Crap. I felt terrible. They all thought she was crazy, like I was. Hell seriously must have frozen or I had fallen into an alternative world. What was next? Unicorns? Tea with the Mad Hatter? A yellow brick road? Crap.
“You are going to do it again, aren’t you?” Her body shook with anger, and her tears ran freely as she accused Demyan Greco.
I turned with my jaw wide open, gaping at him. He smiled confidently back at us and turned toward Mother Superior, who was on her way to meet him wearing her boat shoes that had rubber soles and a fuzzy warm interior lining. She, like the rest of the girls, was drinking from a paper cup of steaming hot chocolate that smelled enticing with all its whipped cream. I thought this was her second cup. Crap. I didn’t like coffee.
“I must say that we are ultimately grateful for your help, Mr. Greco. However, you must explain to me… What were those people?” She paused, sort of embarrassed. “May I be honest here?”
Demyan nodded back at her.
“What were those monsters?”
He nodded back at her with the most charming and understanding sweetness I had ever seen.
“I believe we should have this conversation in private.” He walked her away from the crowd and from anyone’s hearing. Crap. His thoughts were blocked, I couldn’t access them, and that is when I noticed he was speaking carefully slow.
“Tiffany…” Raphael addressed a defeated Tiffany, who was watching the same thing.
“Miss Miller to you!” she corrected him, with a leftover superiority that I thought was gone.
Raphael inhaled, furrowing his eyebrow and trusting his muscled chest forward. “You are no different than any of us. I saw you fighting evil just like any of us did,” Raphael said, trying to reason with her.
“No. I can’t ever be like any of you.” Her despise made Raphael back away from her. She had hurt his feelings. No good.
“Tiffany, I am grateful you helped us fight real evil. Raphael lost his brother last night. I know it is not what you want to hear, but I am grateful,” I told her.
Mother Superior and Demyan Greco came back from their private conversation. Mother Superior exhibited a rather large grin. I wondered what made her so happy. Except, I couldn’t listen to her thoughts; unlike me, she was human.
“Girls, girls, everyone please gather at the main chapel in five minutes,” she ordered them.
“Go, go, be sheeple. You all will be happy idiots tomorrow,” Tiffany grumbled with disgust.
“Look, if you ever want to talk about it with someone who understands, I will give you my number,” Raphael offered.
Sister Magdalene came by her side to console her. Yes, there was confusion in Sister Magdalene’s eyes when she saw Raphael again and not like a were, but there was also gratefulness at the same time. She smiled back at Raphael and me. I didn’t think I had ever seen her smile at me before. This was a first. Francis pressed my arm gently, grabbing my attention away from the little drama.
“We must deal with Gavril’s body,” he reminded me.
I nodded back and patted Raphael’s shoulder. He had heard Francis. Raphael left a sobbing Tiffany in the care of Sister Magdalene.
I asked Francis for guidance. “So what do we do?”
“Émil said you are the only one who can open the cenotaph in the old chapel,” Francis said. What? Crap. There were just so many unexplained things I could handle.
“So how does Émil get to know these things? Or can you at least explain to me what happened back there this morning?” I pointed at the girls running toward the large main chapel inside the academy.
He inhaled with his lips tight, grinding his back molars between his jaws. He wasn’t going to tell me anything in front of Raphael or his werewolves. Crap.
Raphael didn’t make much of our conversation, so he left us alone.
“I can answer your question, Miss Pearson,” Demyan’s voice said from behind.
Francis nodded back at him. I closed my eyes, hoping not to slap Demyan. Francis turned to follow Raphael, giving us a moment.
I confronted him. “And what would be the answer to that?”
“I thought it would please you, Miss Pearson.” Was he mocking me?
“Yes—no—I don’t know, but that isn’t the point.”
He looked at me, expecting me to explain what the point was. I rolled my eyes. He got closer and whispered closer to my ear.
“It is in my voice. I can project a specific vibration that persuades most individuals into following my instructions. It is call persuasion. And that is the reason I am here to warn you not to show up at the main chapel when I am speaking to your friends.”
“So what are you going to instruct them?”
“That the terrible storm they survived has passed, and now it is all smiles and sunshine for them. Some will spend their Christmases with their family, and others will remain to help Miss Miller through her challenging time,” he said.
“What are you going to do about Tiffany?” It worried me that she was a loose end.
“Once in a while, I meet those who can’t be persuaded. Most of them have hearing issues, but not her. Don’t worry too much. Everyone will know that her beautiful imagination and written stories gave nightmares to some of her friends, but that became a blur in the past because they were so happy to see you again, the super star student—” He stopped, examining my frown. “Was that too much?”
I nodded, shaking my confused head at the same time. “And how will you explain the burnt shoes?”
He grinned at my perspicacity. “That they have done a great deed by donating them to charity. Don’t worry, my operatives will leave no trace of evidence.”
“Have you ever persuaded me?”
“I thought of it.” He tilted his face with his charming smirk, the one with the cute dimple. “But I like you more as you are, even when you hate me.”
The conversation was turning toward a place I didn’t want to go, particularly when I felt so brokenhearted with the loss of Gavril and the situation of Nicholas gone to who knows where. My gaze turned toward Francis who waited on top of the little hill for me to follow.
“They are waiting for me. I got to go. I turned around and clearly heard a deep sigh.
I reached Francis, and we strode in silence after that, until reaching the large cross. Raphael and two wolves sat next to Gavril’s body. It broke my heart all over again.
Don’t cry, Gavril promptly showed up.
I let you down, I told him, barely holding a sob fest as we watched Raphael lifting Gavril’s body up.
“No, I let you down. I couldn’t free the queen in time, but all that is water under the bridge.” He smiled at me.
I don’t think you should be here right now, I suggested.
“And miss my funeral?” Exactly because of that.
So how is Nicholas?
He posed no resistance, and yet the brutes shot him without questions, and now he is sleeping—ehem—flying high on his way to who knows, maybe Timbuktu, Gavril complained. So he didn’t know where they were taking him either. Crap.
What are we going to do with him? We didn’t have an answer, so we both became silent as we entered the little old chapel. Raphael deposited Gavril’s body onto one of the disorderly pews.
In the far-right corner of the chapel, the large marble cenotaph stood empty as a monument in honor of the convent order’s founder. It was directly across from Our Lady of The Stars, who looked defiled without the medallion. I didn’t know why it bothered me so much to see her with a hole in her chest.
“Have the wolves guarding the entrance,” Francis ordered Raphael.
He nodded in agreement and gave a nod to his second, who was inside with us.
I reached for the rectangular large piece that had never been opened before. How did Émil know?
I read the inscription carved in the marble carefully. Maximilien Emile Augustine of Hippo Regius. Of course. Émil had founded the convent, where he had hidden the medalli
on all these years. I looked for any other clues in the cenotaph, something I could work with. The entire piece had been carved with guilded moldings along the bottom edge, but at the center of each side, there was a small cross with twelve points. Three sides had an identical carving, but the fourth one in the back did not. The one no one sees. That Cathar cross was slightly larger with a metal eyelet.
The Tear of Uadjet…
I pulled my jacket off, making Francis and Raphael gasp at the sight of my shining armor.
“It was Émil who put you onto the medallion. I should have known.” Francis kicked the cenotaph, shaking his head.
“No, he didn’t. I think he made this—all this.” My gaze traveled around the chapel and the Lady of The Stars, ending at my armor. “He made it without exactly knowing if I was going to be the one using it—hoping I wouldn’t.”
I licked one of my fingers and rubbed it over the tear. My armor became undone. I took the egg-shaped metal toy and placed it carefully inside the eyelet of the cenotaph. I repeated the process of licking my finger and rubbing it over it.
The tear mechanism made a set of strange, high-pitched stone-and-metal squeaks until the top lapidary stone screeched as it slid open, releasing a cloud of dust as the vacuum-sealed tomb opened.
We all approached closer to see the interior. Inside, there was a sword and a small leather package, covered in a thick crust of powdery dust. Francis grabbed the sword and examined it.
“This used to be Émil’s sword,” he said.
I took the package and untied the leather strap. Inside, there was a marble replica of the medallion, except that it was attached to a stone bottle-stopper look-alike. I grinned at the ludicrous situation. He knew centuries ago that Our Lady of The Stars was going to use this piece to cover the hole in her chest.
I strode toward the statue and plugged the small stone piece into her chest. I inhaled, feeling that at least one simple thing had been solved, even when my entire life felt like it was pending.
Ash was still out there waiting for the best opportunity to annoy me. Nicholas was officially confined and away from me, and my best friend had become a nitwitted ghost. I looked at him, trying to comfort his brother who couldn’t hear or see him. And here I stood next to his poor broken body. I brushed a lock of hair out of his face and kissed his forehead. Then I searched for the medallion in his pockets. I found it in his left one and pulled it out. Instantly, I felt the tingling in my hand. I slid it as fast as I could inside the leather pouch Émil had left with the stone copy. I tied the leather strap with more force than I should.
With outmost reverence, Raphael lifted Gavril’s body and placed it inside the marble tomb. I prayed the last lines of the “Dies Irae,” since I couldn’t even get myself together as I broke into sobbing. Francis held me in his arms.
“You must close it,” he told me.
I squatted to reach for the tear as I hiccupped my sobs. I closed the cenotaph, and we walked out of the chapel. Gavril had stayed strangely silent throughout. I didn’t blame him.
As soon as we reached the convent, the queen was waiting for us. She looked cheerful and clean. Her hair had been chopped in a simple bob, and she had been given a thick brown tunic the novices wore during winter. She also had on a pair of the thick boat shoes.
The academy appeared to be quiet. Too quiet.
Demyan was talking to someone on his ear piece when he saw us. He nodded back at Francis. It felt like a previously discussed exchange.
“Is time we depart,” Francis said to me. “This is for you. I think Émil left it for you.” He handed me the sword. Why did it feel like he was saying goodbye? “I must take the queen back to the palace,” he explained. It was a goodbye.
I nodded back, looking at the ground for moral support. This day could be counted as one of my worst. I had lost my best friend, Nicholas had been transformed into a beast, and Francis was leaving me to save the kingdom. He held my hand, understanding I wasn’t feeling very happy. “You must stay out of the kingdom’s sight. The official story will be that Our Royal Highness and you are taking some time off getting to know each other.”
Crap. That meant that under no circumstance should I travel to France.
“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” I asked him.
“You are going to college, Miss Pearson,” I heard Demyan’s voice say from behind.
I turned around to see him. College. Exactly what I had wanted for a long time. The institution with higher education, cute boys, and parties. Yes, that place I had told myself over and over I wanted to go to. Remember?
Crap. Why wasn’t I excited and feeling so miserable? The answer was in the air and in the incessant fluttering that hummed in my chest, compelling me to reach back for Nicholas. I was in love with Nicholas. Utterly crazy about him… Crap.
Things had changed. My life had changed. I had changed.
I couldn’t help it.
And unlike Pandora, I wasn’t the least tempted to open the box. I was going to find a way to save Nicholas one way or another. I was going to wait patiently, prepare, and beat the demons out of Asmodeus when I met him again.
That’s what I promise.
May the stars help us.
Note from the Author
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About the Author
Sophia Alessandrini is a cum laude BS graduate in Mathematical Physics. She studied and traveled all over Europe, always fantasizing about the middle ages, dragons, ghosts, and fairies. For fun she wrote short stories to read to her sister and young cousins during Christmas family gatherings. When she returned to America and discovered cooking, she became a Chef. However, stories were always popping in her head all the time, making her realize that her first love was writing.
She resides in Southern California but drags her notes and colorful pencils down to the beaches of sunny Baja South very often, so she can write all of her new story ideas. She also enjoys walks on the beach at sunrise, collecting seashells and beach glass, always wondering about mermaids. She loves anything cute with little four legs, including frogs (although she avoids the kissing part) and iguanas, that she names after green food items when they show up at her door step.
When she escapes into the magic of the California forests, Sophia ponders about the existence of elementals, fairies, werewolves and Big Foot. You will find her sitting down with a book in hand, hiding in corner of the nearest coffee shop when she isn't writing.
Legends of Astræa: Cupid's Arrow Book 1 (Legends of Astræa Series) Page 58
