Dragon Mage Academy Box Set

by Cordelia Castel

  “I will lead you,” he murmured. “Get Evolene’s hand.”

  I reached out and grabbed Evolene.

  “Good luck,” whispered Master Jesper. “Try to return at least one of the culprits alive for questioning.”

  We stepped into the hallway and walked toward the double doors. A quartet of homunculi stood in between us and the exit. A pair of them held witch’s staffs, and the other two held round bottom flasks which I presumed contained a poison or explosive. Niger stopped walking and squeezed my hand. I pulled Evolene close and whispered, “Can you cause a diversion?”

  “There’s a rubbish chute,” she whispered. “We can use that.”

  A moment later, one of the broom closets at the other end of the hallway yawned open, and a bucket and mops tumbled out. The pair holding explosives rushed toward the source of the noise. Beside me, Niger stiffened. With his sensitive ogre nose, he could probably smell what sloshed beneath their thin membranes.

  “Come back!” One of the other homunculi hissed. “What if it’s a trick?”

  The pair headed for the broom closet paused, and my stomach dropped. One of them turned around, displaying eyes that reminded me of the sun glinting off a Golden Callisti apple. A slit formed in its mouth. “And what if it’s Jesper’s escape route?”

  The pair standing in our way spread out, giving us no room to edge past. “Well, I’m staying here,” said one of them. “In case that troll is planning on sneaking past.”

  Something from deep within the broom cupboard thudded, and the homunculus walking toward the cupboard picked up its pace. It stepped through the door and said, “It looks like a tunnel!”

  Hope surged in my chest, and I pressed my lips together. With luck, the chute would empty into a furnace.

  “Where?” The homunculus at the door rushed past, emanating a sour, stomach-churning stench.

  One by one, the homunculi crowded the cupboard, leaving us free to travel the hallway without detection. I tugged on Niger and Evolene’s hands, striding toward the front door, where only one homunculus remained.

  Something terrible must have happened to the homunculi in the chute because it lifted its staff off the floor. Copper wire encased the crystal at the end, which glowed with menace. “Who goes there?”

  A coin rolled down the hallway and around the corner.

  The homunculus folded its arms. “You’re expecting me to rush out and investigate that noise, but I won’t let you sneak past.”

  Niger let go of my hand and moved forward. I snatched at the air and caught his bicep. “It might be bluffing,” I whispered. “If you attack it, the master will know we’re actually here, and more of those things will arrive and threaten to kill people.”

  The cat flew out from around the corner, and the homunculus grunted with frustration. It flung the door open. “Get out, you stupid feline.”

  The cat landed on the ground and tilted its head. “Meow?”

  We all rushed to the door. As soon as we left the building, the cat bolted past.

  “Good riddance!” shouted the homunculus.

  We walked through the gardens and passed the gates in silence. Overhead, the clouds thickened into a peculiar blanket of closely packed, steel grey pouches that let in glimpses of purplish light. I sent out a silent plea to Stafford to return safely with the apples, and to Master Jesper to work out how to cure the witches.

  “How does that filthy thing work?” snarled Niger.

  “Master Jesper explained that they’re made out of the body parts and fluids of an alchemist,” said Evolene. “The alchemist is using an enchantment to transfer his consciousness into any of his homunculi.”

  “How do we kill them?” he asked.

  I wrinkled my nose. “They’re just walking, talking bladders. Fire or a blade will make them burst, but I don’t recommend doing it in close quarters.”

  We continued north along the academy wall to what looked like an open shelter made of sandstone. Dozens of dragons slept within its depths. I supposed this was where they’d originally kept sick dragons who didn’t have the plague.

  “Could Master Jesper operate the homunculi?” asked Niger.

  “No,” said Evolene. “Trolls were never born, so they don’t hold any power of reproduction.”

  We reached some stairs that led us to a terrace covered in bare sandstone, reminding me of where Captain Caiman held flying classes. Niger pushed open a door. “There is a chute that leads straight to the surface.”

  I stepped into the darkened hallway, furrowing my brow. “Is it one of those dragonet tunnels?” When he grunted in affirmation, I added, “Won’t it be too small for you?”

  “We used it all the time in our first year.” He gave my hand a gentle tug. “Come on.”

  As we walked, I stared down at the space where our hands met. Why was he treating me like I was suddenly fragile? Perhaps it was because he’d seen me with clearscale and distressed after Master Jesper’s invasion of my hospital room. I chewed the inside of my cheek. He probably now saw me as a delicate little Prince who needed coddling. At some point, I’d have to do something tough to regain his respect.

  We stopped at a hole in the wall five feet in diameter. “I will go first, then Bluford, then Evolene. All right?”

  Before we could respond, he let go of my hand and a swoosh of air brushed hair off my face. Niger must have gone down the chute. I squeezed Evolene’s hand. “I’m going next.”

  “A-all right.”

  The chute’s interior was as smooth as freshly polished marble. Someone had probably convinced a witch to enchant it as slippery as possible. I swung my legs into the opening and pushed forward, letting the magic of the chute propel me down.

  The speed of my descent made my heart pound and brought wind rushing past my ears. I clenched my teeth to hold back a squeal and tucked my elbows into my sides. Butterflies pummeled the walls of my stomach, urging me to stop disturbing their sleep. Sliding down the chute was like an endless drop through the air, except for the sandstone at my back. Eventually, dim light shone several feet beneath me, and I steeled myself to hit the ground.

  When I shot out of the chute, strong arms grabbed be around the middle. I gasped. “How did you know when I’d come out?”

  “Your scent.” He set me back onto my feet.

  I cringed. Hadn’t Master Jesper removed all the homunculus stink?

  The warmth of his body left me, and then a few seconds later, Evolene squeaked. He had probably caught her, too. I glanced around, checking for homunculi. Pastureland stretched out for a few acres, and beyond that lay meadows, and then a wheat field.

  Niger took my hand, and Evolene fumbled around at my arm until I grabbed her wrist.

  “Are we going to the stables?” I whispered.

  “I smell homunculi.” He tugged at my hand, and we followed after him. “Their scent trail leads this way.”

  “And hopefully to their lair,” I said.

  “I’d better start checking for traps,” said Evolene. The grass ahead of us glowed with the shapes of puddles.

  “Those look like what we found in Mr. Jankin’s room,” I said. “If a homunculus drops a flask on that liquid, it will explode.”

  We avoided the discolored patches in the grass. I guessed that the alchemists hadn’t counted on a single witch surviving their elixirs, and they’d planned to murder Master Jesper to stop him from curing the plague or finding their lair.

  Niger muttered something about the clouds, and I glanced up. They now hung so low, they grazed the mountain’s plateau. My posture sagged. The sky could have been one of Master Klauw’s natural disaster pictures.

  After several minutes of walking through the pastureland around the foot of the mountain, a fresh scent carried in the wind. It mingled with the smell of damp earth, grass, and something else I didn’t recognize. A few feet away, a bale of hay twice my height stood against the mountainside.

  “The trail ends here.” Niger stopped walking. “That me
ans the entrance is close.”

  “Those bales over there are covered in liquid,” said Evolene. “What if it’s to stop anyone from entering a secret tunnel?”

  “That’s the kind of thing the alchemists would do,” I muttered.

  “I could move it,” said Evolene.

  “Good idea,” replied Niger.

  “Can you test your magic on some of the loose bits of hay first?” I scratched my head. “Just in case?”

  “All right.” Evolene directed a small stream of pale magic onto a clump of hay lying in the grass a yard away from the stack. With a flash, the hay caught fire.

  I yelped. “Put it out!”

  A blink of an eye later, orange flames engulfed the entire bale.

  Niger pulled us back from the mass of burning hay. “What do you think? A decoy?”

  I tilted my head up. Black smoke billowed several feet high. “What if it’s—”

  BOOM!

  The force of the explosion pushed us back. Stones, clods of earth, and chunks of rotten meat flew out from the burning haystack… and hit some sort of barrier.

  Beside me, Evolene squealed. “Just in time!”

  I bent over double, resting my hands on my knees. “Thank you!”

  Niger grunted. “That was quick thinking. Thanks, Evolene.”

  The haystack disintegrated into foot-high piles of smoking char, revealing a blackened vestibule.

  I blew out a long, relieved breath. “We’d better go inside and see if there are any clues left.”

  The vestibule opened up into the alchemists’ lair. Black soot splattered the sandstone walls of what I could only describe as a cave half the size of the mess hall. Large platforms stood every few feet, where I imagined the alchemists created their homunculi. I lost count after four dozen. A shudder ran down my back. Whoever had created these must have been working on them for years.

  “I’ve found something,” said Evolene.

  “What is it?” I glanced around.

  She pulled down the hood of her invisibility cloak, holding a golden ring. “The signet looks like the Savannah Sun.”

  I closed the distance between us. “That’s the ring King Magnar tried to give—”

  “Give who?” asked Niger.

  My throat dried. If he hadn’t interrupted, I would have said King Magnar had tried to give it to me. How could I have been so careless? “Q-Queen Cendrilla.”

  “Her Majesty was not at the opening ceremony,” replied Niger. “Princess Alba attended in her stead.”

  “Right.” I turned to Evolene for help, but she was too busy chewing her bottom lip and pretending to stare at one of the blacked platforms to notice.

  Niger pulled off his hood and stepped closer, nostrils flared. “How would you know about King Magnar’s ring?”

  I gulped. If this conversation continued any further, one of us would blurt something incriminating. “Let’s talk about jewelry after we’ve caught the alchemists and the plague is over, all right?”

  “G-good idea!” Evolene rushed toward the corner of the chamber.

  I turned to follow, but Niger grabbed my arm. “When Master Jesper cleansed the homunculus odor, it removed the glamor masking your real scent.”

  My breath quickened, and I stared into eyes that burned like coals. He had probably worked out my true identity. When we had all flown to the palace, he’d seen Father welcome me with an arm around my shoulder. Someone with Father’s reputation would only show such affection to his own child. Niger had guessed I was Princess Alba.

  He grabbed my hand. “We should find King Magnar.”

  My heart sank. After we’d saved Mount Fornax, Niger wouldn’t want to associate with me again.

  Chapter 19

  We searched the alchemists’ lair for other clues, but they had either moved all the incriminating evidence to another hiding place, or the explosion had been set up to destroy everything of use. My feet dragged on the floor, along with my crashed spirits. We hadn’t discovered anything new except to confirm our theory that King Magnar was working with the alchemists.

  Evolene unrolled a large parchment over the blackened floor. It was a map of the entire territory, including the surrounding areas. She placed the ring on the far edge of the parchment and raised her staff.

  Tilting my head to the side, I asked, “What are you doing?”

  “I stole this from Madam Maritimus’ room,” she answered. “Now that we have something of King Magnar’s, we can use it to find where he’s hiding.”

  “Good.” I clenched my fists. “We can have him sent away before the dragons wake.”

  “For their protection?” asked Niger.

  I shrugged. “The longer everyone stays sick, the longer the loyalty elixir gets to work on their brains. You and Stafford were lucky enough not to turn into his minions like the dragons.”

  “What about his sisters?” Evolene bathed the parchment with blue light.

  The ring spun in a slow circle, and I swallowed hard. King Magnar had said that the deal he had made with the spriggan was for his sisters’ safety. They were probably still alive, but most wicked creatures knew how to twist bargains to their own ends.

  I met Evolene’s eyes and sighed. “I’ll tell Prince Vanus to pass on a message to the other high fairies. Whoever defeated the Forgotten King can deal with the spriggans.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Niger.

  Had the loyalty potion affected him more than I’d thought? I paused to study his expression. The intense stare had dimmed into a look of mild interest, and he didn’t seem angry or threatened at the thought of leaving the rescue of King Magnar’s sisters to the high fairies. I’d have to observe him a little more.

  After a deep breath, I said, “King Magnar might want the dragons to do the spriggan’s bidding in exchange for his sisters. The spriggan wants to free its master, and if the Forgotten King gets loose, he’ll enslave every single dragon in Mount Fornax, destroy the realm of the fairies, and murder Queen Cendrilla and her sons, too.”

  He grunted. “I have no doubt ogres, witches, and humans will also suffer.”

  “True.” Evolene bowed her head and continued the spell. “I don’t know why it’s taking so long. Maybe the ring doesn’t really belong to him.”

  “He said it was his mother’s…” I didn’t complete the sentence, it was one thing for Niger to suspect my true identity, but I would die of shame if he knew of King Magnar’s proposal of marriage.

  The ring wobbled across the parchment and stopped at the eastern wards of the territory.

  Evolene shuffled to the right side of the map and cocked her head. “That’s strange.”

  “This area is supposed to be deserted,” added Niger.

  “It isn’t,” I said. “Master Fosco sent me there when he expelled me for dueling King Magnar. I stayed in a little hut in the drylands, and Master Solum had me coating the area with dung.”

  Niger snorted. “He made you shovel sh—”

  “Shedloads of dragon dung. Master Fosco isn’t my biggest fan.” I squinted at the map. “Can you magnify it?”

  With a whispered incantation, the east side of the map expanded into a detailed plan of the drylands, including Viet the gong farmer’s hut.

  Niger whistled. “Impressive magic!”

  “Did Master Jesper teach you this enchantment?” I asked.

  A cherry-red flush formed on her cheeks. “It’s something I adapted for when Father and I did burglaries.”

  Niger choked and turned away, presumably trying to muffle a laugh.

  “It’s time to get Fyrian.” I shook my head. “Are you there?”

  “Sorry. I fell asleep again. Did you rescue Magnar without me?” the words sounded like a yawn.

  “We know his exact location,” I replied.

  “Where?” she shouted. “I’ll save him!”

  I winced. “We think he’s with the alchemists who made all the dragons sick.”

  She gasped. “He’s their prisone
r!”

  I pulled at the collar of my invisibility cloak and let out a huff of guilt. If I told her the whole truth, she’d rush off by herself and be manipulated into invading the Savannah Empire on her own.

  Sending a silent thanks to General Thornicroft for helping me fill some of the holes in my mind, I said, “We can’t be sure, but the alchemists are extremely dangerous. They set explosives around their lair and nearly killed us.”

  “They’ll kill Magnar if we don’t leave now!”

  I pursed my lips. The old Fyrian would have at least paused the conversation to ask if we’d gotten hurt.

  “Is she well enough to take us?” asked Niger.

  “I think so.”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “At the base of the mountain. Do you know the dragonet chute that leads all the way down?”

  “I’m flying there now.”

  Evolene rolled up the parchment and stuffed it inside her cloak. Then she stood and offered me King Magnar’s ring. I glanced at Niger, who stared at me with the same intense expression as before.

  My insides twisted, and I cleared my throat. How could I tell him that it wasn’t a betrothal ring? Dozens of excuses whirled around in my mind, each too pathetic to voice. What would I have said back around the time of the duel? Some kind of fighting talk, probably.

  I plucked the ring from Evolene’s fingers and slid it in the pocket of my breeches. “I’ll stuff it down his throat.”

  Niger snickered, and a knot of tension in my gut loosened.

  We all headed toward the vestibule where we’d entered the chamber. I raised my arm and pushed flames through my fists. “We’ll light the way. You can keep monitoring for dangerous magic and alchemicals.”

  Evolene nodded and stepped through the opening leading into the vestibule. A flash of magic told us there were no explosive puddles on the wall or floors. She hummed. “No new traps.”

  Niger and I entered after her, and he growled. “I smell homunculi.”

  “Fresh or old tracks?” I asked.

  “More pungent than before.”

  Maybe it was my imagination, but the vestibule seemed longer than when we entered the chamber. Evolene and Niger made comments to that effect, but we continued through the narrow, dark space, illuminating the way with our raised fists. The flames flickered against walls so smooth, they looked like they’d been melted and not carved by magic.