"I wanted the back seat," Ruby complains.
"That's okay," Maya relents. "I'll move to the front. I'll just have to move Addy's bag..."
"Oh! Let me," Addy offers.
CRASH.
"Oops. There goes that potion."
This is how my day's going so far. We're squeezed into a cart, weaving through the main streets of Zilitron. Magnamite glares at us from above. In every door and window, I see my own face. Lilac hair hanging over a frown. That's all I am today.
It won't take us long to get to Merrivale, the suburb where I grew up. I lay my head against the cart seat and taste city smoke. There's a reason I don't visit my childhood home.
Some guy in a luxury cart makes a surprise left turn, and our driver swerves to miss him.
CRASH.
There goes another potion.
"Sorry about that, losers!" the passenger yells out the window.
"I hope you get stuck in a pothole," I mutter.
The city is bright with sunshine today. Carts whizz and honk, pedestrians amble in a neverending stream of shopping bags and chatter, and dust smogs the air. Eventually, the smog clears and concrete gives way to waving grasses streaked with colourful wildflowers.
Onyx sticks his head out the window. Lily, stop this cart. I wish to play in the wildflowers.
I scowl. "You bit someone. You're in cat prison. No wildflowers for you."
Onyx flattens his ears against the sides of his head. Do not be cruel, Lily.
"Aw, let him have his fun, Lil," Addy says. "He was in a bad mood that day."
"Plus he'll complain the rest of the way if you don't." Maya adds.
We let him out and he jumps around like a maniac. The driver takes the opportunity to check the cart's fire quartz core.
Ruby shoves a communications monitor in my face. "I've been doing research on phoenixes."
I brush the monitor away. "This isn't about phoenixes. There isn't a phoenix in my house."
"How do you know? Look at this. Once risen from its ashes, the phoenix's first task is to seek revenge on the one who caused its death."
My breath hitches. "How do you know someone caused its death?"
Ruby scrolls to a painting of a bird shimmering with flame. "Phoenixes don't burst into flame naturally. It's a defense response. When they're in mortal danger, they self-immolate to protect themselves. The ashes are a preservation state."
A preservation state. Death is a preservation state. The thought comes to me unbidden. Every time the First Witch died, she was born anew. Another chance. A way to cheat the end.
I fall asleep in the cart and dream of my mother. She's fresh and pink-cheeked, and alive. Her honey-blonde hair is pulled back into a loose bun. She wears a white dress with a yellow sunhat. Her fingers brush wildflowers, never quite touching them.
"Lily," she sings. "My dear, sweet Lily. My only daughter. The sun in my sky. You know I would never hurt you."
Of course I know that. She's my mother. She loves me like no one else will.
"You know that, don't you Lily?" Her fingers hover over a hyacinth. Her face is still.
"Yes," I answer, though I don't know where I am.
"I would never hurt you, Lily," she tells me again. Everything around her has stilled. She watches me with blank eyes.
"I know you wouldn't."
The music is gone from her voice. "I would never hurt you," she repeats. Twin phoenixes blaze in her eyes. "So why did you hurt me?"
*