The Winter Phoenix (WAYHAUGHT)

Christmas Sweater

Nicole's mind spun at Trixie's words. How the hell can I have a wife? How the hell could a perfect stranger in the back of my taxi be my wife without me knowing?

Trixie moved towards the door. "Please, we haven't long. Take only what is necessary."

There was nothing for it but to do as instructed. Her current outfit exchanged for something dryer, her unwashed sports gear dumped on the bed, she packed her gym bag with a few items of clothing not knowing why, or how long she would be gone, or who she was running from. Her world no longer afforded her any sense of familiarity, the people she assumed were her friends acting weird, one having been taken hostage by a group either searching for her, or whoever had used her taxi.

Trixie entered the bedroom. "Do you have the necklace?"

"Why do I need a necklace?"

"You must wear it from now on. All set."

"Wait. I'm not wearing it. Give me a moment."

She felt in the top drawer of her bedside cabinet, unable to locate it. "It's here somewhere. I need a light."

"No, call to it. It will come to you."

"This is fucking nuts. How the hell do I do that?"

"You cannot leave without it."

"It's just a necklace."

"It's your inheritance. Without it you stand little chance against the forces out to kill you."

"I just call to it. That's it. Like any of this is normal. Here necky, necky. Come to momma."

"What are you doing?" Trixie asked. "Use our language. Hurry."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Trixie neared, placing a hand on Nicole's shoulder. "I know this doesn't make much sense right now. They took everything from you. All that was you, so that we might have peace. You must find the words."

Nicole stood before the open drawer her hand outstretched searching her mind for whatever Trixie was asking her to do. "It's no good. I don't have another language. It's hopeless."

"We can't leave it. Okay, what if you repeat what I say? That might work."

Trixie began speaking words Nicole had never heard, a series of sounds alien to her ear. There was no way she could repeat anything being said, let alone use them to find a rogue piece of jewellery. "Stop, stop, it's no use. You're speaking gibberish."

Trixie growled in frustration. "There's one other thing I can try. I'm so sorry."

Nicole felt something sharp pierce her ass, letting out a howl as a string of strange sounds tumbled from her mouth. "You have no right. Oh, oh, what's this? Landoryn come to me."

A light glowed from under the bed, Nicole bending down to see what it was. "I'm here little one," something whispered, her hand finding the necklace.

"Forgive me my liege," Trixie said, bowing. "It was a last resort. Now, we must go."

Nicole sat in the passenger seat, her right buttock still stinging from the jab of a pointed knife, as Trixie drove at speed away from London. By dawn they were at their destination, a remote cottage near Tregaron in the west of Wales, its whitewashed stone walls and red door ideal for a romantic getaway, temporarily the hideout for two women in need of somewhere safe while they figured out what to do.

The entire journey Nicole badgered Trixie to explain what was going on, why they were fleeing, who they were fleeing from, how they were involved. It's complicated was all she kept saying. Of course it was complicated, but that didn't answer the multitude of questions swirling in Nicole's head. Trixie was a little more forthcoming when they stopped at a motorway service station, the pair seated in a quiet corner of a Costa coffee outlet Nicole hugging her second hot chocolate of the evening.