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80AD - The Jewel of Asgard (Book 1), Page 2

Aiki Flinthart

CHAPTER ONE

   

  PHOENIX

   

   

  Phoenix glanced at his watch and groaned.  Five-thirty. Late.  Rising up on the bike pedals, he pushed harder, speeding down the sleepy suburban street.  Driveways and front yards flashed past. Neighbours hallooed. He ignored them.  If he was late again and Jacob found out….

  He pedalled harder.

  His driveway appeared.  He slammed on the brakes, turning to slide into it with a spray of gravel.  The adrenalin rush brought a smile of fierce joy to his face.  A few more quick pushes brought him up the slight incline and around the back of the mansion he now called home.  Well, the house where he lived, anyway.  Peering into the garage, he heaved a sigh of relief.  His mother wasn’t home and neither was Jacob.

  Leaning his bike against the house, Phoenix pulled out a key and let himself in through the kitchen door.  Pausing for a moment, he listened hard.  The big, cold house was echoingly empty.  Some of the tension went out of his shoulders.  He dropped his aikido bag on the kitchen floor before slouching over to the fridge to inspect its contents.  Since turning thirteen, six months before, he always seemed to be hungry.  His mother teased him about it – and, unfortunately, it also gave Jacob another reason to be annoyed with him.

  After staring vaguely into the full fridge for awhile, Phoenix grabbed container of cold pizza from dinner the night before.  He shut the door then immediately opened it again and picked out a can of Coke.

  Car tyres crunched up the drive.  Startled, he stared over his shoulder at the back wall of the house, trying to work out whose car it was by sound.  Hearing the distinctive thrum of a big engine, he bolted for the stairs.  At the last second, he skidded to a stop.  A car door slammed.  Swearing under his breath, Phoenix dashed back and snatched up his aikido bag, shoving the pizza and drink into it as he turned again for the stairs.   Seven long jumps brought him safely to the top where he stopped, leaning against a wall around the corner to catch his breath.

  The kitchen door opened.  Heavy footsteps rapped sharply across marble tiles.  Phoenix didn’t wait any longer.  Jacob was home. 

  Stepping softly along the pile-carpeted hallway, he reached his own room, eased the door open, let himself in and closed it again; carefully.  Only once it was fully closed did he put the bag gently down and finally breathe out.  Dropping into the chair in front of his study desk, he opened the drink, sucked up the bubbles and switched on his computer.  Running stiff fingers through an unruly mop of brown hair, he swivelled to stare out the window.

  Now, if he just kept his head low for an hour or so, his mother would come home and he could avoid any sort of run-in with his stepfather at all.  Jacob would know Phoenix was home by the fact his bike was there but they had an unspoken agreement to avoid each other whenever humanly possible.  Really, the only time they crossed paths was at dinner and Jacob Smithson never made any sort of fuss about his stepson in front of Gwen.

  As he waited for his computer to boot up, Phoenix munched on pizza and thought about his life.  There wasn’t much to think about.  Time passed; things happened all around him but he didn’t actually feel a part of it.  The endless round of school days just didn’t seem real.  He felt stuck, waiting for something to happen; for some miracle to make it like it used to be when Dad was alive. He snorted. Like that was ever going to happen.

  He had a couple of friends at school but no best buddies.  His dad had always been his best friend and he just didn’t feel like putting in the effort to make another.   School itself was mindnumbingly boring - except for sports.  He was good at sports but nowadays he didn’t even get to do much of that.  Every time he tried to stand up for himself and argue with Jacob over some dumb new rule, his stepfather punished him by cutting back on more of his outside school activities.  The only stuff he got to do now was play computer games and go to aikido.  Games were just a time-waster; an escape; a place to hide and not have to think.  The dojo existed now as the only place he really felt alive.  His Sensei was pretty much the only person who listened and understood, anyway.

  Phoenix frowned. That was why he absolutely had to be home on time today: the threat from Jacob to pull him out of classes if he was late home again.  He really wasn’t sure what he’d do if that happened.  Run away?

  His lips twisted into a scornful smile.  Where to?  He had nowhere to go.  He wasn’t old enough to earn a living and he’d seen what happened to other kids who ended up on the streets – drugs and whatever.  Nah.  He shook his head and began to check his emails.  Jacob might be a prat but living in the same house with him remained better than the alternatives.

  Besides, his mother was happy, and that was the most important thing.  Phoenix all too clearly remembered hearing her cry herself to sleep every night for months after the car accident three years ago.  He remembered the helpless anger; remembered how lost he’d felt and how frightened; how much he’d hoped his dad would just walk back in the house and say it had all been a big mistake.  He still sometimes hoped that but he’d learned to live with it now.  Honestly, he’d been glad when his mother had finally hooked up with Jacob.  She’d stopped crying and started smiling again, at least.

  OK, so Jacob wasn’t an ideal stepfather but he was better than some.  He was rich and at least he didn’t drink or hit.  Sure, he was unfair a lot of the time: like when he grounded Phoenix for stupid little things like running late for school or not putting his plate in the dishwasher; but he was prepared to put up with that for the sake of his mothers’ happiness.

  With a sigh, Phoenix turned his attention to the latest on-line game he’d joined and did his level best to obliterate both restless unhappiness and digital enemies for the next twenty minutes or so.  For some reason, it didn’t seem to help this time, so he logged out and switched to updating his blog.  Nobody read it but it made him feel better to vent his irritation with Jacob somewhere.  Eventually, even the satisfaction of that wore off and he watched some of the weird stuff that came up on YouTube instead.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs – heavy ones.

  Phoenix glanced quickly at the door.  There was only one reason for Jacob to come upstairs – to see his stepson; and that was not good news.  Rapidly, he cleaned away the debris of food and tossed the Coke can into the bin.  He wasn’t supposed to eat in his room.  Brushing crumbs off his shirt, Phoenix closed his blog and YouTube and jumped to his feet just as the door handle began to turn.

  It opened and Jacob filled the doorway with his bulk.  Phoenix tried to resist the urge to back away.  His stepfather was intimidating – a fact he knew and used to his advantage both at work and at home.  It was hard not to feel young and defenceless when faced with his six foot, muscular form.

  Familiar resentment burned low in his guts. He swallowed hard, pushing the feelings down.  Maybe in a few years time he’d be big enough and tough enough to take Jacob on but until then….

  “Did you take the last coke?” Jacob’s grey eyes were narrowed in annoyance.

  Dumbly, Phoenix nodded, trying to slow his now-racing heart.  “Sorry.”

  Jacob grunted, his gaze darting around the room.  He spotted the pizza container Phoenix had forgotten to hide.  His mouth thinned.  With two long strides he walked over and picked it up, holding it up in front of Phoenix’s face like a weapon.

  “And my pizza. I was saving it for lunch tomorrow,” he growled.

  Phoenix tried to hold his head up defiantly but couldn’t.  He looked away and was ashamed of his own cowardice.  “Sorry,” he mumbled again. “I didn’t know.”

  Abruptly, Jacob moved closer.  Phoenix took an involuntary step away and sat down as the chair caught him in the back of the knees.  His stepfather leaned over him, placing huge hands on the chair arms.

  “I’m sick of your attitude, Phoenix,” he said, his expression stiff with barely-restrained annoyance. “You’re lazy and self-centred and you act as tho
ugh the world owes you a living.  Lord knows I’ve tried to be patient for your mothers’ sake but enough is enough.  If you want to continue to live in my house then you’ll live by my rules, understand?”  He waited a moment until Phoenix managed a nod then he pushed off and stood up.  “If not then you’re welcome to go elsewhere.”  With a glare, Jacob turned on his heel and left, slamming the door forcefully behind him.

  Phoenix made a rude gesture at the door then slumped back in the chair, gritting his teeth together to stop himself from yelling an angry comeback as well.  It just wasn’t fair.  It was hard enough to cope with high school, homework; and idiot older kids at school bullying the younger ones without getting it at home as well.  If his real dad was alive this wouldn’t be happening.

  He glanced at a framed photo on his desk.  Alex Carter grinned back at him, his arm around a younger Phoenix, both of them smiling madly and holding up a large, silvery trout.  That had been such a great camping trip.  The three of them had trekked around the Scottish highlands for two weeks, camping and fishing wherever they felt like it.  Phoenix grimaced, remembering how his mother had complained about the rain. His father had hugged her, smiled at her and promised her a week in the south of France sunshine for their next holiday.  Gwen Carter had laughed and shaken her damp head knowingly before sending her two boys off to catch dinner.  Somehow, when they’d returned, cold and triumphant, she’d had a fire going and hot chocolate ready.

  That night, the clouds had cleared and Alex had taken his son and wife to lie in the heather and watch the stars.  Shooting stars had arced like fireworks through the brilliant skies.  His father had pointed out constellations and told stories of ancient cultures and their beliefs in sky-gods.    Phoenix had listened, fascinated by his father’s gift for weaving stories and fact into vivid images.  Eventually, when they were all chilled and tired, he had gone to sleep in their little tent, hearing the laughing, contented murmured conversation of his parents as they sat by the fire.

  There was a noise downstairs: the kitchen door closing; his mother’s cheerful voice upraised in greeting.  Depression descended on Phoenix again like the Scottish clouds.  A faint surge of old anger washed through him.  He reached up and lay his fathers’ photo face down on the desk.  Alex Carter was gone.  Things would never be the same again.  He was stuck with his life as it was until he was old enough to get the heck out.  Slow tears stung his eyes but he clenched his fists and took deep breaths until the pain subsided.  He would not cry.  Crying was for kids and he hadn’t been a kid for three years now.

  “Phoenix, I’m home!”  The lilting sound of his mother’s voice rescued him.  His mother’s light footsteps sounded outside his room. Phoenix hastily pulled out a math book and opened it.  In answer to her cautious knock, he told her to come in and swivelled around to face the door, forcing a smile for her benefit.

  Gwen Carter-Smithson peeked around the door, her pretty face worried.  “Jacob said you two had another run-in.” She came in hesitantly and sat on his bed, laying two wrapped parcels down to one side.  “Are you ok?”

  Phoenix gave her a one-shoulder shrug and turned his face away, afraid she’d see the resentment there.  “I ate his pizza by accident.  He was angry at me.  I’ll live.”

  “Oh, honey.” She put a soft hand on his knee.  “He really does try, you know, and you could be a little easier on him if you wanted.  I know he’s not your Dad but he is doing his best.”

  Hurt she was siding with Jacob, he swung his chair so her hand slid off his knee.  He pulled up his emails again and pretended to read one.   Behind him, his mother sighed faintly.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she offered tentatively.

  Closing his eyes for a second, Phoenix turned back around and tried to look pleased as he took a thick rectangular package from her hands.  “What’s this for?” 

  Gwen smiled and shook her smooth blonde head, “Nothing. I just saw this in town and thought you might like it.” 

  He shook it a little and looked up at her knowingly.

  His mother faked a pout. “You’ve guessed, haven’t you?  I knew I should have wrapped it differently.  You always guess. You’re too smart for me.”  She smiled lovingly.  “Go on, open it anyway”

  Phoenix ripped open the silver paper to reveal a computer game.  He managed to work up a little enthusiasm when he realised it was the Pre-release of the newest fantasy game: 80AD.  Some kids at school had been raving about it just today.  It wasn’t due for full release for another two days.  He’d only be able to footle about on Level One until the Internet Servers allowed access to the full version midnight on Sunday night, so this could be fun.

  Flipping it over, he read the description.  The usual Quest-type game set in ancient times with wizards, dragons, gods, heroes and five levels of difficulty.  It did come with a set of Virtual reality glasses and a Body Connect receiver, which was extremely cool.  It meant he could stand in front of the screen, see the image in surround vision and the receiver would interpret his body movements realistically - so he could kick and punch the badguys in the game to his hearts content without having to use a joystick or mouse.  The graphics looked pretty good and there were probably already cheat-sites on the web he could look up.  Should be interesting for a few hours, anyway.

  “Thanks, mum,” he said as brightly as he could manage.  “It looks great.  I’ll load it in a minute.  What’s this?”  He fingered the second package, frowning.  It was about the size of his palm but hard and square like a small box.

  “Well, if you can’t guess I’m sure not going to tell you!”  Gwen grinned, her pink cheeks dimpling.  “Open it and see. It’s something your father gave me before you were born.  I’ve been holding onto it for you.  I figured this was a good time to give it to you.  You’ve grown up so fast these last couple of years.”  She looked at him with a hint of regret.

  Tearing off the paper, Phoenix wasn’t really paying attention to the gift until it fell into the palm of his hand.  It was a small box of some dark wood, inlaid with ornate decorations of pearl and some whitish-green stone.  The decorations looked kind of like long, thin dragons and birds twisting around the shiny black lid.  It was clipped shut with a tarnished silver hook.  It looked quite old but it was probably just some cheap “made in China” replica antique.  Still…

  He raised an eyebrow and glanced up at his mother.  She nodded for him to open it.  Flicking the clasp open with his thumb, he lifted the lid and drew a deep breath of admiration.  Lying on a worn bed of worn red cloth was a necklace: a thin silver chain with a teardrop shaped pendant hanging off it.  Actually, it was a tadpole-shape.  The thick, rounded end hung from the chain and a kind of curved tail pointed sort of down and sideways.  It was only about the size of a small coin.  The metal had a strange sort of pearly sheen to it and there was a dot of some other, golden metal in the middle of the thicker end.  When he turned it in the light, purples and blues and pinks slipped across the surface like oil.

  It was fascinating; beautiful, somehow….odd...and warm to the touch.

  Anger forgotten, Phoenix glanced up at his mother again.  She stared down at the pendant with a puzzled expression.  Then she shook herself and picked it up from his hand.  Briskly, she clasped the chain around his neck and tucked the pendant inside his shirt.  Patting his chest, she kissed the top of his head.  He could see in the mirror on his wardrobe that she had tears in her eyes.

  “Your father gave this to me on our second date,” she sighed.  “I only ever took it off once, to get it cleaned, about two hours before he died.”

  “I remember you wearing it.  Where did you get it?”  Phoenix pulled it out to look at it again.

  “We were wandering through an antique store in London and found them tucked away in that little box in the corner of an old dresser. I’ve always liked boxes.”

  “Them?” Phoenix looked up at her.  “Hang, on.  Dad wore one, too, d
idn’t he? I remember now.”

  His mother nodded. Her mouth pulled down at the corners.  “They were a pair.” She traced her finger down the inside curved edge of the amulet.  “They fit together perfectly.  Mine was silvery and his was a gold colour but each has a dot of the other colour inside.”  She touched the tiny dot of gold.   “It’s the Chinese Yin Yang symbol, you know.  For balance and Harmony.  It was supposed to bring us happiness in our marriage, although your dad always said ‘happiness is a journey, not a destination’. You know how he always quoted those old Chinese sayings.”

  Phoenix nodded, smiling at the memory of some of his father’s more obscure proverbs.  He still had no idea what half of them meant.  “Yeah.  I remember his favourite: ‘you often find your destiny in the very place you seek to hide from it.’”

  Gwen nodded then sighed. “They did bring us happiness – right up until the time I took it off and he died.”

  “Mum!” Phoenix protested. “You don’t really think taking a necklace off had anything to do with the accident?” 

  “No, of course not,” she reassured him.  “It was just an unlucky co-incidence.”  Gwen shook herself and stood up.  “Unfortunately, on the day your dad died, his half disappeared.  The paramedics thought the chain must have broken in the car accident and either someone picked it up or it got swept up by the street cleaners.” She frowned. “I’ve always wondered if it was those two odd people that were seen with your dad just before he died….” she shook her head and sighed again.

  Phoenix shifted on his seat, not knowing what to say.

  “Anyway…” with a bright smile she leaned down to kiss him again. “Happy anythingday.”

  “Thanks, mum.”  He held up the amulet.  “This is the best gift ever.  I promise I’ll take care of it.”

  She smiled sadly and nodded.  “I know you will.  You’re a good ki….young man.”  Kissing him again, she moved toward the door.  “I’ll go so you can play your game.  Do come down in time for dinner, though.  Chef’s making your favourite.”

  “OK.”  Phoenix watched the door close then stared down again at the half-amulet around his neck.  It was warm.  Maybe that was just because it was against his skin.  Or maybe, he thought secretly, it felt that way because his father was somehow still connected to it, watching over him.

  The sound of his stepfather’s voice downstairs made Phoenix shake his head irritably.  How stupid.  There was nobody watching over him.  His father was dead; his mother married to an idiot; his life reduced to escaping into computer games whenever he could.  Destiny.  Ha.  Some destiny.  With a twist to his mouth, Phoenix stuck the new game into his computer and started to read the instructions. 

  ****