“It’s okay!” Julia said, gently slapping Phoebe on the back, “We’re the safest people you could be with right now. We can even stop for breakfast-”
“It’s important for you to come with us,” Cat said. “I’m not asking you to join Quill, but we’ll help protect you. The person who performed a Consumption on you is most likely behind a series of other incidents that we’ve been following.” He glanced up at the sky, “I’ve been studying the Firebird for years, but the main reason why I’m involved with Quill is because I’m a fledgling, just like you. I’ve seen the Firebird with my own eyes! Regardless of whether or not you remember, some part of you knows. You can’t deny what’s happened.”
Phoebe shot Cat a suspicious glare. It was ingrained into the mythology, into every tale: The Firebird only gave out one feather a year, and it was only active for a short time. In some tales it was 3 years, others 10, but in many it was 25. 25 years, 25 feathers, 25 wishes in the whole world.
“You’re crazy.” She said.
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