Page 19 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

Another, more sinister truth occurs to me now. If they really were phoenix, then that means their hearts were valuable. Rare. Capable of casting dark magic and bringing the dead back to life. So the witches who rose from the dead might not have disappeared peacefully.

It's quite possible that every single one of them was gruesomely murdered and died a second, more final, death.

Unpleasant thoughts. Quickly, I shuck off my academy pajamas and pull on the uniform, grimacing a little at how short the skirt is. The headmaster told me there are wool stocking for the winter, and pants for girls who want them, but no shorts. As soon as I can get my hands on the clothes I wore here, I'm changing into them, regulations be damned.

There's a knock on my door, and David's impatient voice filters through. I've stalled as long as they'll let me. With a sigh, I rake my hand through my strange new hair one last time, and head out into the hallway to join the trio. Whatever strange new world I've just entered awaits me, and it seems there's paperwork to be done.

Paperwork. A fate worse than burning to death.

* * *

Headmaster Towers has an office on the top level of the Great House. There's a short, ornery-looking blonde girl standing outside the door when we get there. She levels the trio with a withering look, sparing the most scorn for Xavier for some reason.

"I heard there was an incident in the dorms. You didn't start anything, did you David? Because I swear—"

"It wasn't him," Xavier cuts in, sounding slightly irritated. "It was Ari who did it." He belatedly adds, "Not that it was her fault. She just got her powers, what, yesterday?"

I hate being talkedaboutinstead of talkedto,so I cut between the twins and shove my hand out towards the blonde girl. "I'm Ari, the fuck up in question. I kind of... leaked magic this morning. Apparently it comes with being a Blue Phoenix."

"No way." Her eyes widen comically, and she takes me in. "You're a Blue Phoenix? Really? Like, for real, for real?"

"Uh, well, yeah?"

"Awesome." The girl beams at me, grasping my hand in a surprisingly tight handshake. "I'm Petra. Iwasthe headmaster's office assistant. Someone new is supposed to be taking over for me since I just graduated," she shoots Xavier a look, "but my replacement missed training, so here I am. And it was all worth it to meet a legend in the flesh."

"Thanks, I guess?"

"I mean, seriously. No one thought you guys were real. There hasn't been one since..." She trails off, face scrunched up in thought. "Salem, I guess? Most historians wrote them off as a myth, but not our resident researcher. He's always insisted that there has to be a truth behind all the stories. Ocean will be thrilled."

The way she's looking at me, I kind of feel like a fish in an aquarium. I never thought my existence would confirm a legend.

Xavier steps in, frowning down at Petra. "I can take things over from here."

"Not until I've spent a few hours training you, you can't. Now, watch, follow, and listen. Don't try to butt in. I'll bite you."

I'm starting to like this pint sized blonde. As she opens the office door and ushers us in, bringing me forward first, I reach for my naturalistic instincts and probe the area where she's standing for her spirit. I can feel her human side, just like the trio of shifters, but also something else: a wolf.

Unlike David's wolf, which seems to be right at the surface, blurring with his human side, hers is deep asleep. I can almost visualize it: curled up, nose to the tip of its tail, sides moving gently up and down with soft breaths.

Basically, the opposite of feral. Like a fully tamed beast. Based on the size and strength of the spirit, though, I don't want to wake up the wolf. So let's hope I can stay calm during this visit to the headmaster's office. The last thing I need is my wild magic turning all the shifters into predators.

Headmaster Towers is waiting for us behind the desk in her office. The early morning light flares off the crown of her head, setting off the fiery red of her hair. It takes me a moment to realize that the reason why the sunlight is so strong is because of the dome of glass overhead, which lets in heat as well as light.

No doubt that has something to do with her powers; mages tend to pull magic from the elements around them, rather than their own spirit or the spirits of nature like witches. As a former fire mage turned Red Phoenix, the headmaster probably uses the heat and light of the sun to fuel her impossibly red fires.

Which begs the question: what's fueling my blue flames and bluer madness, turning my hair blue and making my eyes glow every time my emotions swing out of control? I crave to know more, even as I fear the answers to my questions, and what it all means.

She turns as we walk in the door, and holds up a mug that has a curl of steam floating above it. The smell of coffee wafts distinctly through the room. "Care for a cup?"

My mouth waters. It's been so long in the wild that I haven't had a proper mug of coffee in months. "Is there any milk or sugar? Preferably both." Guiltily, I admit, "I have a sweet tooth."

Petra says, "I'll make something for you." She nips behind the desk and proceeds to push an array of buttons on some kind of futuristic machine there. "It's easy to break."

Behind me, I can feel the trio of shifters restlessly cross and uncross their arms and stare at the carpet. I want to ask for them to leave, even though something about their presence comforts me ever since this morning, when Xavier somehow effortlessly took on the extra madness my new clumsy powers leaked into the air. Somehow I doubt he'll stick around if David and Reggie go, though, and the wolf's feral, crackled energy is setting my teeth on edge.

"Here you go." Petra hands me the mug over the desk, giving me an excuse to step towards the headmaster and away from the shifters. "Steamed milk, plenty of sugar, and cinnamon on top."

"Thank you." It's sweeter than anything I've eaten in a long, long time, which just makes me homesick for Lizzy. I have to push the feeling down, forcing myself to go to the place in my mind beyond emotion. "That hits the spot."

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