“You are in contempt of court,” snapped Master Roopal.
The Magistratus stood. “Hold on. Let us hear what he has to offer.”
“Everything we did was for a sole reason,” said Mr. Bacon. “To defeat the biggest threat to the Known World.”
“Which is?” asked the Magistratus.
“The Forgotten King and his spriggans!” shouted Mr. Bacon.
A hush spread across the arena. Everyone knew about the Forgotten King. Many of the dragons had experienced him or his minions first-hand.
“I heard you fought a spriggan,” murmured Niger.
“It captured us,” I said. “There was very little Evolene and I could do to free Fyrian and Master Fosco.”
“What was it like?”
I shuddered. “Disgusting. Not just its aged baby face, but it seemed really vicious and knew Master Fosco.”
Niger grimaced. “Really?”
“It called him by an impersonal name that meant something like purple dragon number one.”
Niger winced and shook his head. As he was a few years above us, he must have learned in History of Dragons everything about their time in the realm of the fairies. I wondered if he had been on a dragon quest like the one General Thornicroft had taken me on. There, I had learned that all dragons, even those who had never met spriggans, held a fear of them in their collective consciousness.
“Elaborate on your theory about the Forgotten King and his spriggans,” said the Magistratus.
“It’s the boy-King,” the Librarian exclaimed. “He negotiated with them to usurp King Calder and helped them get closer to unearthing the banishment-place of the Forgotten King. The spriggans wish to resurrect him.”
The dragon masters all hissed, as did many of the dragons sitting in the audience. I glanced down at where King Magnar stood between the alchemists. He didn’t raise his head to defend himself.
“We know how to hurt them!” cried Mr. Bacon.
Master Roopal shook his head. “Preposterous.”
Master Jesper stepped forward. “If it pleases the court, a couple of the Cadets assisting me on the elixir already found some notes my colleague made on the destruction of spriggans. With the help of Madam Evolene, I can produce alchemical weapons to fight your potential enemy.”
“How do you know they will work on spriggans?” asked Master Roopal.
“W-we experimented on fairy hybrids,” replied Mr. Bacon.
“Imps?”
“Yes, and an ogre-fairy—”
“What?” Father roared. “You are the alchemists who abducted my daughter in the United Kingdom of Seven.”
The librarian flapped his hands from within the pillory. “N-not me! I was working here at the time.”
“Then it was you.” Father pointed at Mr. Bacon.
“I-I didn’t know she was your daughter!” cried the alchemist.
Turning away from the scene, I shook my head. They had gone to such pains to abduct me and knew I hadn’t yet manifested my magic. How could they not know my identity? The man was lying, just like he lied to Master Jesper about not shooting at him in the reception area.
“Princess.” Niger placed an arm around my waist. In the softest of voices, he asked. “What happened?”
“They took me from a friend’s house when I was seven, but Mother and the other bluebirds rescued me. They pecked Mr. Bacon’s eyes out.”
“He should have died for touching you,” he growled.
“We thought they’d all been killed.” I raised my shoulders into a shrug. “But you know Mr. Bacon. He has a knack for escaping death.”
Niger snarled at the alchemists. “I should have kept my mouth shut when Master Jesper wanted to bury him.”
I placed my hand on his bicep. “Let’s not talk about them. I finally got my chance to fight him and won. Even if he did take an elixir to make himself stronger.”
Niger turned to me, black eyes shining with admiration. Words weren’t necessary. He’d already complimented me so many times on my power, I could tell what he was thinking. His fingers threaded through my short blond locks, making my heart thrum.
“Evolene did something with my glamor,” I murmured.
“What?”
I clicked my fingers. “Thunderbird.”
Platinum hair tumbled down to my shoulders, and I smoothed it behind my ears.
Niger’s eyes gleamed. “A wonderful development. She even restored your scent.”
A flock of dragon moths took flight in my stomach. Would he kiss me? I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable press of his lips on mine.
Someone knocked on the door, and we jumped apart.
“Thunderbird.” I clicked my fingers.
The door swung open, and Roseate stepped into the room. She folded her arms across her chest. “I thought you were trying to save Evolene, not stealing the free drinks!”
“What’s it to you?” I spat.
“She’s my friend. I want to make sure you’re doing your best for her.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “I’ve never seen you together.”
“That proves how little you know. Don’t let her reach the Magical Militia headquarters, or you’ll regret it.”
Niger stepped forward, but I placed my hand on his arm. This was my fight. “Instead of making threats, why don’t you approach the Witch General and try to persuade her yourself?”
Roseate curled her lip, spun on her heel, and slammed the door with an extra loud bang.
Dread stretched across my stomach. Attracting the attention of that vindictive witch was never a good idea.
Chapter 5
After that incident with Roseate, I didn’t try to remove my glamor again. Instead, Niger and I shared a bottle of aqua vitae and sat at the edge of the observation gallery, waiting for the recess.
The two alchemists begged for their lives and tried to blame everything on King Magnar, even though it was clear that he would have been a young child around the time the librarian joined Mount Fornax as a spy. Despite the alchemists’ outrageous lies, King Magnar didn’t say a single word in his defense.
“Do you think he’s been enchanted to stay silent?” I asked Fyrian.
“They’re probably saving the worst until last,” she replied.
“What do you mean?”
“A while back, a black dragon tried to burrow underneath Mount Fornax’s wards to create a secret passage. When she got caught, she said a wild silver persuaded her that Mount Fornax was a prison and we needed a way out in case anything happened.”
“So, the wild dragon was behind the plot?” I asked.
“Worse than that,” replied Fyrian. “And it all came out at the end of the trial.”
“What do you mean?”
“It turned out that he had approached lots of other female blacks, offering them a nice life on the other side of the world. Since he was the ringleader, he got trialed last.”
I was about to ask what happened to the wild dragon when the door opened. The Witch General strode inside, flanked by the two lieutenants who had goaded her into arresting Evolene. I bolted out of my seat and rushed toward her. One of the lieutenants, whom I recognized from the time I burned King Magnar’s dark artifact with Fyrian’s dragon fire, pointed her staff at me.
I ignored her. “General Shipton, where’s Evolene?”
The Witch General folded her arms across her chest. “In the royal box, under guard, encased in a penitentiary bubble.”
“Evolene didn’t consort with Master Jesper,” I said. “At the time, we were the only people who hadn’t fallen to the plague or the attacking homunculi. She was consorting with me.”
“Indeed? The troll said she assisted him in creating the antidotes.”
Frustration welled up behind my throat and reverberated in a low growl. What did they expect Evolene to do? Walk away and doom us all on the grounds that Master Jesper had a bad reputation? Niger gave me a gentle pat on the back, a sign that I needed to calm
down before I ruined my chance with the Witch General.
I inhaled a long, calming breath and said, “Those were extenuating circumstances. Everyone in Mount Fornax had become incapacitated by the alchemists. We were looking for General Thornicroft, and someone shot him through the chest.”
One of the lieutenants at her side, a tall witch with cropped silver hair, opened her mouth to object, but the Witch General raised a quelling hand. “I’m listening.”
My heart sped up. If I didn’t get this story right, she would lose interest and allow herself to be swayed by the pair of vindictive witches eager to have Evolene punished for violating her probation. “Master Jesper was tied up at the time being tortured. After the General fell, the marksmen kept shooting, and that’s when Master Jesper convinced me to release it.”
The silver-haired lieutenant’s lip curled. “You allowed a troll to convince you?”
“Yes,” I said through clenched teeth. “I did. And Evolene was at the back of the room. She didn’t even exchange two words with it.”
“Shush, Lieutenant Argentina,” snapped the Witch General. “I want to hear the rest of the account before the end of the recess.”
Argentina’s face dropped. She turned around and stalked to the refreshment table and grabbed a bottle of mead. Her companion, a lieutenant whose long, indigo braids were arranged around her head in a series of hangman’s nooses, scowled.
Excitement bubbled up in the pit of my belly, and my tongue darted out to lick my lips. If the other lieutenant would join her friend, perhaps I would get a chance to persuade the Witch General to release Evolene.
The Witch General’s gaze darted to the refreshment table. Panic exploded across my chest. I was losing her attention already.
“May I fetch you a drink, General Shipton?” asked Niger.
“Please,” she replied.
Lieutenant Argentina rushed forward with a glass and a bottle of mead. “Allow me.”
“Keep talking!” hissed Fyrian. “I don’t know what those two are doing, but they don’t want you to finish your story.”
“W-we escaped.” The words spilled from my lips. “B-but the attackers sent homunculi after us with explosives. The only way we survived was Master Jesper’s magic. It protected us, and…”
The Witch General shook her head at the proffered mead and crossed the room to the table at the floor-to-ceiling opening. She picked up a bottle and poured herself a generous serving of aqua vitae. I gaped. How could she walk away mid-conversation? Had she even been listening to my account of Evolene’s innocence?
Niger prodded me in the back.
I followed after her. “So, we eventually reached the Healer’s Academy, where we found all the witches incapacitated. There was nobody else in Mount Fornax conscious but me, Evolene, and Master Jesper. It was my decision to work with the troll to produce an antidote to the plague.”
“I see.” She took a long drag of her drink.
The lieutenant with the braids raised an eyebrow. “Did it occur to you to ask for outside help?”
“We did.” I turned to the Witch General. “Master Jesper helped me call the palace. You, the Prince Regent, and the Magistratus were at the Ogre Senate, dealing with the vote of no confidence duels. A major who had heard about the plague from Dr. Duclair placed Mount Fornax under quarantine, so the plague wouldn’t spread to the rest of Steppe.”
The Witch General turned to Niger. “Can you corroborate this story, young warrior?”
Niger shrugged. “I was in the Healer’s Academy, also under the influence of the plague. They woke me early and I know Evolene spent most of her time with Perrault and Bluford, not the troll.
“But she helped to create the antidote?”
I pressed my lips together and exhaled a lungful of ire. What did they want from poor Evolene? If I said she worked with Master Jesper to create the antidote, she’d be in violation of her probation. If I said she didn’t help with the antidote, then she would have been consorting with Master Jesper for no good reason. “She did, but that was because she was the only one with the magic to prepare the ingredients.”
“Hmmm….” The Witch General surveyed the dishes on the table. “Hold on while I get a snack.”
I folded my arms and huffed. Didn’t she realize Evolene was probably frightened out of her wits in that horrible bubble? I glowered at the table of dishes. Whoever had created this fare had considered both the tastes of witches and ogres. A pair of giant salamanders swam in a shallow platter of bubbling bouillon. Next to that sat a bowl of umbrella octopuses stuffed with fluorescent, dragon reaper peppers. I wrinkled my nose. Father would probably love those.
The Witch General selected a platter of fist-sized, crimson berries I had never seen before. She walked to the chair and sat.
Niger gave me another gentle prod.
“So, you see,” I raised my voice, “Evolene didn’t choose to work with Master Jesper. I did, and she stayed with me to watch my back. Her ingredient preparation was essential to making the antidotes. It’s all a big misunderstanding.”
She nodded and took a huge bite of her berry, and I held my breath. Any reasonable person would realize that under such circumstances, Evolene had no choice but to work with Master Jesper. It was that or leave Mount Fornax to a grisly fate and possibly get killed by the homunculi in the process.
After what felt like an eternity, the Witch General finished her berry and licked her fingertips clean. “Very well. I will—”
The door slammed open, and a voice cried, “General Shipton! There has been an incident at the royal box.”
I whirled around, bumping into Niger. A green-haired apprentice witch stood at the door, wringing her hands. The quartet of white-clad, ceremonial witches brushed her aside so the Magistratus could enter.
“What now?” The Witch General set her plate to one side and stood.
A security witch levitated a shame-faced Stafford into the room. His body was frozen as though he had been stunned mid-climb. “We caught this one scaling the outside of the royal box, trying to reach Evolene.”
I gaped. “Maybe he just needed to check on her.”
The witch rolled her eyes. “He was holding a lump of gravestone large enough to pull her out of the penitentiary bubble.”
I stifled a groan and glanced at Niger, who grimaced. After the effort I’d made to protest Evolene’s innocence, it now looked like she had friends ready to flout Magical Militia authority to free her. Lieutenant Argentina snorted, and her companion smirked. I ground my teeth and clenched my fists. Witches could be so nasty.
The Witch General’s nostrils flared, and her skin turned the same shade of red as her hair. “I see,” she said through clenched teeth. “Was this the plan? Keep me talking here while your comrade sneaks into the royal box?”
I raised my hands. “N-no, it wasn’t like that at all.”
“Stafford acted on his own initiative,” added Niger.
“But he is your friend… And Evolene’s.”
Remaining silent for fear of incriminating Evolene further, I bowed my head. A denial would get me caught in a transparent lie, and those catty lieutenants might twist my words if I told them that Stafford knew I would be speaking to the Witch General during the recess.
General Shipton shook her head. “Xeraphine, Yvelt, escort these cadets back to the mountain.”
I gasped. “What about Evol—”
“The matter is closed,” she snapped. “Stun them if they offer any resistance!”
“We can take them,” said Lieutenant Argentina.
“No.” The Witch General sat on the plush seats and picked up her plate of berries. “I need you and Raven to watch over Evolene. Your break is over.”
Lieutenants Argentina and Raven scowled and stalked out of the room. My heart spasmed. Why did Stafford have to act on his own? I thought Rufus was taking care of him. My feet shuffled back on their own accord. “I can’t leave without speaking to the Prince Regent. Where is h
e?”
The Magistratus, who had been watching from the side of the room, flicked his hand in a dismissive wave. “You know how popular Orson is with male ogre-hybrids. They crowded him as soon as recess was announced.”
I clenched my teeth. After all the trouble we took to get through the guards, they allowed Father to be mobbed. My face twisted into a grimace. The guards probably mobbed him, too.
The Magistratus placed a massive hand on my shoulder. “Do not worry. The Prince Regent will seek you out before he leaves.”
“But I need to see him, now.”
“Xeraphine,” snapped the Witch General. “Bind these cadets and remove them from my sight.”
Before I could protest, the green-haired apprentice flicked her little staff, and tight bands of magic wrapped around my wrists and bound them together. I glanced down at Niger’s arms to find that she had done the same to him.
“Right then,” the other witch levitated Stafford out of the observation gallery. “Back to the mountain.”
Xeraphine marched us out of the room behind our friend. We walked down the curved hallway, our footsteps drowned out by loud chatter further on. With a sigh, I presumed that was the crowd of warriors greeting Father. So much for having a conversation with the Witch General.
As we descended the stairs, I glared at Stafford’s back. “Why didn’t you leave things to me? I was making progress.”
He turned his head to the side. “She was all alone in the royal box. I couldn’t miss out on my chance to rescue her!”
My heart sank. Did he even think of her feelings? It was bad enough to be held against her will, but seeing Stafford get arrested and not be able to do anything about it could only add to her worries.
“Do you want me to come to the rescue?” asked Fyrian. “I can grab you when they get you outside.”
“No, thanks. I need you at the trial to keep an eye on things. Is that all right?”
“No problem.”
We stepped outside into the sunny morning, and I squinted against the glare. The witches levitated Stafford into an armored Magical Militia carriage and then bundled us into the back. Niger and I glared at Stafford, who the witches had lain on the seat opposite. He had ruined everything with his rash actions.
Dragon Mage Academy Box Set Page 89
