Dragon Mage Academy Box Set

by Cordelia Castel

  “Why couldn’t I keep my hair like normal?”

  “Because you’ll be performing a blessing, along with your mother and Her Majesty, your aunt,” replied the ogress. “All eyes will be on you.”

  I gulped. What would the ogres think of Father bringing his concubine and bastard daughter to the center of such an official, royal event?

  Chapter 4

  Later that evening, the entire family bundled into the royal carriage for the short trip across the capital to the Ogre Senate. Its magically expanded interior was a wash of mulberry carpets that stretched up to walls of lavender silk. Father cradled the gold and silver-haired babies on the mauve sofa on the far end. Next to him sat Aunt Cendrilla, who held the ones with the blue hair. Uncle Armin at Aunt Cendrilla’s other side, stroked Emmonsii’s powder-blue tufts.

  I lounged on a perpendicular, violet sofa next to Chrysus and the twins, and Mother sat opposite between Master Fosco and Prince Vanus. The three of them spoke in low tones, their faces grave.

  “I wonder if they’re talking about the Forgotten King,” said Fyrian.

  “Probably. Since leaving Mount Bluebeard, Mother’s been out in Savannah, investigating a magical disturbance. At least we know who was causing it.”

  “Why is she not out there catching spriggans?” snarled Gladius.

  “Because they’re too clever to let themselves be known,” I snapped. “Besides, she has dozens of fairies in her platoon, as well as normal bluebirds and other small birds to spy for her. And stop eavesdropping into our conversations!”

  “Stop speaking so loudly,” he said.

  “Ignore to him,” said Fyrian. “No other dragon can listen in on a bond without permission.”

  Chrysus flew across the carriage and bounced up and down on a glowering Master Fosco’s lap. That little fairy was determined to ride a dragon by all means.

  When the carriage stopped at the Senate, footmen opened the door and bowed. Father handed the babies he carried to Prince Vanus, and Aunt Cendrilla handed hers to Uncle Armin. Then he stood and led her out of the carriage with her two other husbands taking up the rear. The next to follow them out were the twins, followed by Chrysus, who decided to fly. Next, Mother held out her hand and led me down the steps with Master Fosco at our heels.

  By now, the sun had set, and the moon hung low in an indigo sky. Its silver light shone on the domes of the Ogre Senate building, making its white stone glow like starlight.

  “Why are we invited?” I whispered to her.

  “Despite everything, I’m still the Queen’s sister, and you’re her niece. We three ancestors of the Queen of the Fairies will bless the quadruplets.”

  Master Fosco grunted. “Behave yourself today, Cadet.”

  Mother glanced over her shoulder and flashed him a grin. “How could Alba possibly misbehave in a babies’ naming ceremony?”

  “You would be surprised,” he said with a growl.

  If my throat wasn’t parched with nervousness, and my heart didn’t pound hard against my ribcage, I might have rolled my eyes. Master Fosco seemed to think I was a one-woman force of chaos. Instead, I gulped and followed the procession of family. No matter what Mother said, I would keep an eye out for ogres who disproved of Father bringing his concubine and bastard daughter to an official royal function. Some of them might feel strongly enough to attack.

  “Ha!” said Fyrian. “Let them try.”

  A smile curved my lips. If anyone attacked, thinking I was a harmless seventeen-year-old who had spent her life hidden away in Mount Bluebeard, they would be shocked. With my flaming fists, parched sword, and honed fighting skills, I’d be well positioned to protect myself and Mother.

  Antler-headed guards swept into low bows at the triple-height ivory doors of the Senate building, making sure to straighten after Chrysus had passed. It was probably their petty way of disapproving of mine and Mother’s presence. Mother snorted. As a full fairy, a General of the Fairy Fighting Force, and the daughter of Prince Evander, she had no need for the approval of ogres. And judging by my lack of cringing, neither did I. Those guards looking down at us were small-minded fools who would never have stopped bowing if Father or Aunt Cendrilla had been watching.

  We walked through a wide, marble-covered hallway and through double doors that led to a vast room that reminded me of a large, stony version of the interior of the underwater ship. Beams arched down from the ceiling to a wooden base that seated over a hundred ogres. In the middle, the Magistratus sat on a silver throne wide enough to encompass the massive horns protruding from the sides of his head. A large, wooden table separated his seat from two golden thrones, which I assumed were for Father and Aunt Cendrilla.

  Seeing us at the door, everybody, including the Magistratus, stood. He gestured at the empty Senate Table. “Welcome to the two-hundred and eight-thousand, four-hundred and forty-eighth assembly of the Ogre Senate and the four-thousandth, three-hundred and twenty-fourth in the reign of Queen Cendrilla. Today, we greet four potentials to the Throne of Steppe and the future King of the Ogres.”

  Applause echoed across the room from the ogres sitting around the edges, but the babies remained calm in their step-fathers’ arms. Perhaps Prince Vanus had performed an enchantment over them to protect their ears from loud noises.

  The ceremonial witches who usually accompanied the Magistratus wherever he went stepped forward, holding aloft their glowing staffs.

  “Where are the infants who are to be blessed?” asked the old ogre.

  Father stepped to one side, letting Uncle Armin and Prince Vanus lay the babies on the table. Excited murmurs filled the room as the ogres leaned forward to see Aunt Cendrilla’s first half-ogre babies.

  “And who will perform the blessing?” asked the Magistratus.

  “I will,” said Aunt Cendrilla, “Along with my sister and niece, the Princesses Paloma and Alba.”

  Mother took my hand and walked to the front, where she positioned me between herself and Aunt Cendrilla. I’d forgotten we were both technically Princesses because of Mother’s high-fairy side.

  The Magistratus glanced from the babies to Mother and me. “Your Majesty, I would like the three Princes to join the ceremony to ensure there’s enough magic to bless all four infants.”

  “Between the two of us we could bless them and have plenty of power to spare,” said Fyrian.

  “He doesn’t know that.” Full ogres tended to view dragons as glorified horses who flew around, blowing fire. It didn’t matter to them that some, like Master Fosco, could transform into men.

  Gladius remained silent, to my relief. Unlike Fyrian, he couldn’t read my thoughts or memories unless I voiced them out loud through the bond.

  The twins stepped forward, taking their places next to Mother and Aunt Cendrilla, while Chrysus flew into my arms in a cloud of wildflower-scented air. Each of the Magistratus’ four ceremonial witches stood at a corner of the table and raised their staffs, creating two diagonal arches of white magic that spread out and formed a canopy.

  With a gentle smile, the Magistratus’ gaze moved from Robert to me, to Chrysus, and to Brandon. “The blessing needs the input of the infants most immediate blood-kin. Please place your hands on the stream of white magic at the edge of the table and push as much of your power into the blessing.”

  “What happens next?” asked Chrysus.

  A few of the ogres in the Senate snickered at the seemingly precocious child. Sometimes, even I forgot he was an eleven-year-old taking the appearance of a toddler.

  The Magistratus’ eyes twinkled. “When the blessing is full, it will fall down on your brothers like a spring shower.”

  Chrysus leaned forward within my grip, fluttering his transparent, golden wings. “Will it hurt?”

  “It may tickle a little,” replied the old ogre.

  Chrysus lowered his plump, little hand on the line of magic the ceremonial witches had placed on the table, turning it golden. I bent over him and added my own power, turning my side o
f the magic molten red. Aunt Cendrilla added flame-yellow power to the magic, Mother’s glowed as blue as her feathers, and the twins magic shone as pale as candle flames.

  The Magistratus beamed. “Wonderful! Now, Your Majesty, please recite the names of your new sons.”

  “Emmonsii, Ussuri, Nanulak, and Syriacus,” she said.

  “Thank you all, Your Majesties, Noble Ogres, and honored guests, for gathering today to welcome Princes Emmonsii, Ussuri, Nanulak, and Syriacus, of Steppe and the ogres to their naming ceremony.” The Magistratus raised his head. “This is a day of particular importance, as each of these infants will become rulers of nations or great Noble Houses.”

  A hush of appreciation spread across the Senate. Brandon would inherit the throne of the United Kingdom of Seven after its King, Uncle Armin, and Chrysus stood to rule the Realm of the Fairies, once the Queen stepped down. This left the thrones of Tundra, the Glacier Islands, Steppe, and the leadership of the Noble House of Bluebeard unclaimed. I exhaled a long, deep breath. If I hadn’t run away to become a dragon mage, I might have been devastated at Father choosing one of the quadruplets as his heir.

  “Which is the heir to the throne of Steppe?”

  Aunt Cendrilla gestured at the baby with the powder-blue hair. “Emmonsii.”

  The door slammed open. All eyes turned to the disruption. A seven-foot-tall warrior in black leather stepped in, his face obscured by a helmet. Panic exploded across my chest. Even without the ability to sense magic, I could tell who or what the male was.

  “Who would dare interrupt the most sacred ceremony?” asked the Magistratus.

  “A spriggan,” I unsheathed my parched sword, veins burning at the rush of power I received from Fyrian. “Kill it!”

  The spriggan disappeared and reappeared in mid-air above the canopy of magic. With the sweep of one hand, he pulled the magic off the table and waved it above his head like a flag.

  “Protect the children!” shouted the Magistratus.

  Everything happened at once. Aunt Cendrilla pulled out her staff and shaped it into a dome to cover the babies. I stretched out a beam of flames, skewering the spriggan through the middle. The ceremonial witches created a bubble of protection around the Senate Table. The Witch General appeared from nowhere and encased the spriggan in a binding spell. Father cleaved the spriggan in half with his Sword of Lightning. Both pieces of the dark fairy bounced off the protective barrier and rolled under the table.

  “My apologies.” The Witch General lowered her staff. “Apparently, the fairy wards around the Ogre Senate are—”

  Another spriggan dashed out from under the table with the magical blessing and raced through the Senate to the exit. Father snarled and chased after it. Master Fosco grabbed my arm and disappeared. We reappeared outside the Senate’s front doors, both wielding our swords.

  The spriggan dashed out of the building, glancing over his shoulder at Father. “Stupid ogre! Don’t you know—”

  I lanced him through the neck with my sword. The spriggan turned around, huge eyes wide, and released the blessing, which disappeared into sparks of magic.

  With an almighty swing of an invisible blade, Master Fosco decapitated the spriggan. “Filthy beast.”

  Father charged out of the Senate, holding his Sword of Lightning aloft, sparks of white magic dancing off its blade. “Where is he?”

  “There.” I pointed at the severed head then turned my finger to the spriggan’s body. “And there.”

  Father lowered his sword. “Well done.”

  “Fools!” Gladius appeared at our side and blew out a stream of black flames over the spriggan’s body. “A dark fairy isn’t so easily killed.”

  I jumped back out of the influence of the freezing fire.

  The spriggan’s head screamed. “P-please, st-stop. I’ll t-tell you anything!”

  While Gladius spewed dark flames over the spriggan’s writhing body, Master Fosco picked up the creature’s deformed head. “Talk.”

  “N-not while that beast is destroying me! What is he, anyway?”

  “Someone you don’t want to annoy.” Master Fosco gave his head a rough shake. “Speak. Why did you try to steal the blessing?”

  The spriggan’s jowls wobbled, and its face split into a grotesque grin of overlong, yellowed teeth. “Try? We succeeded.”

  My stomach dropped. “This spriggan ran out of the Senate holding a sheet of useless magic, luring us out of the way. If one can survive decapitation, the other one probably disappeared with the blessing.” I glared at the spriggan’s head. “You’re a decoy!”

  “What?” Father rushed back through the Senate’s doors, through the vast hallway, and through the double doors of the assembly hall.

  Mother, the Witch General, and Aunt Cendrilla stood shoulder-to-shoulder, each armed. The Witch General set up a one-way shield, protecting them from attacks, while Aunt Cendrilla poured flames out of her staff and set a bug-eyed ogre on fire. Father raced forward and slashed at every ogre who came close.

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth. The wretched opportunists had taken advantage of the spriggans’ attack and struck.

  There was no trace of Prince Vanus, the babies, or the rest of the royal family, whom I assumed the fairy had transported to safety.

  A large hand wrapped around my throat, its owner’s harsh voice whispering into my ear, “You’re coming with me, Princess Bluebeard!”

  Twisting, I slammed my palm onto the twitchy nose of a weasel-faced ogre. “No, you’re going to burn.”

  “Wha—” Before he could complete his sentence, I set my hand alight. The flames traveled down his oily covering of facial hair and into the collar of his embroidered, gold jacket.

  I kept on the pressure of the flames until the hand around my throat loosened and he fell to the ground a half-charred mess.

  All the other ogres remained in their seats, eyes wide. I bared my teeth. Why hadn’t any of them helped?

  “Attacks like this happen all the time,” said Fyrian. “In a fight with multiple opponents where you don’t know who’s on whose side, it’s best to stay out of it and avoid having your head chopped off by an ally.”

  I straightened my bodice. “At least no one got too badly hurt.”

  She huffed. “What about the dead ogres?”

  “They were cowards who had waited for Aunt Cendrilla’s weakest moment to attack.”

  Father cleaved off a twelve-foot-tall giant’s sword arm, leaving the male screaming on the Senate floor. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Mother bared her teeth. “They didn’t want a Bluebeard King.”

  He slashed his sword through the air, filling it with shards of lightning. “Who else disapproves of my sons? Show yourselves!”

  All the other ogres in their seats remained silent.

  Aunt Cendrilla extinguished the flames of her hands and straightened her ivory, leather bodice. “General Shipton, please send teams of Militia witches to each of the traitors’ homes and bring in their families for questioning.”

  With a nod, the Witch General stalked out of the room, making sure to cast me a suspicious glance. She probably still blamed me for the break-in at the Magical Militia prison.

  “Isn’t that harsh?” I asked in a small voice.

  “The Treason Law has been in effect for centuries,” said Fyrian. “Anyone who raises arms against the monarch of Steppe does so knowing that they condemn their entire families if they lose. If Auntie Rilla eased up on that law, then everyone with the slightest grudge would take off her head. That’s what the Vote of No Confidence is for. To bring up your grievances without familial repercussions.”

  My shoulders sagged. While I appreciated that Fyrian had gathered so much information from being Aunt Cendrilla’s messenger dragon, I hated the thought of innocents being punished for the actions of their family members. “This reminds me too much of what happened to Evolene.”

  “Blame those who took arms against Auntie Rilla. They just want thin
gs to return to the days when ogres ate humans for lunch.”

  Master Fosco stormed into the Ogre Senate, holding the spriggan’s disembodied head. “This one is ready to talk.”

  The spriggan beamed. “Oh, yes! You may burn me into char, but my master will reform my body and return me to his side.”

  “The Forgotten King?” asked the Magistratus.

  “When we feed him the blessing, everyone will remember his name!”

  My heart pounded in my chest like a war drum. “Where is he?”

  “We searched high and low, but now we are close.” The spriggan’s rheumy eyes rolled in their sockets. “And now my brethren have everything we need to raise our master!”

  Chapter 5

  Ignoring the manic laughter and gibbering of the disembodied spriggan’s head, I glanced around at the burned carcasses, slashed limbs, and writhing bodies of the ogres who had dared to attack. Had they been expecting Aunt Cendrilla to have babies with a full ogre?

  “Actually,” said Fyrian, “I got to hear a lot of gossip while flying around as a messenger dragonet. Quite a few ogres thought she would take Captain Leo as her fourth husband.”

  “Why?”

  “Both her mother and grandmother married their Captains of the Queen’s Guard. I supposed they thought she’d fall in line and do the same.”

  Shaking my head, I pictured the vain, golden-haired ogre who had gotten himself glamoured to appear like a handsome half-ogre. “Do you think he’s part of a conspiracy against her?”

  “He’s been around longer than I have,” replied Fyrian. “If he was plotting against your father, he would have made his move when your mother left him. That’s when he moved out of his mansion in the capital and into the palace.”

  Father slammed the spriggan’s head on the cracked table and pierced it through the forehead with his Sword of Lightning. The creature let out a blood-curdling scream but refused to reveal the location of the Forgotten King or where his comrade had taken the magical blessing.