Free Phoenix Burning by Bryony Pearce Page A

the creak of bolts being drawn. Then the gate opened and Toby gasped. Ignoring the brother altogether, he stepped into a square as big as the deck of the Phoenix , drawn by the building that faced him.
    The stone of the old Catholic cathedral was pale; golden in the noon sun and Toby could see watermarks halfway up each pillar where the building had stood against the battering of the sea.
    A larger-than-life-size statue of the Virgin Mary raised her arms in an alcove above a vast vaulted door that would once have been made of wood, but was now a mish-mash of sun-burned metal. The iconic statue now sported a bright copper sunburst on her head. Covering half-seen coats of arms, more images of the sun surrounded the doors.
    On the top of the building was the giant circle of bronze that they had seen from the Phoenix . Toby shaded his eyes with his free arm.
    “There’re the people.” Ayla pulled Toby past a crowd of native Gozitans. Gathered behind a cordon, they leaned close to watch them pass; hollow-eyed and hungry-looking. When their murmuring rose, Toby edged further away and looked for Rita and D’von.
    Rita’s bright hair stood out even in the crowd of younger teens gathered around her.
    “Did you expect so many?” Toby muttered under his breath.
    Ayla swallowed. “Of course.” But she didn’t meet his eyes.
    They walked over to the large group. Toby was taken aback by the differences in the shades of blond and dark that faced him. The variations ranged from a girl with dark blond, almost brown hair that was cut into a short mohawk, to a true white-haired albino boy whose pink eyes followed Toby as he came to a stop.
    The youngest of their competitors, a delicate-looking doll of a girl, seemed no older than thirteen.
    Toby looked at Rita, trying to view her with a critical eye. Was her age noticeable to the others? She was eight years older than Toby, but seemed younger than that. Toby wasn’t sure if she could pass for an old-looking sixteen, but she and D’von did make a good pair. Toby waited for a twinge of jealousy, but felt none. He was completely over his youthful crush. He looked sideways at Ayla, who stood next to him. “Now what?”
    “We wait,” she replied. “They make their selection at midday, remember? There’s a sundial if you want to track it.”

    Toby couldn’t take his eyes from the line of the sundial. He was not the only one. The crowd behind the cordon tracked the moving shadow, with pointing fingers and restless eyes. And as it drew nearer to the centre of the square, the murmuring of the other pairs quietened, enoughfor him to be able to make out individual conversations.
    “Praise the Sun.” His chin jerked up at the almost defiantly angry tone. A boy with dark hair so fine that it stuck to his head in sweaty streaks stood before a swarthy teen whose crater-marked face told Toby he had suffered a pox and ignored anyone who had told him not to scratch.
    The younger boy had clenched fists and, even though his words were prayerful, he spoke through gritted teeth.
    “You’re such a dupe,” the older boy sneered. “You believe all this sun crap.”
    “Why are you here?” the younger boy raged. “This is a festival for worshippers of the Sun, non-believers shouldn’t be here.”
    “Ha!” The swarthy boy cracked his knuckles.
    His companion, a wispy-looking blond, narrowed her eyes. “Obviously, we’re here for the money.” She rubbed her hands together.
    “What money?” Toby looked at Ayla.
    She looked mystified. “Sebastiane didn’t say anything about money.”
    “You should be here for the glory of the Sun,” the younger boy insisted. “Not for your own gain.”
    Toby realized that the watchers nearest them had fallen silent and were listening as intently as he.
    “You have to admit the money helps.” Another girl,whose hair was a dark brown mass of straw, spoke with a thick Hungarian accent. “We’re here for the glory of the Sun.” She looked at the