Witch Marked: Shadow Academy, #3

By Jamie Campbell

The supernatural council sent their Black Cloaks to arrest me. I was dragged away and sentenced to death. How the hell was I going to get out of that mess?

 

Not everything was as it seemed in the council offices. I now have a last-ditch attempt to save my life and that of my friends. But I have to be careful. One false move and the council will know where I am and come directly for me.

 

With my grandmother's help, and the principal's son still involved in the saga, I might just be able to devise a plan that will see my name cleared and the curse that had plagued me to be vanquished. All I have to do is follow the plan.

 

But, as we all know, I'm not great at sticking to the rules. In this final epic battle, I will fight with everything I have until I am free again. I will not let my friends ruin their lives for me. I will not let the executioner have my head.

 

Surviving at Shadow Academy is not for the faint-hearted.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jamie Campbell
• Release date: Nov 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201330828

Jamie Campbell

Jamie was born into a big, crazy family of 6 children. Being the youngest, she always got away with anything and would never shut up. Constantly letting her imagination run wild, her teachers were often frustrated when her 'What I did on the weekend' stories contained bunyips and princesses.Growing up, Jamie did the sensible things and obtained a Bachelor of Business degree from Southern Cross University and worked hard to gain her membership with the Institute of Chartered Accountants in Australia.Yet nothing compared to writing. Quiting the rat race to spend quality time with her laptop named Lily, Jamie has written several novels and screenplays. Spanning a number of genres and mediums, Jamie writes whatever inspires her from ghost stories to teenage love stories to tantalising murder mysteries. Nothing is off limits.A self-confessed television addict, dog lover, Taylor Swift fan, and ghost hunter, Jamie loves nothing more than the thrill of sharing her stories.

Book preview

Chapter 1

My execution was scheduled for noon. I could only assume they chose that time because it sounded dramatic. Like we were cowboys going to have a duel outside the saloon.

I was returned to my cell after the trial that decided my fate. I counted off the three days carefully using nothing but my watch. I kept track of whether it was day or night aboveground.

When it was ten minutes to noon on the third day, I heard the elevator doors swish open at the end of the corridor. It was followed by the footsteps of the Black Cloaks.

There were three of them this time. I guessed they sent more for an execution escort, just in case the prisoner was extra volatile.

All my fight had left me. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. There was nothing else I could do except to hold my head up high and wait for it to be over.

Really, I’d been expecting this day since my eighteenth birthday. When my powers didn’t appear it had sealed my fate. A non-supernatural would not be allowed to live—whether it was because they were a roach or because they were cursed like me.

I willingly gave my arms to the Black Cloaks and two of them grabbed onto me. The third followed us from behind, always looking for signs of rebellion. They would get none from me today.

All I had to do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. If I didn’t think too hard, maybe I could pretend I was going somewhere else. That this was just another little adventure and it would be over soon.

I wished my brain was as focused as that. My mind kept wandering. It always went back to the same place—everything I was about to miss by being murdered. I had so many things still to do, so many things still to experience, and so many things to say to those I loved.

My greatest regret was not being able to see my parents before I died. I really wished they had come to see me. I doubted prisoners were allowed any visitors, but maybe we were. It would have been nice to speak with them one last time.

As much as I missed my parents, I hoped with everything I had that they wouldn’t be in the audience at my execution. I didn’t want them seeing that. They’d raised me, loved me, cared for me. Seeing me die shouldn’t be their last memory of me.

I was pushed into the elevator and lost my stomach as we whizzed straight up to the foyer of the main building. This was now the second time I had left the cells and I was even filthier now than before.

People looked at me differently this time. I was no longer just a criminal on trial. I was a convicted criminal now and it seemed everybody knew where I was headed today.

Did they advertise executions? Would it be a public spectacle today? How could people want to see something like that in this day and age? I would never want to see anyone be killed, whether they were guilty of a crime or not.

When did everyone get so bloodthirsty?

I got my answer as soon as I stepped outside. It seemed that the council got a kick out of executing people outside in the square. All the factions’ buildings surrounded the space so the viewing opportunities were vast. Everyone could be a witness today, from the comfort of their air-conditioned offices to visitors in the square. Maybe I’d be the hot topic of conversation around the water coolers.

Nobody had told me how I was to be killed. They lacked giving out any information in general. I wasn’t surprised when there was a guillotine propped up on a wooden stage in the middle of the square.

My head was going to roll.

I don’t know why, but I felt like laughing at the thought. It was going to messy and bloody. Was that really how the council wanted to do this? Surely a noose would have had the same dramatic effect and been much tidier? Maybe they weren’t worried about cleaning up afterward.

At least the guillotine would bring a swift death. Having your head removed from the rest of your body should end things quite quickly, I would think. Hanging would take a little bit of time. Perhaps they were actually being kind in their method of murder.

My hands were bound behind my back as I stood at the bottom of the platform. I was then ordered to take the steps up. The Black Cloaks came with me for the whole journey.

An executioner wearing a brown leather mask was waiting next to the instrument of death. He ordered the Black Cloaks to position me next to the bench where I would lie down for the last time.

A large black bucket was placed at the end of the wooden bench to catch my head when it rolled. It all seemed so foreign to me. Like I was watching it happen on television instead of experiencing it myself. Maybe that was a mercy. If I pretended it wasn’t me then perhaps I would be able to get through it.

A crowd was gathering. As it turned out, people really did like to watch executions. The square filled up with people as the minutes dragged past. They were a macabre bunch. I could never watch something like this.

An official council representative walked up the platform. He was wearing a gray suit and looked so formal compared to the rest of us.

When he spoke, his voice sounded like it was coming from a microphone. He had to be a warlock. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today. We are here to witness the execution of Eden Musgrave. She has been found guilty of breaching the Supernatural Secrecies Act in the first degree and will today pay for her misdeeds.

I wished he would hurry up and get it over and done with. The torture was in waiting for it to happen. I wouldn’t care so much after I was dead.

The warlock faced me. Eden Musgrave, do you understand and accept your punishment here today?

Was he seriously expecting an answer? The Black Cloak next to me squeezed my arm when I took too long to respond.

So apparently he did an expect an answer. I guess, I said. It wasn’t like there was anything I could do about it. The people in the square came to see an execution and the council would give them what they wanted.

They looked at the councilor for his reaction. He nodded. That will do. Go ahead.

The Black Cloaks didn’t need any further encouragement. They pushed me down onto the bench. I lost my footing and fell the rest of the way—hard. All the air was knocked out of my lungs in one quick whoosh.

The executioner grabbed me and shoved me into position, lying straight along the bench. He had rough hands and cold eyes. I looked straight into his hazel gaze and saw nothing there. He was a puppet, nothing more.

Stay still, he sneered.

I wasn’t exactly putting up a fight. All I was doing was trying to get enough air into my lungs so I could breathe again. I’m sure they didn’t want me to pass out before they could kill me.

The executioner pulled me up the bench so my head hung over the end. All I could see was the black plastic bucket. This was it. This was really how my life was going to end.

He secured my head with leather straps so it was impossible to move. My neck was open and exposed with my hair brushed to the side.

They were going to murder me.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

Chapter 2

I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to see what came next. Hopefully I wouldn’t feel any pain and then I’d just float on up to the hereafter.

Everything was very quiet all of a sudden.

This was it.

The moment.

I took as big a breath as I could and silently thanked the Goddess for the life I’d had. I thanked her for my family and the friends I’d made. Right up until I was eighteen, everything had been great. I was very fortunate. I had a lot to be grateful for.

Why was it so quiet?

I heard the soft clunking of wood and rope as the executioner fiddled with the lever. I supposed he wanted to make sure it worked before he sent the blade careening toward my neck.

My head was a mess of thoughts. I wasn’t exactly seeing my life flash before my eyes but it was close. I had a million images, sounds, and senses all happening at once. Each of them only contributed toward my panic. It was going to be anything but a peaceful end for me.

A loud bang broke the quiet and made me jump. I was strapped down so I couldn’t move to see what had caused it. When I opened my eyes, all I could see was the bucket and I did not want to stare at it and be reminded what was about to be in there.

Ten thousand things all happened at once. The loud bang was followed by a string of noises, some louder and some quieter.

People started yelling and it sounded like they were trying to move in a hurry. Did something freak out the audience? Why was everyone making such a commotion?

I thought I could sense the executioner and the Black Cloaks moving too. Their robes brushed along my foot. One of the executioner’s legs came into view as he moved to stand beside my head. He was away from the lever so he couldn’t let the rope go now.

I struggled against my bindings. If I could just get a hand free, I could try to release my head so I could look up again. But it was futile, they were all secured so tightly there was absolutely no give.

The level of movement ramped up around me when more loud bangs erupted. People were screaming as the sound of footsteps rushed through the square.

What the hell was going on?

Hurry up and do it! The order came from the councilor. His voice was flustered now, angry but still recognizable.

The executioner moved back to his position so I could no longer see his legs. I wished he would hurry up and get it over with. Surely waiting for the blade to fall was actually worse than it falling.

Don’t you dare move an inch! This command came from a female. She sounded much angrier than the councilor.

Magic crackled in the air around me. It sent goosebumps shooting down my arms and caused the hair to stand up on the back of my neck. Something big was happening around me and I was too tightly tied to see anything.

Things went bang and thumped on the platform around me. I could feel the vibrations through the bench. I hoped they didn’t accidently cause the blade to fall. It had to be a clean cut, otherwise it could be