangerously.

  Amber’s dad shouted, “Wait! Not yet!”

  Finally, the heat grew so intense that the horses refused to go any further. The men led the horses back, turning the wagon sideways toward the fire before grasping the ropes and heaving on them.

  The bucket teetered, then toppled over, pouring water over the field and dousing the worst of the flames.

  “Now! Shovels!” Men, women, and children ran toward the fire and began digging up dirt and heaving it onto the flames. Someone thrusted a shovel into Amber’s hands, but she looked around desperately. Where should she start? The task seemed daunting. She saw her brothers and sister shoveling dirt onto the fire to her left. She ran over and joined them, straining under the burden before them.

  A flame leaped toward her and she fell back, then gritted her teeth and tossed a shovelful of dirt onto it. It felt like the wheat was screaming in pain.

  The grime on her lips tasted bitter, and her hands blistered from work they weren�
�t used to doing. She felt her arms and back burn from the repetitive motion and desperately wanted a break but knew she couldn’t.

  Smoke filled her eyes, and she tried not to cry. She could hardly breathe, so she lifted her shirt to cover her mouth and nose, which helped a little bit. She wondered if she could keep going but imagined what would happen if the fire approached the town buildings.

  We can’t let it spread! she thought. An extra surge of strength stirred within her. She worked even harder, shoveling, covering flames, spreading the dirt around to cover more, and repeating.

  She and her three siblings worked alongside another five villagers on one little section. Other people were spread out all over the field, working in natural clusters, focused on preventing the fire from spreading to the town. It looked hopeless.

  Amber paused to take a breath and saw Ryder looking around, fresh to the scene with a shovel in his hand—the only person not completely black from ashes and dirt. She waved him over, and he ran to join them.

  “We can do this!” he said, picking up where she’d left off. Amber nodded and took another breath. It may have felt impossible, but what else could they do? She focused on digging again, trying to cover the flames as fast as she could.

  Ryder, it turned out, was more effective at putting out the flames than the others. Nobody—not even Amber—noticed in the frenzy of the fire that Ryder, in between shovels, made sweeping gestures with his hands that stirred the earth, causing it to move, roll over, and completely cover the flames.

  Within a few minutes, what had felt like a daunting task suddenly seemed possible. Their little area was down to the last few flames, small and easy to extinguish. Amber paused and leaned on her shovel for a moment as other villagers covered the last of the flames.

  She and her siblings looked around. The fires still raged on another part of the field, and Shane, Amber’s oldest brother, shouted, “Over there!”

  They ran across the field and started shoveling beside the other townsfolk.

  After what felt like an eternity, the townspeople had put out the worst of the fire in the entire vicinity. They stopped their work, leaning on their shovels and taking stock of the situation.

  With much of the fire doused by the water tank and all the hard work of the villagers, the remaining flames were smaller and more spread out. The people of the village were scattered, from the town all the way to the forest, chasing every fire that could cause trouble.

  Amber took a deep breath. Her entire body was black with ashes and dirt, and her arms ached from constant digging, but she smiled. The fire was under control. They’d done it. The fire had only engulfed one field and not damaged any buildings.

  Shane patted her on the back, sending black ashes flying into the air. “Nice work, buckaroo.” He smiled, a white grin on an entirely blackened face.

  Amber smiled back. “Thanks. You too.”

  “Hey, Ryder!” Amber’s brother Patrick called. “Glad you could join us! It felt like we weren’t going to tackle those flames until you showed up. You were just what we needed to tip the scales.”

  Ryder wiped his wands on his filthy pants, then chuckled when he realized they were even dirtier than before. “You bet. Doing my duty. I’m glad I happened to be here. I wasn’t supposed to be back in town till tomorrow, but something told me to rush back.”

  “We’re glad you made it, for sure.” Kirsten, Amber’s older sister patted his shoulder.

  Amber nodded, too exhausted to talk. She watched the people wearily chasing the last of the fires. Her dad was nearby, leaning on a shovel and looking utterly exhausted. She walked over and gave him a big hug. “We did it.”

  He lightly stroked her tangled hair and smiled. They watched the others for a minute, and then he said thoughtfully, “This wasn’t a normal fire. This was far worse—there’s no way it started by natural means. It was sabotage. I’m certain of it.”

  He gazed into space and stroked his well-trimmed, soot-filled beard for a minute. “It begs the question: who . . . or what . . . on earth started this fire in the first place—and why?”

  2

  Sabotage

  THE GATHERING HALL was packed with people, every seat filled and townsfolk standing in every possible space, shoulder to shoulder. Although it was chilly outside, the doors were wide open to bring some fresh air into the crowded space. Five dogs played near the entrance, waiting for their owners.

  Amber stood in the back behind a crowd who blocked her view of the five people standing on the raised stage. The banging of a wooden gavel pierced the noise from the front of the room, and the great hall quieted.

  “This wasn’t a natural fire,” a man at the front began.

  Amber felt a tug at her shirtsleeve and looked behind her. Thomas, a young curly-headed boy, motioned for her to go outside. Curious, she followed. He pointed toward the edge of the village to a small shape sparkling in the night air. “The pixies want to talk to you. Come on!”

  Amber jogged after Thomas, past a few homes down the dirt road. Two other children joined them. They approached the woods and path they often took to visit the pixies. Flurry hovered at the tree line, looking finely dressed as always, which jarred with the worried expression on her face.

  “Oh good. It’s you, Amber.”

  “What is it? What brings you this close to the village, Flurry? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come this far before.”

  Flurry’s eyes darted back and forth. “Come deeper into the trees first. I don’t like being out here in the open.”

  Amber and the children looked around, then followed the pixie a bit farther into the woods. The forest was dark. Finding the path would have been harder without the slightly glowing pixie darting in front of them. A few minutes in, the pixie relaxed, then turned back to them.

  “We think we’re being attacked.” She flitted about nervously and glanced into the shadows surrounding them.

  Amber felt a chill run down her back. “What do you mean? Who would want to attack pixies?”

  “This fire. It wasn’t natural. Do you know what caused it yet?”

  “No. We’re discussing that right now.”

  Flurry looked serious. “Fires are very dangerous for us. And not just when they happen. If the forest is burned down, we can’t live in it anymore. It’s a big deal. That was a big fire. Like someone started it.”

  “I know. That’s what they were saying. I’ll know more soon.”

  “Hmm.” The pixie frowned. “Fires are dangerous for you, of course. But we think someone’s attacking us. Here’s the thing.” She sighed. “Something’s not right in the woods. I don’t know if we’re going to stay. I’ll tell you more, but not now.” Her eyes darted around. “Listen, after you know more, talk to me, ok?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” Amber nodded somberly. The three younger children next to her were quiet with serious expressions. “I’d better get back to the meeting.”

  “See you tomorrow morning, Amber.” Flurry waved, then fluttered away, disappearing into the dark woods.

  Amber and the children walked back to the gathering hall. As they approached, they could hear the voice of someone sounding rattled. Amber stood outside with the kids and listened.

  “We all have to work together! We can’t be caught unprepared.”

  The townsfolk murmured approval. “We’ll divide up into three groups, with Denison, James, and Douglas leading them. If you’re needed somewhere, we’ll let you know. Now get a good rest, and let’s come back tomorrow ready to get some work done. Meeting dismissed.”

  People began to walk out quietly with serious looks on their faces. Ryder was in a deep conversation with his dad when he saw Amber. “Heya, dreamer.” He went back to talking with his father as they headed toward their small home down the street. She waited till her parents came out with her older siblings, then joined them on their walk back home.

  “What did you talk about?”

  Her mother held her hand. “There’s tal
k that the fire was caused by some sort of creature. Douglas said he saw it—a flying beast—in the area when it began, like a giant red-and-orange flaming eagle the size of four cows. He also said it was headed into town when he shot at it.”

  Amber held her mother’s hand more tightly. “What do you think it is, Dad?”

  He spoke quietly, “Some say it’s the phoenix come back. That does fit the description. But the phoenix from my grandfather’s stories was friendly. It wouldn’t have done something like this—it helped the folks of Seabrook over sixty years ago, if you recall, in the big fight against the trolls.”

  “Could it have been a dragon?” Amber asked.

  “Doesn’t fit the description. But possibly. Maybe a small dragon? One never knows with these things.”

  “I think it was a phoenix,” her brother Patrick said. “I’ve read all the books on magical creatures, and it fits the description perfectly.” As usual, he sounded smug.

  “What do you know?” Shane asked with scorn. “Have you ever seen a phoenix?”

  “No, but I’ve seen pictures and read about them in a number of different books. Unlike some people who don’t read very much.” He glared at his older brother. “Douglas’s description fits the phoenix perfectly.”

  “Boys, this is not a good time to fight.” Her dad placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “We’re all in this together. We have a common enemy, and we need to figure out what it is.”

  They walked in silence for a moment, then Amber asked, “Did you talk about the pixies disappearing? I was just chatting with them today, and they didn’t tell me anything in particular. But they’re definitely sounding worried.”

  “Yes,” Kirsten said. “I mentioned it.” She looked at her brothers. “Because someone has to be useful around here.”