Firebird (50 page)

So high
.  She felt the trembling begin, deep in the core of her bones.

Shadows began to take shape against the snow-filled sky.  Turrets, a tower, tall chimneys, a low railing.  She blinked, trying to focus, willing the dizziness away.  Far below her, high frosted pines swayed toward the house.  From somewhere far off she heard sirens.  Then movement, to the left, and she saw her niece, some ten feet away, crouching low, inching forward.

“Juliet!” she shouted.  “Be careful...”

“I’m going to get help,” cried the girl.

A terrible crash from the room behind her.  She swung around.  A fallen timber, cracking through the loft door.  Smoke spun toward her in huge suffocating clouds.  Fountains of flame, red and fierce, billowed high into the air.  Terror rose like flood water in her body.

She stood frozen, encased in stone, caught between the fire and the high, ice-coated roof.

I’m afraid!  I can’t go out there.

She jammed a hand into her pocket, closed her fingers around the red feather Eve had left for her in Maine.  The Firebird’s feather, promising protection. 

Help me, Eve
.

A sharp scream pierced the night, echoing across the rooftop.  The thud of a body falling, sliding sickeningly down the snow-covered shingles.

NoGodplease
. 
Not again
.  “Jules!” 

Moving black shadows, a sob. A shaft of firelight striking the roof.  Alexandra’s blood turned to ice.

There.  On the far side of the roof.  Juliet’s arms were locked around a narrow chimney base.  Her feet were dangling over the black void.

“Hold on!” screamed Alexandra.

Go with your heart
.

She thrust her leg over the window sill. 

Memory stabbed her.  She was seventeen, standing by the attic window at Cliff House.  Her sister Eve was somewhere out in the darkness, on the high steep roof, crying for help.

Black flapping wings, beating in the darkness, filling the night with terror
.
So high.

Dear God in Heaven.  You know what you have to do.  Just
do
it, damn you!  For Eve.  For Juliet.

Clinging to the window ledge, she closed her eyes, willing herself not to be afraid.

One step at a time
.

Garcia’s voice.  Telling her of Jimmy Stewart in
Vertigo
.  One step at a time.  Okay.  Just don’t blow it this time.

Alexandra thrust her head and shoulders out the window and took a deep breath of the cold night air.  The roof glittered before her like a sheer black glacier.  And once again, as she had at Cliff House so many years ago, she climbed out onto a high steep roof.

CHAPTER 53

“The burning roof and tower...”

W. B. Yeats

Alexandra fell to her knees on the treacherous roof.  The night smelled like pines and smoke.  She inched forward into a nightmare of wind and ice and bitter cold.  The ice beneath her glowed dull red, reflecting the flames that glimmered from the loft window.

The sound of her heart pounding in her ears, and sirens, somewhere far below the rooftop.  A car door slamming, a muted shout.

Thank God the drug seemed to be wearing off.  “Just don’t look down,” she muttered, pushing her body forward through the stinging sleet.

Then a roar, a shower of jagged red sparks as the window behind her exploded.  A rush of intense heat as flames shot out from the loft bedroom, rolling toward her in red waves and spiraling high into the snow-filled night.

JesusGod!  She lunged away.  

Juliet screamed.  “Aunt Zan!”

Ash and snow swirled, spun in a thick black storm, choking, blinding her.  God, where was Juliet?  There!  By the chimney.  She could see the blue clad arms wrapped tightly around the bricks. 

“I’m coming, Jules.  Hang on!”

She slid across the icy shingles.  Another foot.

“Aunt Zan, I can’t hold on much longer...”

She scraped her knees forward through the snow, fingers digging into the glittering skin of ice.  The snow beneath the ice was deep and soft, offering purchase.  A chunk of ice dislodged and slid down, down, clattering faster and faster, only to drop into the void.

Juliet’s hand, reaching out through the darkness.

“Hold on!” gasped Alexandra, as their fingers touched.

“Don’t let go, Aunt Zan!”

She grasped the girl’s wrist.  Held.  “I let you go once,” she cried.  “I’m never going to let go of you again!”

Somehow she wedged her body against the chimney.  Muscles burning, knees locked, she fought with all her strength to pull her niece away from the black void.

Inch by inch.  Gold flames reflected in Juliet’s wide shocked eyes.

Fight
! 
Hold on
!

Inch by inch.

And then she pulled her sister’s child into her arms.

“Seriously, that was close,” whispered Juliet against her ear.

“You’re welcome,” murmured Alexandra.

A crash of shattering glass.  Now sparks were spiraling, blowing across the roof, glowing and red-hot.   “We’ve got to move, Jules.  Now!”

“Alexandra!”  The deep shout came from somewhere below them.  Holding tightly to the chimney, Alexandra peered over the edge.

A flashlight beam, a man standing on the flat roof of the carriage house.  “Alexandra!  Let me help you!”

Ivan
.

“We’re here!”

“The fire is closing in on you.  You’ve got to jump!   Hurry, I’ll catch you!”

The roof crackled with the sound of spitting ice.

She grabbed Juliet’s shoulders.  “You first.  Leap across.  He was a dancer, once.  He’ll catch you.” 

“No!  I can’t. You know I can’t!”

“You
can
, Jules.”

“No, no.”  The girl was shaking her head wildly back and forth.  “You saw me fall at Juilliard!  I can’t make those leaps!  Don’t make me go -”

Her sister’s child, finally wanting to stay with her.  But for all the wrong reasons
.

Smoke and heat were washing over them in waves.  Juliet’s terrified face shimmered amber in the firelight.  Alexandra scooped up a handful of snow, rubbed it over Juliet’s skin.  Without conscious thought she tore the red feather from her pocket, shoved it into the girl’s jacket.  “You listen to me, Juliet Marik.  You’re going to make that jump.  Your mother’s with you, watching over you. 
I believe in you, Jules
!”

Heart in mouth, she was shifting her niece toward the roof’s ledge.

“I’ll fall!”

“I lost Eve, dammit, I won’t lose you, too!  You have courage, Jules.  Just like your mother.”

Juliet’s eyes were riveted on the black void.  “What about you?”

“I’ll hold you until you’re ready,” whispered Alexandra, grasping her belt.  “Then I’ll find a way to follow you.” 
Somehow
.

“Promise?”

Oh, Jesus God  “I promise.”  She reached out, touched the orange hair with a fierce tenderness, then slipped her woolen cap from her pocket and pulled it down over the girl’s head.

Juliet stared at her for one long moment, the sky behind her glowing red.  A cloud of dark smoke swirled toward them.

“Go
now
!” shouted Alexandra.  “
You can do this
!  Ivan will catch you.”  And then, very softly, “I love you.”

Slowly, carefully, the young ballerina raised herself to her hands and knees.  Then, in one swift motion, she stood, opened her arms, took two running steps over the ice and leaped out into space.

And Alexandra watched in awe as her sister’s daughter took flight across the chasm, like a Firebird silhouetted against the flaming night, and landed in the arms of the Prince.

* * * *

More shouts down below, black billows of choking, scorching smoke.

Now it was her turn. 

One by one she unlocked her fingers from the chimney edge and peered over the edge.

Thank you, God
.

She could see Juliet, safe on the carriage house roof, and the flashing lights of approaching fire engines.

Ivan staring up at her, holding out his arms. 

“You’ve got to trust me, Alexandra!”

She inched forward.

Frantic black wings, beating around her head.  Just like that night at Cliff House so long ago…

“I can’t,” she cried out to him with a sob.  “I’ll fall!  Just keep Juliet safe -”

Ivan waved his arms from the carriage house roof, pointing and shouting words in Russian. 

She watched frozen as he took Juliet’s hand and pulled her toward a doorway.  Moments later they appeared down in the yard, two black figures stumbling to safety across the white snowfield.  A policeman reached for Juliet.  Once more Ivan shouted in Russian, then turned and began running through the shadows,
back toward the burning house
.

Another spark fell sizzling on her arm and she beat it away. 

She was running out of time.  Think, think!  What had Ivan been trying to tell her?  Creposh?

No.  Krepost.

Tower
!

The tower on the south side... 
away from the flames
.  A tower, with a balcony.  There had to be a doorway, stairs.

Just do it.  She took a deep breath, let go of the chimney and began to crawl across the roof, fighting off the lingering dizziness, sobbing now, gasping for air.

Suddenly there was a huge roar, like a freight train rushing toward her.  Sparks and clouds of dense orange smoke enveloped her as the house began collapsing in on itself.

There was no time
! 
No, damn you.  You promised Juliet.  Fight
!

Cold air pushed away the smoke.  She opened her eyes and saw the tower, only feet away.  And there - the blessed balcony. 

Get home, she thought.  Get home to Ruby
. 

The small balcony with its arched door was almost within reach, just below the edge of the roof.

She lunged forward, sliding down, spinning out of control, toward the edge.

“Hold on!” A man’s voice, shouting to her from far below.

Muscles burning, tearing as she fought to stop her slide.

She was going to fall!

Like hell I will!  
Not this time
. 

She saw her child’s face, red curls gleaming like a beacon in the night.  Slamming her boots against the packed snow, she fought to hold on.

Her legs swung out over the black void.

I’m here, Zan!  On the tower!  I’ll catch you
. 

Her sister’s voice?  Waiting for her –

I can’t, Eve…

Live or die!  Just do it, damn you
!  Her sister’s voice, or hers?

She
lunged blindly to the right, flinging her arms toward the iron bars of the balcony as she fell into space.

Somehow, she managed to close her blistering fingers around the iron bars of the balcony railing.  Her knee cracked hard against the stone base, finding purchase.

Through sheer force of will she held on, pulling herself hand over hand up from the void.  It was her sister’s voice, ringing in her head, that gave her the strength to climb over the railing.  “Eve,” she whispered, collapsing from pain and smoke inhalation and pure fear onto the stone parapet.

The sound of boots, running on stairs.  She forced her eyes open.  How long had she been unconscious?  Spinning darkness.

A voice, much deeper than her sister’s.  A door swung open, a shadowy figure appeared.  Warmth, and the scent of wool and pines.

She looked up.  The shadow became a face.   Shining dark eyes, framed by the fiery night sky.

“Find Juliet,” she gasped.

“She’s safe.  Don’t talk, Red.  I’m going to carry you downstairs.  Don’t fight me.”

“But I’ve found Ivan!  We have to - ”  Spasms of coughing wracked her body.

“Dammit, Red, if I have to knock you out to keep you quiet, I will!”

“What took you so long?” she demanded. 

Flames shimmered deep in the dark eyes.  She wanted to tell him…  but then the blackness spun toward her.  She sank into the deepening snow as she felt herself gathered into strong arms.

As if from a long tunnel, she heard his voice.

“Stay with me, Red.”

Stay with me
.

CHAPTER 54

“His dark secret love...”

William Blake

NEW YORK CITY 

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 31

Flames!

A roof.  High, slippery, lit by fire.

A voice, calling to her.

 FALLING.

Alexandra’s eyes flew open, heart thudding in her chest.

White. 

Where was she?  A white-curtained window, the soft glow of first light.  White sheets.  White machines… 

Her hands hurt like hell.  She lifted them, saw the blur of white bandages.  

She tried to slow her breathing, and became aware of sounds –  soft beeping, a slow steady drip somewhere close, a phone ringing, far away.  Quick footsteps.

Where was Ruby?  Where was Juliet?

She turned her head.  Shooting pain.  Nausea.  Focus.  A digital clock.  Four a.m.  Blinking lights.  Cool sheets.  A sharp, medicinal smell. 

Hospital? 

She was alone.  She tried to call out, but her throat was raw, parched.

Think.  Concentrate.

Images, tumbling suddenly into her head.  Shattered, like a kaleidoscope.  A high, dark room.  The silhouette of a man.  Flames!   A roof.   Juliet leaping into the night.   A man, shouting, running into the heart of the flames.

For a brief moment, the curtain lifted.  Ivan!  She had found Ivan. 
He
had been the man who ran into the flames.

Was he alive?  Or was he –