Winged Pursuit (Magical Arts Academy Book 2)

by Lucia Ashta

  Numb, I placed Nando’s sword on the ground next to me with care, making a mental note to find its sheath before I damaged the blade’s edge, and started patting down the woman, who looked inoffensive now that she was dead.

  I forced myself not to focus on what I was doing.

  One step at a time. Save my brother... then save the world.

  Chapter 8

  It had been an awfully long day already and we were only just finishing up breakfast. All my clothing had been lost when we’d abandoned the carriage with my trunk on our way over to Acquaine, but it turned out that I fit into Gertrude’s dresses perfectly, and Arianne had already scheduled the seamstress to come take my measurements for a whole new wardrobe today.

  They were doing a good job of providing for my needs, despite all the danger and distraction. But I’d never been one to care much about clothing—other than I preferred to be wearing it. I wanted to chase after my brother’s kidnappers—even though I understood why I couldn’t. At the very least I wanted to be learning how to do something substantial to help when—not if—the SMS attacked us again.

  All of us who sat at the table, and Sir Lancelot who perched at the windowsill, agreed that this was only the first of many attacks the SMS would have likely planned. Already, it was the second time they’d broken through the estate’s protections, and that made everyone uncomfortable.

  “We’ll have to do something to bolster our wards,” Marcelo was saying. “Clearly they’re no longer doing their job.”

  “Clearly,” Mordecai said, looking forlorn for a second while he stared at the congealed yolk of his egg.

  “Don’t be upset with yourself about it,” Marcelo said. “You can’t predict everything the SMS is going to do.”

  “I do blame myself. This never used to happen, but I always had someone to exchange ideas with. Even if he was infuriating at times when he argued with me, between the two of us, we always got where we needed to be.” Mordecai looked up at the man he considered like a son. “I need to get him back. I don’t do well without him.”

  I felt as if I shouldn’t be witness to the old wizard’s vulnerability, but then, it’s not like he was hiding it from me. I crossed my fingers in my lap and waited. There was plenty to resolve, and I didn’t want to excuse myself from the table until I received clarity on at least some of it.

  “We’ll get him back,” Marcelo promised with vehemence, and none of the rest of us at the table, not me or Brave, needed clarification of who him was. Mordecai was aching for Albacus as I was for Nando.

  Marcelo held Mordecai’s gaze until the old wizard’s moroseness was replaced with resolve. “We’ll get him back,” he repeated.

  Marcelo nodded, dark hair sliding into his eyes. “Absolutely. But in the meantime, we need to better protect this place.”

  “Or move,” Brave said from next to his uncle. “Shouldn’t we consider moving the school someplace else?”

  “Perhaps we should. What do you think, Mordecai? We could go to Irele or Bundry.”

  “Or Washur.”

  “No,” Marcelo said. “That’s not an option.”

  “Well, I didn’t really think it was a good one. If I never go back there again in my lifetime, that will be fine by me.”

  “Exactly. So, what do you think, Mordecai? Shall we move the school while we only have one student?”

  “Two students,” I said. “My brother and me.”

  Marcelo looked to me, and I swore there was pity in his eyes. I didn’t like it, not one bit, even though I suspected he was just trying to be compassionate.

  “Or isn’t it actually four students?” I continued, ignoring the look. “I thought you said Brave and Gertrude would be studying too.”

  Marcelo’s lips upturned slightly. “They will, though they won’t be beginners like you and Nando. And if I know my wife, she’ll want to study too.”

  Mordecai chuckled as if he hadn’t been sad moments before. “True enough. Even though there isn’t much I can teach Clara, there never has been.” He stared off into the distance, then said, “No, I don’t think we should move the school. We’ll just run into the same issues wherever we go. Besides, we’ve seen what can happen even when we thought we were safe at Irele.”

  Mordecai’s mood plummeted again, and I wondered what tragedy had taken place in this Irele I’d never heard of.

  “We stay here. It’s as good a place as any. It’s large enough to accommodate the amount of students we hope to take on.”

  “And it’s cheerier than the other two options,” Brave piped up. “I like that.”

  “Yes, son, I do too. I’m ready for happier times. Let’s hope we’ll have them once we rescue Nando and Albacus.”

  I cleared my throat. “How many students do you anticipate admitting to the school?” It seemed strange talking about a school when for now it seemed only like a very large house.

  Marcelo answered. “As many as we can find.”

  “It’s a bit trickier than you might suspect to find children who are well suited to magic,” Mordecai said. “That is, ones who haven’t already been raised in magical households, like my brother and I were, and Marcelo and Brave were as well, though their circumstances were far different.”

  I wanted to ask about all this history, but he trudged right along, and I had the feeling there were some questions I’d have forever.

  “If the child has already been raised in a family where magic is common, then that’s easy, and we’ll take all of those students we can get.”

  “That haven’t been tainted by the propaganda of the SMS,” Marcelo interjected.

  “Yes, that’s the biggest issue with children who are already aware of magic. The SMS has been waging its war of influence for a long time.”

  “Which makes it harder to ensure that any student we take from a family that possesses magic is truly free of those prejudices.”

  “And it’s why choosing pupils who aren’t aware of magic already is somewhat easier.”

  “Because if they aren’t aware of magic, then they can’t possibly know of the SMS’ plans for the world. They can’t secretly be a part of their organization.”

  “What, like a spy?” I asked. “Children wouldn’t be spies, would they?” Certainly not.

  But the intense looks on the three faces that surrounded me at the table suggested otherwise. Mordecai, Marcelo, and Brave looked as if they’d believe anything at this point.

  I swallowed. “The SMS’ influence runs that deep?”

  “It absolutely does,” Brave said. “You don’t realize this yet because you’re only just beginning to learn about magic, but you sit among very skilled wizards. What the SMS has already accomplished here at Acquaine says a lot about their level of resources.”

  “Speaking of,” Marcelo said, ignoring Brave’s compliment. “Now that we understand that they must have learned of our wards, we still haven’t figured out how they got a piece of me to replicate my physical appearance and slip through our protections.”

  We’d found three other nearly identical pocket watches on the dead SMS agents on the rooftop. After Mordecai, Marcelo, and Brave incinerated the bodies, they directed a current of wind to carry the ashes away. Before joining us for breakfast, Mordecai hid the watches somewhere they couldn’t be used to spy on us. As far as we could tell, our conversation was private.

  “It’s an issue you’ll have the answer for sooner than I,” Mordecai said. “You’ll have to think back, was there ever a time you left a hair or anything of you behind?”

  “I’ve already gone over the last few weeks. When Clara and I travel on missions, we even bring our own bowl and spoon.”

  Missions? I wanted to know more about these missions.

  “That’s the thing, the SMS could have been planning for months, years even. Can you be sure you didn’t leave a single hair behind anywhere you’ve gone in years?”

  The scowl on Marcelo’s face was all the answer Mordecai needed. “If you figure i
t out, great, it’ll help us understand our enemy better. But if you don’t, son, direct your attention elsewhere. There are a thousand ways they could have gotten a piece of your hair if they’ve been planning this coup for as long as I think they might have. With the watches and this listening magic, they would have had all they needed to break our wards.”

  “It’s infuriating.”

  What was? That they’d gotten his hair, or that they’d pulled one over on them?

  “I know, trust me, I know. They’ve been one step ahead of us for far too long.”

  Brave leaned onto the table with his elbows. “So what are we going to do about that? How do we turn the tables? Surely, with the combined skill level of all the magicians in this school, we can get one step ahead of them.”

  “We’ll have to.” Mordecai’s lips pursed into a line so thin it disappeared into his beard. “Come join us, Sir Lancelot. Let’s brainstorm.”

  “Thank you kindly for the invitation, Lord Mordecai, you do know how I love to brainstorm, but I don’t dare abandon my post.”

  It was only then that I realized that the diminutive owl had been the lookout.

  “I appreciate your dedication, Sir Lancelot, really I do, but I’ve already altered the protection wards to allow only us to come and go, and to cover all surfaces, including entry from the sky. I’ve even covered the circumstance of them somehow figuring out how to burrow in from the ground, because I have no idea what they might next come up with. Humans don’t ride firedrakes—not ever—and yet they flew in on firedrakes.”

  “Why didn’t they ride in on dragons?” I asked.

  “Oh, child, you have lots to learn indeed.”

  But just as I was about to take offense at Mordecai’s words—after all, I wanted to learn, but this ‘school’ wasn’t doing much to teach me!—his eyes twinkled. I forgot to be angry.

  “There are few dragons around here.”

  “Are there no more? Or are they someplace else?”

  “It’s hard to tell,” Marcelo said. “Dragons can go to places we can’t, not even with magic. There could be thousands of them up in the sky beyond where we see. They might live on the highest peaks.”

  “As magical creatures,” Sir Lancelot said, from the windowsill where he remained, “it’s entirely possible that they’ve created some sort of alternate space where they live. They could be almost anywhere, even hidden in plain sight.”

  Mordecai waved a hand in impatience. “Yes, yes, while that’s all true, we don’t yet have the luxury of time for all these academic hypotheses and explorations.”

  Soon though, I hoped we would soon. The thought of dragons hiding in some magical pockets around the world was fascinating. I hoped it was true!

  “For now, we need to focus on the issue at hand.”

  “It’s not like you to turn down a theoretical discussion of magical or mythical creatures,” Marcelo said.

  “It’s not something I’m happy about doing. I’d rather spend my days discussing the potential existence of a whole race of dragons we’re unaware of than plan for war with sorcerers with no problem directing dark magic at us.”

  Well, that was a mood dampener. My fascination at the dragons deflated.

  Mordecai turned his frustration on me. “To answer your question before we digress any further, dragons are rare, and magicians who can ride them and direct them are even rarer.”

  Marcelo nodded. “What you saw Arianne and Clara do is a rare and old magic. Gustave can do it too, but not many others. None that I know.”

  “The SMS might not have any dragons, and they very likely don’t have sorcerers among them who can ride them,” Mordecai added.

  “I hope that’s true,” I said. Humbert was ferocious looking. I didn’t want to imagine dragons like him attacking us. I shook off the image with difficulty. The picture of jaws that could chomp on me and eat me in two giant bites reared in my head.

  “Come over here, Sir Lancelot,” Mordecai insisted. “We’re safe enough for now.”

  Sir Lancelot turned from the window to look at him. He raised the feathers above his huge eyes as if to say, Really? I’m not so sure.

  It was exactly what I was thinking, and I almost laughed at how Sir Lancelot behaved so much like a little man. Where had they found this talking owl, anyway?

  But in the end, Sir Lancelot apparently trusted Mordecai, which was encouraging. He dropped the attitude and flew to perch on the back of Mordecai’s chair, which placed him right next to me.

  He tilted his head at me. “You’ll forgive me, Lady Isadora, if I shed. Please mind your food if you haven’t finished. It’s something I can’t control.”

  He said it like it was shameful, and I wanted to laugh so badly at this owl, who was embarrassed to discover himself an animal. But I hid my mirth, and bowed my head to him, offering him all the dignity I was beginning to understand he deserved. “It’s no problem, Sir Lancelot, I assure you. I’m grateful for your council as much as anyone else here.”

  It turned out to be the right thing to say. Sir Lancelot stood tall on the back of Mordecai’s chair and puffed out his chest. He cleared his throat. “As I see it, we need to understand what the SMS stands to gain by kidnapping Lord Hernando. Certainly, it was a risky move. We need to increase the protection of this place. I suggest at this point that we consider putting out a call to mages we’re certain aren’t affiliated with the SMS to bolster our numbers. We thought we could do it with the staff we have; we might need to reevaluate that decision. At this rate, we need more protectors and more teachers.

  “I agree that the recruitment of new students should be a priority. The SMS won’t give up easily. We need to do all we can to ensure that our defense of magic and humans persists years from now. Of course, I most certainly agree that the rescue of Lord Hernando and Lord Albacus are of utmost importance. I’ve never been one to agree that a man should be left behind.”

  His chest inflated even more, and I suspected he believed himself to be a man.

  “I would also humbly suggest that at the very least I might begin teaching Lady Isadora, so that her studies might start. And perhaps it’s time to bring the Magical Council in on this. What do you think, Milords?”

  “I think,” Mordecai began, “that the present situation was aptly summarized, thank you. Those are the most pressing issues. To start, I’m of the mind that the SMS took Nando and Albacus to draw us out into the open to pick us off that way.”

  Marcelo nodded his agreement, seeming unhappy about it. I couldn’t blame him. His wife was out there, flying into danger, trying to rescue my brother. I experienced a pang of guilt that others should put themselves at risk for my brother and me, but it wasn’t like we’d asked for any of this....

  Marcelo leaned forward. “We can’t be certain the SMS took Albacus.”

  “No, we can’t, but do you really think my brother would be off gallivanting somewhere instead of helping us with all this going on?”

  “No, I don’t, especially not when the last time we saw him we were being pursued by a whole gang of the SMS. He’d want to be here to help, which I agree makes it more likely that either the SMS took him, or something else is holding him up.”

  Brave said, “If the SMS has him, wouldn’t they want us to find out? I’d think they would have reached out to inform us they held him captive. It’d be another reason for us to leave the relative safety of Acquaine. At the very least, they’d want to cause us unease. The more of that, the better in their view.”

  Of all he said, my focus settled on ‘the relative safety of Acquaine.’ It seemed that Brave didn’t entirely trust the protection of this place, which didn’t help to put me at ease. The SMS was definitely doing a bang-up job of creating unease within me.

  “That’s a good point, Brave,” Marcelo said. “It would make sense for the SMS to want to gloat about Albacus.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I guess we have to wait to see what our friends say once they return.”
>
  I’d thought Marcelo was handling his wife being in danger quite well, until I noticed the murderous glint to his eyes. The more I looked, the more I ascertained that it was a huge effort for him to keep his desperation under control. His muscles were coiled beneath his clothing. There was nothing relaxed about him. “We won’t have to wait long. I’m giving them half a day to return to us and then I’m going after them.”

  “I understand how you feel having Clara out there—”

  “I’m not sure you do.”

  “Arianne is out there.”

  Marcelo stared at the older man.

  Mordecai stared back. “Fine, half a day.”

  “I’m giving them till lunchtime. Then I’m pursuing.”

  “Even though you don’t know where they are.”

  “It won’t matter. I’ll find them.”

  I looked to all of them for a beat. “Uh, am I missing something? I thought you said there weren’t many dragons out there and that hardly anyone could ride them. How would you even pursue them?”

  “I’ll find the way.”

  Marcelo’s expression was so determined and so furious that I didn’t doubt for a moment that he would. “Right,” I whispered. After all, what did I know?

  Marcelo said, “Let’s start compiling a list of witches and wizards who we’re sure are safe to ask to join. Mordecai, will you call on the Magical Council?”

  The old wizard didn’t answer for a long time, seemingly lost in thought. “Yes, I suppose it’s time to bring them in.”

  “Do you think they’ll try to interfere with the recruitment process of new pupils?”

  “I doubt it. They’re intelligent enough to understand that our hope is in however much of a settled future we can manage.”

  “And if they try to interfere, you’ll ignore them anyway?”

  “Precisely.” He sighed and started to stand. “It’s time to get paper and the runes. If you’re to take off after luncheon, then we have lots to settle before then. Mages, students, the council.”

  “Shall I continue to keep watch, Milord Mordecai?” Sir Lancelot asked.