Page 15 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

"Her powers are creepy. I don't like it."

The last boy, Xavier's twin, quips, "As long as her powers don't include giving me blue balls, I'm okay."

I keep my eyes front, but I raise my voice clearly to say, "Apparently no one ever taught any of you that witches are born with advanced hearing abilities."

There's a snort of amusement; Headmaster Towers thinks it's funny that I caught her students gossiping about me, apparently. One of them, probably the geeky twin, murmurs his apologies. They fall into an awkward, embarrassed silence as the gate opens and we walk through together. A sense of vertigo hits me with that single step, because in one moment we've traveled no doubt miles across the country, to the academy's secret location.

If Mom, Lizzy and I had access to a place like this, the Heretic never would've found us. Bitterness fills me at the thought. But only mages can make spells like this, and they'd never make them for witches. We just don't have the money to pay for their work, not to mention they disapprove of many of the things we do with magic, none of which are as big or as fancy as this spell.

On the other side of the open gate is a gently sloping hill with a large, Gothic-inspired house at the top. At first glance it looks like the type of place a spirit would haunt, but there's a great golden phoenix positioned over the double doors, and a sign proclaiming it the Great House. Other structures dot the landscape around the hill, winding paths and soft orange lanterns on poles leading to them. Some look newer than others; these are probably dorms, I'm guessing, or classrooms.

As we take the path up towards the giant main house, the headmaster narrates. "Phoenix Academy was built to keep the then endangered young phoenix of America safe. Though they came to the new country to escape the threat that Grims posed in Germany and France, their enemies followed them, hunting them across the West and finding them in the Native nations they sheltered within."

This part of the story sounds similar to the origin of witches in America, who came across the ocean and found like minds among the spiritual healers of the natives. But it diverges where our kind was slaughtered and driven into hiding, instead of being able to found a school like this.

"Young phoenix needed protection and training so they could learn to use their powers to fight back and hide themselves. They also needed allies. So my great great grandmother struck a deal with three prominent shifter families and built this place, using capital born of a Gold Phoenix's gift to pay mages to bespell it. Since then, we've gone through many upheavals, seen the world around us change, and faced new dangers. You've come to campus just in time for the new semester, which just started, and to see some rebuilding we've done."

The tour continues, Headmaster Towers leading us around the Great House and down paths. There are students milling around some of the dorms she points out, and lounging on a picnic table in the woods; a few of them hide what must be contraband from her eyes, but she seems to pretend not to notice.

One of the buildings that catches my attention is a giant gym with glass walls that's apparently used to train the shifters. It's a single story, high enough to house an elephant—maybe because it needs to from time to time.

The twin without glasses, whose name I haven't caught, jogs up to stroll beside me as the headmaster names each of the dorms.

"We haven't been formerly introduced." He shoves his hand in front of me, and I reluctantly shake it, my palm tingling as my naturalistic senses brush against the panther spirit that lives beneath his skin. "I'm Reggie, shifter extraordinaire, top of my class and future Shield."

I frown. "Shield?"

"Oh, she'll get around to that part of the lecture." He waves vaguely in the headmaster's direction. "One of the reasons why shifters attend this school is to get assigned to be a phoenix's Shield. It's a paid assignment—all kinds of perks. We make sure no one slaughters you."

"Why would shifters do that? It's not out of the goodness of their own hearts," I point out.

"Haven't you heard? Phoenix fire is an aphrodisiac." He waggles his brows, and I roll my eyes. "You're right though, it's not altruistic. Every generation, a Gold Phoenix is born, capable of turning literally anything into gold. The shifter families who send their kids here and offer them up to be Shields get a portion of that gold, which they all invest into the stock market."

Bitter acid rises in the back of my throat. If witches were capable of turning things into gold, maybe we wouldn't have such thin numbers.

"So it's about money."

"Isn't everything?"

I glance back at the other two shifters. The blonde one seems to have given up his glowering in favor of looking bored and irritated.

"And what do you three get for bringing me here—some kind of reward?"

Reggie frowns. "It's our duty. You would've been killed if we left you there like that. That guy was definitely going to come back and finish the job. We stopped him."

"Your friend doesn't look happy about that," I point out, half listening to the headmaster describe the renovations they've apparently done on some kind of watchtower. "That wolf guy acts like I went out of my way to inconvenience you three."

"David has a prickly disposition."

Considering it, I admit, "Well, I did almost shoot his friend. You don't seem that mad about it, though. And he's your brother."

"Oh, him? That's my cousin, Xavier."

I look back and forth between Xavier and Reggie. "You're not cousins. You've got identical faces. Youhaveto be twins."

"Oh, wow." Reggie puts a hand over his heart, an expression of mock outrage on his face. "Just because we're both black, you think we look the same? How racist of you."

I roll my eyes. "Sorry, not falling for it. You'reclearlytwins. And your brother wears glasses so people can tell the difference between you two."

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