Omnibus Three: Magical Arts Academy ~ Books 9-13

by Ashta, Lucia

“Honestly, Isa, I have no idea what it is, but I can’t wait to get back to the estate to ask someone about it.”

  I nodded, still stunned. The hill he referred to was so far away that to me it was no more than a hazy outline of a shape, and my eyesight was good... for a normal person, which I really wasn’t anymore, but you get my drift. “Mordecai and Albacus will probably flip out over it. From what I’ve heard, they love learning new things about magic.”

  “I guess that’s what happens when you’ve lived forever: you have to find exciting things to keep you engaged.”

  “I can’t believe—”

  But Nando would never get to hear what I couldn’t believe.

  An explosion rocked the air with such intensity that I experienced it as a slap against my flesh. The air, suddenly sweltering, pressed against my skin. As soon as the sensation began, I wanted it to stop.

  Trixie and the other horses whinnied and snorted, shaking their heads in what I assumed was an attempt to rid themselves of the invasive heat that pressed against us.

  In the aftermath of what had to have been Simon’s explosion, even the sound had been sucked out of the air. My heartbeat was loud as it pounded through my head; my breathing sounded coarse and heavy to my ears.

  All I could do was work to hold Sir Lancelot steady as Trixie snorted her complaints. I was worried she might buck, and one-handed, I’d certainly fall and further injure Sir Lancelot. I worked to overcome my own panic as I sent her calming thoughts, hoping she could actually sense them.

  The silence that had engulfed us burst with a pop, and a rushing roar replaced it.

  I looked from Gertrude’s rearing horse up ahead to Nando, but I didn’t manage to make eye contact. His horse was resisting his efforts to calm more than Trixie. His expression was frantic as he clutched at his horse’s sides with strong thighs and wrapped his arms around its neck. Even so, he attempted to flick his gaze to the right where I was. Knowing him, he was probably more worried about me than himself, head injury and all.

  Another blast rocked the chaos that had engulfed us so suddenly. Trixie snorted, huffed, and shook her head with renewed enthusiasm, and Gertrude slid off her horse as it bucked and charged off. Ow, that must have hurt.

  The pressure from this second blast pressed painfully against my eardrums, and my entire skin erupted in a sheen of sweat.

  If this was all Simon then no wonder the wicked duke wanted to get his hands on him.

  A wave—of heat, sound, energy, I couldn’t tell as it overwhelmed me—lunged into me from behind, pushing me downward against the saddle. I had to use every muscle my abdomen and thighs possessed to keep from crushing the precious cargo I held. I imagined all this had woken Sir Lancelot, but he hadn’t said anything, and I was beyond able to check on him, Elwin, or Nando anymore.

  A third blast, impossibly stronger than the previous ones, pushed against us with such force that Trixie skidded across the dirt beneath her hooves, unable to gain traction. She slid for several lengths before finally drawing to a stop.

  Trixie jumped in protest. As if even in her desperation she’d remembered me, she didn’t jump high enough to throw me, or the owl I held, off.

  Elwin? I called through my mind, but if he answered me, I couldn’t hear him over the pounding pulse howling through my veins as loudly as the roar behind us. I panted and struggled to pull in sufficient breath. My legs trembled from the effort of clinging to Trixie’s back.

  My eyeballs vibrated uncomfortably from the desperation to do something to ease the discomfort, without any idea how.

  When another wave didn’t arrive to rock us, I cast a look behind me. I caught sight of Elwin flying erratically behind us, silhouetted by a wall of flame so bright and so large that it obliterated everything else.

  What of the others? My heartbeat stuttered before resuming its accelerated pace. There was no way they could have survived the explosion if they were anywhere near it. Surely they took sufficient precaution... but the thought that they might not have anticipated how enormous the blast would be had me even more panicked than I already was.

  Trixie snorted again and shook her head, and I dared to lean down and rub my hand down her neck. It was hot and sweaty, but I hoped that my touch would calm her... and that she wouldn’t throw me now that I leaned forward.

  I glanced to the left to see Nando struggling to subdue his horse. The horse bucked wildly, but Nando was a skilled horseman. He had a chance at remaining on him.

  Besides, there was nothing I could do to help him beyond calming my own horse. If I managed to settle Trixie, it might influence his horse. I certainly couldn’t draw near him without making things worse.

  Up ahead, the others fared no better. Gertrude was rising from the ground, rubbing at her rump. Her horse was off to the side just out of reach. Brave, Marcelo, Clara, and Count Vabu remained in their saddles, but it wasn’t clear whether that would remain the case for long.

  “Do you think you’re ready to turn around?” I asked Trixie, though I really didn’t think she was. Still, I was desperate to get a better look at the castle—or what was left of it—and I needed to spot the others to make sure they’d survived.

  I returned to my upright position in the saddle, clenched my legs as tightly as I could without harming the mare, and nudged the reins to turn her. Here goes nothing. But to my surprise, Trixie turned right away, with no more complaint than before. Perhaps she, too, needed to see what was behind us, if for nothing else than to keep an eye on the threat that pulsed out at us in invisible attack.

  At once I took in Elwin, who was unharmed and looked straight at me, and the inferno that was the duke’s castle.

  The castle had been large. The dungeon alone was big enough to house a small village. But I hadn’t realized exactly how large it was. The flames put its size in perspective.

  The fire leapt toward the sky, obliterating the view of the rolling hills behind it. Black smoke wafted upward, where it swirled and colored the sky, tingeing the brilliant colors of sunset with a gray as dark as Maurisse.

  The castle was now one ginormous fireball, and that was at a distance. We hadn’t ridden far before Simon did his “thing,” but we’d ridden far enough. Up close, the heat must be enough to singe your nose.

  How had one boy done all this?

  I craned my neck to check if Nando had made progress with his horse. Of course I wanted him to be safe, but since I knew he’d survive the horse’s thrashing, I wanted his horse to be settled so he could use his super eyesight to take in the castle—and find Simon, his family, and the others. I had to know that it wasn’t just the two ghosts who’d survived his manifestation of a power I hadn’t yet managed to wrap my mind around.

  Nando grimaced and struggled with his horse, so I shifted my attention back to the burning castle. The fire was mesmerizing even as it raged and destroyed.

  Elwin touched down at my side. Even though he and I were connected in a way not even my brother and I were, he didn’t spare me more than a quick glance before his focus alighted on the fire. His red eyes settled as he stared at the flames, becoming wistful. For the first time, I wondered what it would be like to be so connected to one of the elements. Firedrakes, like dragons, could breathe fire, so it had to be a constant somewhere inside them. What would that be like?

  Perhaps it was much like how humans breathed in air, and it continually circulated within us. But from the adoring expression on Elwin’s long face, I suspected that the fire was something much more significant to them. It appeared as if it called to him, and he longed to join it.

  I took a chance. Go to the fire, if you want to.

  Without tearing his gaze from the flames, he said, My place is with you. I owe you my life

  Again with the life debt. I realized it was incredibly generous on his part to wish to commit so much of his attention to my well-being, but I didn’t entirely like it. It felt wrong to have another under my command. Once I got past how frightening firedrakes looked, I re
cognized them for the magnificent creatures they were.

  Elwin, if the fire calls to you, please go.

  His eyes grew wistful, but he didn’t leave my side. The fire burns within was all he said, whatever that meant in relation to my prompting.

  I gave up and took in the fire’s glory until Nando drew his horse next to mine. Alarmed at first by his sudden appearance, I quickly settled once more after remembering that Nando would never bring an agitated animal near me.

  His horse was as calm as Trixie, which was to say not entirely relaxed, but tranquil enough that we could remain on their backs while we took in the place. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Nando said, his voice breathy with awe.

  “Neither have we.”

  I swiveled jerkily to seek out Marcelo, and was surprised to discover him, along with all the others, right behind us. I hadn’t noticed their progress over the crackling rumble of the fire.

  Gertrude led her horse by the reins, and Brave walked alongside her with his in hand, out of companionship, I suspected. Gertrude was the only to be casting resentful looks at her horse.

  “I had no idea the boy wielded so much power,” Count Vabu said. “Perhaps he’ll come in handy on the hunt.”

  Apparently not even the largest, angriest fire in recent history was enough to wipe the memory of what Maurisse’s actions had caused, nor did it wipe the anger and the need to avenge a little sister.

  Setting the wicked sorcerer’s castle aflame wasn’t punishment enough. And it’d do little to protect the integrity of the magical world.

  Our job was far from done.

  Chapter 6

  “The others are all right, aren’t they?” I asked Nando the question that weighed on me.

  “Yes, I can see them all, even Albacus.”

  He wouldn’t be able to see Malachai, but if Albacus was there, then surely so was the other ghost, who couldn’t die a second time anyway.

  “You can see all the way down to the castle?” Marcelo asked. “Well enough to make out our friends?”

  Nando nodded.

  “Hmph. We’ll definitely have to explore that more.”

  “I can’t wait.” Nando’s voice contained hope and excitement, enough to make me wonder whether it’d been difficult for him that, although the runes had chosen him first, I’d been the one who’d exhibited unexpected powers.

  “Simon managed all this,” Gertrude said, “from a spell? Or is he like Clara?”

  “And like Isa,” Clara added, making me uncomfortable at the implications of what powers I might truly possess.

  “It must be a spell,” Marcelo said. “His parents didn’t mention that he was unique in any way beyond the strength of his power.”

  A power that was on display. Although the explosions and sudden flare-ups were over, the fire continued to rage as if it would never stop. With the amount of kindling the castle amounted to, it might burn for weeks.

  “So, what?” Gertrude prodded. “He has a particular affinity for the fire element?”

  “That would seem to be the case, though I’ve never heard of someone able to blast an entire castle wide open with a single spell.”

  “It might have been several spells,” Brave said.

  “True, even so, it was impressive.”

  “The boy is the most powerful fire wizard I’ve ever encountered,” Count Vabu said.

  Sheeuw. Marcelo whistled. “And you’ve lived longer than most, short of Mordecai and Albacus. Oh, and Sir Lancelot.”

  At the mention of his name, the owl stirred in my hands. “Is someone calling me?” he murmured sleepily. He must have been terribly injured to sleep through the explosion.

  Marcelo and Clara both nudged their horses forward to peek over my shoulder. Clara spoke first. “How are you, Sir Lancelot? Are you feeling better?”

  The owl propped his eyes open to half mast and smiled sleepily. “Somewhat. I think I could sleep the week away.”

  “Then maybe you should.” Clara smiled kindly while Marcelo appeared relieved to hear the owl speak. If Sir Lancelot could talk, surely he’d be all right.

  “Thank you, Lady Clara. I think I will.” And he’d remembered his flawless manners. The owl would survive to live a while longer still.

  His eyelids drooped shut once more and within seconds his small chest fluttered with the deep breaths of sleep. He hadn’t even noticed an event that he surely would have wanted to record in his perfect memory.

  Even the impatient vampire stared at the fire for a long while as we absorbed its impact. Now that it was finished shoving its power upon us, it was a beautiful sight to behold, especially if one took into account that a den of torment was what burned.

  The smoke filled the sky, blotting out the sunset. But from the direction we looked, the sky lit with oranges and reds and pinks, and made the shooting flames seem all that more alive.

  Finally, however, Count Vabu snapped back to his usual self. “Time to go. Just because we’re resting doesn’t mean Maurisse is. He could be halfway around the world by now, assuming the blasted man can portal.”

  “I’m pretty sure he can,” Marcelo said.

  “Of course he can,” Count Vabu muttered bitterly. “The fleabag is more powerful than most, and better trained than almost anyone. But will he use his power to further the well-being of magicians worldwide? No, of course not. Why would he?” Count Vabu’s sarcasm was meant for him alone, and the conversation he appeared to be having only with himself.

  When he pointed his horse’s bridle back toward the path that would eventually lead us to Acquaine, Marcelo and Clara, and Brave and Gertrude, shared a meaningful look.

  A fire as terrible as the one in front of us might rage inside the vampire, though his fury probably burned cold as his skin, the one that a beating heart no longer warmed.

  “Come on, Gertie,” Brave said. “Let me help you up.”

  Gertrude, who wasn’t the sort to let anyone help her with much of anything, surprised me by allowing Brave to wrap strong hands around her waist and boost her up into her saddle. Whether her meek demeanor was due to her fall, the eternal day we continued to endure, or her feelings for Brave, I didn’t know, nor did it matter.

  Suddenly nothing mattered much. I was tired, so very tired, not just of the day but of all that had happened to me since leaving Uncle’s house. Really since our parents and brothers left for the New World. I was tired both of the bad and the good, and that was as clear a sign as any that I needed a break from it all, including the magic.

  And it was a break there was no chance I was getting. I sighed and shared my own look with Nando as Gertrude nudged her horse to follow Count Vabu’s, and she and Brave set off behind the trail of dust that was becoming more difficult to see by the minute in the fading light.

  “Come on, you two,” Marcelo said.

  “We’ll be right behind you,” Nando said.

  “Fine. But don’t be long. It’s getting dark.” Then he and Clara turned their horses toward the retreating forms of the others and set off.

  I would have preferred to follow them. As mesmerizing as the fire was, weariness was setting in faster than the night. But Nando usually did what I wanted, and after what we’d been through, it was important to do what he wanted. The bandage that wrapped around his head was already brown from the dirt our horses had kicked up, a vivid reminder of how difficult the day had been.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” I said.

  He didn’t answer for a long while. When he did, it was after a long inhale. “It is. Beautiful things can rise from the ugliness. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.”

  “When did you get so wise?”

  He laughed, and I loved the sound of happier times, of normalcy, whatever that would look like for us now. “I’ve always been wise. Apparently it took a near-death experience to make you acknowledge it.”

  “Be real, Nan. Just in this one day we’ve survived several near-death experiences.”

  He went t
o laugh again, but the sound choked off early. “Today was frightening.”

  I never thought I’d hear my brother admit to fear, and that one confession stirred the emotions inside me more than almost anything we’d experienced that day. “It was.” The fire blazed. Occasional popping bursts reached all the way to where we were, as the fire crackled with vehemence. “I hope Walt will be fine.”

  Nando turned melancholy eyes on me. “I hope so too.”

  “You ready to go now?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  We turned our horses to follow. “How could we have lost sight of the others already?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. They couldn’t have gone that far. We’ll catch up.”

  I nodded despite the unease that overtook me, and clicked my tongue to signal Trixie onward. “Good girl,” I said to her, patting her neck.

  I smiled at the mare even though she wouldn’t see my expression. “She did a wonderful job handling a difficult situation.”

  “Well, you can probably spend all the time you want with her once we get back to Acquaine. With Miranda and Maurisse out of the picture, things will be calm at the academy.”

  I chuckled. “You actually believe things will be calm?” I didn’t even bother keeping the incredulity from my voice.

  “With Maurisse out of the way, and Miranda dead, the SMS is bound to fall apart, at least until they find someone else to lead them. If we’re lucky, they’ll disband entirely.”

  I arched my eyebrows at my brother, though I suspected the expression was probably lost on him. The hill our horses walked down blocked off the flames behind us, and as soon as we dipped, I realized night had truly begun to settle in while we admired the fire. We should have moved sooner. I bit my lip. Not even Elwin, who flew overhead, cast a shadow. “Let’s hurry. I want to catch up with the others before it becomes too dark to see anything.”

  Nando wordlessly urged his horse into a canter, which I matched. Sir Lancelot’s head lolled back and forth, as if it hung from a string.

  “Think about it, Isa. Miranda is dead. Maurisse is gone.”