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This electronic edition published in 2021 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
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First published in the United States of America in May 2021 by Bloomsbury Childrens Books
Text copyright 2021 by Arne Flores
Illustrations copyright 2021 by Vivienne To
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Flores, Arne, author.
Title: The Firebird Song / by Arne Flores.
Description: New York : Bloomsbury Childrens Books, 2021.
Summary: Tied by destiny, Prewitt the Bargeboy and Calliope the Lost Princess set out on their twelfth birthdays, determined to end the reign of the evil Spectress and her marauders by calling the Firebird back to Lyrica.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020040637 (print) | LCCN 2020040638 (e-book)
ISBN: 978-1-5476-0512-5 (HB)
ISBN: 978-1-5476-0513-2 (eBook)
Subjects: CYAC: Fantasy.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.F59427 Fir 2021 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.F59427 (e-book) | DDC [Fic]dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020040637
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To Miah, for giving me hope that I could do anything, and to Heather, for never making me be brave alone
contents
a long time ago
The Demon gnashed its black teeth as it sank beneath the molten surface. It howled, and raged, and fought against the chains that bound it, but it was no use. They had been forged by hope.
What had gone wrong? The Demon still couldnt understand. The darkness had nearly been complete. But this time, at the last moment, just as the Demon was certain it had won, the Firebird had returned to defeat it once again. The unfairness of it all made the Demon weep. Tarry tears splattered and sizzled against its leathery skin.
Since the dawn of time, when the Demon had opened its eyes and felt the realms pulsating with potential for good or evil, the Firebird had been there, too. They were twin creatures born from a single spark of the Great Emperors campfire: one the embodiment of hope, the other a manifestation of fear.
But while the Firebird flew freely between the realms, singing its interminable Song of Hope, the Demon was forced to wait for an invitation. As the Firebird got fat on the golden apples from the Halcyon Tree that grew at the center of the Emperors garden, watered by the hope of all realms, the Demon was left to wander, ravenous in the void.
There were no apples for it, no magical songs that caused spring to sprout and spirits to rise from nothing, no magic that allowed the Demon to create at all. Its powers lay in destruction.
It whispered and waited in the void until finally a crack formed, allowing it to slip into a new realm. Humanity had answered its call, and the Demon was finally free to do what it was made to do.
Of course humans had been the key. They always were. They were born fearful, and that fear enabled the Demon to ignite chaos. They ravaged and razed and, in the process, destroyed themselves and the very land that prospered them. It was a feast of power, and the Demon ate its fill. It gorged and gorged until there was no hope left in all the realm.
At last, the Firebird was the one trapped and starving in the void.
Even the Ancient Spirits, the first and most magical of the Firebirds creations, were not able to summon the Firebird. They used every power they knew to entice it to return, but they were not strong enough to overcome the fear and chaos the Demon wrought.
But then somehow, without any warningout of nowhere!the Firebird returned.
The Demon still couldnt understand it. All hope had been snuffed out. It should have won! But
Ah, he remembered now.
A girl. A child so small, the Demon could have stepped on her without noticing. She couldnt have been older than twelve in human years, but she had done the impossible.
She had called the Firebird back.
The Demon shook its head. Enough with these thoughts. What did it matter? This was a dance he knew all too well. Hed memorized every step by rote, and fear could never be kept still for long.
Perhaps the Demons power could not free it from the Firebirds prison, but it could still be given to the right servant, and then what had been started could begin again.
One child was nothing, meaningless. Soon she would die, and humankind would forget what she had done. Humans never learned, not really.
The Demon chuckled. It howled. It hooted.
Yes, the Demons time would come again. It had only to whisper, to lift up its voice through the cracks and crevices in the earth, and eventually its call would catch hold. Someone would hear and come to share its power.
Then, at last, the Demon would have its revenge.
Lyrica was no place for questions and certainly not one for answers. But Prewitts curiosity was greater than his fear, and he couldnt stop the words from rushing out with a puff of breath in the dark.
Granny Arila, wont you tell me what happened that night? The night of the Terrible Thing? No one had ever told him the story before. He had caught fragments, frightened whispers that trailed off when he came near, but that was all.
A golden Feather, a terrible curse, a Thief who had come in the night.
But no matter how he prodded for details about the Terrible Thing, mouths promptly pressed shut and doors slammed in his face.
For a moment, he wasnt sure the old woman had heard, but finally she nodded. Yes, you should know. It is time.