Legends of Astræa: Cupid's Arrow Book 1 (Legends of Astræa Series)

by Sophia Alessandrini

Of course, she didn’t know I carried weapons inside a black canvas-zipped bag. I’d paid cash for them at some dubious antiques shop in the middle of Chinatown in Boston, one of largest Chinatown in the United States. I found a couple of good shinobi-ninja swords, not of the quality of Francis’s collection, but they were lightweight, and hopefully they would do for the time being. Unfortunately, it was illegal to carry those along with the other weapons I acquired, but I assured the owner of the shop that they were for my martial arts training. He hadn’t believed me.

  You can own them but not carry them in public except at a martial arts school if you are certified, he’d said. However, he’d looked the other way and was suddenly all smiles and praises after I dropped five hundred extra on the counter. I felt like a mercenary now, a common ninja, to Francis’s displeasure I was sure. So I prayed he would never know.

  I had been running on adrenaline alone since my arrival in Boston. I knew this had been way too easy. Maybe I should be grateful for my blessings instead of being paranoid. Demyan could have sent more of his operatives to stop me, but it was clear he didn’t want to draw attention to me. Or was this Demyan’s personal message of help? That he trusted me when I didn’t? Or was there something else I was missing… I wish I knew.

  The time had come to confront evil, just as Émil had predicted. I prayed I could take the medallion before confronting Ash. The medallion was my single bargaining chip if things went south. The paintings that Émil had done in St. Émilion had depicted me in possession of the medallion. The confusion here strove in the fact that those paintings had been done for me, so I would get to see them one day. But then again, why were they hidden from me? Another rather annoying thing was that I didn’t know exactly if that was just the past or if those paintings reflected my future.

  I needed to speak with Émil. Now would have been optimal. On the train ride, I had tried endlessly, but he was again in some ocean with endless sunny skies. It seemed that he was chasing waves farther down south in the pacific. Perhaps Australia… who knew.

  While I was bundled for the first time in my life with proper weather clothing, special snow shoes, gloves, ski mask, and even a plastic black poncho, I never felt more like I was losing my nerve.

  My sole advantage was that I was intimately related to the regular schedule of the academy and convent activities. I was hoping to sneak around without anyone noting I was there.

  That was if I would stop shaking. I couldn’t even get my hands to work their way into a long braid without messing it.

  Of all the things in the world, nothing was scarier than the possibility of losing Gavril. I crossed my fingers I wouldn’t have to. A simple in, get the medallion, free Gavril and the Sisters, and get out. I wasn’t feeling confident I could handle Ash. I merely had a prayer.

  Nonetheless, as the ferry got closer to my destination, the unavoidable feeling our paths were about to cross once again assailed my spirit. That was always how destiny worked, and I didn’t like it.

  I inhaled deep, hoping to gather some fortitude. But the cold shiver in my bones wasn’t from the frosty, bad weather. I watched from the window how the storm had begun to unleash. Thundering and deluge ramped the windowpanes of the ferry as we arrived with chilling water that would turn into ice by the first hours of the morning as the temperature dropped. It was going to be a long, cold, dank, and dark night.

  It felt like a portent against my arrival, against using the medallion and saving my best friend. I shivered again. I always disliked storms. I couldn’t help but feel the ominous darkness that waited for me on the island and prickled the back of my neck. I had no choice. I was doing this to stop Ash. I had to stop him and save Gavril and Nicholas’s mother from a terrible fate. Ash would never give up. He would never let anyone be in peace, especially me.

  Pray… Mother Clarisse used to pray with me at night during bad storms. This was one of those times. So I prayed.

  I was the only one disembarking in this island. There were not many people who would want to visit Our Lady of the Stars during winter. Just one very small inn existed on this island. The convent grounds were treated as private property because of the academy. The rest of the passengers were going to Plum Island, the last stop.

  As I stepped onto the small pier, I prayed I was strong and wise enough. I prayed I wouldn’t be scared of Asmodeus or any other evil. I prayed that I had the strength to carry this task without weaknesses. I prayed I would make my parents proud wherever they were.

  I needed to arm myself before charging in. At first, I didn’t know where, but I found an abandoned shed behind the inn that would work. At this point, I was glad I had spent the obnoxious amount buying my jacket, pants, and special boots that were water resistant as I broke into the dry, dark, and cold shed.

  Once inside, I took my jacket off and pulled Émil’s shoulder and bracelet armor out of the leather backpack. I will not be afraid. I will not… be, I repeated inside my head, as my hands trembled lightly when I activated the armor with some of the water dripping from my jacket over the Tear of Uadjet.

  The armor instantly expanded over my arm and shoulder. I proceeded to arm myself over my pants with stainless steel shuriken, ten of them with five sharp points each. The owner of the shop had made me promise they would not be used outside a martial arts dojo since I had no special certification to give him. I couldn’t really tell the old man that I was going to fight evil and not humans. So I’d lied to him.

  I put on the all-weather jacket, concerned the armor would deactivate without it. Also, I had considered to my advantage that nobody should see the armor underneath it. I folded my long braid into a looped shorter braid with an elastic band, preventing it from peeking out or tangling with the holsters as I wore the weather proof ski-mask over my head. I slipped on the katana leather holsters over it and slid the swords crossways on my back, feeling satisfied the braid wasn’t in the way. I unfolded the plastic black poncho over to keep my ski mask and head dry, which also worked to keep me hidden in the dark.

  I hadn’t eaten all day, but I couldn’t stomach anything. A little voice in my head forced me to grab a handful of granola bars I had bought as I waited for the ferry. I finished packing the leather backpack inside the large canvas bag. I was going to leave behind the notebooks, the money, and my documents. I hid all of it well.

  The storm, as promised, had turned into a torrential deluge as I came out of the abandoned shed. The one-street community had blacked out with the storm. It was a normal occurrence on the island during this kind of storm and also a providential opportunity. No one would be aware of my arrival, and no one sane enough would be daring the lightning to come this close. One thousand two, one thousand three, the sky was falling. At this point, it was the only source of light on the island. Not even demons would be out on a night like this. Good. I smirked under my ski mask, feeling cold rain droplets drip from my eyelashes before they joined their brethren on the ground. No one would ever know I was here or expect me to be on my way to Our Lady of the Stars Chapel.

  My feet moved for a few minutes along the one-single road that led to St. Mary’s, wondering if Francis was right and I had no common sense. Walking next to a forest full of tall trees in the middle of a lightning storm wasn’t too smart.

  One thousand one, one—

  The tree in my view had been struck, but it felt as if I had been the one struck. I fell on the ground. The wet ground served as vehicle for the electric charge to travel toward me. Crap.

  Instinctively my eyes shut, waiting for the pain, even my destruction. But I had just a funny feeling run through me. I opened my eyes wide. I was electrified. I raised my hand to see it glowing. A thick burst of electricity merged and melded with my green energy, shielding my entire body. Oh, well, I was a constant source of surprises. I broke into wet and dripping giggles, as a random thought crossed my mind. That of which I had been so frightened as a child, was now a source of strength. Next time, anyone threatening me with a taser woul
d be in for a big surprise. I wished I would have known of this before.

  My feet were no longer cold. I stood, realizing the energy was feeding me and warming me up. I felt stronger, lighter, and steadfast as I began to trot, sorting through without being spotted by the ghouls or demons, whatever they were.

  So far, no one had noticed my arrival, thanks to the tempest. However, I noted something peculiar. The forest seemed and felt quite safe but not the acreage of open land that belonged to the convent. I remembered it being the opposite before. Just then, the back of my neck prickled.

  Through the deluge, my sight distinguished the Georgian red brick building standing closer. However, I couldn’t see the oil lamps lit inside the convent windows. I wondered if the Sisters were all right.

  But as I crossed the convent’s circled cul-de-sac, everything my eyes could see was a horror film. Just like in a bad movie. Gray, dull, and dreadful. I couldn’t recognize the once perfectly manicured grounds nor the clean and silent convent. No. St. Mary’s looked unkept and abandoned. As if the land had been sacrilegiously profaned. Nothing seemed the same as I cautiously took the side path that led to the chapel. But it wasn’t my task to fix it. I was there to get the medallion and rescue Gavril, the queen, and the Sisters—God permitting before all hell was unleashed, or I was to confront evil.

  The cloistral stone arches and benches were entirely covered with wild overgrown vines. I looked at the path grounds covered with broken glass, nails, rough gravel, and other sharp objects. Suddenly, the entire scene intensified with the strong smell of burnt rubber. It came from tall pile of something that resembled… shoes that had been burning for a while. A dying, white smoke still rose inside what once had been the rose garden. The branches beat ceaselessly as the storm winds picked up again.

  Untouched and remained the same was the chapel, somewhat abandoned beyond the academy walls. As I walked toward the chapel, the smoke quickly faded, and the ground smelled like wet pine needles—a scent I had grown to love. It smelled like Mother Clarisse. I inhaled deeply.

  The eerie prickliness on my neck grew significantly. Caught by surprise, in a rushed move, I pulled back the sides of my poncho to draw my katanas, as I watched someone running through the dark rain toward me. White pasty figures followed after him or her. Ghouls, twenty of them. They were catching up with him or her. A she. Her long, wet hair covered part of her grimy face.

  The girl held a large brass candlestick. As she turned around with enough courage, she made a battle cry and began fighting five of the hellish creatures. This was such bad timing. I was supposed to get the medallion without being seen first. Crap.

  My hands struggled with the stupid poncho to stick my swords back inside their holsters, I could tell this was going to be a problem. Gratefully, all I needed were my bare hands for this battle, I took my gloves off and dropped them on the ground as time was of the essence.

  I began with an air kick that knocked down two of the ghouls about to take the poor girl from behind as I joined the battle. Then I pulled two other ghoulish arms into my hands. They turned into muddy ashes instantly. I continued decimating them in pairs, but I figured that it would be easier if I let them take me in one shot. Five of them went poof into mud as I let them take hold of me to try to eat me with their little sharp teeth. They were not that smart.

  I cleared the battleground for her, who had no fighting skills or golden arrow powers. She was barefoot and out of breath and shaking in the cold, as she watched me take over her battle. The pile of shoes now made some sense. Ash had made sure the girls couldn’t go too far without their shoes.

  Evil, so very evil. Ash and the Count were truly despicable. The poor girl had to be freezing, but I had no time to talk to her much as I annihilated the last of the ghouls.

  “Who the hell are you?” she shouted, sounding hysterical.

  My brain made immediate recognition of her voice. Tiffany? I gaped. I was confused and in denial. It couldn’t be her, could it? God, she looked dreadful. She wore jeans and sweatshirt, but it wasn’t simply her clothes that made her look bad. She looked as if she hadn’t seen a shower or a brush in a couple weeks. What was she doing at St. Mary’s? She was supposed to be winter skiing with her rich parents like always. Crap. Were there more girls at St. Mary’s?

  Obviously, Tiffany couldn’t recognize me. I was wearing a smooth ski mask that covered my face and platinum hair. My eyes were the only visible part to her, but it was safe to say it was too dark and rainy to see the color. Anyway, I had no time to discuss my life or her life. We weren’t exactly BFFs, and this was not the moment. I had to keep out of sight.

  I ignored her, marching to the steps of the chapel. The last thing I needed was to set off the alarm that I was back on those grounds. Time was again of the essence, before evil noted my presence.

  As I opened the wooden doors, I noticed they had been scratched recently with a hundred multiple marks. Claw marks. It got me wondering what was going on but not without shivering more. Tiffany followed me into the chapel, still holding her candle holder.

  “You won’t need that. I won’t harm you,” I told her as I examined the interior of the chapel. The chapel’s shadows fluttered around like ghosts as if I had disrupted their peace with my sudden presence. I forced my mind to stillness, but there was nothing other than crazy fears rippling inside me.

  The old pews were stacked against each other next to the pulpit as a form of barricade. A candle was lit by the cross, next to a group of girls that sat together around a figure in robes I had known my entire life. Sister Magdalene. She lay on the floor, looking paler than usual.

  Quiet understanding came like a soft breeze. Ash was expecting me to try to save everyone. I feared for all of them then. I didn’t know how to deal with this. It was a lost battle, and all I had to my advantage was the medallion. If Count Rampallion didn’t know the location of the medallion, Ash wouldn’t know.

  I was stupidly counting on it.

  “I asked, who are you?” Tiffany repeated her question, still threatening me with the candle holder.

  I shouldn’t tell her. They would be in immediate danger if they knew who I was. Nor could I tell her why I was there. I sighed.

  Another girl showed up from behind one of the pillars. I caught sight of other girls hiding in the shadows. No one had shoes. Crap.

  “Oh, please tell me you brought at least some food with you.” Tricia was sitting next to sister Magdalene, also looking very ragamuffin.

  I grinned at her although she couldn’t see my smile.

  “I have a couple granola bars with me,” I told them, moving purposely slow so they wouldn’t feel threatened—particularly Tiffany, who grabbed the granola bars out of my hands.

  She opened the packages with utter desperation, and they all waited with anxious eyes, as if they had not seen any food for days. I wondered how they had managed to keep their parents away from the school. From the pillars, three more girls showed up losing their shyness. They were starving. When the bars were shared equally among them, I knew Tiffany had changed—a lot.

  Sister Magdalene moaned and coughed. She wasn’t doing well; her pale face said as much. I dropped to my knees next to her. I felt my long katanas hit with a clang onto the floor behind me. Gasps and a gripping silence permeated the chapel, and there was speculation in everyone’s eyes. They had never seen real weapons.

  I ignored their unanswered questions. Sister Magdalene needed my help, so I concentrated my energy, melding into her. I instantly sensed what her ailment was. She had a nasty pneumonia.

  “Wh-wh-a-t i-is going on?” Tricia’s voice trembled, feeling uneasy at the sight of my blue-green energy flowing into Sister Magdalene’s body. My energy embraced her instinctively with a golden warmth that eased through her body, making the blue-green energy turn into a glow.

  “It’s like sunshine,” a young girl next to me said, a freshman. Sister Magdalene opened her eyes to see me. Her eyes stilled on mine as her lungs were
healing. Her wheezing breath was turning into a clean healthy sound. I knew she had recognized me even under the ski mask. Unexpectedly, she offered me a smile, holding my hand firmly.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Tricia and everyone else gasped again. Sister Magdalene would live to terrorize the academy for many years to come, much to the dislike of some of the girls. I winked back at her. I stood up and turned to the leader.

  “So is someone going to tell what is really going on? How come you are not with your parents?” I asked Tiffany, hoping my ski mask would muffle the sound of my voice.

  “You come here armed to the teeth with your fancy weapons into a war zone from hell, and you mean to tell me you don’t know zip?” Tiffany stared at my swords and ninja stars strapped all over my pants. Well, she had a point there. Obviously, she had seen how I’d vanquished those ghouls too. Rightfully so, she didn’t trust me. Of course, how could she? Well, the feeling was mutual. I hardly trusted her. Tricia ignored Tiffany’s accusations.

  “Hell broke loose, literally. Then they made Mother Superior call every parent to tell them everyone was to stay at school.” Tricia was no longer Tiffany’s fawning minion.

  I smiled. She, too, had changed.

  “They took our shoes,” another girl said. Her eyes glistened as she shared a piece of her granola bar with Sister Magdalene.

  More girls erupted into a plethora of voices speaking at the same time. “They punished Sister Joana.” “They tortured Sister Greta.”

  Sister Magdalene sat to chew her small bite slowly, staring at my weaponry at the same time. I wondered what they would think if they saw Émil’s armor.

  “How did you make it in here without those monsters noticing?” Tiffany asked me suspiciously.

  “The fact that you can touch consecrated soil, it is a relief,” Sister Magdalene said, surprising everyone with that piece of information.

  I never thought they would have needed to understand that concept. Internally, I debated. I didn’t have time for this, but they needed my help too. Otherwise, they were going to share the queen’s and Gavril’s fate.