Chapter 34

“That was a phoenix,” he whispered. “He was, he is, the Phoenix, exactly as I portrayed him in my painting. It’s impossible. It’s only a myth, and yet I saw it—him, rising from the flames.” His vision blurred as tears began to fall and he finally accepted what had happened. “Why, Conley? Why didn’t you tell me?” He knew the answer. If Conley had, he wouldn’t have believed him.I would have told him he was crazy. Such things don’t exist except in fairytales. He recalled one of them. The Phoenix had to be reborn every five hundred years. To die by fire and rise again, renewed.

Drying his tears, Brian stood, going into the house. It felt empty. He felt empty. As if his reason for living had vanished with Conley.

“Did he mean it? Will he return? If he does, can I handle it, now that I know the truth?”

Disconsolate, he wandered upstairs, going to the solarium. Sir K flew to his shoulder the second he entered the room, rubbing his head against Brian’s.