Page 31 of Phoenix Academy: Mayhem

Chapter 9

I shake my head vehemently."No way. You said they'll die if they stay here. I can't leave them behind." My heart leaps as I consider another way. "Won't they be pulled through by my familiar bond if I go through, just like they were pulled down here in the first place?"

"Unlikely." She leaps up off the ground and flits in front of the oak door, touching her tiny golden hand to its carvings. "The bond you speak of is spirit magic. It's strongest in the Spiritual Realm—which might explain why it brought them through with you in the first place. But it will have no effect here in Hell."

Turning to the guys, I tell them, "We'll find another way."

David's eyes are bitter. "And if we don't? Will you just die down here with us? Or will you leave us here when it becomes clear it's the only option?"

"Don't say that." My heart kicks against my chest. "I won't do that. I—I love you."

"When you're drugged you do," he says, turning his face away, his mouth a thin downward-sloping line. "We both know that doesn't apply anymore."

It does, though. Doesn't it? I can't quite seem to put my feeling into words, but I know that there's something there. A deep ache that ties me to him and the others, as undeniable as our bond.

"Xavier, help me out," I plead with him, looking into his warm brown eyes framed by glasses. "You've read so much more about magic than me. Is there some way to maybe... make our bond stronger? So it pulls the three of you through."

His expression turns incredulous. "Ari, this is Hell. I have no answers for you. Maybe... maybe we should consider—"

"You should leave us behind." Reggie's words are forceful and final. "Once you're back home, you can figure out a way to help us. Get together with Dani and do Grim stuff or Black Phoenix whatever-it-is. It's our best chance."

As he says it, though, he sounds far from hopeful. His tone is despondent, his eyes flat. It's clear he doesn't think I'll come back for them—even if I can.

How did things get this muddled? Did we really spend all that time together, laughing and bonding and growing close physically, all for it to mean nothing? I don't understand how that can be possible. Even without the fog of magic, it meant everything to me. I was truly myself with them in that lake. There was nothing to stop me from finally letting go.

Now, though, I wonder if they meant what they said to me. Their words of love may have been nothing but an illusion. My heart breaks all over again, into what feels like a thousand slivers.

"I won't leave you guys behind," I tell them, even as I feel the open, emotional part of me die off, my feelings buried beneath an instinctive protective wall. "I'll find another way. I just have to get in touch with the right people. Nehamae... whatever you're doing, if it won't open the door for my familiars, don't bother. I'm going to dream walk."

She raises a thin, delicate brow at me. "This hardly seems like the time or place."

"Dream walk?" Reggie shoots me a confused look. "What's that?"

"It's a witch's way of dreaming while waking," I tell him, hoping against hope that this will work. "I'm going to... speak to some people in my dreams. It sounds nuts I know, but they're the only ones I can think of who have answers."

Then I sit down on the golden path, cross my legs beneath my skirt, and place my hands on my knees, relaxing them. I sit up straight and take a deep breath in. Let it out slowly. And bit by bit, let the world fade around me.

I ignore Nehamae's grumbling about my foolishness.

Try not to feel David's bitter blue eyes on me.

Or hear Xavier and Reggie walks back down the path a distance and talk to each other in low voices.

I'm going to find a way to get them out of here with me. It's the only thing I can think of to show them how I feel. I just hope that we still have a home together on the other side of Hell.

As my mind settles and my naturalistic senses turn inwards, I feel it. Emptiness. Nothingness. And deep within me, the world of dreams.

* * *

I didn't know if they would come. They didn't seem like the type to be summoned. And truth be told, the last time I saw them they were far from helpful. All they left me with was impotent rage.

But I know that we're tied together. And their wisdom, as frustrating as it is, might be the only thing to help me right now.

Into the empty fog of my dreamworld, four women appear, dressed in ancient clothing, with unnatural blue hair growing straight from their scalp. They're old, each of them with lines on their faces—though the witch from Salem Massachusetts couldn't be older than her mid-forties despite being quite firmly dead.

As they appear before me, I sense the heavy weight of judgment in their eyes. The first, eldest Blue Phoenix says reproachfully, "You have done nothing about the heavy hand keeping the restless dead from moving on."

"Well, you didn't exactly give me any details," I point out, frustration sharp inside me. It's all I can do to keep my temper at bay, reminding myself that feral magic accompanies my anger these days. "Maybe if you'd included a description of this faceless enemy I would've been able to do something."

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