Goody Magic Academy, Year Three

Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

I staggered through the swamp, each step sending shockwaves of pain through my battered body. The muggy air clung to my skin, heavy with the stench of decay and smoke from the burning church. My bare feet slapped against the muddy ground, bringing fresh torment whenever sticks and broken twigs tore at my flesh.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish that wracked my soul. The image of Jaxon’s lifeless face flashed before my eyes with every blink. The sound of Raven’s agonized shrieks echoed in my ears, drowning out the squelch of mud and the rustle of leaves as I pushed through the undergrowth.

When I felt I had put a safe distance between myself and the nightmarish scene at the church, I stopped. I was panting heavily and my lungs burned, each breath tasting of smoke and failure. With a thought that felt more like surrender than decision, I shifted into my dragon form.

The transformation was swift, but each crack and pop of changing bone sent fresh waves of guilt crashing through me. As I leapt into the air, my wings slicing through the heavy swamp air, I felt like a coward. A failure. The wind whipped past me, cooling the tears that streamed unchecked down my scaled face.

Jaxon was dead. The reality of it hit me anew with every beat of my wings. Raven was about to be murdered, her beautiful silver scales forever dulled. My parents remained prisoners with who knew what fate in store for them. All because I had handed over the Dragon Nexus. Guilt over my mistake cut into my soul.

I flew as fast as my battered body would allow, pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion. The landscape blurred beneath me, a vague smear of green and brown giving way to the familiar sights of New Orleans until finally Red Rose Academy with its manicured lawns and stately buildings came into view.

As I descended, I noticed a flurry of activity in front of the headmaster’s quarters. A group had gathered, their faces turned skyward as they watched me approach. Among them stood a figure that made me blink in surprise, wondering if exhaustion was making me hallucinate.

It was a tall, muscular man with long dark hair, but what really caught my attention were the golden wings that sprouted from his back, shimmering in the sunlight. A Golden Demon? I had heard of them in my lessons at Goody Magic but seeing one live and in person was something else entirely.

On my final approach I heard Kamaron’s excited voice cut through the murmur of the crowd. “It’s Peyton!” he called out, pointing up at me. His enthusiasm was like a knife to my heart, twisting with guilt and shame.

I landed and shifted into my human form. Then I just stood there feeling like a complete failure, naked and blood-stained, my body bearing the marks of the terrible ordeal I had just escaped. How could I tell them? How could I look into Kamaron’s eager face and explain that Jaxon was dead, Raven had been captured, and my parents were still in peril, all because of my mistakes?

It all came crashing down on me, and my knees buckled momentarily. Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, threatened to overwhelm me. As the crowd surged forward, concern gradually replacing excitement on their faces, I struggled to find the words to explain the catastrophe I had unleashed.

As I stood there, naked and trembling, Finn emerged from the crowd and raced toward me, his eyes wide with concern. “Peyton… What happened?” His voice was tight with worry.

A crowd quickly formed around us, their bodies pressing close, trapping the humid air and intensifying the scent of sweat and fear. I was acutely aware of my nakedness, my skin prickling under the weight of their stares, but this time I couldn’t bring myself to care. My gaze remained locked on Finn’s worried eyes, seeing my own anguish reflected there.

“Finn...” My voice cracked and the words stuck in my throat, choking me. I swallowed hard, tasting bile and the lingering metallic tang of blood. “He’s dead.” As the admission tore from my lips it unleashed a torrent of sobs that racked my entire body.

Finn’s arms were around me immediately, his touch both comforting and agonizing. The warmth of his skin against mine was a painful reminder of the life still flowing through his and my veins, life that had been ripped from Jaxon. “Who is, Peyton?” Finn’s voice was gentle but insistent. “Who is dead?”

“Jaxon,” I managed to choke out between sobs. My fingers dug into Finn’s arms, anchoring myself as the world tilted and spun around me again. “Ari killed him. And the high priestess has the Dragon Nexus.” The words felt like shards of glass as they tumbled from my throat.

Finn stiffened for a moment as he processed the horrific news. Then, in one fluid motion, he swept me up and cradled me in his arms. The movement sent fresh waves of pain through me, but I barely registered my battered body’s protests through the haze of grief.

As Finn carried me toward the house, excited voices erupted around us. The cacophony of exclamations blended into an indistinguishable roar in my ears. Every so often I caught snippets—“What happened?” “Is that blood?” “Where’s Jaxon?” Each question was another dagger to my heart.

I buried my face in Finn’s chest, unable to face the shock and horror I knew I’d see in everyone’s eyes. His heartbeat thundered in my ear, a steady rhythm completely at odds with the chaos swirling inside me. The scent of him—a mix of soap and something uniquely Finn—momentarily overshadowed the lingering smells of blood and smoke that clung to me.

As we crossed the threshold into the house, the cooler air inside raised goosebumps on my naked skin. I still couldn’t stop shaking, my body wracked with sobs that came from the very core of my being. The grief was overwhelming, a tidal wave that threatened to drown me.

Memories of Jaxon’s last moments flashed before my eyes—his smile, his look of determination as he protected me from Balthazar, the light fading from his eyes as the blade pierced his chest. Each image was a fresh wound, tearing at my already shredded heart.

I was only vaguely aware of Finn lying me down on something soft—whether a bed or a couch, I couldn’t tell. The voices around me continued, urgent and worried, but they seemed more distant now, as if coming from underwater. All I could focus on was the crushing knowledge of the lives lost or endangered because of my choices and actions.

As darkness began to creep in at the edges of my vision and Finn held me close, one thought echoed through my mind: I had failed. I had failed them all.

I sobbed in his arms until sleep overcame me.

As consciousness slowly returned, I found myself wrapped in a comforting, familiar aroma. My eyes fluttered open: I was in the room where Jaxon had claimed me. His scent still lingered on the covers, a bittersweet reminder of what I’d lost that hit me like a physical blow, forcing the air from my lungs.

Hot tears welled up, stinging my eyes as I curled into a tight ball. My muscles protested, still sore from the ordeal, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the wrenching ache in my chest. Each breath felt like I was inhaling shards of glass, my ribs tight around my shattered heart.

In a nearby chair, Finn’s soft snores punctuated the heavy silence. His presence was both a comfort and a source of guilt, another reminder of the pain I’d caused.

A gentle knock at the door startled me, sending a burst of adrenaline through my system. “Peyton?” Kamaron’s voice, tinged with concern, drifted hesitantly through the wood.

I swiped at my tear-stained cheeks, wincing when I realized how tender my skin still was. “Y-yes?” I managed to croak out, my voice raw and unfamiliar even to my own ears.

“I brought you some peppermint tea. Thought you might like some.”

The thought of the soothing warmth made me acutely aware of how parched I was. My throat felt like sandpaper and my eyes burned, swollen from crying. “Thank you, that would be nice,” I replied, the words scratching their way out.

Kamaron entered, the scent of peppermint wafting in with him. He approached slowly, as if afraid I might shatter at any sudden movement. The steaming mug he handed me warmed my palms but did little to soothe the cold emptiness inside me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, inhaling the soothing aroma.

He placed his hand on my leg, the touch gentle and grounding. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

“Miserable.” The word felt woefully inadequate, but it was all I could manage. My chest tightened painfully, each heartbeat an agonizing reminder of my loss. “The man I love is dead, and it’s all my fault,” I whispered, the confession hanging heavy in the air between us.

Movement in my peripheral vision drew my attention. Finn was awake, watching me through hooded eyes. The pain I saw there was like a knife twisting in my gut. The realization hit me with crushing force—not only had I killed Jaxon, but I had reopened old wounds for Finn.

The mug of tea in my hands suddenly felt too heavy. I set it down, my fingers trembling. The room seemed to close in around me, the air filled with unspoken words and barely contained grief. Jaxon’s scent, Finn’s watchful gaze, Kamaron’s concern—it all barreled down on me together, threatening to crush me.

I wanted to apologize, to explain, to beg for their forgiveness, but how could I possibly express the depth of my regret and horror at what I’d done? The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft clink of the mug as I set it down.

In this moment I had never felt so alone, even though I was surrounded by those who still cared for me despite everything I had done. I was adrift on a vast sea of guilt and grief, with no shore in sight.