Page 25 of Sweet Nightmare

The warning affirmation sounds—this little exchange has eaten up our passing period—and I glance toward the group therapy room. Last class of the day.

But before I can head that way, my gaze snags on Jude, who is walking down the hall with his friend, Ember. She’s a lot shorter than he is, so he’s leaning down a little to hear her in the noisy halls as he nods along with whatever she’s saying.

But his eyes aren’t on her—they’re on me and Remy. And he doesn’t look happy.

Not that he has the right to look any way about me or what I’m doing—we aren’t friends, no matter how he acted toward the end of English class today. I start to look away as the lights flicker yet again—this storm is really doing a number on our power grid—but then Ember screams.

The sound—loud, high-pitched, nerve-shattering—rips through the hallways as she bursts into flames.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

WHERE THERE’S SMOKE

THERE’S A PHOENIX

It starts with her tight, red-tipped curls, so for a second, I think I’m imagining it. But within seconds, her whole head is engulfed in flames, followed by her shoulders, her arms, her entire torso, her legs.

“What the fuck?” Luis exclaims as he comes rushing up to me, eyes wide and freaked out as Jude jumps into action.

Not that I blame him. Ember burning is absolutely the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen, bar none. And that’s not even counting her pain-filled screams, which have my throat closing up in horror.

Judging by the way other students start yelling and scrambling out of the way, I’m not the only one who feels like that. Not Jude, though. Instead of fleeing, he rips the huge water canteen from his backpack and dumps the whole thing over Ember’s head.

It doesn’t make a dent as she continues to scream. And as every part of her continues to burn—her long curly hair, her dark-brown skin, even her deep black eyes. The flames are everywhere.

Desperate to help her, Jude rips off his red Calder Academy hoodie and starts slapping at the flames, trying to smother them as Ember turns into a column of fire and the sickening scent of singed hair and clothing fills the hallway.

“What do we do?” Remy demands, scooting toward her even as the wave of retreating students continues to push its way toward us.

“I don’t know,” I answer, trying to avoid getting trampled as I move with him. “She’s a phoenix.”

But she shouldn’t be burning. We’ve had dozens of phoenixes come through here, and none of them have ever caught fire. Like theirs, her magic should be tamped down by the school’s power-dampening shields, her ability to flame out completely gone.

And yet here she is, burning and burning and burning, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that can stop it. Not the water Jude dumped on her. Not his sweatshirt, which has long since gone up in flames. And not the hands he’s now using to continue to swat, fruitlessly, at the flames.

“It’s okay, Jude!” My uncle Carter runs out of his classroom, his blond hair flopping with each step as he grabs onto Jude and uses every ounce of his manticore strength to try to pull him away. When that doesn’t budge Jude even an inch, he tries to slide between them instead. “She’s a phoenix! She’s supposed to burn like this.”

But Jude doesn’t look convinced—probably because Ember is still screaming—and he continues to try to put out the flames, his hands blistering a little more with every second they’re in contact with her fiery body.

That’s what finally shakes me out of my terror, the knowledge that he won’t stop trying to help her anytime soon. He’s getting burned, badly, and I’m terrified that if the damage gets much worse, even the healers won’t be able to help him.

Ms. Aguilar’s offhand comment from yesterday’s class plays through my mind as I race three doors down to the chem lab and grab the fire extinguisher off the wall. Then I run back to Jude and Ember and spray them both with the potassium carbonate inside it.

The flames on Jude’s shirt and hands go out instantly, but Ember continues to burn. When he tries to dive back in, I wrap my hand around his upper arm and hold him as tightly as I can.

“Jude, it’s okay!” I tell him as I try to pull him away. “Ember’s going to be okay.”

It’s like he doesn’t even hear me, like he’s so focused on trying to save her that he doesn’t realize what I’m saying—or what’s really going on here. “I can’t let her die, too,” he whispers. “I just can’t.”

I don’t know what that means, but now isn’t exactly the time to ask.

Thankfully, Uncle Carter has backed off, so I take the opportunity to put myself between them. “Look at her, Jude,” I whisper, ignoring the blaze of heat on my back. “Look inside the flames. Really look at Ember. She’s burning, but she’s not actually getting burned. She’s okay.”

It takes a few more seconds, but my words finally get through. He drops his hands and pulls back just a little.

Now that I’m past my initial terror that he’s going to burn up right alongside her, I move back and watch Ember burn, too. Engulfed in flames so hot they’re white and blue, she is absolutely mesmerizing. And now that she’s finally stopped screaming and the pain seems to be over, the knot in my throat relaxes.

For the first time in my life, I understand the relationship between fire and rebirth.

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