Omnibus Two: Magical Arts Academy ~ Books 5-8

by Ashta, Lucia

  “Oui,” Arianne said, returning her attention to me with a triumphant expression on her face. She patted my waist. “I think we can expect great things from this young witch.”

  “Especially if we teach her the fundamentals,” Clara said, piercing Mordecai with an accusatory glare. It was free of malice, but obviously there was a history there I wasn’t privy to. “Unlike with me.”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” Mordecai said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I hope you don’t.” Clara’s face was back to being soft. “The way I did it was a hard way to learn. I don’t want that for her.”

  I already felt that the way I was learning magic was the hard way. I’d expected regular classes and teachers and books to tell me what to learn next. If learning through near-death or full-on death experiences wasn’t the hard way, then I definitely wanted to learn the easy way.

  “We’ll make sure to teach her all we can. Don’t you worry about that, ma chérie,” Arianne said to her granddaughter. “We’re not in a position to ignore potential. We need to develop all the strengths we can, and not only with Isa.” She turned and met eyes with Nando and Walt, then Marie, Gertrude, and Brave. “With all of you.”

  Marcelo nodded, his dark hair sliding into his eyes before he brushed it away. “We absolutely need to focus on developing everyone’s full potential. Even all of ours.” He gestured with his hands toward the experienced magicians. “This war is apparently coming whether we like it or not.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah, about that....”

  “What about that?” Mordecai’s head swiveled in my direction so quickly, every single bead in his beard and hair tinkled. It would have been comical had the expression on his face not been so fierce. “Did you find out where my brother is?”

  I swallowed. “I did.”

  “And? Where is he?”

  When I didn’t answer in the next half second, he pressed. “Well? Don’t make me wait, child.”

  “It’s not that I’m trying to make you wait, it’s more that you’re not going to like the answer.” If the ghost Mariana was sure Lady Gosselin and Steven weren’t going to like Albacus’ location, I was doubly certain Mordecai wouldn’t.

  “Bad news never improves with time, Lady Isadora,” Sir Lancelot said. “It’s best to get it out of the way and be done with it.” He nodded his feathery owl head at me sagely.

  It was sound advice, I knew it, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with what I suspected was going to be an intense response to my news. I really could use a lull between shocking events.

  One look at Mordecai told me I wasn’t going to get it. He seemed as if he was warring within himself not to advance on me and shake the news out of me.

  “It will be all right, Lady Isadora,” Sir Lancelot said.

  “How can you be so sure?” I whispered.

  “Because what you’re sharing is information. Knowledge is power. We need all the power we can gather in this war.”

  When I hesitated, he added, “It’s always better to know than not know.”

  “Always?”

  “Almost always.”

  “Isa,” Mordecai said, barely containing a growl.

  I gulped.

  His voice softened with desperation. “He’s my brother.”

  “The king’s brother Maurisse has him in some kind of dungeon inside his castle.” I was talking as fast as I could, eager to get it out of the way now that I’d committed myself to it. “He’s alone in the dungeon, captured by some kind of magical spells or something. Mariana is the one who located him, and she said he was aware of her presence. That’s all I know.”

  Every single member of the academy’s staff started talking at once.

  I wasn’t ready for the chaos. I sighed and looked up at the many enraged faces, all turned to me, looking for answers I didn’t have.

  Chapter 3

  Mordecai’s voice was the first I managed to distinguish, mostly because it was furious. “That scoundrel,” he spat. “That deceitful, awful man! All he does is ingratiate himself with people, and use them to his secret ends.”

  He paced back and forth across the small space between people and creatures, his hands at his waist, his long hair as wild as he looked right then. “I should have guessed it was he! Of course it is. It’s exactly the kind of thing he would do.”

  Arianne rose and stilled him with a touch to his shoulder. When he first looked at her, his eyes were unfocused, as if he were already at his brother’s side, fighting against the tyrant who took him.

  “Your runes already told you that Albacus was being held at the heart of the SMS,” she said. “They also told you there was a traitor on the Council.”

  “And what a traitor!” Mordecai roared. “There can be no greater betrayal than by the head of the Council. No wonder you and I haven’t been in full agreement with so many of its most recent dictates.”

  “Oui. Much begins to make sense now that we’re aware of Maurisse, yeah?”

  I noticed that everyone else had quieted and was watching Arianne and Mordecai’s interaction. I also realized why. The two magicians were the only ones on the secret Council. That automatically meant they had more information about Maurisse than any of us would. I was relieved they weren’t looking to me for answers I didn’t have. This was better.

  I was in the middle of wondering why Gustave wasn’t on the council as well—after all, he was Arianne’s twin, not just in looks but in talents. Sure, their magic varied some, but they both were attuned to working with magical beasts. From what I’d heard, Gustave was particularly skilled in working with dragons. There didn’t seem to be a grander creature in the magical world, so why wasn’t Gustave part of the council too?

  For once, my question was answered right away, almost as if Gustave had heard the inner workings of my mind. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously as he said, “It seems as if I had my reasons to delay in joining the council, doesn’t it?”

  Arianne faced him. “Oui, it certainly does. Your instinct on this was right, mon cher, just as it usually is.”

  “Gustave was invited to join the council?” Marcelo asked. “How long ago?”

  “I was,” Gustave said. “They extended the invitation to me after Giselle resigned.” His words trailed off toward the end, and I could almost see the gears in his mind turning. “You don’t think she knew?” he asked Mordecai.

  The wizard’s expression grew rigid. “I think she very well might have. That witch is as astute as they come. Nothing gets past her.”

  “Then why wouldn’t she say anything to us?” Arianne asked.

  “I wish I knew. But the one thing I do know is that she must have had her reasons. She never does a single thing without a very good reason.”

  “So she found out Maurisse was a traitor, but left him in charge of the Council, which rules the entirety of the magical world? That doesn’t quite make sense either. Giselle is all those things you said, but she isn’t a coward.”

  “No, she isn’t.” Mordecai looked thoughtful. “In fact, she’s brazen to the point that it sometimes causes problems.”

  “Sometimes?” Arianne chuckled.

  “All right, often.”

  Sir Lancelot cleared his throat. “Is this Giselle you’re referring to Grand Witch Giselle Tillsdale?”

  “Yes,” Gustave said.

  “Oh,” Sir Lancelot said, and I waited for more. With the pygmy owl, there was always more. “If half of what it’s said she’s done is true, then she’s earned her reputation a thousand times.”

  “And what does this Giselle have a reputation for?” Clara asked.

  “For being the last opponent you’ll ever take on,” Marcelo said, stepping closer to Clara as if this Giselle were a threat to her.

  “Then maybe we should recruit her to our cause.” Clara didn’t seem the least bit worried, even though her husband’s body was tight with tension.

  “You don’t understand what you’re sug
gesting,” he said.

  “I admit that I don’t. But we need strong allies, don’t we? Would she oppose the actions of the SMS?”

  “Oh, she’d hate them,” Mordecai said with certainty. “That’s why I’ve already invited her to join us.”

  “You did what?” Gustave and Marcelo said at the same time. “Without asking us?” Gustave added.

  Mordecai shrugged, unconcerned by the many furious looks pointed his way. Even Count Vabu seemed angry, and he rarely seemed much of anything beyond composed.

  The long-haired wizard met only Arianne’s eyes when he explained himself. “I had the thought of her and checked with the runes. Their alignment suggested it was a fine idea. So I sent her a missive.” He faced Marcelo, Gustave, and Count Vabu first, before everyone else. “There’s no need for a fuss anyway. She hasn’t answered, and she hasn’t shown up. And that woman knows how to portal.”

  Arianne chuckled sardonically. “That woman knows how to do just about everything.”

  “True.” But Mordecai seemed distracted again. “How do we get him out?” he murmured, not speaking for our benefit anymore, nor needing to clarify who him was.

  Then his head snapped upward with a jerk and he asked Gustave, “How’s Humbert fairing?”

  “He’s much improved, but whatever dark spell those SMS delinquents hit him with isn’t entirely gone yet.” Gustave pursed his lips in disapproval. It was moving to see he cared so much for the dragon.

  “Can he fly?”

  Gustave nodded, a strand of his combed-back red hair sliding out of place. He smoothed it back with a hand. “He can fly, but he can’t do what you’re suggesting he do.”

  “How do you know what I’m suggesting?” Mordecai plastered a look of innocence on his face that seemed completely out of place on the wizened wizard.

  “Because I know how you think.”

  “Oh you do, do you?”

  Marcelo stepped forward. “He’s right. You can’t do that. Even if Humbert were fully recovered, it’s too dangerous.”

  “So you believe you know what I’m thinking too?”

  “I’m sure I do. I’ve been around you and Albacus for years, remember? You trained me.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re aware of everything I think.”

  “No, but it does mean that I know you want to fly in on Humbert, break into Maurisse’s castle, and tear stuff apart until you find Albacus, set him free, and fly him to safety.”

  Marcelo didn’t even wait for Mordecai to confirm that’s what he’d been thinking. It was clear from the look on his face. “You can’t do it,” Marcelo said.

  “And why not? I’m my own man. I can do whatever I want.”

  “You’re like a father to me, so for that alone I’d ask you not to do this. But my other reason is for Albacus. We need a better plan, one with a greater chance of success.”

  “The plan will work.” Mordecai was stubborn.

  “The plan can work, but the likelihood of that is slim. Maurisse knows you.”

  “And so he should have known never to do something like this! That I wouldn’t stop until I’d recovered my brother.”

  “Yes, and he knows that’s what you’d think. He understands how important Albacus is to you. You were both on the Council with him, remember?”

  “Of course I remember,” Mordecai snapped. “What do I look like to you, some senile old man?”

  Marcelo chuckled. “Far from it. That’s why I have every confidence that we can come up with a far better plan, one with an actual chance of getting us out of there alive.”

  “He’s right,” Arianne said softly. “Now that we discovered where Albacus is, we’re going to get him. But we need a solid plan first, darling. We can’t just go flying in there like a wild thing. That’s what Maurisse will be hoping for. But if our actions are more measured, we’ll break Albacus out of there. Maurisse doesn’t stand a chance against us.”

  “How do you know that?” Mordecai’s emotions seemed all over the place. Angry, then desperate, now worried.

  “Because you are one of the most skilled wizards alive.”

  “It’s true,” Sir Lancelot piped up. “He’s a match for Grand Witch Giselle Tillsdale.”

  I raised my eyebrows at that. From what they said, Giselle sounded like an impressive witch. I’d realized already that Mordecai was remarkable in his own way, but I had no idea how significant his skills might actually be.

  When Mordecai didn’t shrug off the compliment, my eyebrows stretched toward my hairline. Mordecai didn’t strike me as someone capable of boasting. So he really is one of the greatest wizards there is. Wow.

  I exchanged a look with Nando. He looked surprised and impressed too.

  “We’ll figure this out, and we’ll get Albacus back,” Arianne continued. When Mordecai seemed to be wavering, she added, “Trust, mon cher. We’ll get him back.”

  Finally, Mordecai nodded, and I heard a few quiet exhales of relief around our haphazard circle. “All right. We’ll devise a plan first, and then we’ll go. But I won’t wait long.”

  “I realize that.”

  “I can’t wait long.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll bring him home.”

  “I have to.”

  Arianne nodded. “Remember that I have a brother too. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Gustave. I understand how you feel.”

  That seemed to trigger something in Gustave. He moved to Mordecai’s side, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get to work on our plan right away.”

  Marcelo said, “Since Maurisse is such a public figure, it should be relatively easy to get information about him and his comings and goings.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Mordecai said. “That man doesn’t have an honest bone in his body. He tells lies all day long.”

  “He’s right,” Arianne said. “He’s mastered the art of deceit more than anyone I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

  Gustave nodded. “Suspecting that Mordecai will come for Albacus, Maurisse might purposefully be staging things to mislead us.”

  “At least we know that,” Marcelo said.

  Wizard Meedles, with his hellhounds, and Count Vabu were making their way around to Mordecai, where a loose group of magicians was converging. I could already tell that the committee to plan the rescue would be Mordecai, Arianne and Gustave, Marcelo, Wizard Meedles, and Count Vabu. It made sense, I supposed, they were the most experienced. Even though Madame Pimlish and Priscilla probably could join too, but neither seemed inclined to.

  Mordecai took in those who’d gathered around him and nodded. “Let’s get started then.”

  “Where will you start?” Clara asked, looking as if she might want to join the planning session.

  “The only place we can,” Mordecai said while he jiggled the runes in his robe’s pocket. “At the beginning.”

  Well, that was as clear as mud. Clara seemed to think so too. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To the parlor. Parlors are good places to plan attacks.”

  I was going to have to take his word for it. He and the others started to move away, leaving the rest of us looking rudderless.

  “Wait,” I said, before I realized I was going to say it. Every single set of eyes focused on me. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be meek anymore, remember? I gulped, but said, “I haven’t quite finished my story. And I have questions I need answered.”

  “Your questions will have to wait, child.”

  “They can’t.” I was proud of myself for insisting. I wasn’t entirely sure why I was persisting more than a hunch I had. After coming back to life by imagining myself doing it, trusting my hunches—and myself—suddenly seemed important.

  Mordecai didn’t take a step back toward me, but he didn’t continue walking away from me either. Everyone else moved to my side, where I had to crane my head up to look at them.

  Arianne crouched down at my side, clutching the skirts of h
er dress in her hand. “What is it, darling?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “But I think it’s something.”

  She nodded and smiled. “Then tell us. What else do you have to say?”

  “Well, for starters, I met your great-great-aunt Sibylle when I was, uh, dead.”

  Arianne faltered. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she was a spirit.”

  She gasped and looked over her shoulder at Gustave. He placed a hand on the back of her neck.

  “Tell us everything.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Mordecai complained.

  “Ignore the grumpy wizard. Tell me about Sibylle.”

  So I did.

  Chapter 4

  “Poor girl,” Arianne said once I’d finished telling her about how I’d met and then helped Sibylle to move on from the spirit world. “She died so young. And then to be stuck here all this time....”

  “At least she’s moved on now,” Gustave said in an attempt to comfort his twin sister, though it was clear he was upset by the news of their ancestor’s lingering as well.

  “So, you knew about her?” I asked.

  Arianne shared a sad look with her brother before he answered. “Oh yes. No one in our family is ever forgotten.”

  “Besides, her story is particularly tragic,” Arianne said. “She was chasing her sister, our great-great-grandmother, who was several years younger than Sibylle. Well, the younger girl skirted around a well that was being dug, thinking it would slow down Sibylle.”

  “And Sibylle fell down the pit and died,” I said.

  Arianne nodded.

  “That explains why she didn’t realize she was dead for so long. If she died suddenly, she might not have had the chance to understand what was happening to her.”

  “So it would seem. From what Gustave and I were told as young children, she hit her head as she fell.”

  I suddenly realized that Arianne was crying. Nando noticed too and pulled me close to him, as if he were reflecting on how difficult the loss of a sibling would be.

  “Our great-great-grandmother never forgave herself,” Gustave said. “From what our grandmother told us, she refused to let Sibylle die, and spoke of her all the time, almost as if she were alive.”