Page 1 of Goody Magic Academy: Year Three

Chapter

One

The cold night air bit into my skin, chilling my bones as badly as the looming presence of the Bloodborne Brotherhood. Rough hands seized me, one clamping over my mouth, silencing my screams. The relative safety of the faculty apartments taunted me from mere feet away.

My heart hammered against my ribcage as I thrashed wildly, my legs kicking at nothing but air. The iron grip of my captor tightened, lifting me effortlessly. Panic surged through my veins. I slammed my head back, hitting something with a satisfying crunch, but stars exploded behind my eyes from the impact and the world spun dangerously.

Gasping for breath, I clawed frantically at the arm across my chest. My muscles screamed in protest as I twisted, searching desperately for any weakness. Sweat beaded on my forehead, my throat raw from screaming. The edges of my vision darkened, but I forced myself to stay alert and keep fighting.

“You’re worse than a fucking cat,” my captor growled, his breath hot in my ear.

He hauled me across the courtyard, my feet dragging uselessly along the ground. My stomach churned as Goody Magic loomed ahead, silhouetted against the night sky. Panicclawed at my throat. I needed help desperately. Valentin had to know the truth—Jaxon hadn’t run away to New Orleans with Valentin’s brother, Dimitri. He was a prisoner, ensnared by the high priestess and under a sinister spell.

My eyes darted around frantically, searching for any sign of Twyla. Had she managed to evade the Brotherhood? A flicker of hope sparked in me—maybe she’d reached the Dragans. Rose and Valentin would know what to do.

Heart pounding, muscles tensing, I made one last, desperate move. My hand shot out, my fingers curling around his most vulnerable area. I squeezed with all my might, feeling a surge of grim satisfaction.

“You bitch,” he hissed, his body going rigid with pain.

His fist connected with the side of my face. The last thing I saw was a pair of burning red eyes. A supernova of agonizing pain exploded in my temple. The world tilted violently, then faded to black as I felt myself hitting the ground.

I wokeon a cold floor with a groan, my head throbbing in time with my heartbeat. Blinking away the bleariness, I took in my surroundings. I was alone. Rough stone walls silently and threateningly pressed in on all sides. Near the ceiling and out of reach, a small window, barely more than a slit, taunted me with a tiny glimpse of the outside world. Bars crisscrossed over the opening, and beyond them, I could make out a pane of glass. My throat tightened as a horrifying realization dawned—this place must be either soundproofed or under some powerful silencing spell. The high priestess would have ensured no one could hear my screams.

The cell was sparse, almost cruelly so, and the air felt thick and stale, carrying a musty odor that spoke of age and neglect. A cot with a thin, lumpy mattress occupied one corner, its creaky metal frame rusted. A lone chair stood sentinel in the center of the room, its wooden seat worn smooth by countless prisoners before me.

My eyes darted around, searching desperately for basic amenities. There was no toilet, no sink—nothing. Just a bucket tucked away in the corner. I grimaced. Was that really where I was expected to relieve myself?

A steel door dominated one wall, its surface marred by scratches and dents from previous occupants’ futile attempts to escape. A small window broke up the expanse of metal, offering a tantalizing glimpse outside my prison.

I grabbed the chair, its legs scraping harshly against the stone floor as I dragged it over to the door. My muscles strained as I lifted myself up. Pressing my body against the cool metal and my face to the small window, I peered out, my heart pounding as I desperately searched for any sign of hope or possible escape in the corridor beyond. It stretched off into darkness, lit only by flickering torches that cast eerie, dancing shadows.

As my eyes adjusted, I was able to make out other cell doors lining the hallway. Were they all occupied? I strained my ears, hoping to catch any sign of life, but the silence was oppressive. The only sound was my own breathing.

A bead of sweat trickled down my back, making me shiver in the chill air.

My mind raced, replaying the events that led me here. Fragments of memories came to me: the struggle in the courtyard…the pain of the punch to the head…the desperate hope that someone, anyone, would come to my aid. And those red eyes! I had never seen eyes like that anywhere except in mynightmares. Now, trapped in this stone cage, hope felt like a fading dream.

The chair beneath me creaked ominously. I shifted my weight carefully, trying to maintain my precarious perch. My muscles ached from the strain, but I couldn’t bring myself to step down yet. This window, this tiny glimpse of the world beyond my cell, was my only lifeline.

A sudden noise from somewhere further down the corridor made me jerk back, nearly losing my balance and toppling off the chair. My heart leapt into my throat. Was it a guard? Another prisoner? Something…worse? I held my breath, listening intently, but the sound didn’t come again.

As the adrenaline spike faded, exhaustion hit me like a wave. My limbs felt leaden, my eyelids heavy. But the thought of lying down on that sorry excuse for a cot with who-knew-what bugs in it made my skin crawl. How long had I been here? And how much longer was I doomed to remain?

I got down from the chair and slumped against the door, my forehead resting on the cool metal. My mind drifted to Rose, Valentin, Twyla…all those who might be searching for me. Were they close? Or had the Brotherhood’s magic erased all traces of my existence from my friends’ memories? If it had, could I fix that? What would happen to my mom? There had to be a spell to counter this magic.

Endless questions swirled in my mind, each one darker than the last. I closed my eyes, fighting back tears of frustration and fear. I had to stay strong and alert so I could find a way out of this nightmare. I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath that tasted of damp and decay. Focus. I had to focus.

I reached deep within myself, searching for that familiar spark of power, the essence of my dragon form. In my mind’s eye, I pictured scales appearing across my skin, my bones and muscles elongating, giant wings unfurling. Come on, I urgedsilently, willing my body to change, to grow, to become the creature that could shatter these walls and soar to freedom.

For a fraction of a heartbeat, I felt it—the flicker of heat deep inside, promising the shift. My muscles tensed in anticipation, a low growl building in my throat. This was it. I was going to?—

White-hot agony spread over my skin as if I had been bound in fiery chains. The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it, raw and primal. Tears streamed down my face as I crumpled to the ground and grabbed my knees to my chest. My skin felt like it was shriveling to burned parchment, dry and brittle to the touch.

“No, no, no,” I gasped between ragged breaths, despair washing over me. These walls weren’t just a prison, they possessed an evil force that thwarted any attempt to shift into my dragon form. The effort to change had unleashed an unbearable agony that felt like molten lava knifing through my veins.

I pressed my palm against the cold, obsidian-like surface of the wall, feeling malevolent energy pulsing beneath my fingertips. A dim, sickly green light seeped from the cracks between the stones and cast eerie shadows across the cramped cell. This place was clearly designed to suppress my kind’s very essence.

Closing my eyes, I tried to summon the warmth of my inner fire, the spark I felt when I shifted. But I couldn’t even get a flicker now—there was only a hollow ache, as if part of my soul had been ripped away.

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