Page 46 of Goody Magic Academy: Year Three

I turned my now-massive head toward Jaxon and Rose, seeing their awestruck expressions with my large, reptilian eyes. The dragon’s desire for action, for flight, for confrontation, was burning in me like wildfire. We were ready. The high priestess wouldn’t know what hit her.

Jaxon moved quickly to scoop up my discarded clothes. His eyes darted to the horizon, flaring with urgency. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice tight. “I just spotted the headmaster’s car.”

Without hesitation, he vaulted onto my back, his body warm against my scales. I felt his thighs tighten around my neck andhis hands grab onto the ridges along my spine. His heartbeat thrummed against my hide, a rapid staccato that matched my own racing pulse.

Ethan’s voice cut through the air, sharp with determination. “Go, all of you,” he commanded, his usually calm demeanor replaced by fierce protectiveness. “Now.”

I didn’t stop to look back at my friends, or Ethan. My dragon was singularly focused, every instinct screaming to take flight. With a powerful thrust of my hind legs, I launched into the air, my wings catching the wind and propelling us skyward.

The world fell away beneath us as we climbed ever higher into the vast expanse of blue. The academy shrank until it looked like a collection of toy buildings, the roses mere specks of red. The air grew cooler as we ascended, the humidity yielding to the crispness of higher altitudes.

Wind rushed over my scales and Jaxon tightened his grip as we picked up speed. New Orleans stretched out below us, a familiar patchwork of streets and buildings with the silvery ribbon of the Mississippi winding through them. But my gaze was fixed firmly ahead, on the shadowy expanse of the bayou in the distance.

Jaxon leaned close, pressing himself against my neck to reduce wind resistance. His presence was a comforting reminder that I wasn’t facing this alone.

As we sped toward our destination, thoughts of my parents filled my mind. Memories of my mother flashed before my eyes—her smiling face, the warmth of her embrace—and my heart sickened when I thought about the terror she must be feeling now. Each beat of my wings was fueled by a desperate determination.

Hang on, Mom, I thought fiercely, willing them to feel my presence speeding toward them across the miles.We’re coming, Father. You won’t suffer any longer.The words became amantra, pulsing through me with each powerful beat of my wings.

The bayou with its murky waters and twisted trees loomed closer. Somewhere in that tangle of wilderness, the high priestess was waiting. But so were my parents, and nothing—not fear, not exhaustion, not even the headmaster’s wrath—would stop me from reaching them.

With a roar that split the sky, I surged forward, my dragon cutting through the air like a blade. The rescue mission had begun, and failure was not an option.

As I soared over New Orleans, the city sprawled beneath me like a living tapestry. The French Quarter bustled with activity, a sea of colorful umbrellas and awnings dotting the streets. My keen dragon vision picked out individual people strolling down Bourbon Street, tourists snapping photos, and street performers entertaining crowds, all blissfully unaware of the magical drama unfolding above their heads.

Jaxon must have read my thoughts because he shifted on my back, leaning close to my ear. “The mafia kings,” he shouted over the rush of wind. “They’re the only ones who might have an inkling of what’s happening.”

I snorted, a plume of smoke curling from my nostrils. Dimitri’s words echoed in my mind—the vampire king wasn’t even interested in the Dragon Nexus. But doubt niggled at the back of my thoughts. Just because the vampire king said that, it didn’t mean others weren’t pulling strings behind the scenes.

As we passed over St. Louis Cathedral in the heart of New Orleans, its iconic spires reached toward us like accusatory fingers. The sun glinted off the white facade, momentarily blinding me. A chill twisted my spine despite the warmth of the day, and my scales rippled with unease.

Jaxon leaned forward again, his breath warm against my neck as he shouted over the wind, “Remember, there’s another one out there!”

How could I forget? My mind raced to the other St. Louis Cathedral, the one hidden deep in the bayou. Unlike its urban counterpart, this one was shrouded in mystery and filled with dark magic. As we soared over the transition from city to swamp, I struggled to shake the foreboding feeling growing in my chest.

Who might be waiting for us at that secluded cathedral? Would we find any allies there at all? Unlikely. And how many enemies? My muscles tensed, smoke curling from my nostrils. The uncertainty made my scales prickle with unease.

The lush green expanse of the bayou began to unfold beneath us. Lakes appeared like mirrors scattered across the landscape, their surfaces broken only by the occasional leap of a fish or the ripples from a submerged alligator moving beneath the surface. Cypress trees rose from the water, their gnarled roots creating a maze of channels and hidden coves. The air grew heavy again with humidity, filled with the rich, organic scent of decaying vegetation and murky water.

I dipped lower and lower until the tips of my wings were nearly brushing the tops of the trees. Spanish moss swayed in the wake of our passing, like ghostly fingers reaching out to grab us. The noise of the city was replaced by the raucous calls of birds and the deep, rumbling bellows of bull alligators.

My nostrils flared, drinking in the scents of the bayou, searching for any trace of magic or human presence that might lead us to our destination. With each powerful beat of my wings, we drew closer to the hidden St. Louis Cathedral, closer to answers, and closer to danger. Whatever—or whoever—was waiting for us there, Jaxon and I would face it together.

Then I saw it. We had arrived.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

As the twisted spires of the bayou’s St. Louis Cathedral came into view, a gasp escaped my dragon maw, sending a long plume of smoke curling into the humid air. This cathedral was a nightmarish reflection of its pristine counterpart in the city, its once-white spires now bent and broken like bones jutting from decaying flesh.

The sight sent a shudder rippling through my scales, causing Jaxon to tighten his grip on my neck. His heartbeat pounded against my back, matching the rapid rhythm of my own, and his anxiety was palpable, mirroring the tension coiled within me.

I circled lower, the downdraft from my wings creating ripples in the murky water surrounding the cathedral. The stench of decay and dark magic invaded my nostrils, making me want to retreat, but I pressed on, my eyes fixed on our grotesque destination.

The walls of the cathedral pulsed with a sickly, bilious light, oozing sinister energy that made the very air around us feel thick and oppressive. It was as if the building itself was alive, watching our approach with malicious intent. My keen dragon senses picked up whispers carried on the fetid breeze, too—incomprehensible words that sent chills down my spine.

As we drew closer, the atmosphere grew heavier, more pregnant with dread. The usual sounds of the bayou—the croaking of frogs, the buzz of insects—had fallen silent, as if the swamp itself was holding its breath in fearful anticipation. The only sounds were the rhythmic beating of my wings and Jaxon’s ragged breathing in my ear.

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