Dancing With Demons (The Academy of Amazing Beasts Book 3)

by Melody Rose

  With a grumble and a clearing of my throat, I imagined Nascha’s study, an environment I was familiar with. Of course, on a surface level, it was bastardized by Serafina’s regrettable tastes. However, every living mage, even an abyssal one, left behind energetic signatures. I sought to channel that so that I could cloak myself in it, as doing so would mask my enchanted espionage.

  Montrez-moi l'étude du doyen et tout ce qui se passe à l'intérieur. I concentrated on my spell without speaking. Show me the dean’s study and all that transpires within.

  Strange. The looking glass before me didn’t immediately depict the subject I asked for. Instead, it rippled like a mirage. I wondered if the spell was delayed or prevented due to a series of wards. No matter. I had plenty of experience disabling those. I was, after all, the top of my class in Offensive and Defensive Magic.

  Dissolvez les protections contre l'injustice qui m'éloignent de la vérité. I harnessed such a great deal of discipline into undoing any enchanted blocks that my temples ached. This was taking more mana than I expected. Dissolve the unjust wards keeping me from the truth.

  I howled in indignation as a bright glimmer scorched my eyes, temporarily robbing me of my vision. An invisible force sent me catapulting backward, and I landed with a crash onto the ground. When I regained my sight, shards of glass swirled around me, buzzing like dragonflies. I knew it was a reverse charm designed to intimidate me, and I reacted accordingly. Right as the broken pieces began to rain down, I created an arc with my hand. A clear dome materialized around me, sparing me from getting torn up.

  Looking toward the kitten I inherited from the circle of eternal death, I noticed that it slinked over to inspect me. I was glad to see that it didn’t stupidly step on one of the sharp slivers littering the ground. It occurred to me that perhaps a familiar could play out in my favor after all.

  As though reading my mind, the kitten cleared a path, casually but cleverly nudging the pesky shards away. Yes. I was clearly the companion meant for this creature. So young and yet such a keen survivalist. It placed a paw on the clear dome encasing me, peering in. Its eyes were ridiculously large for its small body, and yet this was somehow endearing.

  Very well. I would tie myself to it in the traditional fashion, an ancient rite that most had forgotten. In times of yore, mages would name their familiar after a famous figure they hoped the creature would emulate.

  “Noble créature, tu t'appelles…” I began. “Noble creature, your name is…”

  Suddenly, it came to me. A story my mother had read to me as a child of a war poet from Quzah Alsahra, the “Rainbow Desert,” known for its ferocious monsters, jewelry trade, and fragrant bazaars with caravans draped in exquisite silk. He went by the name of al-Ghadanfar, “the Lion,” and was known as the fiercest bard in all the realms. Not only would he travel to observe battles, but he would also leap into the fray without a pinprick of fear. His trusty familiar, Rumel, was a sandy-furred cat who looked to have dipped his paws and maw into the very inkpot his companion wrote from. He was also a shrewd spy, melting into the cover of shadows to gather vital information for his mage. Al-Ghadanfar was said to have owed his most laudable tales to his familiar’s exploits.

  “Rumel,” I decided. “So mote it be.”

  With enough training and discretion, Serafina or whomever my enemy was would be no match for a seemingly innocent kitten. I could only imagine what Rumel would be capable of if we appealed to the spirit of its namesake.

  And so it came to pass that the solitary warlock, Theo, willingly took on his first and only familiar.

  20

  Joan

  Apparently, since I’d been earning so many spell points, Aurelius demonstrated such mastery of his hunting, and my course load wasn’t seen as rigorous enough, someone had pulled strings to put even more on my plate. When I was just about to head off to enjoy some downtime and catch lunch with Becks, a carrier crow came to nip that in the bud. I heard its vicious squall first, then felt the thump of a rolled-up scroll against my head.

  Was this Serafina’s new method of communication? For all her prissy charm, this method was way cruder than Nascha’s personal meetings. Plus, the old dean actually tried to work with her students’ schedules rather than teleporting them without warning or thwacking them with a note.

  I grumbled and caught the scroll before it fell to the ground. After I unraveled it, I studied its message and rolled my eyes. I looked down at Aurelius and ruffled his crimson fur, currently safe to pet and not blazing hot.

  “I guess I have you to blame for this, huh?” I stuck out my tongue playfully. “You’re such a dang prodigy that now Serafina’s going to make me jump through hoops. I can’t just skate by in my third year like some other folks can!”

  I was basically being told that what I thought was my lunch period would now be used for “independent study.” Except, in the irony of ironies, I didn’t have any say in this at all. For one, I would never ask for an elective during a time when I could eat. I also wouldn’t have figured that “Dragon Taming” was a wise choice for a third year. I mean, no one at large knew of my encounters with Coeur, the noble dragon I had ridden alongside Theo on Apalala. A normal third year without the benefit of my previous knowledge and experience would be mincemeat before such militant and temperamental beasts.

  If Theo’s suspicion of Serafina could be trusted, she was just sending me on a fool’s errand. Even with all I knew, I’d be isolated from my friends, grumpy, exhausted from constant classes, and dealing with elitist dragons. I mean, it isn’t as though I could blame them. They were ancient guardians who grew jaded by mages who couldn’t measure up to their sky-high standards. What those were, I didn’t really know. Even Theo admitted that the desires and “creeds” of dragons were so “lost in lore” that he couldn’t decode them. There was the only reason why he was able to find two that were willing to tolerate and allow us to ride them.

  Coeur and Apalala were his mother’s familiars, a fact I could barely fathom or even the rest of Lemuria, for that matter, causing them to be soul-bound to him. Even Abelard couldn’t inspire a dragon to attach to him, and no other mage than Audrei Von Brandt had been able to earn the trust of the noble beasts. She was always a legend due to her logic-defying connection with dragons but passed away before her secrets were ever divulged.

  I took a deep breath and went over the message one more time, hoping there was some mistake. Maybe it was only a theory class where I read up on dragons. That wasn’t so bad. It was irritating to lose my lunch period, of course, but at least I could study a subject that interested me. I could even apply that knowledge to Coeur and befriend him. I never was able to meet Audrei, but I may have been able to better understand her if I could truly connect with a dragon. My last encounter with Coeur was positive but brief, so that didn’t really count. Plus, I was so dazzled by the very sight of the scaled creatures at the time that I didn’t even consider how rare the experience was.

  Sure enough, though, the note specified that I was expected to tame real, live dragons. Not just Coeur and Apalala either, but the whole lot that Bouclier housed. I thought I picked up on the cloying smell of peonies, yet Abelard himself had signed off on this. There wasn’t any direct mention of Serafina at all.

  I still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was responsible for this. I couldn’t lie that it would spread me pretty thin. I was juggling an epic amount of academic responsibilities. Like hell I would back down, though. It wasn’t as if I hustled through dual full-time jobs as a veterinary assistant and a baker on Earth just to crumble from one extra class.

  “Well, that’s that, Auri,” I told my hound, who growled softly and flickered in full force. “Whoa, whoa! Settle down, bud. I know it’s a ploy. Theo and I will get to the bottom of it. For now, let’s see if we can make a few extra friends. I bet you’d like that, huh?”

  Aurelius just whimpered and gave what was best described as a shrug. I laughed, running my palm over the heat of his pyro
technic coat. The strangest thing was that it actually burned to the touch. I thought that that wasn’t possible, that I was immune to his flames. That definitely complicated matters. I wondered what had gotten into him.

  Eventually, Aurelius stopped growling, but his flames still hadn’t diminished as I winded through the labyrinth that would lead to Bouclier’s dragons. I wondered if the rumors were just an exaggeration or if I would really be meeting all of the legendary beasts that existed in all Lemuria.

  When I figured that I finally completed the dizzying trek, in the middle of the maze by my estimations, I stood in front of a stone gateway. The Van Brandt crest was engraved into the cold marble, telling me I was in the right place. It depicted a tower shield superimposed in front of a greatsword as two angelic wings sprouted from either side. A duo of dragons floated above the sword and shield, each one facing a different direction. They appeared to be vigilant, on edge even as they scanned the world for any possible threat.

  I touched the stone emblem to open the gateway. These touchstones were the main way professors locked busybody lower-class mages out of advanced classes. Sometimes, the siren call of weighted spell points was too strong, so newbie witches and warlocks used every page in their Books of Shadows to snatch them up, but these touchstones ensured they wouldn’t slide in on a class out of their league. If I was given special permission by Abelard, then my hand should’ve been enough to get me in.

  It didn’t budge. I groaned as my shoulder blades pinched together, and I looked behind me. The frenzy of hedges wasn’t quirky anymore. I was queasy, and I wondered if this was less of a trick and more of a hit job. To see if it was all in my head, I studied Aurelius to see what he made of it all. He wasn’t any more bothered than usual. My hound just buried his snout in my pocket and grabbed onto the rolled-up scroll with his teeth.

  That made sense. My anxiety thawed as I took it from him. He made a small noise that I interpreted as the go-ahead. Flattening out the scroll, I turned back to the door. I pressed it against the marble like I was taping up a concert poster. The cloudy grey stone and its crest trembled and filled with what looked like thin streams of molten lava.

  That definitely did the trick. Instead of swinging open like a traditional door, the solid gateway dissipated. I walked through, and as I did, I hit a type of emotional crescendo. Despite all of my reservations, I was genuinely excited. Fireworks of curiosity erupted within me, and I looked down at Aurelius to see if he was as amped up as he was.

  He just sort of huffed out through his nostrils. It was hard for me to make out his reaction, even though we were usually on the same page. I shrugged, figuring that maybe Lemurian-born beasts were pretty blasé about dragons. It wasn’t as if he grew up on children’s picture books where the scaled creatures have ignited the imagination like fairy tale kerosene.

  Once I approached the pack of dragons, I had to hand it to Aurelius: It was a bit of a bummer. Instead of snarling on mountains of riches, they were all flopped on their bellies on a sweeping courtyard adorned with a matrix of gemstones. From what I knew about channeling crystals, the design of this was probably meant to charge up these dragons and stimulate every latent ability.

  From the looks of it, it was doing a terrible job, though.

  I walked over them and started poking them, not even afraid of whether they’d bite back. I mean, the dragons were that lethargic. It was a truly sad sight to behold. They didn’t so much as growl or fidget at my disturbance.

  I sighed. This really was the definition of an independent study class. I wondered if this would end up docking me spell points because I couldn’t get anything to happen. Since I couldn’t inspire them to wake up out of their stupor with mere prodding, I decided to turn my focus to a makeshift bookshelf that sat behind the dragons.

  It was of a very flimsy design, basically a bunch of twigs. The first thought that came to mind was that it was probably made by a child. I wondered if it might’ve been Theo’s. Maybe it was his very first spell as a kid when his mom brought him out here? I smirked and perused the literature that sat atop it, all very sophisticated looking tomes. I had to admit, the contrast was pretty cute.

  When I spent the next hour flipping through the works, though, I was kind of horrified. All of these were essentially hardcore military training manuals, listing how often dragons should fly, chase after targets, scan an environment for threats, search for any lost kin, and teach all these same procedures to any new recruits. When I read closer into the feeding and care of dragons, that’s when I was even more disturbed. There wasn’t any reference to recreational activities or spiritual fulfillment. On top of that, every dish was a one-ingredient gruel that was designed for a single purpose, such as preparing for battle.

  No wonder the dragons rebelled and dovetailed into a nasty depression. I would, too!

  “That settles it,” I announced to Aurelius. “We’re going to have a proper brunch. I’ll be a real personal chef, nothing generic or uninspired! Seems fitting since I had to lose my lunch period over this, yeah?”

  Even in his suspicious mood, Aurelius let out a hearty, supportive bark. I nodded and set to work. Heading back over to the dozing dragons, I focused on any type of energetic or auric read I could pick up on.

  Eventually, I was able to piece together enough intel to cook up a vibrant banquet fitting for how exquisitely unique these beings were. By tapping into my empathic magic, I experimented with dream-scrying for the first time in my enchanted career. I’d only reviewed the theory of this practice in one of my classes, but I was glad I was able to apply it in this situation. Otherwise, I had no idea how else I’d be able to connect with the apathetic creatures. Thankfully, a detect identity charm let me learn each dragon’s name. That made it much easier to prepare meals they would actually like.

  The six dragons that were now in my care were Grizzess, Xute, Mairvym, Kerot, Zesy, and Urve. Grizzess considered himself the “Lord of Yellow” and was the biggest optimist of the bunch. I decided to prepare him a very bright dish, one that would spark his hope and make him feel effervescent. For him, I created a bowl full of ginger beer and a large platter of chicken topped with a zested lemon relish.

  Xute, on the other hand, called herself the “Stubborn” and wasn’t easily swayed by picture-perfect fantasies or pretty promises. She needed to be slowly won over, so I gave her a multilayered treat with a time-release spell. This picky dragon was provided a cake that seemed to start off as run-of-the-mill chocolate but led to a splash of cayenne that tickled the senses by the end.

  Mairvym gave himself the title of “Champion of the Skies” and favored light food that wouldn’t weigh him down, as soaring without any other aim in mind was his greatest joy. I fixed him up with peppered salmon, knowing that it was enough to charge bears up without sitting like a rock in the stomach.

  Kerot, the “Lady of the Green,” was the most tender-hearted of the bunch and ached at the very thought of eating meat, even if it was artificial. I appealed to her desire for comfort food and compassion by gifting her a casserole boat filled with baked vegetables.

  Urve was the youngest of the bunch and had so much energy that he ran himself ragged from goofing off. Or, he did before the lot of these dragons gave up on life. I chose to concoct a special banana bread steel-cut oatmeal to fill him up while feeding his concentration.

  Last, but definitely not least, was Zesy, “Champion of the Dragons.” At first, I thought that was a pretty bold title, maybe the sign of a big ego, but my dream-scrying told me otherwise. All the other dragons truly did see her as their leader due to her quick thinking and wisdom. For her, I prepared a whole roasted crane and fennel bread, a dish cooked only for queens in the ancient days of Lemuria.

  The medley of fragrant scents finally stirred the dragons from their dreary, comatose states. They didn’t even seem to notice that I existed and instead went straight to their respective meals. I was amazed that I had pulled off my dream-scrying so well and that my hunches we
re strong enough to satisfy all of them on my first try. I was fully prepared to start from scratch if I needed to.

  No one deserved the lifestyle they were left to, after all.

  The dragons and I weren’t able to speak to one another in the traditional sense. Just like Aurelius and I, we had to communicate telepathically, though the images and messages were a bit scattered. They were grateful for the meal, that emotion was almost overwhelming, and once they had ravenously devoured all of it, I used a replication spell to conjure up a new round. This time around, they actually took their time to savor their offerings.

  Right when I was about to approach the dragons and strike up a more in-depth conversation, a snobby-looking mage with a bird-like nose, thin lips, and beady eyes that gleamed with judgment shuffled onto the scene. I wondered how he’d gotten in, and I studied his robe. It was a style cut from black cloth and trimmed in azure blue. This declared that he was a student employed by Bouclier with some special status. I squinted while Aurelius snarled in annoyance, and I noticed a badge with a dire eagle at the center.

  Ah, he was a hall monitor.

  “Halt!” the monitor cried out like a Monty Python knight. I had to fight myself not to roll my eyes. “Who has given you permission to be in this hallowed courtyard? You are not on my sanctified list! And what have you fed them? This is not their Bouclier issued regimen! I’ll need to report you at once for truancy, meddling with dragons, and restricted culinary magic!”

  I politely held my hand up to put a stop to all his sniping. It must’ve been pretty sad to have some boring role like hall monitor, the type of job that someone signed up for because there was no other way to make a splash in Bouclier. Even though they could be regular tyrants in the standard halls themselves, they didn’t usually have the authority to go wandering into off-limits, protected regions. If the headmaster gave me his approval, that should’ve been enough for me to be left alone.