The Coven - Academy Magic Complete Series

by Chandelle LaVaun

The night was crystal clear. The sky was jet black with a golden crescent moon hanging low. Stars twinkled far, far above.

  Notre Dame Cathedral stood tall and gorgeous in front of me. I stood right in the center, under the east rose window and between the north and south towers. I knew I needed to go inside and find my next clue, but for a moment, I just wanted to look at it. The building was lit from below, casting the façade in a golden light to match the moon. My gaze bounced around, trying to take in every detail.

  But then reality snapped back into place, and anxiety took over. I glanced down at my watch. It was eleven at night. There wasn’t a soul in sight. The courtyard behind me was empty, and the streets were clear. I wasn’t sure if this was normal for this area of Paris in December, but I knew we needed to capitalize on it.

  I turned toward Bettina and opened my mouth to ask her if she was ready…and found her engrossed in her cell phone. That blue light lit up her face. Her fingers flew over the buttons as she chewed on her bottom lip. A gust of cold wind ripped through the courtyard. She shivered and zipped her hoodie up higher. Cooper’s hoodie. My stomach turned. Raw, hot jealousy surged in my veins. I balled my fists and slammed my mouth shut. I stared at her face, waiting for her to notice me, but she never did. She was too busy on her phone.

  Probably talking to Cooper. I snarled and peeled my eyes off of her. Then I stormed forward toward the cathedral. She huffed and grumbled something, but I didn’t listen. I knew I was being a bit of an asshole, but I just couldn’t take it anymore.

  Michael, if you sent her here to break me…congratulations. You’ve done it.

  Somehow I’d fooled myself into thinking I’d survive this with my heart and sanity intact. I’d convinced myself she and I could still be friends. We could still hang in the same groups and act like nothing had happened. Such rubbish. I was a real prized idiot. A bloody buffoon.

  As I climbed the front steps of Notre Dame, I knew things would have to change once this was over. I couldn’t continue on like this. This perpetual torture had to end. If I somehow managed to succeed tonight, I’d have to talk to Tennessee. I was a Coven member now, so I couldn’t just move anywhere I wanted to. Apparently fate didn’t want me to taste freedom at any point in my life. But Tennessee was understanding, and Constance knew me well. When I succeeded tonight, I’d ask them to station me somewhere else.

  Anywhere else.

  Evaline had lived in Salem while having the same Mark as I had. Surely there had to be somewhere that needed The Coven’s presence. I would volunteer for that as soon as possible. I’d find this mystery soulmate of mine then find a place Bettina had no reason to visit. She needed to stay at Edenburg and learn. Tegan and the Bishops were her family. I couldn’t and wouldn’t ask her to leave them. No, I would leave her. I could do that. I’d already left my own family. Hell, maybe I could return to England.

  I was so caught up in my own head and my new game plan that I hadn’t consciously realized I’d entered the cathedral until I bumped into a wooden bench. I cursed and steadied myself before breaking anything. Damn it. Pay attention. I glanced behind me expecting to find Bettina laughing at my clumsiness or mocking me. Instead, I found her drenched in the blue light coming off of her phone.

  My stomach tightened into knots. Anger that wasn’t quite rational exploded inside of me. “Do you know how to stay off your phone?”

  Her head snapped up and her eyes widened. “Oh, now you speak to me?”

  “How could I when you’re so absorbed in your Facebook newsfeed? Or maybe you’re looking for the perfect Snapchat filter?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Anything to block out your face would be ideal.”

  “You’d have to look up from your phone once to know where my face even was!” I shouted and my voice echoed through the cathedral.

  “That’s real rich coming from the guy who ignored me for the last eight hours. I had just started to forget what your voice sounded like,” she yelled and balled her hands into fists at her side. “Why’d you have to go and ruin it by speaking now?”

  Heat flared in my veins. “Oh, I’m sorry, is this quest to save my entire family’s magic not enough about you? Am I supposed to smile and ask you about your dreams and hobbies while my future is on the line? Maybe a little time to think about this task isn’t justified for you?”

  She threw her hands out wide and raised her eyebrows. “Well? We’re here. You’ve had eight hours to think about it. Did you solve world hunger while you were at it? Figure out how to get the United States out of debt or cure cancer? You must have, considering you couldn’t be bothered to even answer yes or no on if you were freaking hungry.”

  “What is your problem tonight?” I screamed through clenched teeth.

  “Which one? I’ve got a list!”

  “Glad to see you finally made yourself useful!”

  She gasped and her eyes flared with rage. Pink magic billowed out from her clenched fists and from under her feet. The wooden floor beneath our feet trembled. The golden lights outside shone bright like sunshine. Red and blue flashed across her face as the light pierced through the stained glass windows.

  Shit. SHIT. I didn’t mean that. She had helped. A lot. But the words had just poured out of me. I didn’t know why she had this effect on me. I never lost my temper and shouted at someone—I was English, for Goddess’ sake.

  She aimed daggers in her eyes at me. She opened her mouth then shut it and stormed away from me while mumbling something about a cup of tea and pouring it on my stupid pretty face.

  I groaned and tugged on my hair. Bloody brilliant, mate. Way to make things worse. I shook my head. Apologizing to her would’ve been the smart move, and the right one—since she was right and I was being an asshole. But it wouldn’t seem sincere with my mood, so the idea was futile. She’d just chop me up and spit me back out unscathed. She was so much stronger than I was. I needed to cool off, then I’d make amends.

  No, you need to figure out why Henry sent you here.

  Think, jackass.

  But I had nothing. I turned and walked up the nave of the cathedral, scanning every detail in sight. This building was one of the most spectacular things I’d ever seen, yet I couldn’t revel in its beauty. I had a job to do. All that mattered right now was finding my next clue.

  “Bettina,” I growled.

  She stepped out from behind a pillar with her arms crossed over her chest and one arched eyebrow. “Yes, Your Highness?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Be mad at me. That’s fine. But neither of us can go home until we figure this out.”

  Her eyes sharpened. “What exactly do you think I’m doing over here? Picking my nose and doing a two-step?”

  “What the hell is a two-step?” I frowned then shook my head. “Does your brain have anything inside of it besides sarcasm and anger?”

  “At least I know how to think when I’m angry. Yours seems to short-circuit any time your feathers are ruffled.” She pointed at my hip. “The crown of the man who stole an Angel’s sword and was named king of France here hangs from your hip… Maybe you should put it on since it clearly has more to offer than a pretty face—unlike yourself.”

  I opened my mouth then shut it. Damn it. She was right. I didn’t trust myself to speak again, so I just shut up and took her advice. Henry’s crown fit perfectly and comfortably on my head. Despite the chill in the air, the gold metal was warm to the touch. I took a deep breath to clear my energy then looked around.

  But everything looked completely normal.

  “Well, Lancelot? See anything?”

  “Just a bad attitude.”

  “Oh good, you can see it. I’d hate for my efforts to go unnoticed,” she snarled. I must’ve made a face because she chuckled. “Keep going. I can do this all day.”

  “Yeah, you’re the real Captain America.” I rolled my eyes.

  She leaned against the pillar and grinned, but it was a sinister kind of smile. “I’ve got the ass to prove it.”

>   I bit down on my cheek to stop myself from saying any of the responses floating around in my head. All of them about her ass and not a single one even remotely appropriate, even if I agreed with her. But that wasn’t good enough, so I turned away from her.

  I shook my head, and something moved in my peripheral vision. I looked up and frowned. At the far end of the nave, on the wall we’d just entered, the rose window moved. My pulse kicked up a notch. I squinted and took a few steps closer, inspecting the massive rosette with more scrutiny. Normally—according to all the pictures I’d ever seen of it—the stained glass images depicted Christian biblical scenes…and it looked nothing like what I saw right now.

  The image shining down at me had bright red and orange flames against a dark blue sky.

  I reached up and slid the crown up off my head, and the window went back to normal, to what the humans saw every day. My jaw dropped. Bettina was right. This crown was more than just for a pretty face.

  “Are you going to share with the class or go back to ignoring me?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then held the crown out toward her.

  There were a few beats of silence, and then she let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t see anything abnormal. Clearly, this punishment is yours alone.”

  “Gee, I wonder why I didn’t share with the class sooner. It’s not like this has happened on this quest yet.” I rolled my eyes and snatched the crown back. Then I spun to face her and arched one eyebrow. “Can you entertain yourself for a minute so I can think, or will you wilt up and die without attention?”

  She looked me straight in the eyes…and zipped Cooper’s hoodie up all the way.

  Sharp pain shot through my chest. I spun away before my face betrayed me like my heart already had. Focus! You’re too close to fail now. I looked up at the southern rose window with my regular eyes. This one was gorgeous. The rosette panels were mostly reds and blues, with sections depicting scenes from the New Testament of the bible. Beneath the rosette were sixteen vertical rectangular panels, one per prophet. It was breathtaking, but not what I needed to see.

  I slid the crown back on my head, and my eyes widened. Across the sixteen panels on the bottom, each of the glass pieces had turned a dark red. A long gold and white sword lay stretched out from left to right. Above, in the rosette, orange and red flames covered the panels. Golden sections of glass took the shape of a bald man against a white background, and the black lines between the glass reminded me of the markings on— I gasped. They looked like the glyphs covering Michael’s body. I blinked and looked again. The background wasn’t white… Those were wings.

  Heat rushed over my right arm so I knew without looking that Bettina had moved closer.

  My heart fluttered. “It’s Archangel Michael, up in the rosette. And below him is a picture of his sword.”

  “That’s it?” Her floral scent swept over me, and then I spotted her blonde hair in my peripheral vision. “It’s just Michael and the sword?”

  “And fire,” I grumbled and pointed to the front wall at the end of the nave. “That one is only fire.”

  “And the third one, behind us?”

  I spun around and my eyes widened. What in the hell…

  “What is it?” she said in a rush.

  “More fire…but there’s also a pillar and a couple—I don’t know, I guess you’d call them staffs?” I shrugged. “One is the shape of a cross, and the other has a pentacle at the top. Wait, there’s more.”

  I jogged across the transept to get a closer look at the northern rose window with the crown’s filter. Then I saw, and my stomach turned. “There’s a person tied to the pillar.”

  “And there’s fire, too?”

  I nodded.

  She shuddered. “It’s an execution.”

  My face fell. It was an execution. “Why would Henry want me to see this?”

  “Because this person was important.” Bettina rubbed her hands together then started to pace in front of me. “Can you think of anyone from the Hundred Years’ War that was executed by burning at the stake?”

  I exhaled and shook my head. “I don’t know. It was a decently common execution style back then. I mean, Joan of Arc was executed— Oh my Goddess.”

  “Oh my God!” Bettina said at the same time.

  “It’s Joan of Arc.” I looked back to the window panes and stared. “It has to be her.”

  Bettina said something, but I didn’t hear it. My mind was reeling. Historical facts about this woman bounced around my head. What is it trying to tell me though?

  “JACKSON!”

  I flinched and jumped back. Bettina smacked my arm and glared at me. Then she snapped her fingers in front of my face. “I said…where was Joan of Arc executed?”

  “Oh…um…” I cursed and rubbed my face with my hands. “I don’t know. Somewhere in France, for sure. I’d have to look it up. Why do you ask?”

  She pointed to the rosette above her. “This is Joan of Arc being executed, right?”

  I nodded.

  “And that rosette”—she pointed behind me—“shows Archangel Michael with his sword below him, right?”

  I nodded again.

  “According to human history books, and my Google searches on the train tonight, Joan of Arc claimed she received messages from Archangel Michael. The very same Angel whose sword was stolen. Look at the imagery here. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Bloody hell.” My jaw dropped. “The spot where she was executed, under the pillar… That’s where Henry hid Michael’s sword.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  JACKSON

  “According to Wikipedia, Joan of Arc was executed in Rouen,” Bettina said in a rush as we ran out the front doors of the cathedral. “At the Place du Vieux Marché.”

  “Right. There’s a memorial and a church in her name there.” I already had my phone in my hand, so I pulled up Google maps and typed it in. “I’ve heard of it, but never been there.”

  “How far away is it, and how do we get there? Another train?”

  I shook my head. “It’s after eleven. There wouldn’t be a train now. Maybe a bus. Though it’s a two-hour drive from here, so maybe a cab.”

  “Maybe…or…” She sprinted ahead.

  We were halfway down the steps when I froze. A thought suddenly occurred to me. I frowned and turned back to face the cathedral just as the front doors slammed shut. A cold chill slid down my spine. I didn’t remember opening a door, and certainly not a locked one. But the door definitely was closed when we first got there, and I was looking at the building. I jogged back up to the door and pulled on it. It didn’t budge. The door was locked.

  What? How?

  It made sense that the doors would be locked this late at night, but what didn’t make sense was how we’d just walked right in. I yanked on the doors as hard as I could, yet they didn’t budge. I pushed my magic into the lock, and still it held tight.

  “JACKSON!”

  I jumped and spun around, then spotted Bettina standing next to a running car. Forget the doors. Get moving. I sprinted over to the cab—then slid to a stop. It wasn’t a taxi. It was a regular black sedan with a butterfly hanging from the rearview mirror.

  “Get in,” Bettina yelled, then dropped down into the driver’s seat.

  “You stole this car,” I whispered and looked around. There was no one around, but that didn’t mean much. I threw the door open, and shouted, “You stole this car!”

  “No shit, Sherlock! Get in!”

  I shook my head. “That’s not how we do things! We don’t just steal stuff because we can!”

  “Do you want to fail?” she screamed over the empty passenger seat.

  “Of course not!”

  “Then get in the damn car!”

  I cursed and climbed in. Bettina threw the car in drive and sped off down the road.

  I buckled my seat belt then turned on her. “What the hell, Bettina? Since when are you a thief?”

  “F
or the love of all that is holy, don’t get all high and mighty on me now, Lancelot,” she said with a growl. “It’s almost midnight. The sun will be rising in about six hours, and we have a two-hour drive, and we have no idea how long it’ll take to actually find the sword. We don’t exactly have time for some cab driver to abide by traffic laws. So, again, do you want to fail?”

  “Of course I don’t,” I snapped.

  “Then shut up and deal with a little grand theft auto! It’s not like I’m gonna keep the damned thing.” She pulled out onto a main road and swerved through a few empty lanes. “Now turn on that GPS and tell me where to go.”

  Damn it. I pulled out my cell phone and opened Google maps back up, then hit start.

  “In five hundred feet, turn right,” the smooth robotic voice said from my app.

  Bettina cursed and yanked on the steering wheel. We spun wide and wildly.

  “Thank God they drive on the right side of the road here,” she mumbled.

  I shook my head. “Since when do you know how to hotwire a car?”

  She rolled her eyes without taking her gaze off the road. “Since Myrtle removed that block on my magic. Cool your tits, Lancelot. I’m not some juvenile delinquent.”

  My eyes widened. “Cool my tits?”

  “Yeah!” She reached over and smacked my chest lightly. “These. Cool them. Calm the hell down. Desperate times, desperate measures. So, you’re welcome, asshole.”

  I gritted my teeth and seethed. “You’re really something tonight, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t have to be here, you know!” she screamed and followed the GPS’s driving instructions. “I’m here to help you. Maybe try not to bite the hand that’s feeding you.”

  “Maybe I want to make sure the hand isn’t going to poison me!”

  She laughed but it was dark-sounding and sent a chill down my spine. “Trust me, there are more fun ways to kill you than poison. I stole a car. The French police will find it. No big deal. Cool. Your. Tits.”

  “You didn’t even hesitate, did you? Just ran right out and stole one—”