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

by Melody Rose

  “Gee, thanks for the compliment,” Damian replied. I couldn't tell if he was sarcastic or sincere. I remained silent, thinking it was best to not say anything clumsy that would discourage him from speaking.

  “At any rate,” Damian continued. “As soon as I laid eyes on Joan MacKenna, I knew she was good-hearted. That type of energetic read isn’t difficult when you’re in the middle of a forest swarming with malicious or mischievous entities. At least, not for somebody like me. Somebody… so talented.”

  I thought I saw him wink and smirk in the candlelight, making light of my misguided comment.

  “On top of that,” the dark-haired mage remarked as Bast swooped down and landed on his hand. He petted her gently as she cooed with appreciation. “All the beasts who’ve ever crossed paths with her believe that, too. Huh? Isn’t that right, Bast?”

  The bat made a series of high-pitched screeches that I couldn’t make any sense of.

  “Hear that? She’s saying she agrees. You see, Bast has been shapeshifting in order to learn more about these strange little rumors going about. My little bat is even able to take on the form of a dragon,” he explained. “And not a single one of those noble creatures think Joan has an ounce of evil in her spirit.”

  “And you know what else?” Damian asked almost rhetorically. I was startled by how assertive his question sounded. I also noticed that his brown eyes had suddenly gone completely white. The Sight was upon this young mage. I was amazed, as I had never witnessed its presence in anyone other than my father. Even then, it was in rare spurts.

  “Yes…?” I asked with cautious reverence.

  “I have been having visions. I think you can see the truth in my eyes, yes?” he probed, and I nodded. “I strongly believe that Mademoiselle Joan MacKenna is the One to bring order to this land again.”

  I didn’t know what to think, but that didn’t mean I was dismissive of this claim. I was transfixed, in awe of what he was saying and fascinated by every word. I sensed that I would be gravely remiss if I ignored even one utterance of this precocious prophet.

  “She cannot breathe life into that calling, however, unless the wolf in sheep’s clothing is banished,” Damian advised. “Learn who is truly of the Abyss, Theodore, and who erred in giving this demon a chance. At once!”

  Without answering him, I was compelled to turn on my heel and race away from the forest, toward my room. This instinct was so primal, so unthinking, that I didn’t even have the common sense to teleport myself. I was akin to a young boy returning home. I needed to write, then gather all my notes at once. Surely, once I had compiled all the evidence, my father would see who the real villain was.

  29

  Theo

  “So,” a mysterious sorceress’ voice taunted me when I closed the door behind me, “you think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Tender-hearted little Theodore, off to save the lamb’s blood in distress. Well, I assure you, young lad, I have quite a few tricks up my sleeve yet.”

  When I took another step forward to apprehend her, I felt steel on my throat. I gritted my teeth in anger, fixing her with a defiant stare. I didn’t care if Serafina thought she could kill me. So be it if she were stupid enough to try that. It would only clear Joan’s name if this infernal creature’s energetic signature was found in my quarters with my corpse. As suspicious as some were of Joan, she wasn’t an advanced enough mage to break through wards that multiple guilds of third party mazes had created.

  If I were to die, I thought as I sensed my will strengthen, then I could free Joan and incriminate Serafina. If I pass, I can reunite with Mother again, and I am certain my beloved will call upon my spirit when she needs me. First, though, may I fight with honor.

  I gripped Serafina’s wrists with a crushing force, channeling a great deal of will into breaking the bones. I had not even a shred of mercy for the villainess who had conspired against mon tresor. The sorceress cried out in pain and stumbled backward, but I hadn’t exerted nearly as much brutality as I should have. Nothing was shattered, as she was an advanced mage of many more years than me. Instead, her pale skin merely bore unsightly purple bruises.

  She still held onto her dagger, her eyes glowing red with rage as she paused for a brief moment to perform a healing incantation. It was so quick I couldn’t even decipher her words, but she must have been successful. Her face was no longer contorted in pain, and she appeared ready to wield her blade with fervor. Oddly enough, the marks on her wrists remained. Perhaps, for once, she couldn’t be bothered with aesthetics.

  I hissed at Rumel, aware that this battle would escalate. I didn’t want this crazed sorceress harming the kitten, and thankfully the familiar understood my cue and rushed out the open door. I wondered what would become of her, and suddenly, I felted rather idiotic asking for a whole floor to myself. Now, there was no one but myself to come to my rescue.

  I pleased that Serafina took no notice of Rumel at all and only advanced toward me, murderous intent plain in her eyes. I rushed her first, utilizing a dexterity buffer to run forward and deliver a cutting blow to her forearm with the side of my hand. The sorceress gasped in agonized shock and dropped the dagger. In one fluid motion, I snatched it with precision while it was still in mid-air.

  “Verrouillez-moi ce poignard!” I cried out my incantation. “Lock this dagger to me!”

  I wanted to avoid a tedious scuffle, as surely we would struggle all evening over the dagger if I didn’t take this precaution. Surprisingly, Serafina just laughed and revealed her true form. Just as I had suspected, she was an infernal creature in disguise. A succubus, to be exact, just as Nascha was. Her flesh was a deep maroon, grotesque when contrasted with her pristine white robe, and her eyes were so empty they were cavernous. Her horns were even larger than Nascha’s, spiraled and embedded with dark jewels as though she fancied herself as royalty. Sickeningly, she began tearing at herself with the sharp talons she possessed. Instead of running, I stood, staring in awe.

  “You idiot boy,” she berated me. “Did you really think I was stupid enough to attract attention by slaying the headmaster’s son? That dagger is laced with your energetic signature now. Thank you for doing the honors of locking it to you.”

  I furrowed my brow and squeezed the hilt of the dagger. Of course, it wouldn’t have been this easy.

  “And now! Look at poor Serafina.” As Serafina explained her strategy, a horde of ravens began pounding on my bedroom window. I wondered if this was another one of her parlor tricks. “She’s only trying to help.”

  Finally, the black birds of prey were successful in shattering the window. They circled above Serafina, who hadn’t yet regarded them as she was so focused on mocking me. She shifted back to her astral disguise and now looked to be a pitiful tow-headed woman who had been horribly assaulted. Her hair was disheveled, her dress crumpled and bloody, her wrists bruised, and her body covered with nasty, scarlet gashes.

  “And yet…” the wretched thespian continued the act. “Young Theo didn’t believe in the goodness of her heart and attempted to rob Serafina of her life. Not to worry, he will likely be spared if he realizes the error of his ways. One would be unwise to turn down royal blood, after all.”

  “Only…” The ravens continued to hover over Serafina, their circuitous motion quickening as the succubus grinned sadistically. “We will have to do away with that treasonous lamb’s blood ‘Beast Tamer’ who seduced the headmaster’s son out of his good senses! It’s the only way to restore order to Bouclier!”

  I truly wanted to slit her throat on the spot, but instead, I was forced to restrain myself. She was right, after all. This looked awfully compromising and continuing to defend myself would only paint me as a murderer. Initially, my only intent was to disarm her.

  “Oh! Look at the time!” the new dean giggled and tossed her tangled ringlets. “I really must be going now! After all, I’ve narrowly escaped with my life. Until next time, foolish one!”

  With that final insult, Serafina disappeare
d in a blast of black smoke, the same color of the ravens once overhead. The lot of them were seemingly pulled into the teleportation spell with her. I snarled and disabled my incantation, tossing the dagger away with disdain.

  Come what may, I would wait out the evening, and any other ones that transpired, with Joan. Even if that meant following her to the gallows. Lemurian justice was a strange, ruthless force. If it wouldn’t spare my beloved, then I would relinquish myself as well.

  30

  Becks

  “Everyone dumb enough to believe the rumors are going to have to perform a hardcore muffling spell to take a test through all that racket,” I said, hugging my knees to my chest. I was obviously referring to the howls of dragons that didn’t give up since Joan’s trial was made publicly official. I was pretty sure they were protesting the incrimination of their compassionate tamer. I don’t know how anyone could concentrate on their studies with all of that, not to mention the latent guilt they should’ve felt in not defending an innocent woman.

  Joan’s bedroom had turned into the premier hub for civil and academic disobedience. Even though the suite was massive, it still wasn’t made to accommodate everyone in it. The entire Arcane Combat and Contests team was here, along with the “primrose posse,” formerly headed by Lydia but now consisting of Kara, the fiery valkyrie, Azalea, the purple-haired faerie, and Evvie, the demure dryad. There was a healthy smattering of a bunch of other mages too, all of them too bright to drink the Kool-aid of Serafina’s smear campaign.

  Joan, the big-hearted witch that she was, had a banquet laid out for everyone, a real continental buffet that represented the best civvie dishes imaginable. Hardly anyone had the enthusiasm to partake, though, except to eat a couple spoonfuls out of politeness. We were all broken-spirited over the news that Joan was going on trial tomorrow. This was unprecedented since nothing out of the ordinary really happened before a human started attending. We’d all heard horror stories about ancient Bouclier tradition, though, and we knew that some sentences could end in death.

  “Thank you, everyone, for staying here today,” Joan said weakly but with a sincere smile. “You didn’t have to skip finals for me. That’s a lot of spell points to sacrifice.”

  Despite her kind words, we could see how spiritually fatigued she was. Her skin was deathly pale, colored only by the grey circles under her eyes. Theo was beyond words, almost paralyzed. He never left Joan’s side, though, and usually always had his arm snaked around her. It was as though he was afraid she’d just float away. It would’ve been sweet if this hadn’t turned into a real Romeo and Juliet tragedy. I don’t think I’d seen them leave the bed during the entire time we were here.

  “Don’t even sweat it,” I replied. “Who the hell cares about spell points when Bouclier has turned out to be such a sham? I wouldn’t dream of leaving your side. Defending you is all that matters to us. We have a solid case for you and against Serafina. If the headmaster has any sense, he won’t let that nasty demon get away with this.”

  Theo mechanically nodded in agreement, not even offended that I was bad-mouthing his family establishment.

  Kara chimed in, her wings beginning to unfurl in agitation. “That’s right, Joan. Anyone who’s taking their finals instead of supporting you is going to regret being on the wrong side of justice. I’ll make sure they never hear the end of it.”

  Nate leaned against my shoulder, and I stroked his shaved head in consolation. Like Theo, he was simply too horrified about how warped this all was to speak. Fey herself was also rendered speechless, obsessively reading through all the notes we’d compiled. Kyo was the brave mage-athlete to speak up.

  “Try to get some sleep, Joan,” he said. “We’ll hold a vigil to call upon all the deities that believe in fairness and order. We’re all going to watch over you.”

  Joan looked like she was going to be sick, but she mutely agreed to try to curled into a fetal position as Theo stroked her hair.

  I watched helplessly, amazed that they have gone so far together only for life to come to this.

  31

  Joan

  “… and that’s when I truly feared for my life, though I refused to fight back,” Serafina, gussied up to play the perfect angel in a high-collared, white robe melodramatically explained. Her sleeves were cuffed up to expose the scabbed over cuts and still-bruised wrists. “Not only would I never harm another student, but I also had reason to believe he was in his right mind. He’s been so smitten over Lady MacKenna that he can’t truly be expected to answer for his actions.”

  I balled my manacled hands in fists as I listened to Serafina’s ludicrous story. Since I had nothing to lose, except maybe my life, I rolled my eyes openly at her wounded dove act. Every other witness so far had been honest. That is, if you didn’t count all the conniving succubus’ lackeys, a bunch of phony hall monitors feeding everyone red herrings. They griped about how I seemed too “close” to the dragons, even getting access to touch them. Apparently, this was a hallmark of a cruel hypnotist who earned misguided trust, according to them. They also mentioned how often I was found in the kitchen labs, constantly concocting brews and elixirs. Well, duh. I was the Arcane Combat and Contest team’s official culinary witch.

  Even Lydia, who was pulled out from the cellar as a star witness to my possible brutality, maintained that I was innocent. She didn’t exactly sing my praises since she was still resentful for being locked up, but she did admit our feud was all sparked from an overreaction on her part. The raven-locked beauty even confessed that I did all that I could not to resort to violence. Instead, I melted all her weaponry in self-defense.

  Finally, it was Theo’s turn to take the “stand.” Instead of a human court, though, where witnesses sat behind booths, mages were offered stately thrones and weren’t disarmed by any guards. As he lowered himself to address the jury, he appeared both stoic and stressed. My heart ached for how far he was willing to go for me. I almost felt guilty that he ended up getting tied up with me, then dragged into this nonsense. The astral guardian questioner, a four-winged man with long silver hair and dressed in full plate mail embedded with topazes, stepped forward to begin interrogating Theo. I thought I noticed this ethereal being studying Serafina with intense scrutiny, so maybe he wouldn’t turn out to be totally gullible.

  “Theodore Von Brandt,” he began in a passionless voice, “what is the nature of your relationship with Joan MacKenna?”

  Theo responded without hesitation. “She is my companion. My paramour. We have been committed to one another for around two-and-a-half years.”

  The questioner, Chamuel, didn’t nod or react. He simply went on with his inquiries.

  “And why did you bring Joan, a human, to Lemuria? What then drew you to her? Your peers have noted that the two of you had a troubled relationship in her first semester here. What changed?”

  Theo smirked, awash with nostalgia. “I brought her here based on the beseeching of my father, even though I was awfully dubious, myself. He was insistent that his detection spell had located the next greatest Beast Tamer, who need only be cultivated. I agreed to collect her, with the understanding that I would make decisions in Bouclier if she turned out to be a disaster...”

  Chamuel interrupted him, and the answers to the previous questions, honing in on Theo’s apparent ambition

  “Had you always wished to take over Bouclier? Was this your intent?”

  “Yes,” Theo responded without sugarcoating it. “I thought myself the wisest mage in the whole academy and thought I would be better equipped to shepherd Bouclier on the right path. I also considered my father a blithering fool. Over the years, however, I have softened, you can say. I learned that I can sometimes be mistaken…”

  The astral guardian laced his fingers together and paused, as though calculating all the previous details to form a new question.

  “Mistaken?” he probed. “Were you ever mistaken in your estimations of Joan MacKenna?”

  Theo’s seemed to tear up, a
nd then he nodded slowly. “Yes, yes, I have. For one,” he explained, “my father likely does possess the Sight and has such a potent gift that there are those who, in bad faith, attempt to rob him of it. His inclinations about Joan have proven to be true. She has proven to be the epitome of empathy and resilience. The ideal culinary witch and Beast Tamer. Moreover, she is more than worthy of Bouclier.”

  Chamuel remained immune to Theo’s sincerity, while I was silently swooning in my shackles.

  “Is this why you found it within reason to assault Serafina?” the silver-haired questioner pressed Theo, his voice flat and robotic. “Were you concerned that she would interfere with Joan’s ascent as a powerful spellcaster on her way to greater influence?”

  Theo gave a hard, humorless laugh at that accusation. He fixed Chamuel with a confident stare that shifted to a livid one when he shifted his eyes to Serafina.

  “Not in the least,” my blond beloved shot back. “Joan is a phenomenal witch precisely because she is not drunk on visions of power or authority. She merely seeks to help others, either with a nourishing meal or soothing words. I only intended to launch a thorough investigation centered on Serafina to expose any conspiracy against both Nascha and Lady MacKenna.”

  The fiery, azure-eyed warlock then gestured toward Serafina with disdain. “And all those nicks and cuts? All self-imposed to play the victim,” he stated, unconcerned with how bold the claim may seem to the jury. “As for the bruises, those are my doing. In self-defense, of course. She was brandishing a dagger at me.”