Phoenix

I walked down the locker-lined hall toward the cafeteria, and the walls seemed to blur. The lockers changed from light blue to forest green, oscillating from smooth-fronted metal to needled pines.

The light disappeared in a blast of cold.

“Phoenix,” Lexia said, reaching forward to take shake my shoulder. Pale light colored the horizon and I sat up. “Are you…well?” she asked.

She had not meant to say “well”. The word I almost heard was “here”. Lexia knew. How could she not? She could walk my mind at will.

I freed myself from my blankets and stood, stretching toward the sky. I was tired. I rolled my shoulders and took a deep breath of the frigid air. I needed to ready Might for the day, but I watched Lexia run a hand down Princess’s white blaze. Loss blazed through my heart.

How do you know she’s not real?

The breath shuddered into my body.

“The dead never leave us,” I whispered. “Nothing so inconsequential as death can break the bonds that love forms.”

“That is beautiful,” Eremil said, tying Cinder to a tree. The mare turned to bite at him and he glared at her. She contented herself with pawing at the ground. “Will you be reciting poetry as you lead us today? Did you bring your lute?”

“Shut it,” I said. Eremil smiled at me, mockingly. I tried very hard not to hit him.

“Is that the dawn?” Eremil asked, pointing with his chin toward the cold line of bright light that pressed up against the dark horizon.

“It is so weak,” I said, getting to my feet.

“It will get weaker,” Lexia warned, lifting her saddle to Princess’s back. “The Darkness has begun to deceive Light.”

I blinked at the light, my eyes tearing. The world seemed to spin, just a little bit, and then it wasn’t forest and horses and my friends. Only, it was my friends.

Pete and Jewel waited for me outside the cafeteria.

“You okay?” Pete asked. “You look a little sick.”

“I’m fine. “ I dodged. I didn’t want to admit that I had been lost in a fantasy. I especially didn’t want to admit that it had seemed incredibly real. “I’m just thinking about having the special for lunch.”

“Don’t do it,” Jewel said. “I heard it’s made of dogs.”

“You did not,” I said.

“Do you think we could start that rumor?” Jewel asked, her eyes sparkling. “If we tried really hard?”

“I don’t think we’d have to try that hard,” Pete said, examining the brownish-reddish pile of glop on his plate.

Jewel took a salad and I grabbed a hamburger. We paid and sat at our usual table next to the window.

“So,” Jewel said, “How did it go?” She dragged a fork through her salad. It didn’t look very fresh.

“What?” Pete asked, “How’d what go?” His mouth was full of the ominous special and a little leaked from the corner of his lip. He looked from me to Jewel.

I had to think about what she meant for a minute. Now that seeing Lexia everywhere had morphed into elaborate daydreams, it was getting hard to keep things straight. I finally remembered what Jewel was talking about: going to the shrink.

“It was great,” I said. “Mostly we talked about how my friend draws these sick cartoons about stick figures.”

Jewel rolled her eyes.

“Is that your not-so-subtle way of telling me it’s none of my business?” she asked.

I took a bite of my hamburger. It was pretty gross. It seemed wrong, somehow, to eat something that had walked around. I thought of the vegetables and beans and fruit I’d eaten in the fantasy. That seemed so much more appealing somehow.

“You gonna play with us today?” I asked Jewel.

Pete had already pulled his Magic cards from his backpack and was shuffling his deck between bites. A card floated to the top of the deck. It looked a lot like Jewel. Well, it looked a lot like Jewel if she was an elf.

She rolled her eyes again.

“You guys are such dorks,” she said. “Why do I hang out with you, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I told her honestly, retrieving my own deck. “Maybe because you like dorks?”

“Well, I like you,” she said, smiling, her green eyes sparkling as she looked into mine.

Pete choked. Jewel turned bright red.

“I mean, I like you guys,” she said, throwing an arm around Pete. “You know, as friends.”

“Yup,” I said, pretending to be interested in my cards. I felt my ears burning, but I had to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “You like me.”

“I’ll see you in June’s class,” she said, extricating herself from the table’s bench. “I’ve got to hit the library for a few.”

“Okay, see ya,” I said. Pete gave a salute.

“So,” he said, his eyes cutting to Jewel as she walked away. “You and Jewel?” I felt my cheeks burn red.

“Weren’t you the one who said Lexia kissed you?” I asked. It was his turn to turn red. I laid some blue Manna on the table and tapped it.

“Yeah, so?” he said. “It’s not like I’m ever going to get another kiss.”

Suddenly, I didn’t want to play Magic.

“I just remembered something,” I said, standing abruptly. My chair fell over. “I’ve got to turn this paper in to Mr. Black before lunch is over.”

“Hey,” Pete said, leaning back in his chair. His face mirrored my pain. “I didn’t mean to bring her up. I’m sorry.”

“No,” I lied, tucking my cards into my backpack. “It’s not that at all. I really forgot about this paper. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Pete nodded.

I left the table and went outside. My breath made curling wisps in the cold. A ring of smokers puffed away just outside the school grounds. They looked like a camp fire from this far away.

“This is a strange place,” Lexia said. I turned to look at her. She stood beside me in the cold sunlight, kitted out in leather as she had been in my fantasy. Her hair glistened.

“Are you really here?” I asked. She looked at me with her silver eyes. Her elf-ears poked up through her long, straight, platinum hair.

“Are you?” she asked, her eyes intent. Her ranger leathers shone in the sun.

I turned to look at the smokers again.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I feel so disconnected from everything since you died.”

“I’m not dead,” she said, her brows drawing down.

“Yes, you are,” I disagreed. “You died in a fire.

“You would never let me die in a fire,” she said, half smiling.

“But I did,” I said, looking at my flame-scarred hands. “I couldn’t save you.”

“Phoenix,” she said. “You are the Lord of Fire, the Master of Flame. No fire could destroy what you wished to save. You are Phoenix the Scarred.”

“I’m Phoenix the Freaking Crazy,” I said, pushing my palms into my eye sockets.

“This place, this world, is not our world,” Lexia said. “I do not know how she has brought you here, or why, but it is false. Can you not feel it?”

“I don’t feel anything,” I said. Cold seeped into my bones.

“The Darkness is in your mind,” Lexia said. “None of this is real.”

“Quit saying that!” I yelled. “Quit saying that and quit coming around! Just go to Heaven or whatever you need to do to leave me alone.”

Two girls giggled behind their hands as they walked by.

“Freak,” I heard one say.

“Cute freak,” the other replied. “Too bad.”

I took a deep breath through my nose. The cleansing scent of pine and the earthy scent of horses brought me back to myself.

“Are you alright?” Eremil asked. He placed the saddle on Cinder’s back. The sky was empty. No clouds drifted. No birds sang. It was utterly empty.

“I am disoriented,” I said. “It is nothing. Yesterday was difficult and today will not be any better. We must ride,” I said, turning to finish saddling Might.

Lexia was suddenly at my side, her silver eyes wide with concern. She did not say anything, but her eyes bored into me.

“I’m fine,” I told her.

Her lips pressed together, but she remained as silent as the forest around us. She went to finish readying her horse.

Eremil grumbled while saddling Cinder. The mare pinned her ears and tried to bite when he pulled the girth tight. Eremil punched her in the nose. Then she stood perfectly still, waiting till he mounted.

I secured the last pannier onto the pack horse and Lexia swung up on Princess. The mare shook as though trying to dislodge a fly. Lexia laughed and patted the mare’s red neck.

Might spun in slow circles as I tried to mount.

“Are you ever going to teach that horse to hold still?” Eremil laughed.

“I am sorry, friend,” I said. “Might does not enjoy rough treatment. Punching his nose would probably make him run away.”

“Coward,” Eremil said to Might.

“If he was two hands shorter, it would not be such a problem,” Lexia laughed. Princess stood as still as a stone when she mounted.

“Daylight is wasting,” I said, finally settling in the saddle. How could they find levity in anything? Our world was falling into darkness. Every second drew us toward a moment in which there would be no light.

Lexia closed her eyes, putting her hands before her and drawing in the feel of her magic.

“This way,” she said. Princess turned without rein toward Mount Blade’s snowy peak.

“This will be fun,” Eremil said.

The sun rose high in the sky as Lexia led us up the foothills. It seemed we would climb right to the jagged peak. Snow covered the ground, a thick layer undisturbed.

“All the way up, I think,” she whispered.

“Onward,” I said. “I hope it is a pass and not an impasse.”

Princess obediently moved forward, heeding her rider’s wishes. Might fell in behind her with Cinder and the pack horse taking up the rear.

Trees braided themselves together over the narrow trail. I constantly ducked to avoid their branches as Might labored through the snow. Lexia laughed at me.

“Two hands shorter, brother,” she called. She did not have to duck at all.

I dismounted when we came to a wide stream. The thirsty horses plunged their noses into the icy water, drinking. Kneeling beside the stream carefully upstream from the horses, I scooped water into my hand, tasting it before I drank. I closed my eyes against the cold.

Mother led us deep into the fortress, her sky-blue dress draping the stairs as she descended. I held my fist as a torch. The magic in me was new to me, and exciting in its newness. I felt everything in terms of how it could feed my magic. The stone steps would provide so much energy, but the fire would have to be very hot to unlock it. None of us would live through it.

“Phoenix,” Mother said over her shoulder. “Stay focused, son. We have a purpose.” I looked ahead, chagrined.

“I do not think we should be doing this, Phoenix,” Lexia said. Her silver eyes glimmered with fear, but she followed Mother just as I did. “I do not think this is the way, forcing the Scepters. I am not certain I can.”

“The queen believes you can,” Lucius whispered. “We must try. For Eloria.”

We came upon the heavily guarded antechamber and the soldiers saluted their queen. Mother nodded graciously in receipt of their honor. Mother’s hand trembled as she grasped the great brass ring to pull the door open. The door swung silently open and we entered the chamber.

I expected to feel something unusual as we approached the Scepters shining in their stands. Light’s golden length caught my eye, glowing warm and rich in the light of my soul. I felt nothing besides the now ever-present desire to set fire to everything I saw. Mother moved toward Hope’s crystalline length, reaching for it. Her slim hand hovered just above it, hesitant to touch the Scepter.

“I feel nothing, my Queen,” Lucius said, folding his arms across his chest. Lexia stood behind him, a shadow watching with silver eyes. “It is just as it was before. This room might be empty for all it matters to me.”

Mother did not seem to hear him.

“What do I need to do to convince you?” she said to the Scepter, so quietly I almost did not hear. She caressed its crystalline length. “Do you not see? We are one. You carry within you the power to awaken the magic of the elves, and I seek to save my people. Awaken for me, Hope. Bond with me. Together we will save the elves.”

“My Queen,” Lucius said nervously. His posture portrayed his discomfort. Something about what Mother was doing seemed supremely wrong. I knew then, that this was not the way. Lucius knew it too. “Let us depart this place. Let our people live their final days in peace, without false hope to sully it. The Scepters will not awaken for the elves of Eloria. Perhaps it was never meant to be.”

“False hope?” Mother asked, turning to him. “False?” The room turned cold. “How am I false, Lucius? I would give anything to bring about the Golden Age. I would have sacrificed my own son.”

“My Queen,” Lucius said, backing slowly away from my mother, “something is happening here that I do not fully understand, but I do understand the feeling in my heart. We should leave this place.”

“Not until it accepts me,” Mother said, turning back to the Scepter.

“You would have killed Phoenix,” Lexia said, stepping forward to stand beside Knowledge. “But I do not think that would have been enough.” Mother looked over her shoulder.

“What do you know, daughter?” she asked, her silver eyes flashing. “You are but a child.”

“I am a child, Mother,” Lexia said. Knowledge seemed to glow beside her, but perhaps it was a trick of the light. “But I do know what is right. Killing your son to reach your goals; that would not have been right. That would have been nothing but murder.”

“What?” Mother asked. The flames around my hand wavered. Who was I to protect? My mother, or my sister? Where did my loyalty lie? I wished that I had never had to make the choice. But there was Mother, tall and strong, formidable. And Lexia was, as she said, just a child. A child with magic, but a child still. She was the one who needed my protection. I inched closer to her.

“Murder,” Lexia said. “It would have been murder for you to kill Phoenix in your pursuit of the Scepters. And that cannot be the way.”

“No,” Mother said. “Magic takes sacrifice. I would have sacrificed him, if need be. But I did not have to. It was not required. He gained his magic so that we four could come here and awaken the Scepters. It is what must be.”

“The only person one can sacrifice is oneself,” Lexia said. “A sacrifice has to be made willingly. You tricked him—“

“Be silent, child,” Mother snapped. “Either help me or be silent.”

“You are not worthy of the Scepter,” Lexia said to Mother. Lucius put a hand on Lexia’s shoulder. She looked up at him and he nodded. They turned to leave the room.

“Not worthy?” Mother shrieked, rounding on them. “Me? Not worthy? Who are you to judge me, Lexia? What wisdom do you possess?”

“The wisdom of a child, my Queen,” Lucius said. He moved to position himself between Lexia and Mother. “We were wrong to come here.”

“Wrong?” Mother hissed. “I am the hope of Eloria, the hope of all the elves. I am one of only four magic wielders left in our world.” She seized the Scepter, ripping it from the stand which clattered to the floor. “Wake up!” she shouted, shaking it. “Wake up you worthless piece of crystal!” She banged the Scepter against the wall, and we all jumped. “What good are you, sitting in this stupid room, sitting in that stupid stand!” She slammed the crystal Scepter into the stone wall again, and a bit of stone flaked off. “You have to save my people! You have to help me save my people!” She battered the walls with the crystalline Scepter.

“Sominette!” Lucius shouted, stepping toward her. “Stop this! You did not come here to destroy Hope.” But she did not stop, if anything her fury increased and she raged. She swung the Scepter brutally into the stone walls, knocking the other Scepters from their places. Lexia clung to me, burying her head in my shoulder.

Lucius looked at us for just a moment and then closed his eyes and went very still. Mother convulsed and stopped her insane battering. She carried the Scepter back to the stand, moving as though she was fighting herself. Stiffly, she put the Scepter down. Jerkily, she righted herself and stood still. All the while, Lucius stood motionless, eyes closed, breathing slowly.

“Burn the Scepters!” Mother said, looking down at me with gleaming silver eyes. Her body was still not within her control, but the words escaped. “Melt them, Phoenix. Absorb them. It is the only way.”

I nodded. I could do it. But the fire would have to be very hot. The fire from my fist grew.

“Stop this, Mother!” Lexia said. “Do not ask this of him!”

I licked my lips, which were growing parch in the heat. Maybe, if I burned them…

“Phoenix,” Lexia said, laying her hand on my arm. “Do not believe her!”

Father entered the Scepter room then, his green eyes flashing anger. Dugban, Eremil’s father, trailed after him. He was a head shorter, but more than twice as wide as an elf, as most humans were. He entered the room and seized Mother’s arms, holding her firmly as she struggled. Father took Lucius by the shoulders, pulling him away from me. Lucius backhanded Father across the face, and Father doubled over. He straightened quickly though, a trickle of blood running down from his nose.

“Sominette,” Father said, looking at Lucius, “Stop this.”

Lucius blinked once, and then his eyes turned from enchanted silver to their natural black. Mother’s struggles strengthened and even Dugban seemed to have trouble restraining her.

“My King,” Lucius gasped, going to one knee and bowing his head. “It was a mistake. We never should have come here.”

Father placed a hand on Lucius’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Lucius looked up.

“It is well, my friend,” he said, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. “Take the children and leave this place.”

“No!” Mother shouted. “No. It is the only way. We must save Eloria! Can you not see it?”

“I can see only one way to protect the Scepters,” Father said. Lucius’s warm hand rested on my shoulder, propelling me toward the doorway. “I must keep you away from them, Sominette.”

“What?” Mother asked. “I am the hope of Eloria. I will bring about the Golden Dawn.”

“You are out of control, wife,” Father said. “You burned our son. You move behind my back, against my express wishes. You are trying to destroy the Scepters.”

“No!” Mother protested. “I am working to save Eloria. You sit motionless, King of a wasting country. I have awakened Phoenix’s power so there would be enough magic bearers to bond the Scepters. You do nothing, and I create the magic user we need. There are four of us now. I can make the Scepters accept us. I am going to save Eloria. I will--”

“No, Sominette,” Father said gently. “What you are doing will bring about the end you so fear.”

“I can save us, Elandril,” Mother said. “I can.”

“No,” Father said, turning away from her. He looked at me. All the loss in the world showed in his face. He loved my Mother. I knew he did. And yet… “Our sacred duty is to guard the Scepters until the magic wielders appear, Sominette.”

“But I can do it, Elandril,” Mother said, coming up behind him to wrap her arms around his chest. “I can.”

“You are obsessed,” Father said, turning and pushing mother away. “You are beyond reason. You were right about Phoenix, that the fire would awaken his power, but what if you were not? Would you have killed our son? Where will you draw the line?”

“I will stop when Eloria is safe,” Mother said, smiling.

“No,” Father said, “You will stop now.”

“I cannot stop trying,” Mother protested. “I am Queen of Eloria.”

“Not anymore,” Father said. “You must leave. Never return. I will not see your face again, my love. Never again.”

I felt so lonely as I walked home by myself, taking the back way through the cul-de-sac to the back end of our property by the horse corral. Princess didn’t whinny as I approached, but she did hang her white-striped face over the top rail of the corral. It felt strange, like I should be somewhere else.

It was strange how I could go from seeing Lexia everywhere and hating it, to not seeing her and missing her. I reached up to pet Princess and she pinned her ears, jerking her head back. I kept looking for her, kept hoping to hear her voice.

And she didn’t come.

I checked Princess’s water and fed her. The red mare dug into the hay like she hadn’t eaten in days, not even waiting for me to get it all the way over the fence before ripping into it with her teeth. I stood there watching her for a while, trying to understand why this all felt so weird. This was real life, normal life. But it seemed so foreign, so contrived. I watched the mare eat, thinking how the corral looked empty with just one horse in it. Why was I looking for another horse?

Might.

Why couldn’t I just be happy with real life? Why did I have to look for something else?

I waited for Lexia to appear, but she didn’t come, and I was cold.

Smoke curled up from the chimney of my house up the hill. I didn’t know how Mom did it. I could sit by the fire after it was made, safely tucked away behind the stove’s glass door. But there was no way on earth I’d ever be able to light a match again.

I hated fire. I hated the way it consumed everything. I hated the way it left me alone and scarred.

I pulled the sliding glass door open and walked in. King lay stretched out full length on the carpet just past the hearth before the fire.

“Hey Dogbreath,” I said. He wagged his stubby tail in response.

I turned on Netflix and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I nestled down in Dad’s Lay-z-boy to escape into anime. I chased marshmallows around my bowl, watching the way they left streams of color behind them in the white milk.

The people who leave our lives are like that, I thought thinking of Lexia. They leave traces of themselves behind, stains on our souls. Just as magic scars us and defines us.

I couldn’t focus on the show I was trying to watch. It was some big-eyed girl giggling and being cute and using a magic scepter to become someone else. I switched it off and went to take a bath. Maybe I would feel better if I was warmer. As the water ran in the tub, I looked out the bathroom window into the darkness, and everything seemed to shift. I felt as if I were spinning, the world moving in and out of focus. And then it was gone, replaced by that other place, my other self.

Lexia’s sharp silver eyes met mine.

“Where do we go from here?” I asked. They were the right words. But I felt disoriented, as though I had not be listening and was now called upon to answer. We had dismounted for a moment, letting the horses graze the sere grasses. Lexia cast her hands out in front of her, feeling the air, the passage of magic.

“Up,” she said, her eyes drifting up the increasingly narrow path. I felt as though we might climb forever.

“Of course,” Eremil said, bending to touch his toes. He twisted at the waist, moving this way and that, working the saddle stiffness from his body.

We mounted again our horses, and began the climb through pine and aspen. The horses gasped for breath as they slogged through belly-deep snow and we journey slowly in the silence. After a time, Lexia spoke.

“We are being followed,” Lexia said.

“Who?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.

“Creatures of the dark,” Lexia warned, looking worriedly over her shoulder and then to the dim sky. “The reign of the Darkness begins.”

A wolf howled into the crisp air. The sound grated. It was not a normal howl, not a normal sound. Fury tinged the howl like copper in a fire, coloring the flames unnaturally.

Silent on their padded feet, a huge pack of wolves slinked through the trees all around us. The howl sounded again above the low bass rumble of growls coming from their throats. Might danced beneath me. I dropped my reins, limbering my bow and knocking an arrow. From the corner of my eye, I saw Eremil draw his axes.

“Can you do nothing, Princess?” Eremil asked. The wolves circled closer. Cinder tossed her head, up and down, anxious but waiting for Eremil to give her leave to run.

“I cannot!” Lexia said. “The Darkness controls them. All. The grasp she has on them is so strong! How can she be so strong?”

I helped her learn it, I thought.

“Run!” Lexia shouted and Princess bounded away.

Then the wolves were on us, running lightly through the snow where the horses slogged. The steel in Eremil’s hands tore bloody gashes into pelts of gray and brown and black, leaving sprays of vibrant red on the snow. I shot quick and sloppy, not able to take my time aiming. Wolves fell, cleaved by Eremil’s axes or with arrows protruding from shoulders and backs, but always with yips and barks and yelps. And more came. Had the Darkness gathered every wolf in Eloria?

“We are overrun,” Eremil grunted. He was right. The bow was done. I dropped it and threw myself from the saddle, landing nearly waist deep in the snow. Puffs of white billowed around Eremil as he too dropped to the ground. Might and Cinder raced away, drawing a few wolves after them, and Eremil twisted the axes in his hands.

My hands burned, my magic ready to be used. Fire leapt into being, burning its way through the wolves. Charred flesh and burnt hair smoked into the dim sky. I turned my face away from their acrid scent, closing my eyes against the sooty wind. There was that twisting again, a dizziness that spread quickly. The smell of burning wolves was gone.

Blinking, I stared at myself in the mirror, though it was a face I hardly recognized. I didn’t look right with my dull orangeish-brownish eyes which were just the same sunset color as my hair. My skin was pale, speckled by faded freckles. I didn’t look healthy, and that made me a little glad. I should look on the outside like I felt on the inside, lost and cold. Steam rose from the water filling the bath tub and I wiped it from the mirror with my hand before I got in the tub.

The water was scalding hot. Hotter than I could stand, but I didn’t care. Steam poured off the rising surface of the water. I lowered myself carefully into the water, watching it redden my pale skin.

I closed my eyes, wishing I could relax, but I only got colder. The smell of burning hair and flesh pounded back into my nose.

Lexia’s scream pierced the sooty smoke of burning wolves. I remembered that sound from another time that smelled of smoke. I had to save her this time. I could not let her down again. But I could not move. Fear stalled my feet.

Eremil stared at me with panicked blue eyes. His broad hand clasped tightly around the hafts of his bloody-headed axes. Blood and hair smattered his face. His chest heaved with hard breaths.

Another scream sounded beyond the trees, freeing me from my immobility.

“Lexia!” I yelled, bounding through ancient, twisted briars. Eremil tore into the brush, cursing and swinging his axes.

“Burn it, Phoenix!” he shouted, wrenching his axe from a tree. “Clear the path!”

Fire shot from me before I consciously summoned it, blue-white flames clearing a path, melting the snow. Howls rode the smoke rising into the sky and I ran on scorching feet toward my sister’s screams. Miraculously, Eremil kept pace, trailing smoke behind him.

We pushed through the charred undergrowth to see Lexia clinging to the lowest branch of a tree. The horses circled below the branches. Princess kicked and kicked, sending wolves flying. Might worried a wolf caught in his jaws, shattering the animal’s spine as he viciously shook it to death. And Cinder struck with front hooves, screaming and striking. The three horses working in unison were a grisly sight, but still not enough to stop the waves of wolves pouring into the clearing like a river overrunning its banks.

Only one thing could stop them.

Fire.

I held up my hand as a focus point, preparing to destroy the animals.

“Phoenix!” Eremil screamed. I turned to the sound just in time to catch the jaws of an enormous black wolf with my forearm. Eremil cleaved the head from the body of the wolf as its teeth raked into my bones. I fell with the wolf as fire tore through the pack of wolves. Some exploded in great bursts of awful, others merely fell to ash. The clearing became a great swirling vortex of fire and hair and stench. The snow liquefied and ran away.

Why am I so dizzy? I wondered. Black spots made dancing silver spots behind my eyelids.

My eyes blinked open and I saw that most of Lexia’s things still adorned the edges of the tub. I picked up her shampoo and smelled it. Instantly, I was transported to the day I let her talk me into riding Princess with her. My nose was buried in her hair for most of that ride.

The water, I thought. It’s too hot. I leaned forward to unstop the drain. The water was pinkish.

What?

“Phoenix!” Lexia screamed.

I jumped at the sound of her voice, my fuzzy brain barely able to put together what dizziness and pink water meant. I grabbed my wrist. It was slick with blood.

Clarity slammed into me.

“Oh crap, Lexia,” I said, jumping from the tub. “Do you know what this is going to look like?” I wrapped a towel around myself, blood dripping from my fingertips. So much blood. “Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! This is so stupid!”

“Phoenix,” Mom said, knocking on the door. “Are you okay in there?”

I realized I’d been shouting.

“Yeah, Mom,” I called. My eyes felt fuzzy. It was hard to stand.

I will not let my mother see me stupid and naked, I told myself.

“What just happened?” I shouted, bleeding everywhere.

I pulled my pants on. Mostly. Then I collapsed onto the toilet in the steamy hot bathroom.

The door lock popped open. Mom apparently didn’t believe me about being okay.

I kind of wished she did.

“Stop the bleeding,” Lexia said, worry painting her elven face. I could see her and not see her. She stood with me in the bathroom. She hung from the branches of a tree across a scorched clearing in the woods. She was in both places, at the same time.

But where was I?

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked. My words were slurry. I caught a hint of my pale face in the foggy mirror. It looked so far away. “Cauterize it?”

“Yes,” Lexia said. She was still across the clearing from Eremil and me, but her voice sounded as though she spoke in my ear. Eremil’s broad hand clasped tightly around my jagged wound, trying to hold in my blood. Crimson seeped around his thick fingers.

“I will take care of it,” I said. Eremil nodded and removed his hand. Blood rained down and I released my magic, searing the wound shut. It would be another flame scar to add to my collection. My head swam.

What makes you think she’s not real?

“Phoenix!” Mom screamed. Then she was running for the phone. I heard her crying frantically into the receiver.

My vision grew fuzzier.

Then the bathroom disappeared.