Only a moment later, I’m in my nearly empty room. I close the door to Giselle’s closet and toss the bag onto my bed. I guess I’ll be staying here a while. I should put a picture on the wall or something. I reach into my bag and pull out the framed picture of Beau and me at homecoming and set it on my desk. I kiss my finger and press it to Beau’s face.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I say. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. Couldn’t tell you the truth. But I’m going to get stronger. I’ll do it for you.”
I go back to my bag and unpack...again. How many times have I done this now? Hopefully this is the last time until summer break in a couple of weeks. At least then I won’t be packing to leave. It will just be a vacation. A well-earned vacation.
Unless I fail my finals and can’t come back in the fall after all.
I need to study. I check my bag for any missed items and find the crumpled-up note from Mama. I pull it out and unfold it.
See you at three!
I cuss out loud as it dawns on me. “I know what the smoke from a broken promise is!”
Chapter 29
In the lab, Ivy, Krista, Jaxon, and I are gathered around a small cauldron. Ms. Brewster is standing nearby, a notebook and pen in her hands, and the rest of the room is filled with eager students watching us.
I open the clamshell and put the water that was gifted from a sea creature into the cauldron. Jaxon then hands me the flower from a ludisia orchid bloomed in spring. I put it into the cauldron and use a pestle to crush it into the water. I place the amulet that is holding the eternal flame under the cauldron, and Krista releases the flame. It sputters and sparks and then burns hot, bringing the water and crushed flower to a boil.
I then take out the note from Mama, the broken promise, and hold it to the flame. As the paper burns, I gather the smoke together into a ball. Once I have all the smoke, I drop it into the concoction. The potion boils and bubbles and turns bright blue. I blow out the flame and use a sieve to pour just the liquid into a potion bottle. I then turn and offer the potion to Ms. Brewster.
"One Soul of Loss,” I tell her.
Ms. Brewster sniffs the potion, and I think I see her eyes water as she says, “It’s a success!”
Everyone bursts into applause. Krista, Ivy, Jaxon, and I cheer and hug each other.
“We did it!” I say.
“You did it!” Jaxon says. “We never would have figured that last part out.”
“Oh, stop,” I say. “We did it together."
“Yes, you certainly did,” Ms. Brewster says. We all turn to her. “But I don’t have the time to mentor all of you. I stated very clearly that there could only be one winner. Have you considered what you will do about that?”
“We have,” Ivy says. “We already decided that Madison can have the place as your student. She needs it more than the rest of us.”
“Geez, thanks for the compliment,” I say, and everyone laughs.
“Well, if that is the decision of the group, then I have no choice but to accept,” Ms. Brewster says. “Congratulations, Madison.”
“Thank you, Ms. Brewster.”
“Do come to my office,” she says. “We need to discuss your future here at La Voisin.”
After she leaves, I grimace as I look to the others. “Ugh. Guess my future isn’t so secure after all. I’m sure I’m going to bomb my finals.”
“Just go see what she has to say,” Krista says. “She might surprise you."
“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” I say.
Ivy and Krista walk off, but Jaxon lingers for a minute.
“I’m really interested to know what Ms. Brewster has to say,” he says. “Can I walk with you? I’ll wait in the hall while she reads you the riot act.”
“Sure,” I say. “Sounds good. When I come out, I might need a shoulder to cry on.”
As I go into Ms. Brewster’s office, Jaxon gives me a thumbs-up for good luck. I shut the door behind me and see that Ms. Brewster is piling up books into the chair in front of her desk.
“Summer is not a time for sleeping until noon and binging on television,” Ms. Brewster says as she consults her shelves, pulling down more books. “But a time to increase your studies. Catch up. Get ahead. Find an area of focus to spend more time on.”
“You’re assigning me summer reading?” I ask, picking up one of the books and flipping through it.
“Of course,” she said. “If you are going to be exempt from your finals, you will have to make up the work somehow.”
“You are exempting me from the finals?” I ask.
“If you take them, are you going to pass?” she asks.
“Not likely,” I admit.
“That’s what I thought.” She stacks two more books onto the pile. “But I can’t have one of my private students fail all of her classes, now can I? You won’t receive any letter grades for your courses, just Ps for pass. But next year, you will have to follow the curriculum and pass like everyone else. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am!” I say with a bit too much enthusiasm. “So, not more catching up? I’ll just be a year three student?”
“Provided you finish all the readings and projects this summer, yes,” Ms. Brewster says, and I groan inwardly as I look at the growing pile of books. It’s going to be a long summer. But I plaster a smile on my face.
“Yes, Ms. Brewster,” I say.
“And don’t think that year three will be easy,” she goes on. “It’s actually the most difficult year. There’s more emphasis on developing your powers and really learning what it means for you personally to be a witch.”
“I’m really looking forward to that,” I say. “It’s actually the whole reason I came here.”
“Not to mention that being my mentee means I will expect more from you than the average student,” she says, and I think she is done gathering books, until she pulls one more—the biggest one yet—out from under her desk and plops it on top of the pile in a plume of dust.
I wave the dust away and cough. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, that’s it,” Ms. Brewster says. “Off with you.”
She doesn’t wait for me to head out before taking off herself, leaving me alone in the room with Jaxon just outside.
I gather up as many books as I can, but there are way too many for me to carry by myself. I open the door and motion Jaxon in, and he graciously helps me carry the rest of them.
“You know, if you were any sort of air witch, you’d float these books up to your room,” he says.
“What?” I ask as I stumble and my pile of books goes flying. “No!” I reach out as if to pluck them out of midair—and they freeze. I can feel the breeze wafting around us, and I realize I’m floating too.
Jaxon cusses. “I didn’t think you could really do it.”
“I’m scared to move,” I say. I look around for Ms. Brewster, but she’s already turned the corner down the hall. “I don’t know how I’m doing this. I’m not even directing the wind. It’s like...it’s just reading my mind and doing what I want.”
“Then...tell it what you want,” he says.
I imagine that I’m standing upright, and I do. I then imagine that the books are back in my arms, but they don’t weigh more than a single book and I am able to carry them with ease.
Everything I imagine really happens.
“This is...so cool!” I say.
Jaxon seems too struck for words.
As we enter my room, we put the books on Giselle’s bed, and Jaxon stretches his back.
“Could have helped a guy out, you know,” he says.
“Oh, sorry,” I say. “I have no idea what I’m even doing right now.”
“Well, hopefully Ms. Brewster will be able to help you out,” he says as his eyes rove around my room. “So, any sign of Giselle lately?”
I shake my head as I sit on my bed. “She was here, but I think she just came to say goodbye. I guess by at least identifying her killer, we helped her achieve some kind of
peace. I just wish we could have actually caught her and found out why she killed Giselle.”
“We will have to leave it up the elders now, I guess,” he says as he sits beside me. “At least they believe you that Ms. Boucher was the killer.”
“Yeah,” I say, and we go quiet for a minute.
Finally, Jaxon speaks up. “So...what you told us about killing your boyfriend, that was pretty heavy stuff.”
I nod.
“I guess I understand where you are coming from now, about not wanting to get involved with anyone,” he goes on, and I can feel my ears go hot. I’m not sure I want to have this conversation. I lower the temperature in the room to help calm my nerves.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “I’m still pretty broke up about it. I...I don’t know when I’ll be able to move on.”
“I get it,” he says. “And I know that you are scared of hurting someone else you care about. But you know what? I think you are worth the risk—and the wait.”
“Huh?” I feel my eyebrows pulling together. “What do you mean?”
“I’d like to get to know you better, Madison Whittaker,” he says. “And I hope you want to get to know me too.”
I open my mouth to tell him to get out. That I’m not ready. That I’m still heartbroken. And while all that is true, I don’t feel those things as strongly as I once did. Of course, that makes me feel guilty. How can I just move on when Beau is...is...
“I’d like to get to know you,” I say. “But slowly. Really, really slowly.”
“Just call me a snail,” Jaxon says as he jumps up from the bed. “I’m getting out of here before you change your mind.”
He slips out of the room and closes the door behind him. I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. Damn. I just laughed. How long has it been since I last laughed? I can’t even remember.
But as I look around the room, my heart feeling lighter than it has in months, my eyes land on the picture of Beau and me, and I feel heartsick again. I stand and walk over to the photo. I reach out to pick it up and put it in the drawer, but my hand freezes. I can’t do that. I can’t just lock Beau away and pretend he wasn’t the most important person in my life. The reason I’m here. The reason I’m going to become the best damn witch La Voisin has ever seen.
But I can’t look at him—at us—right now either. Laughing felt so good. I’m tired of being sad. I back out of the room and shut the door. I need to go for a walk. Get out. Clear my head.
And there is only one place on campus that is best for that.
I make sure no one is watching me as I walk to the secret grotto where the mystery man statue is waiting for me. He’s always waiting.
“Hey,” I say as I enter. “So, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we found out who killed Giselle. Is was Ms. Boucher, if you can believe that.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“I think Giselle moved on,” I continue. “I saw her, you know, go into the light or whatever. So, she’s at least at peace. We don’t need to worry about that anymore.”
The statue is silent and doesn’t move.
“But I still don’t know what she meant by ‘help them,’” I say. “She told me that so many times, and it was the last thing she said to me before she passed on. I guess she was able to find peace because she thought I would carry on her mission for her. But I don’t know what that mission was. I think it has to do with the statues, but...what? I don’t suppose you could help a girl out?"
Nothing.
I sigh and step back. I hear a crunch as I step on something. I look down and find a piece of paper. When I pick it up, I see that it has those weird runic characters on them. But this time, after all the time I have been spending studying them, this actually makes sense to me.
“Not safe here,” I read out loud.
I turn to the statue. “What does that mean? Who’s not safe? Not safe from what?”
But he just stands there, silent as a grave.
Continue reading with Academy of the Damned Book 2: Ritual of Magic.
About the Author
Veronica Shade writes fast-paced young adult and new adult paranormal romance reads. When she's not busy writing about snarky heroines and darkly dreaming vampires, she spends her time binge-watching Game of Thrones and reruns of Firefly, playing with her cats, or gaming.
Her love for writing comes second only to her love of reading. If you like her books, she recommends you also check out Bella Forrest, Kiera Cass, and Cassandra Clare.
The Veronica Shade pen name is a joint-venture persona of authors Rebecca Hamilton, Heather Marie Adkins, April Canavan, Anna Applegate, and Leigh Anderson.
Curse of Stone (Academy of the Damned Book 1) Page 26