Page 53 of Phoenix Academy: Madness

The magic flows in, settling into every mage-built bone in his body, quickening his heartbeat and animating his flesh. For a moment he teeters on the edge as the madness infects him, pushing him to do violence, to himself or others.

Another moment from the day in the cabin flashes back to me: when I told the man to die eating his own dick. My voice has power over those who have my feral magic inside him. Maybe it can do something here too.

"Tell me your purpose," I say, trying to make my voice sound as commanding as possible. "Speak, spirit. And... do me no harm."

The words are awkward in my mouth, but they feel right, with just enough ritual and order to them to work. As soon as I say them, Gilgamesh begins to settle, his fists unclenching, jaw relaxing, and eyes settling on my face instead of darting around wildly. Letting out a tense, deeply held breath, he takes a small step back and dips his head down.

Then drops his shoulders forward, then his chest, until he'sbowingfrom the waist at me.

There's a deep-throated chuckle from behind me, and I know that David is finding this very amusing. Blushing, I clear my throat and tell him, "There's, uh, there's no need for that. You... you don't have to bow."

"Oh? My apologies." The spirit tilts its head at me as it comes out of the bow, its voice deep and gravelly, and distant as if spoken from within a grave. "I do not know your customs. So much has changed here, but so much is still the same."

Mage Auerbach says, "Fascinating." I look over at him, and he gives me a nod of appreciation, his eyes shining with respect. "A spirit was able to cross over from the spirit realm into the simulacrum's body because of your magic. This isn't the experiment we'd hoped for, but it tells me more about how your magic works, and you've managed to channel and control it. Good job, Ari."

Gilgamesh looks over at his creator with no recognition in his eyes, then back at me. Clearing my throat, I tell Auerbach, "Thanks... I guess. I'm just making it up as I go along." To the spirit, I say, "There was some reason why you crossed over. Something that you wanted to tell us. Hopefully now you can."

"Yes, of course."

He dips his head at me, a lesser form of a bow that he's apparently unable to suppress completely. I shift uncomfortably, aware of the fact that the trio is watching this too, and no doubt David is coming up with a thousand ways to make fun of me for having a devoted follower who bows in my direction.

His deference reminds me uncomfortably of how the Heretic's followers treated him, and makes me wonder if more of him flows through my veins than I ever realized. My mother may have raised me, but the Heretic sired me all the same—and I can't control the parts of me that are like him.

"I have a story to tell," the spirit says, yanking me out of my dark, uncomfortable line of thinking. "It's about the spirits that rest beneath the earth of this place, and the magic that has kept them tra—"

His voice stops in the middle of a word, mouth stuck in the shape of an O, breath leaving his lungs all at once.

Looking at me with wide eyes, he shakes his head slowly.

Then the spirit leaves the simulacrum all at once.

I feel it fly from the mage-made body. Like a cold blast of wind, it goesthroughme as it rushes to the spirit realm. But unlike the ghouls I encountered in the spirit rune, this ghost is friendly, and its touch leaves a few last images in my mind before it's gone.

A coffin deep beneath the earth. A lid that won't move. A line in the dirt that glows with power, as solid as a brick wall, keeping something in or something out.

I don't quite understand the images, and I don't have time to figure them out.

Without the calming influence of the spirit in its body, the simulacrum is nothing but a husk filled with feral magic.

And murderous rage.

There's nothing in the circle for it to set its sights on but me, so it screams with rage and hurtles straight in my direction, determined to crush me to death with its hands. I try to dart back out of the circle, and open my mouth to cut its strings, but before I can it wraps its hands around my neck.

And squeezes until I see stars.

How fast consciousness leaves you when there's no oxygen going to your lungs or brain. My last thought before my knees buckle is: I wonder what that spirit was trying to warn us about.

Then there's nothing.

Chapter 25

My dramatic descentinto unconsciousness doesn't last long. There's a roar of predatory anger, then another, and then I realize I'm on the ground, being dragged out of the rune by two surprisingly strong hands. Mage Auerbach lifts me up by my armpits and leans my back against the wall, kneeling beside me and checking my pulse.

"I'm fine."

Forcing my eyes open, I blink until I can focus on the scene in front of me. The two panther shifters have jumped onto the simulacrum's back and are taking it to the ground, while wolf shifter David is still in human form, pacing the outside of the circle, blood dripping down his arms.

Groaning, I try to lean forward, but Auerbach pushes me back with a frown. "What you did was very dangerous," he says, sounding cross, "and even though I allowed it to happen, I should've stopped you right away. You've been injured—you should stay back."

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