Goody Magic Academy, Year Three

Chapter 30

Chapter

Thirty

L ight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room. It felt as if the very walls were closing in, silently accusatory. How long had Jaxon’s lifeless body lain in St. Louis Cathedral? Hours? Days? Time had blurred for me, stretching and contracting like a living thing.

I picked up the steaming mug of tea again, the scent of peppermint wafting up and momentarily cutting through the heavy atmosphere. As I took a sip, the liquid burned a path down my raw throat, soothing yet painful at the same time.

Kamaron’s weight on the edge of the bed felt like an anchor, preventing me from drifting completely into the abyss of my guilt. My magic, a treasured part of me, had been used against me. And the high priestess... The memory of her using my own dragon to hurt the man I loved sent a fresh wave of nausea through my body.

“It’s going to be okay, Peyton. Can you at least tell us what happened?” Kamaron’s words were heavy with concern.

I shook my head, mute, unable to meet their eyes. I felt their intense gazes on me—Kamaron’s gentle sympathy, Finn’s alert curiosity—and it was unbearable. My vision blurred as hot tears spilled over my cheeks, leaving salty trails in their wake.

“The high priestess used the Dragon Nexus on me,” I finally choked out, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “She forced me to shift into my dragon. I tried—gods, how I tried—to stop it from happening, but I couldn’t. And then something... Something evil came out of the Nexus.”

My voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might summon it back. “It descended on me almost like a veil, penetrating my skin. And then a force was inside me, twisting, changing...” I winced. “The pain was...indescribable.”

I looked between Kamaron and Finn, unease tensing their shoulders, and exhaled a shaky breath. “I never want to see that happen to you.”

Kamaron gently pried the mug from my trembling fingers. The loss of its warmth left me feeling even more vulnerable and exposed.

“And how did you escape?” Kamaron’s voice was soft but insistent, a steady tide eroding my defenses.

I closed my eyes, the memory surging forth vividly. “Raven,” I whispered, a ghost of a smile flickering across my lips. “She burst into the church. She… She was like an avenging angel.”

The scene replayed behind my eyelids: the thunderous crash of splintering wood, the silver dragon’s fierce shrieks cutting through the air. “And the Bloodborne Brotherhood—” I laughed bitterly. “They scattered like cockroaches when the light flicks on.”

My muscles bunched up around my neck. “All except”…my voice faltered, a chill creeping down my spine one spider leg at a time…“the demon Balthazar and the high priestess herself. And then the high priestess turned the Dragon Nexus on Raven.”

Kamaron’s eyebrow shot up, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Wait, what? Demon?” The words were loaded with fear.

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. “There were two of them,” I continued quietly. “Balthazar, straight from the pits of Hell itself. And...Ari.”

The name felt wrong on my tongue. Tainted. “He was a Dark Demon. He…” I hesitated, the revelation stinging my tongue as if I had swallowed a wasp. “He said he was Valentin’s father.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Kamaron and Finn exchanged wide-eyed glances, the shock on their faces mirroring my own tumultuous emotions. It’s not every day you find out that your friend and ally’s father is Darth Vader.

I gripped the edge of my blanket, trying to anchor myself to reality as the scene replayed in my head again and again. The shadows in the corners of the room grew deeper and more ominous. What other earth-shattering tricks did the high priestess have up her sleeve? And how much time did we have before our world crashed down around us?

Kamaron’s voice quavered, fear bleeding through his usual composure. “You still haven’t told us how you broke free of the control of the Dragon Nexus.” His tone was filled with unspoken dread.

A fragile smile ghosted across my tear-stained face, a flicker of light in the darkness. “There was a man there,” I began, “beaten and half-starved...” My lower lip trembled violently, threatening to unleash a fresh torrent of tears.

Finn’s voice cut through the tension, hesitant yet hopeful. “Your dad?”

I nodded too vigorously and a ripple of pain shot through my neck, a reminder of the physical toll on my wrecked body. “Yes,” I continued softly. “He told me to draw on my magic, on all four elements.” I stared off, not seeing them or the room, only the nightmare back at the accursed church. “I did, and the Dragon Nexus’ spell shattered like glass.”

The brief feeling of triumph faded, replaced by another wave of guilt. “But I couldn’t save Raven.” The admission tasted bitter in my mouth. “My father told me to go get help, that I couldn’t fight them alone.”

I buried my face in my shaking hands, shame and self-loathing threatening to consume me. “All of this is my fault. I abandoned them.”

Finn’s footsteps echoed in the suddenly too-quiet room as he made his way to the door. “I’ll go tell the others what happened,” he murmured. “Lucien, Raven’s mate, is nearly out of his mind.” The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with Kamaron and my overwhelming guilt.

Kamaron’s innocent voice cut through my escalating spiral of self-recrimination. “Why do you think it’s your fault?”

“Because I gave her the Nexus!” The words ripped from my throat, raw and anguished. “She said she would let Jaxon go if I did, but the bitch lied.” I gnashed my teeth. “She fucking lied.”

Kamaron took my hands in his gently. “Listen to me,” he urged, his voice low and intense. “You did exactly what any of us would have done. No one will blame you.”

“How can you say that?” I choked out, panic rising in my chest. “How can I face anyone out there, especially…oh my god…Lucien’s going to kill me.”

Kamaron’s gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. “No, he won’t,” he insisted. “Don’t you see, Peyton? You were the one who escaped. Not Raven Acosta. You.” His voice was filled with awe. “You’re much more powerful than you think you are.”

I frowned, not sure I believed him.

His grip tightened. “Think about it. You helped Finn and I shift. You helped us learn how to fly and wield our dragons. And now you’re going to help us defeat the high priestess. All you have to do is believe in yourself.” He lowered his voice. “Like Jaxon believed in you.”

At the mention of Jaxon’s name, a vice closed around my heart. The pain of loss was still raw and immediate. But alongside it, something else unfurled within me now—a warmth that spread through my chest, pushing back against the cold grip of despair.

My love for Jaxon surged forth, filling every corner of my soul. It was a bittersweet ache, at once painful and profoundly comforting. And in that moment, I had a moment of clarity as bright as the morning sun.

I knew what would defeat the high priestess. Not hate, nor revenge. Those were her weapons. No, our strength came from something far more powerful that she could never truly understand or harness.

Love.

It coursed through me, a wellspring of strength I hadn’t ever known I possessed. Love for Jaxon, love for my friends, love for the world we were fighting to protect. It radiated outward, chasing away all the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

For the first time since my harrowing escape, a glimmer of real hope was flickering and taking hold inside me. Armed with this font of love and determination, I knew we would stand a good chance.

I met Kamaron’s gaze levelly. The time for wallowing in guilt and self-pity was over. Now was the time to stand tall and fight, to honor Jaxon’s memory and everything we held dear.

I drew a deep breath, allowing it to fill my lungs and straighten my spine. Fear and doubt still lingered, but now they were counterbalanced by steely resolve.

I very deliberately squared my shoulders, physically embodying the mental shift taking place within me. I felt like I was shedding an old skin, leaving behind the cowering, broken version of myself.

“Tell the others,” I said, my words ringing with newfound determination, “that it’s time to fight.” The declaration hung in the air, a battle cry and a promise rolled into one.

Kamaron’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. The physical contact was a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this fight. His chest rose and fell against mine, our heartbeats syncing in a silent rhythm of solidarity and friendship.

“I will,” he murmured, his voice a mix of pride and fierce determination. “And we’ll win.” The conviction in his tone was contagious, bolstering my own resolve.

Kamaron’s eyes met mine, bright with a combination of hope and awe. “You’re our secret weapon,” he continued, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “One the high priestess has sorely underestimated.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, not of fear, but of renewed hope. The high priestess, despite all her dark power, had made a critical error. In pushing me to my limits, she had unwittingly forged me into something stronger and more resilient than before.

The truth of Kamaron’s words settled over my bones like armor. I was no longer just a pawn in the high priestess’ games. I was a force to be reckoned with, fueled by love, determination, and a magic that ran deeper than she could possibly fathom.

As Kamaron’s embrace loosened, I stood a little taller, my chin lifted to face the challenges ahead. The room that had felt like a prison of guilt and despair was now charged with energy and potential, and I was ready to burst into action.

As he turned to leave he paused, a familiar glint appearing in his eye. I could sense him searching for a way to lighten the mood, if only for a moment.

“Hey, Peyton,” he said, his tone becoming more playful. “What do you call a dragon who loves to gossip?”

I let out a small sigh, recognizing the telltale setup for one of Kamaron’s famously awful dad jokes. “I don’t know, Kamaron. What?”

“A blabbermouth flame-thrower!” He delivered the punchline with an exaggerated wink, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

Despite everything, a bubble of laughter escaped me. “That’s beyond terrible, even for you,” I groaned, shaking my head even as a smile tugged at my lips.

Kamaron’s answering chuckle filled the room, momentarily chasing away some of the lingering shadows as I felt some of the tension drain from my body. His ability to find humor even in the darkest of times was one of the things I treasured most about him.

“Thanks, Kamaron,” I said quietly, gratitude coloring my tone. “I needed that.”

But it wasn’t just his joke that I needed. His pep talk had given me back my courage and determination.

He nodded affectionately. “Any time, Peyton. Now, let’s go show the high priestess what happens when she messes with our family.”

As Kamaron left to rally the others, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. It was time to face whatever came next—hopefully with a few more dad jokes along the way.