The Coven - Academy Magic Complete Series

by Chandelle LaVaun

  I pursed my lips and eyed him. He was hot. And I liked his vibe—very laid back and easy going. Why can’t I be into him? Maybe I still can be? Maybe I needed to be proactive in my hunt to get over Jackson. I sighed. That wasn’t exactly how love was supposed to go. Not that I was in love with Jackson, but whoever I fell for, it should’ve started with an emotion or attraction and not logical thinking. Right? It had to. I took a deep breath and forced my gaze away from Harlan—and landed on Jackson.

  His aquamarine eyes were locked on me and narrowed. An explosion of butterflies filled my stomach. I stared at the ground then practically sprinted to my seat and gripped the chair. Why was he still watching me? Did I have something on my face or a ketchup stain on my shirt? He hadn’t spoken to me since Labor Day, which was two days ago. I squirmed in my seat. With his eyes on me, I couldn’t think straight. He needed to look away before I did something stupid like look back.

  The final bell rang, and then Mona walked up to the front of the class. “Today we’re making talismans. Each witch needs a working tool that is created just for them, charged to be what that witch needs. What your talisman is depends on your Suit. Wands, you’ll be making wands. Cups, you’ll be making chalices. Swords, yours are swords. Pentacles, yours are amulets.”

  My jaw dropped. I’m making a sword today?

  “Now, this is a sacred ritual that has to be done in specific ways,” Mona continued as she paced across the front of the class. “By now you’ve noticed your Majors standing behind me. You’re going to go with them to make your talisman. All right, Swords, follow Jackson.”

  I’d rather not.

  But I stood anyway, knowing it was a hopeless thought. About a dozen of us followed Jackson like little baby ducks. He didn’t speak or even look back to make sure we were there. He just led us out of the building, past the Swords training facility, and went around the back to where a small wooden cabin-like building sat nestled between some oak trees. Timothy stood in front of the doors with his hands behind his back. He looked like a lumberjack in his red flannel shirt, and it brought a smile to my face.

  As we approached him, he smiled and gave us a nod. He waited for Jackson to take his flank, then looked out to us. “This talisman you’re about to make should be your most sacred possession. It will be a sword to use in combat, but it will have specific qualities made only for you. This weapon will aid you in more ways than one. Inside you’ll find every single type of sword imaginable. Think of them like blank keys. You’re going to walk around, hold them, swing them around, do the hokey-pokey if you need to. But you’re going to find one that calls to you.”

  “How will we know?” someone in the front asked.

  “It’s different for everyone, but you should feel or see something.” Timothy gestured behind him. “Now, once you find your blade, you’re going to take it to the bowl, recite the spell, then dip it into the holy water to transform it into your talisman. Okay, let’s get started.”

  Timothy and Jackson turned in unison, then pulled the doors open. I followed my classmates inside, ignoring the smell of Christmas as I walked past him. This was too important to let him get in my head.

  When I got inside, I froze. My jaw dropped. On the outside, the cabin had been small, maybe eight feet tall, but inside it had to be three stories high. Each of the four walls was lined with swords of every size and shape. The bronze color of the metal glistened in the sunlight pouring through the glass ceiling. On each wall, there were two ladders that slid up and down so people could climb to the weapons higher up.

  It was a library of swords.

  I took a few steps farther in then spun in a circle. My classmates looked like Black Friday shoppers at four in the morning as they searched in a panic. I shook my head. Rushing around just didn’t feel right in here. There was a serene energy floating around us that I didn’t want to disturb.

  “Oh my God.”

  When I turned toward the sound, I found one of my classmates holding a short sword in both hands. A golden spotlight shined down on him from above. He grinned and looked at his weapon like it was his newborn baby. Timothy and Jackson rushed over.

  I walked away before the sound of Jackson’s voice could ruin the peace of the moment. I just needed to try some weapons on until one clicked. I moved down the right wall, but all of the weapons there were types of daggers. They were probably a great weapon to own, but if I were going to use this to fight demons, I wanted a little more distance between it and me. I shuddered as the memory of that eight-armed demon flashed through my mind.

  Focus, Bettina. I moved on to the next wall but found the opposite problem. These were all ridiculously long. I might have been tall enough for one, but I seriously doubted I had the arm strength to wield one. Two lights flashed in front of me as two more First Years found their weapon. Frustrated, I turned to scope out the opposite wall when I noticed the pedestal in the center.

  It was beautiful, sitting in the brightest ray of sunlight. On top, the pedestal was a bowl, holding inside it the deepest, darkest royal blue I’d ever seen. Holy water. I walked over to get a closer look but stopped short. There was a ring of what looked like salt surrounding the pedestal. Over to my left, the little circle was open, though I got the distinct impression we weren’t supposed to step inside until told to do so.

  One of my classmates cursed. I looked up, prepared to yell at him for being so disrespectful when something caught my eye. I frowned. A little ball of white light hovered in front of my face. I glanced around to see if anyone else noticed it, but no one was paying any attention to me. The orb seemed to be waiting for me. I couldn’t have said how I knew that either. It was just an instinct. I licked my lips then nodded at the light.

  It bounced then shot across the room to the far corner. Unable to curb my curiosity, I hurried to follow the glowing orb. When I got over there, it dropped down to circle my right hand, floated over to the wall…and landed on a bronze sword about the length of my arm. It was narrow at the top, with an angled guard at the bottom of the hilt. The blade was long and curved slightly, but the tip narrowed into a sharp point.

  With a shaky hand, I reached out and grabbed the hilt. I gasped. The second my skin touched the metal, warmth rushed up my arm. It tingled a little, but not uncomfortably. Something in the air around me shimmered. I felt light on my feet. I smiled and gave the sword a test swing. When I pulled it back, my eyes widened. Pink mist wrapped around my hand and the hilt of the sword.

  “A falchion,” Timothy’s deep voice said softly from right behind me.

  I spun with my heart in my throat. “Is that bad?”

  He shook his head, and there was a slight smile on his face. “It’s a wonderful weapon. There’s only one person in Edenburg with a falchion talisman right now.”

  “Let me guess. You?” I grinned and adjusted my hold on the hilt.

  “No, not me.” He arched one eyebrow then pointed across the room to where a pair of aquamarine eyes were watching us. “Jackson.”

  We chose the same sword. I had no idea what that meant, but I didn’t like the way it made my pulse beat all weird and irregular. It’s not cute. It’s not. He’s an ass. I don’t like him.

  I don’t like him.

  I sighed. Goddess, please make me stop liking him.

  “All right,” Timothy yelled, interrupting my inner tailspin. “Everyone has found their weapon, so let’s move to the pedestal. But do not touch the circle or go inside.”

  I felt Jackson’s gaze on me, so I kept mine on my new weapon as I walked over to the pedestal with everyone else. Of course he must’ve enjoyed torturing me because he stood directly opposite me, towering over the others. I kept my eyes down on the holy water.

  Timothy chanted something in the ancient language, which I now recognized the sound of. When he was done, light flashed above the water. Six lines of words in perfect, elegant script were written in the air, glowing a bright white. I couldn’t read them from my angle, but something told me I
’d be able to once I got up there.

  “When I call your name, step inside the circle, recite the spell, then place the blade of your weapon in the holy water.” Timothy moved to stand by the opening of the circle. “When the water turns crystal clear, your talisman is complete. Caleb, why don’t you go first.”

  Caleb stepped into the circle, holding his broadsword up. He recited the spell then lowered the bronze blade into the holy water. Thirty seconds went by before the water turned clear. When he pulled it out, the entire weapon glistened a bright silver. A soft murmur went around the circle.

  He moved out of the circle, then Timothy called for someone else. One by one, everyone repeated Caleb’s actions. The length of time the holy water needed varied, but each time they pulled their weapons out, it looked different than it had going in. I looked down at my falchion sword and tried to imagine what it might change into. This bronze color was pretty, but so were the golds and silvers in the others’.

  “Bettina,” Timothy said softly. “You’re up.”

  I nodded and took a shaky breath. Every single pair of eyes in the room turned to me, but I’d grown accustomed to that among my Swords class. I was the girl who didn’t belong. The one who couldn’t fight. The one who couldn’t use my own magic. But in this moment, none of that mattered.

  The words of the spell glittered in front of me. I licked my lips, then read them out loud, “I call thee Goddess for this sacred bond, Blessings of power from the ancient beyond. With magic and valor, honor and creed, Transform this blade to what I need. Dipped in the water of thy holy well, See sword and soul in parallel.”

  The air shimmered, and a little white arrow appeared, pointing down to the pedestal. With my heart in my throat and my breath trapped in my lungs, I gently laid the blade of my falchion sword inside the holy water. That royal blue water pulsed like an earthquake rumbled underneath it. I gasped. It hadn’t done that to anyone else. Little waves rippled across the surface, splashing and crashing into each other.

  Everyone else took a step back.

  All at once, the water flattened out. In the blink of an eye, that bowl of holy water turned bright pink. My eyes widened. The hilt warmed in my hand, and then that pink mist billowed out of the water and coiled around the hilt, slipping between my fingers. My knuckles were white from how tight I gripped the thing, but I couldn’t get myself to loosen them.

  And then just as quickly as it started…it stopped.

  The water turned crystal clear. Everyone leaned forward, but no one spoke. I raised my sword out of the holy water, and the breath I’d been holding left me in a rush. I wavered on my feet but stayed upright. Hushed voices murmured around me, some of them sharp with concern while others filled with laughter.

  My sword was white, yet not. I raised it higher, and the colors changed. My eyebrows rose. I twisted it around, looking from different angles. It was mostly white while every other color at the same time. The top half was tinted in shades of blues and greens while the bottom half, the part that curved, had soft reds and pinks.

  I pulled it close to my face. The guard and the top of the hilt were a shimmery, bright gold. But the hilt itself was black with colorful rings around it. “What the…”

  “Let me see?” Timothy asked softly. When I held it out, he took it in both hands. His eyes sparkled in a way I’d never seen from him before. Even his cheeks flushed. He grinned and shook his head while staring at it.

  “Timothy, what is it? What does it mean? No one else’s looks like—”

  “It’s crystal.” He held it up as everyone looked on. “The blade is fire opal. It contains the qualities of every other stone and can be charged with energy for all types of magic. The hilt is solid onyx which is great for courage, physical strength, defensive magic, magical energy… Oh shit, look at that. See these bands around the hilt? Those are rings of black opal. If you look close, you’ll see little specks of color. This stone is for power.”

  WHAT? I opened my mouth then closed it.

  The room fell silent.

  Timothy stared at it for a moment longer, twisting it around to inspect the blade. Then he handed it back to me. “Be proud of this sword, Bettina. It’s a true gift from the Goddess.”

  “But…but why is mine crystal when the others’ aren’t?”

  He shrugged but something in his eyes told me he had more opinions on it. “She must’ve seen the same thing the crystal ball did when it briefly considered you a Wand. It appears She wanted you to have both a sword talisman and a wand. Congratulations.”

  I looked around at my fellow Swords’ weapons and felt a burst of pride. Yes, mine was prettier, but it also had meanings and uses. I glanced back up to ask Timothy something, except he was gone. The door behind me opened, and Timothy led the other Swords back outside.

  The Christmas scent washed over me. I shivered and looked up. He stood right next to me, his aquamarine eyes watching me closely. I braced myself for a nasty comment, but one never came. He just kept looking at me.

  I arched one eyebrow. “What, if you don’t have something snarky to say, don’t say anything at all?”

  He glared. “Goddess forbid Barbie has a hideous sword.” Then he stormed off.

  I grinned. That was more like it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BETTINA

  It was after three on Friday, and we were supposed to be out of class in less than thirty minutes. The rest of the Swords were winding down, doing light drills for technique. Me, on the other hand? I was by myself, tucked into a corner and working on my kicks. I swung my leg forward and up. Except just like every other time, I barely got my foot to my chest’s height.

  “Lean back,” a deep male voice said.

  I jumped and spun around to find Warner watching me. His black tank was wet and clung to his body. The tattoos glistened under the sweat on his skin. He smiled. “You’re almost there, but you’re missing the trick. Can I show you?”

  I sighed. “Please, thank you.”

  He chuckled and moved to stand beside me in fighting position, with his left leg in front. “All right, first, and especially when you’re doing a kick, you want to exhale as you do it. So you’re like pushing your air and your strength, and it gives you more power.”

  I frowned but nodded. That was a technique I would’ve liked to have known earlier.

  “Okay, now, any time you kick you want to engage your core. That’s where you’re gonna get your power and stability from. So when you go to kick, tighten your abs then pull your leg up. Watch my abs.” He held his hands up in fists by his chest then swung his knee up. As he did it, his ab muscles constricted. “Trust me. It’s important.”

  My face fell. No one had told me that. “Oh. Okay.” I copied what he’d just done a few times.

  “Right, just like that. Perfect. Now, for kicks, you gotta stabilize yourself, or all that power you’re throwin’ won’t do shit.” He pointed to his feet. “Watch the difference here. If I stay on the balls of my feet and kick, see my leg isn’t going as high. But now if I sink on my heels a tad and lean back, it lets your leg have full range of motion. Here, you try just the last part.”

  I nodded and rolled into fighting stance, holding my hands up just like he had. Then I swung my leg forward, sinking into my left heel and leaning back as I did it. My foot slammed into the bag.

  I gasped and bounced on my feet. “I hit it!”

  Warner clapped. “Yes, girl. See, you can totally do this. You’re just new. Once you get your breathing technique right and learn form, you’ll be fierce. I mean, girl, you got long-ass legs, so you could just do a side kick and hit—”

  “Warner!” Jackson yelled from behind us.

  Warner spun around. “Yeah? I’m just teaching her—”

  “Class is over,” he snapped. “Let’s go.”

  Warner cursed and looked down at his watch. “Sorry, Ms. B, we got somewhere to be. Practice that! Have a nice weekend!”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks for
your help!”

  And just like that, he was gone. I shook my head and tried to fight the tears that were threatening to spill. It was such an odd thing to be emotional over. It was just…no one had actually helped me like that yet. We’d had two full weeks of school, but I hadn’t had that kind of one-on-one training. Genevieve and Erin hated me because I was making female Swords look bad—which was verbatim from those two, actually. Trey and Warner had been assigned to some of the other First Years, so they hadn’t been there to help. Jackson had, but he barely spoke to me and it turned out words were required for teaching.

  It was just a huge relief to have someone teach me something as simple as lean back, and it changed the whole game for me. I hit the bag on my first try, and I wasn’t even trying.

  “Hey, Princess.”

  I froze at the sound of Erin’s voice. They can smell fear. Be strong. I took a deep breath then turned to find her glaring at me. “Yes?”

  “I’m sick of watching you push your hair back. It’s a stupid length for Swords.” She pointed to her best friend across the room. “Either go short like Gen, or long like me so you can actually put it up out of the way.”

  “Oh…umm…thanks. I’ll try to grow it out.”

  She rolled her pale brown eyes. “Ask Lennox to do it.” Without another word, she spun and headed toward the door.

  I just stood there staring at her back. What just happened? Two people gave me helpful, unsolicited advice back-to-back. I pinched myself then flinched. Nope. Not dreaming. Erin had made a great point, one I was ashamed to say I hadn’t thought of. My hair was shoulder length and refused to stay tied at the back of my head. I was always pushing it behind my ears, or redoing my ponytail. Ask Lennox to do it. I didn’t know what she meant, but I was going to find out.