Omnibus Two: Magical Arts Academy ~ Books 5-8

by Ashta, Lucia

  “You know that Maurisse will be expecting you to come retrieve your brother, don’t you?” Trevor was asking. Now that he and Delilah felt safe enough in our company, they seemed eager to help. Maybe a part of it was to secure their place at the academy. Whatever their reasons, I was grateful for their help. I was trying to be optimistic, but the more they talked, the worse our odds became.

  “He’d be stupid not to,” Mordecai said, trying to pace the parlor and finding himself unable to. “And Maurisse isn’t even a little bit stupid.”

  “He knows us,” Arianne said. “He’ll be certain Mordecai will come once he figured out where Albacus was being held.”

  “Since we no longer have the element of surprise,” Marcelo said. “We need to find a way to use Maurisse’s expectations against him.”

  I was glad no one was arguing that the students shouldn’t be a part of the planning process. Even Gustave, who’d strongly opposed our involvement before, didn’t seem bothered by anything but our chances of success. Somewhere along the way it would appear that the magicians had discovered that, no matter how much they tried to shield us from the SMS, we were still at risk. We deserved to be part of the planning, even if we didn’t contribute a peep. We were still novices, and this wasn’t an operation for novices.

  Nando stood closer than usual to me (I didn’t think he’d surpassed his fear of losing me yet, so I allowed it). Marie stood next to Nando, and Walt stood on the other side of me. Gertrude and Brave were closer to the mix of things. They might have been students, but they weren’t novices. We were the only ones who couldn’t participate much. Even Simon and his two siblings, Nicholas and Angelica, were in the throng.

  “So how can we use Maurisse’s awareness of our arrival to our advantage?” Marcelo asked. “There must be a way.”

  Everyone was silent for a moment while they considered the point. Even Sir Lancelot, who chimed in whenever he could, seemed at a loss for ideas. Mordecai fiddled with the runes in the pocket of his robe and looked distraught for a moment before he reined his emotions in and focused. Albacus’ absence had been hard on him. I suspected it had something to do with the fact that he’d already lost his brother once when he died. Like Nando, he was terrified of losing his sibling permanently.

  When no one had said anything for a full minute, and everyone looked deep in thought, I opened my mouth, urged by my promise to myself not to be meek anymore. “What if we do exactly what this Maurisse expects?”

  Nicholas was the first to look at me as if I were a fool.

  “What do you mean, darling?” Arianne asked.

  “Well....” I hesitated now that so many of them were studying me with what I interpreted as critical scrutiny.

  “Don’t let them intimidate you. Go on.” Arianne’s smile was soothing.

  “All right. Well, you say that this Maurisse is highly intelligent, manipulative, and skilled, right? You also say that you, Arianne and Mordecai, know him, which means he also knows you. In that case, wouldn’t he assume that you’d figure out that he’d be expecting you to come rescue Albacus, and that then you’d try to find a plan that would catch him unaware?”

  “What are you saying, child?” Mordecai asked, with a bit more impatience than I wished for.

  Nando draped an arm on my shoulder in encouragement. “I’m saying, he won’t anticipate you’d do the obvious, will he? He recognizes you’re skilled and powerful too. He knows you’re smart. Won’t he actually be expecting you to come up with something different than the obvious?”

  Again, no one said a thing at first, not even Sir Lancelot or Madame Pimlish, who seemed unable to control their interjections.

  “That’s the most twisted kind of logic I think I’ve ever heard,” Mordecai said. “And remember that I’ve lived a very long time.”

  “But it also might be on point,” Marcelo said, sounding as if he was actually considering my roundabout argument.

  “Yes. It might actually be on point. He won’t expect us to do the obvious. He’ll think it too... obvious.”

  “You think?” Arianne asked.

  “I do.” Mordecai sounded amazed that I might actually be on to something. “You know how he is. He’s a snob. He thinks magicians who do basic magic are beneath him. Which means he’ll be expecting us to do something sophisticated.”

  “Because he knows we’re capable of it.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Wow,” Walt said. “That’s some odd thinking.”

  “It very much is, Walt,” Mordecai said, not even bothered by the interruption. “But it might just be odd enough to work.”

  I caught Nicholas looking at me again. All mockery was gone, but I still wasn’t sure I entirely liked him. We hadn’t shared a word, but he seemed standoffish. Maybe I would have been too if I’d been cursed into the body of an animal and then flung into a war between sorcerers and magicians—one that no doubt wouldn’t end well.

  I stared back at Nicholas, refusing to look away first. Why? I didn’t really know. I just didn’t want to show weakness for some reason.

  Sir Lancelot chose that moment to perch on Walt’s shoulder. “Sir Walter, do you mind if I join you like this?”

  Sir Lancelot usually asked before he perched, but the space was too full for his usual drawn-out etiquette.

  “I don’t mind,” Walt said. “Perch away. In fact, you can always rest on my shoulder if it doesn’t look as if it’d be a problem.”

  Walt seemed... softer since I’d come back to life.

  “Oh, well thank you very much. That’s very kind of you, Sir Walter. I appreciate the extension of your courtesy.” Then Sir Lancelot turned to me, smiling that peculiar yet endearing pygmy-owl smile. “Your odd idea was a good one, Lady Isadora.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m just trying to help.”

  “I suspect you’ll help quite a great deal before the day is over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He means that you contribute in ways others can’t, despite your lack of experience with magic, Elwin said so that only I could hear. Which made hearing his deep, wise voice in my head all the stranger because Sir Lancelot continued on, unaware that I was engaged in an internal conversation.

  “I mean that your way of looking at the situation is entirely different from the way Maurisse will, and that Lord Mordecai and Lady Arianne and the rest of them would have. It’s fresh, shall I say?”

  “Why thank you, Sir Lancelot,” I said, mostly just to get him to be quiet so I could talk with Elwin. What are you saying, Elwin?

  What I’m saying rarely matters. It only skims the reality of events to come.

  Ugh. Why did I bother thinking you’d give me a clear answer?

  I wouldn’t know, Isa, especially when all the answers are already within you.

  Thanks for that, I sent out to him, when I really wanted to say, Thanks for nothing. But I didn’t. That was good of me, wasn’t it?

  I had a petite owl and a telepathic firedrake talking to me, and yet neither one managed to do anything but muddle my understanding further.

  Nando leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I always said you were fresh.”

  “No you didn’t.” I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow even though I wasn’t entirely sure he’d insulted me.

  “Ow.”

  “I didn’t hurt you,” I whispered.

  He grinned at me. “No, you didn’t.” My usually handsome and charismatic brother was starting to seem more like himself. It was finally sinking in that we were here to stay, though I was hoping that his Isa-can-do-no-wrong attitude would last a long while.

  “We’re back to storming Maurisse’s castle,” Mordecai said, drawing my attention. “See?” he said to Marcelo. “You should have let me do it in the first place like I wanted to. Albacus would have been long back by now.”

  “Yeah, and you might be dead,” Marcelo said. “You might consider yourself an invincible old coot, but you aren’t. And I, for one, don’t want to have to d
o without you.”

  “I wouldn’t have died.” But even Mordecai didn’t seem to entirely believe his protests.

  “But you might have. Now we have more skills to combine. We can all work together.”

  As if on cue, Gustave squeezed through Wizard Meedles and Madame Pimlish, then skirted Count Vabu and Priscilla, to reach the grouping of the witches and wizards in the middle of the parlor. “I have both good and concerning news,” he announced.

  “Well? What is it?” Mordecai asked, back to being impatient.

  “Humbert wants to join the fight.”

  “Then that’s just good news.” Mordecai’s eyes were bright at the prospect of finally returning Albacus.

  “No, it’s not.” Gustave frowned. “His injuries haven’t recovered as well as I’d like. The spell he got hit with was dark, and I mean very dark. He might be strong, but his recovery isn’t what I’d like it to be, even after all this time.”

  Sir Lancelot piped up, making his small voice seem important. The little owl had a way of making everything about him appear important. “He’s a large, vicious dragon. Surely if he thinks he can participate in the attack, he can.”

  “Attack? I thought it was supposed to be a rescue?” I whispered to Nando, but Sir Lancelot heard. He answered me at full volume, bringing everyone into the discussion. “The duke Maurisse will consider it a full-on attack, and so must we. Even if he is the cause for the attack, he’ll view us as the enemy. Am I correct in saying it, Lord Mordecai? I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds.”

  “You don’t overstep, and you are correct,” Mordecai said. “Don’t be fooled, Isa. What we’re about to do is dangerous.”

  Well what’s new about that? I hadn’t felt safe since I first met the wizard.

  “Maurisse will attack with everything he has, assuming he sees us coming. I agree in what you said now that I’ve had the chance to consider it more. He’ll think we’ll come at the rescue through subterfuge. He won’t see us attacking in force.” He turned back to Gustave. “And for that we’ll need Humbert.”

  Arianne’s twin was shaking his head in lament. I think he loved that dragon more than some people. “He’s not ready. He’s not as strong as he usually is.” He dropped the edge of his shoulders and looked around the room. “But he is determined. He wants to get back at the people who dared to harm him. He says sorcerers should know better than to take on a mighty dragon.”

  Sir Lancelot snorted, making the first ungentlemanly sound I’d ever heard from him. “The mighty dragon sure has a high opinion of himself,” he said only to Nando, Walt, Marie, and me.

  Gustave heard anyway. “He has every reason to think highly of himself.”

  Sir Lancelot instantly grew flustered but not entirely chagrined as I would have expected. “He is most certainly intimidating, Lord Gustave, I won’t deny that. I’m glad it’s you and not me who has to deal with him. He has it out for me, I’m sure of it.”

  One side of Gustave’s mouth crept up in amusement. “Oh, I wouldn’t think you’d be frightened of him.”

  “Who said I was frightened?” Sir Lancelot tilted his head up high atop Walt’s shoulder. “I just have a healthy sense of self-preservation. I’m not even the size of his snout.”

  “Excuse me,” Delilah interjected, and I instantly regretted it. Despite the urgency of the circumstances, I always enjoyed watching Sir Lancelot when he was flustered. “What exactly happened with this dragon Humbert?”

  “Clara and Marcelo were on a mission to distract the SMS while Mordecai rode out to recruit Marie and Walt here,” Gustave said, and I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t mention that Mordecai had set out only to recruit Marie. Just like me, Walt had only come along at first because of his sibling. “Clara and Marcelo rode Humbert. The SMS surrounded them from the ground and sky. Humbert was hit by a nasty spell. I think the magic was so dark that even Humbert has been struggling to overcome it. He’s healing, but the darkness still lingers within him, even if it is diminishing.”

  “Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’m here.”

  In unison, every single head in the parlor turned toward the unknown voice. Even the firedrakes and hellhounds stared openly at the woman pushing her way between Wizard Meedles and Madame Pimlish, forcing them apart so she could enter.

  The woman was petite and thin. If I didn’t know better, I’d deem her inoffensive. But I did know better. I didn’t need an education in magic to sense the power that radiated off this woman.

  Wizard Meedles, Count Vabu, and Priscilla towered over her. Even Madame Pimlish, who was rounder than she was tall, looked down on her.

  But this woman was imposing in every way but the physical. “I’m hoping you already have a plan, because I’m not in the mood to waste time. It already took me long enough to break through your wards so I could portal in here. Not a very friendly welcome considering you invited me, Mordecai.”

  “Giselle.” Mordecai sounded as shocked as the rest of us looked, even though he’d invited her to join our ranks. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

  “That’s what you get for thinking then. Tell me you have a plan to rescue Albacus and put Maurisse in his place.”

  I had no idea how she might know what we’d been planning, but I wasn’t about to ask. My plan not to be meek anymore went out the window where she was concerned. I’d be quaking in my boots if I were wearing any, and she wasn’t even threatening me. I didn’t think she was threatening anyone. I suspected—and partially feared—that this was just the way she was.

  Which meant she could only be one woman....

  “Grand Witch Giselle Tillsdale,” Sir Lancelot whispered, sounding sufficiently awed for the rest of us.

  Grand Witch Giselle whipped her head in his direction, which meant she was staring straight at us. “Sir Lancelot, good to see you still remember me.”

  “You know who I am?” Sir Lancelot sounded like he was in the presence of a great and mighty king the way he squeaked and then tried to cover up his nervousness.

  “Of course I do. I never forget a face.”

  I had to agree with her that Sir Lancelot wasn’t forgettable. How many brilliant talking owls do you know? Exactly.

  She turned back to Mordecai, taking in Arianne, Gustave, Marcelo, Clara, and the rest of them. When no one said anything, she barked. “Well? I didn’t think we had time to waste. What’s the plan?”

  I suspected we didn’t have one yet, but Mordecai said, “Storm the castle, rescue Albacus, and then take care of Maurisse and Miranda so they can never bother anyone again.”

  “Sounds like my kind of plan. Take me to the dragon so we can get started right away.”

  Gustave responded to her order instantly. “He’s on the roof.”

  “Lead me there.”

  And just like that Giselle swept in and out of the parlor, and we suddenly had a foolhardy plan that I’d more or less suggested.

  For better or worse, we were on our way to ending this. I just hoped it’d end the way we wanted.

  Because there were approximately a million things that could go wrong with this plan.

  “Everyone,” Arianne called out. “Let’s get moving. We have an attack to set in motion.”

  Magicians and creatures sprang into action. Even though I had no idea what I could do to contribute, I got going too.

  The sudden burst of energy was contagious. I’d come back to life for a second chance. I intended to make the most of it, even if I had no idea what that looked like.

  “Come on,” I said to Nando, Walt, and Marie, leading them into the foray. We were at an academy for the magical arts, and we were all used to learning the hard way.

  Omnibus Three ~ Books 9-13

  Continue Isadora’s adventures in Omnibus Three of the Magical Arts Academy.

  Want More?

  Isadora’s adventures continue in

  CASTLE’S CURSE

  within Omnibus Three of Magical Arts Academy.

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  Acknowledgments

  I’d write no matter what, because telling stories is my passion, but the following people make creating worlds (and life) a joy. I’m eternally grateful for the support of my beloved, James, my mother, Elsa, and my three daughters, Catia, Sonia, and Nadia. They’ve always believed in me, even before I published a single word. They help me see the magic in the world around me, and more importantly, within.

  I’m grateful for every single one of you who’ve reached out to tell me that one of my stories touched you in one way or another, made you smile or cry, or kept you up long past your bedtime. You’ve given me reason to keep writing.

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