Phoenix Academy - Lucy Auburn Page 0,76

places with ease: places where the holy was once worshipped, but is no longer. Doomed places, that exist even in the middle of the most thriving cities. Walls that have gone to rot and alters that are untended. It's here that his heresy spreads, as he promises people with nothing left to lose another kind of hope, the kind that comes from violence and vengeance.

With my guys at my side, I step through the portal and into the unknown.

The feeling is nausea-inducing and exhilarating all at once. As we walk through the portal, the sound around us changes, as does the smell in the air and the very temperature. The portal closes with a hum of energy, leaving us surrounded by exhaust, asphalt, and the sound of planes flying overhead.

"How the hell is there an abandoned church here, anyway?" David asks, setting a path towards the abandoned building with a gun at his side. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I looked it up," Xavier says, pulling out an article on his phone. "We're technically closer to Elizabeth, New Jersey than anywhere else, and this spot was a park with an old church in it that was in the process of being renovated for future use. Until a chemical spill made it dangerous to live here, and renovation stopped. That's why there's the danger sign and the no trespassing sign. The city is supposed to clean it up and fill it in, but they haven't started cleanup yet. So they put a fence up for now."

"So we're walking into cancer central, then. Great. At least I'll die half a mile from a shopping mall and a hotel."

David doesn't sound daunted, though. He walks the perimeter of the chain link fence and grabs a bolt cutter out of his pack. As he does, Reggie and I take watch; this area is far more developed than the others we've been to, full of possible witnesses. It makes my skin crawl with nerves, but we just have to hope that no one reasonable wants to walk into the middle of a chemical dump.

Of course, once David cuts the chain link fence open and we get closer to the church, it doesn't surprise me to see spray painted tags on the side of it. Teenagers are teenagers, no matter the danger.

The wind around us shifts, and I catch the scent of saltwater on the air. Newark Bay is nearby, where the Atlantic ocean meets a couple of Jersey rivers. There's something about that meeting, of two things alike and unalike, that reminds me of the phoenix magic and witch magic rolling through my veins.

We slow down as we get closer to the church, moving towards the back doors. I don't hear any people inside, or voice raised in fervor. Whatever conversion my father plans on holding here, it hasn't started yet.

Sickly, I wonder if the nearby chemical spill will help him with his work. I can already feel a touch of nausea and light-headedness from breathing the smell in; the saltwater scent is a relief from the noxious chemicals. The Heretic's work has always been easy on the weak, sick, and poisoned.

"Do you smell him nearby?" I ask Xavier, who tilts his nose up towards the wind to try to catch something. "I'm afraid we got here too early. Usually my father's heresy is fairly easy to find, since he bellows at the top of his voice."

"I don't smell much besides the bay... wait. The wind is shifting." He spins on his heel, concentration lining his face, dark brows drawn together. "He's nearby. And... there's something inside. Oh God."

"What?"

If his skin weren't dark, I have the feeling Xavier would've gone pale as a ghost just now. "Inside. There are dead bodies inside the church."

My stomach roils. I know one reason, and one reason alone why the Heretic kills: because he's found witches to bleed dry. I steel myself for what we'll find in the church, certain that I have to look, even though I know the seeing may change me forever.

"Let's go check it out."

"Ari... are you sure?" David's face is lined with concern. "We don't have to—"

"No. I need to see. Need to remind myself of what he's done."

Maybe it'll make it easier to kill him once and for all.

The church door pulls are heavy under my palm. There's a chain wrapping around the handles, but it's been cut, the lock discarded. I pull on the right-hand door, startling as it opens with ease, its