Page 12 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

No longer hypnotized, I can suddenly see what's going on in front of me. The Heretic had his followers row towards the shore so he could scoop me up. Just a few feet away, he sits at the prow of his boat, letting someone else steer it, a blanket-wrapped body just behind him.

My pulse skyrockets at the sight of Lizzy's body.

The thought of his grubby hands on her is enough to make me furious.

I feel the magic in me explode outward all at once. Completely off its leash, the madness touches everything living in a hundred foot radius: the birds in the sky, the fish in the river, every little rodent, and the hawks eyeing them from up above.

Teeming with life, the river swells. I rush towards it, blue flames licking through my brand new blue hair. The swelling of the river draws the boat towards my angry hands. I surge forward into the water, feet kicking up dirt from the shallow bank.

The boat is so close. I can see a splash of hair spill from beneath the edge of the blanket.Lizzy.Her body is right there, mere feet away from me. An entire school of fish swims upward towards the hull and draws the boat ever closer. I stretch hungrily forward, wanting nothing more than to take my little sister against my chest and lay her spirit to rest among our witch ancestors. She's all I want and all that I see.

So I don't sense it coming until it's too late. The gun flashes briefly in the sun overhead. Growling, the Heretic snarls, "No!" But his follower has already pulled the trigger, and the bullet hits my chest with so much force that I stumble back.

Eyes wide, I look towards the Heretic's dark face, as if I expect to see something there besides emptiness and cruelty.

He grabs his follower's wrist and twists it until the bones audibly snap. "Now you've done it. We wanted her at her most powerful."

The ground rises up to meet me, and my magic slips from my grasp. I whimper as the pain of the bullet tearing through my chest catches up with me all at once. Water laps at my body, and red blood swirls out with the gentle current. I can hear an oar dip into the water as my father's follower rows the two of them, and Lizzy's body, downstream.

Apparently he doesn't want me if I'm dying. He doesn't want his follower's dead body either. I wonder how long it'll take him to replace the lunatics among his people who have died today. Violent lunatics seem to flock to him like moths to a flame, uncaring if they die getting too close.

I can feel the blood loss make me weaker, dragging me down into darkness.

It seems impossible that I lived through having all the blood drained from my body and being thrown onto a pyre, only to die because of a single gunshot wound.

There isn't even anyone here to do the funeral rites over my body, like all witches deserve. If I even am a witch anymore. I don't have any of the answers.

The last thought that flits through my head before I succumb is: what happened to the wolf, and why did he save me?

Chapter 6

The currentsof death pull me through darkness towards the underworld. I feel a strange sense of peace and warmth, knowing that I'll get to see Mom and Lizzy again. In death, if nowhere else, we can finally be at peace.

No more running. No more hunting. The killing, the fear, the sleepless nights and looking over our backs—all done. We'll be a family again.

I worry that we won't get to the right place in the afterlife, since none of us had the proper rites performed to let our spirits go, but at least we'll be together.

Then I feel it: a dull, throbbing ache in my chest.Pain.Something I know spirits don't feel.

I'm not dead—not yet. Nothing could be more disappointing or shocking.

Groaning, I come to slowly, pins and needles running up and down my arms and legs. I open my eyes and stare up into a dark sky with glowing lights all around me. I'm suspended above the ground, something warm and solid holding me up. It takes me a long moment to realize that someone was holding me, cradling me against their chest, walking me through an empty parking lot. There's a heart beating near my ear, the rhythm steady and slow.

My eyes focus on the edge of a sharp jawline and a medium brown complexion. A tiny black braid has swept over one shoulder and is tickling my forehead. The man who's carrying me is strong and solid, his grip gentle, his steps sure.

Pulse leaping, I frantically realize that the Heretic must have changed his mind about taking me with him. He's sent one of his followers to whisk me away. As soon as I've recovered from the bullet wound, he'll have me use my powers so he can drain them, the way he's drained so much strength and magic, until I'm dead. All because he thinks that being a witch is heresy, and he's been granted near invulnerability to hunt and kill us—if he can't fix us by taking what makes us different.

I need to get away. I have to fight this, if only to die an honorable death and join my family in the afterlife. Biting my lower lip, I gather blue flames to my loose hand, which swings down and out of sight.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice is low and calm, coming from a few feet away. "Xavier has been carrying you for hours, and that's no way to repay the favor of saving your ass."

"Hey, I saved her first."

The irritated voice comes from another direction. Whirling my head around, I count three of them, including the guy carrying me. They're all tall, broad, and muscular, the glowing neon signage above our heads lighting the curve of their dense muscles red, orange, and bright blue.

I don't see the Heretic among them. When I reach out with my naturalistic senses, all I find are the tiny spirits of rats, typical in an urban setting, and...

"Where's the wolf?" Squirming in my captor's arms, I manage to make holding onto me difficult enough that he slides me down until my feet hit the ground. "And those two panthers. I can feel them, but I can't see them."

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