Page 10 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

I hold up my rifle towards them, sighting along the barrel. They're beautiful creatures, but I'll shoot if I have to. Taking a deep breath, I steady my hands and aim at the panther in front, going for a chest shot.

The rifle kicks as I pull the trigger. A round flies down the barrel in what feels like an instant, burying itself in a tree trunk. I missed.

Because the panther moved impossibly fast, and is now so close to me that my heart leaps into my throat. Frantic, I take another shot at him, aiming instinctively—and miss again. He's like a black blur in the undergrowth, tail twitching, showing me his fangs as if he knows that I nearly killed him twice.

There's no time to reload the rifle with the panther so close, so I sling it onto my back, eyeing him and his unusual friends. If they're too fast for bullets, maybe only magic can fight them off.

"Stay away!" I put my hands out in front of me, fingers writhing with glowing blue flames. "I don't know what my magic did to you, but attacking me would be a bad idea."

I have no idea why I'm talking to them. Using my witch magic, I try to reach out and tame them, but their spirits resist my touch. They're fully wild, taken over by the blue beast that tingles beneath my skin.

One of the panthers takes a step forward, a low growl emanating from his throat. I throw my hand out and let the blue flames leap from my fingertips. The panther's glowing blue eyes reflect the vivid fire as he licks the air.

The wolf prowls forward, until it's shoulder-to-shoulder with the panthers, lips peeled back from impossibly white teeth. I canfeelhis rage in the air, as physical as the magic flames sprouting from my palm. There's something off about him, a discordant note that rings through my naturalistic instincts. It's as if he's not supposed to be what he is, or wear the forms of a wolf, which makes no sense.

A twitch goes through the three predators, and I can sense that they're preparing to pounce on me. I don't know what they plan on doing to me, but I do know that it can't be good. Despite whatever new powers I woke up with on the funeral pyre, there's no way I can face them. The only way out of this is for me to distract them long enough to run away—hopefully in the direction of the Heretic and my sister's body.

So I throw the blue flames at them, awkwardly letting them shoot out of my fingers like some kind of novice witch who's never used magic before. My aim is terrible, and the little blue flames go wide and sputter out, but it at least gets the wild wolf to spin on its heels and snap at the air in anger.

Now. This is my chance. Whirling towards the path, I run in the direction of the Heretic, letting the last little bit of the flames spill out of me and burn in the footprints I leave behind. I can feel the predators behind me. For some reason there's an invisible rope that tugs tight between us, yanking them along in my wake. Whatever this strange new magic is, it's taken hold of them. They refuse to give up and leave me be, even as the flames lick at their fur.

It's as if they're something more than simple dumb animals. But no witch has had a familiar in centuries—especially not three large predators. Something else went wrong in the fire. Something is now wrong withme.

I put every bit of rage, anger, and fear into my legs, letting them carry me across uneven ground and soft dirt alike. Desperate, I reach out with my naturalistic senses for somewhere safe to go. Maybe if I climb a tree or duck into a crawl space I can wait out the predators, then take back up my hunt of the Heretic.

My senses don't show me an easy climbing tree or a cave with an entrance too small for a two hundred pound predator to get through. But they do show me something else, something unexpected: a fast-flowing river maybe three hundred feet in front of me, in the direction of the Heretic's footsteps. If I can make it there before the beasts fall on me, I might be able to out-swim them.

After all, panthers aren't known for their diving skills. And I can hold my breath for three and a half minutes. It might be my best way out of here.

I can feel them on my heels. The panther I didn't shoot at is very close, and very angry. There's something about the way his thoughts and feelings skim past me—almost as if he's talking to the other predators with his mind. He doesn't like that I nearly killed his brother.

Brother.Where did that knowledge come from? But somehow I know this: the two panthers are close brothers, the wolf a third they folded into their group for inexplicable reasons. They're communicating with each other somehow, and they're pissed.

My lungs feel like they might burst, and my legs are sore and tired, but I push myself to the very limit. Two hundred feet. One fifty. I'm almost to the river, and as soon as I'm there I can dive in. I'll figure out what's going on with my powers and these three mad predatorsafterI've gotten to safety.

They're gaining on me.

I can hear the river's distant current.

Hundreds of pounds of muscle with fangs and fur are close on my heels.

The trees part. I can taste water in the air. Within sight, just around the curve, is the thick bank of a fast-moving river.

But my heart plummets, because while it's within sight, the river is at the bottom of a very tall cliff. I didn't sense the drop-off with my magic, in all the chaos. It's enough to seriously injure me, maybe even worse.

I can't stop now, though. Not only are the panthers and the wolf close enough to pounce and kill me if I slow down, but now that I'm close I see something on the riverbank that I have to follow: a boat with three passengers inside. One of them is untying the boat's rope from its hook on the shore, while the other two have a blanket-wrapped package slung between them that's about the size of a twelve-year-old girl.

The Heretic and his remaining followers are carting my sister's body down the river so they can perform disgusting rituals on what's left of her and use her powerful witch spirit to call to the beyond.

I can't let that happen. My mother was denied a witch's burial, but my sister will get one if it's the last thing I do.

I run the last few feet to the river's drop-off, where two rushing streams join together to spill over a cliff to the pool far below.

Vertigo hits me as I lean forward, looking towards the water far below.

There's no time to think.

I barely look before I leap.

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