Ignite (Phoenix Chronicles Book 1)

Chapter 3: Finny

Marietta Finny, her grey hair bundled in a mess atop her head, put her hands on her stout hips when Phoenix approached the old woman's home--she used it as her schoolhouse, teaching children everything she knew.

To call Finny old would be a gross understatement. The squatty, square figured lady had a leathery look about her. Her wrinkles had wrinkles. Many of the kids had joked through the years about getting lost in the folds of Finny's skin if you weren't careful.

Her age hadn't deteriorated her mind. Instead, her years of experience created a wealth of information, and for the life of her, Phoenix couldn't reason why someone with all of Finny's talents and knowledge would choose the smallest town on the edge of Braskey to impart her gift upon children who, usually, couldn't care less.

"You're late, Laina Knight," Finny said, one brow arched as she stepped aside to allow Phoenix entry. "Not the best way to end your time here."

Phoenix mumbled an apology, her heart sinking as she entered the great room. The other students already sat in a circle, ages ranging from eight to sixteen. Finny didn't allow a child to enter her teaching unless they already knew how to read, write, and work with numbers.

"Now that Miss Knight has seen it prudent to arrive, we can begin." Finny sat in a chair, sitting above all of them as they sat cross legged on the floor before her. She often joked it was the only time she could be taller than everyone else in the room.

A few snickers ran around the classroom, and the older girls shot Phoenix knowing looks of disdain. She lifted her pointed chin, squinting at Finny and ignoring the rest of them.

"Today," Finny said, "we'll be discussing the ancients."

"Ancients?" A fourteen year old boy named Hugh pouted out his lower lips. "What are those?"

A smile quirked Finny's lips. "The sires of Guardians--the stars above. Adonai's first children."

The energy in the room shifted. Where many had slouched, yawned, or stared off at the wall, now bodies straightened, eyes fixed forward, and everyone sat alert. Phoenix stiffened as Finny's gaze fell on her. "Now, the king doesn't want us to discuss such topics. Why do you think that is?"

"Because he doesn't believe they exist?" One of the younger kids suggested.

"No, it's because they aren't around anymore, and are a thing of the past," another student said as he leaned up against the fireplace. "My dad said they belong in the past, and we have to focus on the future."

"Those are interesting thoughts. Anyone else?" Finny glanced around the circle, and though she never spoke up much, Phoenix felt the urge to answer.

"It's because he's afraid of them."

All eyes turned to Phoenix, most widened in surprise to hear her call out an answer, while some narrowed in disagreement.

"King Bainon isn't afraid of anything," Trisha, a girl only a few months younger than Pheonix, said. "He defeated his brother in order to protect all of us from Tarvril's tyranny."

"Tarvril wasn't the monster. Bainon is. That's why we're not allowed to learn anything about anything--why all the books about history are locked up, and why the Army often surprises us with visits in search of any dissenters." The words fell from Phoenix's lips without struggle, and to her surprise, Finny straightened, grinning.

"Very good, Laina."

"Good? How is any of that good? It isn't true!" Trisha flipped her sandy blonde hair over her shoulder, brows furrowed. "We've always been told--"