Page 5 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

"I surrender," I repeated, voice hoarse, "Dad."

* * *

He brought us to a cabin in the woods.

Despite all my begging and pleading, he didn't let Mom or Lizzy go. They fought—as much as a terrified, angry woman and a little girlcanfight—but he just grabbed their wrists and trussed them up like they were Thanksgiving turkeys. He didn't even seem to notice the bullet holes, or the long slice in his thigh where Mom buried his knife. His wounds barely bled, and he dragged us through the woods with his followers at his heels, pace never slacking.

Lizzy whimpered in fear. Mom thrashed and fought, trying to get free from her ropes. I frantically came up with, then immediately discarded, over a dozen plans of escape. I knew that I could use the wildlife of the woods to help me get away and cover my tracks, but if I couldn't takebothLizzy and Mom with me, it wasn't worth it.

We reached our destination: a vacation cabin in the woods. It was absurdly nice, and smelled of freshly brewed coffee. There were cars parked in the driveway. Of course, there were also two bodies piled up by the back door: the vacationers the Heretic killed to take over the place. Their bodies looked like empty shells, no doubt drained of blood.

Lizzy shot me a terrified look. I tried to comfort her, but as I reached over with tied hands to pat her on the head, one of the men grabbed my elbow and jerked me away so hard I nearly sprained something.

"No touching."

They pulled us to what looked like a living room that had been cleared of all furniture. There was a fire burning in the back; a table and its legs were providing the fuel. I realized immediately, with a sick feeling in my gut, that the Heretic planned on putting the bodies of the vacationers on the fire once it was hot enough.

After that, maybe our bodies would burn, too.

He and his followers tied us up in three different corners of the room, anchoring our ropes to large nails they drove into the walls. Mom fought like a hellcat, scratching all up and down the arms of her captor, more out of fury I think than any belief that she'd actually escape his clutches. My heart hurt for her, but I had to concentrate on Lizzy. She was terrified, and only my reassuring gaze seemed to calm her down.

I knew that we weren't going to get out of this together, but I at least wanted her to be calm for the plan I had forming in my head. If nothing else, I was going to make sure my little sister got free of this mad man, even if it cost me everything.

Meeting my mother's eyes as she was anchored into place, I knew she was having the same thought. Both of us wanted to make sure that Lizzy got out of this intact—no matter what.

I watched the Heretic bark orders to his minions. Clean his sluggishly bleeding wounds. Place his tools on the floor in the middle of the room. Coax a fire in the fireplace. Sharpen his knives. He hummed as he worked, voice off-tune, eyes empty.

It disturbed me to know that he was my father.

I tried not to think too hard about the blood that ran through my veins—or where it was about to end up.

Clearing my throat, I got his attention. "Perform the ceremony on me first," I called out, my voice calmer than I felt, forcing myself to sound confident. "I'm the one you wanted, after all."

He looked at me with those pale blue eyes, cocking his head to one side like he was considering my offer. His irises were so light and colorless that they nearly blended in with the whites of his eyes. I shuddered at how much he reminded me of a sick feral animal.

Someone needed to put him down.

Maybe if I distracted him during theceremonyhe wanted to put me through, Mom would be able to escape and destroy him. Guns and knives hadn't worked, but I found myself eyeing the fire in the backyard; I knew Mom had seen it too. Ashes don't come back to life.

"I do need to bleed you," the Heretic said, studying me. "But it wouldn't be fair to let you go through the ceremony without seeing it performed on someone else first. So you're prepared."

My heart did a somersault. He looked over at Lizzy, who whimpered and cowered back from his gaze. Bile rose in my throat.

"Show her how it's done on me." My mother's voice was firm and resolute. "The ceremony will take far longer to perform on someone of my size. It'll be more instructive. Lizzy doesn't have enough blood."

I shook my head, saying, "No, please, don't," but he had a gleam in his lifeless eyes. He instructed his followers to untie Mom from her anchors and splay her out on the floor in the middle of the room.

Then he pulled one of his sharpest knives out and heated it near the fire.

That was when I thrashed against my bonds, desperate to be released, to save her. Mom shook her head at me, murmuring soothing words into the air. Over and over again she lied: "It's going to be okay, Ari, my sweet. Don't worry about me. Worry about your sister."

I told Lizzy to look away.

But I couldn't. I wouldn't. As the Heretic took the knife and bled my mother, as she whimpered and tried not to scream, as the pain overwhelmed her and he made his followers gag her, I watched him. I loathed him. I planned my revenge.

Cut by cut he bled her, holding porcelain bowls beneath her open wounds, taking precious blood from her body. His pale eyes watched her sag and fall into unconsciousness without emotion, like it was nothing. As she turned pale and blue, his followers knelt on the other side of the room and stare at her face.

"You'll see," he said, when I started to cry, certain her heart was no longer beating. "The evil has left her body now. She'll come back to us without magic in her veins."

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