Page 57 of Goody Magic Academy: Year Three

Headmaster Tarus’ response came swiftly, his tone filled with conviction. “You’re forgetting, Peyton, there’s not just one dragon here. There’s three: you, Kamaron and Finn. You will be their leader. The high priestess will be battling all of you plus Raven Acosta. I doubt that the Dragon Nexus could wield that much power.” His words were both thrilling and terrifying.

“You don’t know that for sure,” I countered softly, unable to fully embrace the hope he offered.

Headmaster Tarus’ eyes narrowed, a note of frustration entering into his voice. “No, I don’t. But since the Nexus was taken from me and given to her, it’s our only chance.”

His words were like a sharp slap across the face, reopening the wound of my guilt.

Headmaster Lange’s voice cut through the tension, admonishing but gentle. “Do not chide her, Costin.” His understanding gaze swept over me. “Would any of us have done differently if those we loved were threatened?” His words were a balm to my raw emotions. “The die has been cast. Let us move now while we have time.”

Lange’s declaration galvanized the room, infusing us all with a sense of purpose. I took a deep breath and met the gazes of those around me, seeing determination reflected back. We might not have all the answers, but we had each other. It was time to face the high priestess head-on and stop her before she could wreak even more havoc.

I looked at Finn and Kamaron. “Are you with me?”

“All the way,” Finn said. “Let’s burn this witch down.”

Kamaron’s face lit up with a familiar mischievous glint, unable to resist the opportunity for levity even in this tense moment.

“Let’s do it,” he quipped. “Or should I say, let’s give the high priestess a real dragon down!”

The room filled with a mixture of exasperated sighs and reluctant chuckles at Kamaron’s signature dad joke. I just rolled my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Really, Kamaron? Now?”

“Hey, someone’s got to keep our spirits up,” he retorted with a grin. “Besides, I thought it was pretty fire, if I do say so myself. Geddit? Dragon…fire?”

I sighed and shook my head.

Kamaron and Finn followed me out the door and outside into the cool air of the Red Rose Academy grounds. We stripped off our clothes and then the familiar process of shifting began as our bodies responded to the call of our dragon forms. My transformation came easily, black scales swiftly replacing skin. Beside me, Finn shifted with equal ease, his red dragon quickly taking shape.

Kamaron’s transformation was slower and more laborious, his concentration evident. I watched him closely, ready to offer guidance if needed, but his progress, while not swift, was steady. Finally he completed his shift, joining Finn and me in our dragon forms.

Twyla darted forward, quickly and efficiently gathering up our discarded clothes and allowing us to focus entirely on the task ahead. She climbed onto my back as we waited for the others to emerge from the headmaster’s quarters.

We launched into the air, powerful muscles propelling us skyward. The ground fell away beneath us as we climbed higher into the bright, open sky.

Sunlight danced across our dragon forms, in contrast to the shadowy figures of Valentin, Rose and the two headmasters who had now transformed into large bats.

Lucien’s majestic golden wings unfurled, their shimmering beauty catching the light as he joined us in flight. His presence was a poignant reminder of what was at stake.

Our dragon forms cut through the air with surprising speed, outpacing our vampire and Demon allies. The landscape was a blur beneath us as we soared over New Orleans, its familiar streets giving way to the wild tangle of the bayou.

As we approached St. Louis Cathedral, a faint sound reached my ears: a distant shriek, barely audible over the rush of wind but unmistakable.

Raven’s cries were a chilling reminder of the ordeal she was enduring. The pain in that sound was heartbreaking, even at this distance. It made us push ourselves harder, wings beating with renewed vigor. Every moment counted now, the distance between us and Raven feeling both terrifyingly vast and tantalizingly small.

The cathedral loomed ahead, its once-peaceful silhouette now a symbol of the battle to come. With Raven’s cries spurring us on and our allies close behind, we readied ourselves for the confrontation ahead.

I took in the scene unfolding below. Raven had retreated to the bayou. The high priestess stood facing her, the Dragon Nexus aimed directly at Raven’s chest. Even from this height, I could see the strain etched across the priestess’ face and the way her arm trembled with exertion. Hours of sustained effort had clearly taken their toll.

The thought that even a momentary lapse in the priestess’ concentration could turn the tide in our favor sent a surge of hope through me. Balthazar’s presence at her side, however, was an ominous reminder of the dark forces we were up against. The hellish blade in his hand gleamed with malevolent purpose.

A firestorm of fury ignited within me and my dragon trembled with barely contained wrath at the sight of my father’s battered form. Blood dripped down his face in crimson rivulets, each drop delivering a hammer blow to my heart. His mouth had been busted open making every breath likely painful, and his eyes were swollen shut from repeated blows. The thought of him trapped in darkness, unable even to see his tormentors or guess that there was now some hope of rescue, made my blood run cold.

The urge to roar in outrage and unleash my dragon’s fury upon those who had hurt him was nearly overwhelming. Every fiber of my being screamed to dive down, to snatch him out oftheir grasp and carry him to safety. The effort to hold back so we could maintain our element of surprise almost caused me physical pain.

This sight, more than anything, solidified my resolve. We weren’t just fighting for Raven or to stop the high priestess—we were fighting for my father, to avenge every moment of pain he had endured in his years in captivity.

Through the haze of emotion, the cold, tactical part of my brain noted the positions of all the members of the Bloodborne Brotherhood, seeking weaknesses we could exploit when we attacked.

We continued our descent, and with a subtle signal to Kamaron and Finn, I prepared us for the attack. The image of my father’s broken form burned in my mind, fueling the inferno of rage and determination building within me, the fire in my belly growing to a crescendo.

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