Dragon Mage Academy Box Set

by Cordelia Castel

  It was dawn by the time Master Jesper had finished the alkahest, and I left for Fyrian’s stall. The moment I stepped onto her terrace, a breeze blew the putrid scent of homunculi across my face. I grimaced and continued walking across the grass. Thick mauve clouds hung overhead, seeming even closer than they had been before. If Master Jesper didn’t work out a cure for the witches soon, Mount Fornax would face some kind of weather disaster.

  As I approached Fyrian’s stall, my foot caught on something which made me stagger forward with my arms splayed out. I righted myself, and cold realization trickled through my skin.

  I’d activated the homunculi’s trip wire!

  A pair of hooded beings stepped out from Fyrian’s stall, each holding halberds with sharp points. I froze, mouth gaping open. What had they been doing to my dragon?

  A slash appeared on the homunculi’s mouths, accompanied by those terrible, yellow eyes. The one with the black tufts spoke first. “Is that you, Cadet Bluford?”

  My heart pulsed. How did they know my name?

  “Show yourself,” said the other, “or we’ll hurt your dragon!”

  My breaths quickened. I could have stood in the middle of the terrace, pretending that the wind had tripped the wire or the flying cat, but those things were standing too close to Fyrian. They’d already tried to drop explosives on us and were happy to kill the warriors in the mess hall just for groaning. Those homunculi would not hesitate to hurt Fyrian just to get at me.

  “What did you do to her?” I spat.

  “Nothing… yet,” it replied.

  “That all depends on whether you behave yourself,” added the other.

  “W-who are you?”

  The ginger-haired homunculus wagged its finger. “We’re the ones with the hostage, and we’re the ones who get to ask the questions. Where is Jesper?”

  “The troll got blown up.”

  “Indeed? How is it that we didn’t see any traces of troll carcass when we checked?”

  I clenched my teeth. “What do you want?”

  “Join us in our crusade, and we will let you live.”

  My throat dried. This was my opportunity to discover the location of the alchemists. If I agreed right away, they’d think I was playing along. But if I acted belligerent, they might hurt Fyrian.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “What are you fighting for?”

  “The glory of Savannah.”

  My neck muscles tensed, and heat flushed through my veins. Even though I’d suspected King Magnar all along, a tiny part of me had hoped he wasn’t the culprit. The story he had told me about making a deal with the spriggan to save his sisters had made him seem more relatable. But he and his agents had gone too far.

  “The empire is under the control of spriggans, you know.”

  The ginger homunculus stepped forward. “We wish to remove the usurper and remove the influence of dark fairies from the Kingdom.”

  “But why go to all this trouble and make everybody ill? I’m sure the dragons would have agreed to help if you’d asked.”

  The homunculus leaped through the air, arms outstretched, hands aiming for my neck. “Ha!”

  I side-stepped, grabbed my sword, and struck, slashing through its cloak and its thin, leathery membrane. The contents of the homunculus splattered over the front of my cloak, filling my nostrils with the eye-watering stench of horse urine, blood, and rotten meat.

  I gagged at the overwhelming stink, staggering back to catch my breath. My stomach lurched with such force, I doubled over and retched. Nothing came out—I hadn’t eaten or drank for hours. Whatever had splashed on me made my eyes burn, and tears clouded my vision.

  Another of the fiends grabbed me around the waist, raising me off the ground. I shrieked. It squeezed with inhuman strength, as though wanting to crush me in half. I jabbed it with the tip of my sword. The homunculus burst into a puddle of skin and putrid liquid, and I tumbled off the side of the terrace.

  The drop lasted seconds, and I landed on my hands and knees, the cushioning charm breaking my fall. Bile and saliva filled my mouth, and my stomach heaved, urging me to evacuate its contents. A quick glance at the flask told me the alkahest was still secure.

  Up ahead, someone stamped on a stair stone, and heavy feet squelched down toward me.

  Dread tumbled through my insides, worsening my nausea. In moments, another of those homunculi would explode at the tip of my sword, and if any more of that rancid fluid touched my skin, I would drown myself in the Great Lake.

  “Where did he go?” snarled one of the fiends.

  “I didn’t see.”

  I ran into the nearest stall, sending a silent apology to the unconscious, artichoke-colored dragon inside. Using the dragon’s body as cover, I headed to the back wall to its trough of water. Then I dipped my hands into the cool liquid and scrubbed the muck off my face.

  “I don’t see him,” said a voice from afar. “Do you?”

  “Check the next level down.”

  I crouched in the corner as quietly as I could. All that agitation had burned through the willow tincture and brought pain seeping into my bones. It was dull compared to the time I’d collapsed with Fyrian’s clearscale, but if I didn’t cure Fyrian soon, it would become intense enough to make me pass out.

  “Alba?” said a faint voice in the back of my mind.

  Warmth exploded across my chest. She was alive! “Fyri, how are you talking to me? Did they hurt you?”

  “That thing you killed splattered smelly liquid on the wall and washed away one of the runes. I missed you.”

  “Me too,” I replied.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Mount Fornax is under attack.” I peered out from the side of the dragon, cringing at the homunculus rushing past. “Some alchemists poisoned everyone with elixirs that mimicked clearscale.”

  “Why?”

  “To hide the effects of a loyalty elixir.”

  Fyrian gasped. “They probably wanted to use the elixir to turn us against Magnar!”

  I winced and leaned my head against the cool, stone trough. If Fyrian couldn’t question her newfound devotion to someone she disliked, then the loyalty elixir had already done its job. I stared down at the flask in my hand. If this alkahest didn’t work, we were all doomed.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  “King Magnar?” I frowned. How long would I be able to hold back my feelings toward the wretch who had brought so much misfortune to Mount Fornax? “He was locked up, but his friends helped him escape.”

  “Oh, good. We have to find him and take him to rescue his little sisters from the spriggans.”

  I clutched the stem of the flask. “Evolene made a cure. Will you try it?”

  “Of course.”

  I walked out of the dragon’s stall into the terrace. The clouds remained thick, but the sun had risen above the distant hills, filling the horizon with a stream of incandescent, white light that darkened to a hornet yellow where it met the clouds. I shook off the image and trudged to the nearest stair stone. It no longer mattered that the noise of the stairs would attract the homunculi. Saving Fyrian was worth any amount of risk.

  Half a dozen of homunculi stood in front of Fyrian’s cell, each brandishing weapons. I stalked toward them.

  One of them developed a face, complete with a bulbous nose that sagged past its mouth. “Do you surrender?”

  “I do.”

  “Throw down your weapons,” it spat.

  I continued walking. “Why?”

  The homunculus paused. “Because we will kill your dragon if you do not comply.”

  “How do I know you won’t kill her if I do what you say?” Quickening my pace, I closed the distance.

  “Do not test us, Cadet!”

  “All right!” I pulled out the Parched Sword. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Throw it over the terrace.”

  I continued advancing toward them until we were a mere yard apart. “But it belongs to Gene
ral Thornicroft. He’ll be angry if I break it!”

  The homunculus made a gurgling snarl. “Enough of your—”

  Pushing every ounce of power through the hilt of my sword, I threw out a jet of fire into the homunculus closest to the entrance. It popped, leaving behind the stench of burned flesh. The others stepped back, and I charged at them, slashing my stream of fire at their bellies. Their cloaks caught fire. One of them screamed and jumped off the edge of the terrace. The others disintegrated into puddles of filth.

  Pulling my shoulders back, I snarled. After destroying so many of the homunculi, I was still no closer to discovering the location of their master.

  A low, rumbling sigh echoed from the stall on my right. My breath caught. It was Fyrian. A tiny slit of crimson peeped between her eyelids, the only sign she could see me. She lay on her belly with her chin on the ground. Both forearms were folded at her sides with forelegs tucked underneath her body. Her tail twitched twice in greeting.

  Relief loosened my muscles, and I slumped forward.

  “Sorry you had to see that,” I said.

  Fyrian let out a curl of smoke. “I’m more upset that this elixir let me keep my sense of smell.”

  “Can you open your mouth for the cure?”

  She pulled back her lips, separating her teeth about two feet. I uncorked the stopper of the flask and poured the liquid onto Fyrian’s tongue. Her lips closed over her teeth, and her limbs relaxed.

  Her eyelids fluttered, and a long, smoky sigh escaped her nostrils. “This is good. The pain is disappearing already.”

  “Rest a bit.” I patted her on the snout. Color returned to her scales, making them opaque. “You have to build your strength.”

  “No!” She opened her huge, crimson eyes. “It’s time for you and me to save Magnar.”

  Chapter 18

  I reared back. Why in the Known World did Fyrian think King Magnar needed saving? Her arms shook as she tried to push herself up. I wanted to tell her to stay down and recover, but she probably wouldn’t listen. Her lower half rose off the ground, and she pushed herself up to standing.

  Determination blazed in her crimson eyes. “Climb on my back, and we’ll find him together.”

  Tilting my head up to glower, I said, “That’s the problem. We’re still trying to work out where he’s hiding!”

  “Magnar’s out there suffering!” A growl rumbled in Fyrian’s throat. “We have to do something, now!”

  I pursed my lips and folded my arms across my chest. If Fyrian knew how much I wanted to track down King Magnar, she’d probably hold me down with one of her mighty paws.

  Imagining dark clouds covering a block of round cheese, I said, “I want to find King Magnar as much as you. Evolene is going to give the cure to Niger and Stafford. Let me get a gang together, then we’ll set out and find him.”

  She gave me a slow, hesitant nod and a narrow-eyed gaze that told me she didn’t quite trust me but would give me the benefit of the doubt for the sake of her precious King Magnar.

  I stepped to one side. “Can you still breathe fire?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you helpless if the alchemists send homunculi.”

  She turned her head and blew out a long stream of flames. They billowed against the wall, warming her stall.

  I exhaled. “Good. I’ll let you know when it’s time to go.”

  When Fyrian nodded, I backed out of her stall and bolted across the terrace, up the stairs, and through the trees toward the Healer’s Academy. A breeze blew across the Great Lake, but it did nothing to cool the anger flaring from my chest. The alkahest hadn’t worked. Fyrian was just as loyal to King Magnar as ever.

  By the time I opened the laboratory door, my blood had reached boiling point, and I was ready to breathe fire.

  Master Jesper stood in front of a diagram chalked on the wall, murmuring some kind of alchemical theory to a fascinated Evolene. I closed the door, taking as much care as I could not to alert any lurking homunculi. The pair of them turned around, giving me expectant looks.

  “It didn’t work.” I peeled off the filthy invisibility cloak.

  Master Jesper scratched its head. “I was sure the Golden Callisti was the key. Ah, well. We’ll just have to search the fallen witches and warriors for gold jewelry.”

  “Didn’t Fyrian get better?” asked Evolene, her brow crinkled. “The elixir worked on Stafford and Niger.”

  I folded my arms, glaring at the troll. “Her symptoms have gone, if that’s what you mean.”

  Her face brightened, and she moved to the table and picked up a pestle and mortar. “But you said it didn’t—”

  “But all she wants to talk about is saving King Magnar!” I snarled.

  “Fascinating…” Master Jesper tapped its lip. “The loyalty elixir seems to be fading at a slower rate.”

  “Why didn’t your alkahest reverse it as fast as it cured the aches and the clearscale?”

  “Loyalty cannot be reversed in an instant.”

  I glanced away. It seemed ungrateful to complain when Master Jesper had achieved something that even Dr. Duclair had overlooked, but the thought of everyone in Mount Fornax becoming the eager vassals of King Magnar made my stomach churn. He could now get anyone to risk their lives for his benefit, even if they wanted to throttle him mere days before.

  “You managed to abandon the Snow Queen for Queen Cendrilla without the help of a loyalty potion,” I muttered. “Can’t you make something to dilute their devotion to King Magnar?”

  The troll raised a finger. “But what I failed to tell you was that the Snow Queen had turned quite mad. She killed her creations for the most minor of infractions and veered off her goal of world domination in pursuit of worthless projects. By the time Queen Cendrilla had found me, I would have sided with anyone willing to oppose the Snow Queen.”

  My shoulders drooped. “What will we do about the dragons, then?”

  “The alkahest will have stopped the progression of the loyalty elixir.” Master Jesper pointed at a series of alchemical symbols on the board as if they reinforced his point. “If King Magnar is kind enough not to take advantage of their forced devotion, its effects will fade away naturally.”

  “And if he dies?” I asked.

  The troll tapped its thick finger on a symbol that reminded me of the letter ‘h’ with a crossbar over its stem. “Then the loyalty dies with him.”

  Evolene’s pestle clanked against the mortar. “Y-you’re not planning on killing King Magnar, a-are you?”

  Rolling up the sleeves of my invisibility cloak, I muttered, “I’d have to find him first.”

  A side-door opened. Stafford stepped into the room and gave me a sleepy smile. Niger followed him and clapped his hand over his nose. “What is that stench?”

  Warm heat rose to my cheeks. I dipped my head and coughed. “I got ambushed by homunculi. Let’s just say they explode when struck.”

  Evolene set down the pestle and mortar, then glanced in the direction of her staff, which she’d left resting against the wall. “I can help you with that.”

  “Allow me.” Master Jesper pointed its staff and covered me in pink magic. It made my skin tingle with the sensation of a million sparkles, each picking off a piece of filth and sending it off into the ether.

  When the tingling stopped, and my nostrils no longer felt like they’d been desensitized by homunculus fluid, I exhaled. “That’s much better. Thank you.” Turning to my newly awakened friends, I asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Still a bit rough,” replied Stafford, “But Master Jesper gave us something for the pain.”

  Niger’s nostrils flared, then he flinched. The movement happened so quickly, I thought I’d imagined it. Then his brows drew together. “You fought the alchemists who caused the plague?”

  “Only their homunculi,” I replied.

  “Those faceless things that passed in the hallway?”

  I nodded. “Don’t burst them. Your nose wil
l regret it.”

  “Where can we find these alchemists?”

  “We could look them up in Madam Maritumus’ room,” said Evolene.

  “Tracking magic can’t tell the difference between a human and their homunculus,” replied Master Jesper. “And I need a hundred bushels of Golden Callisti apples to produce enough alkahest for everyone.”

  I punched my fist into my palm and snarled, “The homunculi burned the trees on the surface. I heard them talking about burning the orchard near the waterfall next.”

  “There’s an orchard at the north side of the territory,” replied Stafford. “I’ll fetch as many as I can carry.”

  I nodded and turned to Master Jesper. “We should find the alchemist’s lair. They’ll have needed somewhere to produce so many homunculi.”

  “Yes…” The troll turned to a blank patch of wall and scribbled some symbols in a circular pattern. “If memory serves, a homunculus requires the urine of a mare, blood of the master, pigs’ bladders, a touch of magic, and a copious supply of water.”

  “There are horses at the base terrace,” said Niger. “And the spring. We might find something there.”

  “Excellent, Cadet Griffon!” cried Master Jesper. “Cadet Perrault, will you accompany them and ride to the north orchard on horseback?”

  Stafford paled and took a step back. “Uh… No. Horses and I don’t agree.”

  I would have asked what he meant, but we had no time to waste. Every passing hour meant that the residents of Mount Fornax would deepen their loyalty to King Magnar and end up risking their lives for him without their consent. I clapped my hands together. “Right. Let’s go!”

  Master Jesper nodded. “Madam Evolene, go with Cadets Bluford and Griffon. They will need your magic to detect whichever traps the alchemists’ have set to protect their workroom.”

  She nodded and picked up her staff.

  After we donned our invisibility cloaks, and Stafford left on his quest to find more apples, Niger took my hand with a surprisingly soft grip.