Magical Arts Academy: Books 9-13 (Magical Arts Academy Omnibus)

by Lucia Ashta

  “I’m sure she’s not any happier than you are about forgetting who she is every few seconds.” Nando squared his shoulders to face Gertrude, who immediately opened her mouth to retort.

  She didn’t get the chance. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Albacus started. “But I even missed the squabbles.”

  Gertrude returned her attention to Albacus, seemingly forgetting her annoyance with Nando and me. She brought her hands to her hips and swung her long red braid across her unoccupied shoulder. “It looks as though it’s going to be a pickle getting you out of here.”

  “You can see him?” I asked.

  Gertrude ignored me, squeezing in front of Nando to study the spirit who was currently not just stuck between worlds, but stuck in a wall.

  “Can you see him too?” I whispered to Nando, leaning over his shoulder.

  He nodded.

  “But you can’t see the others?”

  “No, I can only see Albacus. Why is that?”

  I wasn’t sure who exactly he was asking, but Albacus answered. “Over the centuries of my life, I’d learned to control my energy body quite well. It’s one of the reasons I survived as long as I did. Once I died, it wasn’t a stretch to learn how to control my non-physical form.” He spoke matter-of-factly, but I sensed a deep sorrow behind his words. “I can make myself visible to anyone I choose—well, so long as they’re open to seeing me, I suppose. I can also make myself invisible.”

  I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, he was gone. “Where’d he go?” I asked, unable to hide my shock or panic.

  I blinked again, and he reappeared exactly where he’d been before.

  The little owl craned his neck. “Lord Albacus, I can’t express how wonderful it is to see you again. You’ve been sorely missed.”

  Albacus’ ghost smiled, and the gesture almost reached his eyes, which, despite their translucence, retained a twinkle I associated with mischievous tendencies. “It’s good to see you too, Sir Lancelot. I didn’t think I’d see your face again. It’s a sight for sore eyes. You too, Gertrude.”

  Gertrude smiled nervously. “We’ve been looking for you a long time.” She stopped pacing the small area in front of him. “Mordecai has gone nearly mad searching for you.”

  “Mordecai? He’s here?”

  I tried to figure out what Albacus’ new expression meant, but I didn’t manage it. Was he relieved, afraid, or concerned? Perhaps he was all of those.

  “Lord Mordecai is most definitely here,” Sir Lancelot said. “And he’ll be one very happy wizard when he sees you.” The owl tilted his head to one side. With his large eyes, the expression was comical, although I realized the owl hadn’t meant it to be. “He certainly could be happier though, considering we’re all trapped inside the castle with you.”

  Albacus grew so upset that he flickered in and out of our world for several moments before stabilizing again. “My brother is trapped here?” His mouth settled into a grim line.

  “We all are,” Gertrude said.

  “Who’s here?”

  Gertrude blew out a sigh. “A whole lot of us. Everyone from the academy, actually.”

  “Did my brother manage to recruit more people after Maurisse took me? Last I saw, we were in the middle of recruiting these two.” He signaled Nando and me with a flick of his bearded chin.

  I recognized Albacus when I saw him, but I didn’t exactly remember him—or being recruited, for that matter.

  “More arrived after us,” Nando said.

  “How many people are here?”

  Nando deferred to Gertrude. “I don’t really know. I never counted. Sir Lancelot?”

  “Well, there’s Lord Mordecai obviously. Then there are Lord Marcelo and Lady Clara of Bundry and Irele, and Lady Arianne and Lord Gustave of Acquaine.”

  “Skip the titles, Sir Lancelot,” Albacus said. “We need to hurry.”

  “Very well. Only because you ask it of me, if not I’d never presume to be so improper.” The owl brought his wings forward to count the members of the academy off, just as a person would with their fingers. “We have the two vampires, Vladimir and Priscilla, and Marcus and the eight hellhounds, along with Prudence, who won’t stop sobbing into his shirt. We have Sylvia and Mathieu, because as you know they won’t let Mordecai and Arianne go anywhere without them. Then there are Trevor and Delilah, and their three children, Simon, Angelica, and Nicholas. There’s Brave, of course, because our Gertrude here wouldn’t go anywhere without him.”

  “That’s not true,” Gertrude protested, but even I ignored her.

  “There are Marie and Walt, new student recruits, and Grand Witch Giselle Tillsdale has joined us as well.”

  Albacus’ bushy eyebrows dashed upward on his forehead. “Giselle is here?”

  “She is.”

  “Finally, some good news. Is that it? Please tell me that’s it.”

  “I fear that I cannot, Lord Albacus. There are also a dozen firedrakes, including Elwin here, and that rogue of a dragon Humbert is here as well.”

  “Even Humbert is here? How did he even get inside the castle? He’s quite large.”

  “The brute is indeed large, but I can’t describe how he got in here since I arrived with the second wave of attack. From what your brother tells us, all of them, including the dragon, were lured inside by an illusion. Duke Maurisse led them to believe the others were in danger.”

  “That sounds like exactly what Maurisse would do,” the male magician who hovered around Ama said.

  “You would know, dear Malachai,” Albacus said. “Maurisse treated you quite terribly, there’s no doubt about that.”

  “Which spirit is he talking to?” Nando whispered to me.

  “The one who’s with Ama. The one who told us about Albacus.” I couldn’t help but notice that my replies were coming more easily, and I was managing to maintain my focus. Was it because with everyone around me talking there was no chance to distract myself?

  Nando said, “Malachai told us that he remembers the spell that Maurisse cast, the one that killed him and is trying to do away with us as well.”

  “You do?” Albacus asked Malachai.

  “I’ll never forget what that rat did to me, not any bit of it.”

  “You remember every word then?”

  “Every single one.”

  “Excellent.” Albacus looked back to us; his gaze rested on me. “How long have you been inside the castle? How far has the curse advanced?”

  “I’m definitely not the one to ask,” I said.

  “She’s right,” Nando said. “She’s become very... forgetful since we arrived.”

  While Albacus nodded knowingly, Gertrude said, sotto voce, “That’s the understatement of the century.”

  I thought she’d insulted me, but I couldn’t figure out if I should be offended or not. Then I forgot what I was wondering and tuned back into the conversation.

  Gertrude went on to say, “Grand-mère and Great Uncle Gustave aren’t faring too well, and Madame Pimlish is in really bad shape, crying like all hope is already lost.”

  “That would make sense,” Albacus said. “Her skill is extremely concentrated in the area of transformations, which means her power is focused in one region and unable to better withstand the effects of the curse.”

  “That’s what Mordecai said.”

  “My brother and I always did think alike.” Albacus snapped his head upward. “But don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Gertrude grinned, suddenly looking a bit like the cat who ate the canary.

  “How long have you been inside?”

  Gertrude shrugged and looked to Nando. He consulted his pocket watch. “The others have been inside for about three-and-a-half hours. The rest of us for a little over one.”

  “Hmm. That’s not good, not good at all. We have to get moving.”

  “Uh,” I said, and everyone turned expectantly toward me. With the focused attention of people, creat
ures, and spirits, I flustered and forgot what I was thinking.

  “What is it, child?” Albacus asked somewhat impatiently. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”

  What did I have to say? What was it? Where was my internal voice when I needed it, anyway?

  One more look at Albacus reminded me in a flash. “Well, you’re stuck inside of a wall at the moment. Is that something... intentional?”

  “Why on earth would I put myself inside a wall intentionally? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I had no doubt that wasn’t the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. After all, I’d seen enough ridiculous and over-the-top things to last me several centuries in just the short time since I joined the academy. Since he’d lived more than three-hundred years, he was clearly exaggerating.

  I smiled at him—because I was on to him (at least my muddled mind believed it then). “Are you able to remove yourself from the wall then?”

  Nando, Gertrude, and even Sir Lancelot and Elwin, with his long, dragon-like face, waited for the ghost’s answer. I’d known it was a good question! After all, his entire right arm, half of his right leg, and a sliver of his body from hip to shoulder were invisible behind dank, gray stone.

  Albacus just stared for a few moments. He looked angry—no, determined—and I couldn’t figure out exactly why. Finally, he said, “Of course I can. I’ve studied magic, communed with the elements, and become a master of managing energy. I can surely pull myself out of something as simple as a wall.”

  All of us, including Ama and Malachai, waited for him to do it.

  His mouth twisted into a grimace of effort, and if he’d been alive, I would’ve expected sweat to bead up on his forehead. “Well? Don’t stare at me like that. How do you expect me to do it if I can’t concentrate? It’s not like I’ve done this before.”

  “You’ve never ended up in a wall before?” I asked without considering the wisdom of my question.

  “No,” he growled.

  Should I ask? Probably not, but I did anyway. “How did you end up in the wall this time?”

  Everyone was listening attentively. I hadn’t been the only curious one.

  “I just... miscalculated a little.”

  Being stuck in a stone wall seemed like more than a little miscalculation to me, but what did I know? He was the expert at all this stuff, while I was just the one who stumbled into magic by accident.

  “How, exactly, did you miscalculate this?” Gertrude asked, and I was glad it had been her and not me.

  “Hey, what I’m doing here hasn’t been done before that I know of. I’m navigating between different worlds. I was coming back from this... other place, and I was picturing the dungeon to return where I wanted.” He went to fold his one free arm across his chest, discovered it was awkward with the other half of him unusable, and let the hand drop to the side of his robes. “I missed by a foot, that’s not that much.”

  It might not be much, but it was clearly enough to be a serious problem.

  “I can get myself out of it if you’ll all stop staring at me.”

  “What? I thought you thrived under pressure,” Malachai teased, suggesting they’d known each other when alive. “You always used to love showing up everyone else.”

  “That’s not true at all. I only ever liked to show up Mordecai. Someone had to keep him from getting a big head.”

  Malachai laughed, and had I not been looking at him and his obvious translucency, I would’ve thought he was alive from the rich sound of it. “You two did like to go at each other like children.”

  “Hey! I might take offense to that, and you don’t want to be on my bad side.”

  “What are they saying?” Nando asked.

  “Nothing important,” I said, mostly because I didn’t want to miss the rest of the conversation while relaying.

  Malachai put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender, which apparently continued to work even in death. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, though his grin belied his true intentions. “You always used to be up for good-natured ribbing.”

  “That was before my brother came here, to save me I presume”—he locked eyes with Gertrude, who nodded—“and brought all these other magicians with him. We have no time for ribbing. They’ve already been under the curse long enough to cause serious problems. How long was it before the spell killed you?”

  “Seven hours, maybe eight,” Malachai said. “It was hard to keep track. I nearly lost my mind under the effects of it.”

  I gulped.

  “What is it?” Nando asked.

  “Nothing. We have to hurry.”

  “That we do,” Albacus said. “We’re nearly out of time. Everyone, turn around. Let me focus.”

  I really wanted to see how he was going to extricate himself from the wall, but I wanted all of us to survive more. We all turned at his command.

  An entire minute and a half passed before a loud slurping, suctioning sound disturbed the stuffy silence of the dungeon.

  I was wondering whether I should look when Albacus popped in front of Nando and me. I squealed, then immediately tried to subdue my reaction. Elwin looked like he was chuckling at me—if a firedrake could chuckle, that is. He squinted his red eyes in amusement.

  “Come on,” Albacus said. “Take me to my brother.”

  “I’ll lead the way,” Gertrude said and tapped Sir Lancelot on the back. When he flew off, she morphed into a ginger tabby cat right in front of my eyes.

  Before I could process how amazing Gertrude and her transformation ability was—I mean, she’d been a girl one moment, a cat the next! Poof!—Albacus, along with a kaleidoscope of patterned lights that circled around him in non-stop motion, raced behind her, hovering above the floor.

  Elwin forewent his awkward waddling gait, stretched his wings, and followed Sir Lancelot in flight.

  Nando clutched my hand and took off running, calling out “Keep up” as he went. I set my feet into motion, training my eyes on the hundreds of spirits that followed along with us, illuminating the way.

  At least no one was counting on me to do it, I thought. Then lucidity faded again, and all I could manage was to keep my feet moving in the right direction without stumbling.

  One thing at a time, Isa. Just focus on one thing at a time.

  I didn’t manage much focus, but I did manage to make it back to the others without tripping.

  And that was the only good news of the moment.

  Things were worse than when we’d left—far worse.

  Chapter 7

  It took a long while for the others to notice our arrival, despite the fact that the scattered torches illuminated us, and that those less affected by the curse must have been anticipating our return. I didn’t blame them for not spotting us, however. I barely noticed much of anything beyond Madame Pimlish’s despondent wailing. She blubbered into Wizard Meedles’ shirt, which was wet in big, uneven patches. Both of his thick arms wrapped around the much shorter woman, but even so, she wasn’t calming.

  Why was she crying like this? I couldn’t remember!

  The area we’d entered was so large that I couldn’t make out its borders. But the enormous, dark, smelly space wasn’t what was making me want to crawl out of my skin.

  The energy here was frenetic. Creatures whimpered, magicians cried and shook in fear, and others paced with a nervousness that was so intense that I had to resist the urge to brush it off.

  I wanted to leave this place like I couldn’t remember ever wanting to leave another place before. I wanted to be free of this castle. Why couldn’t we just leave?

  That’s when Arianne whirled as she paced, set on walking the same path in the opposite direction, and noticed us. “You shouldn’t have come!” she cried, repeating Albacus’ earlier sentiment. “You should have spared yourselves, darlings. You should have run free.” She waved her arms about in front of her face in sweeping, theatrical movements.

  Though I coul
dn’t see every face in that area of the dungeon, I had no doubt that all of them alternated looking between Arianne and us.

  “Oh no!” Gustave said as Mordecai stood from where he’d been siting next to Grand Witch Tillsdale. “Why are they here?” Gustave continued, but we all ignored him, fixated on the exchange that was about to take place between the brothers.

  Mordecai advanced on Albacus, who stood completely still while his facial features trembled with deep emotion. If he hadn’t been translucent, his vivid reaction would have suggested him very much alive.

  Mordecai drew to a stop within arm’s reach of his brother. Tears budded at the corners of his eyes, and I wondered if they were for Albacus, or just another effect of Maurisse’s blasted spell. No, definitely for Albacus, I decided. Mordecai’s hands, which hung at his sides, clenched and unclenched into fists repeatedly. He was warring with the desire to hug his brother, I realized.

  My heart thudded in sympathy for the brothers who obviously longed to be together as they had been in life. We might have found Albacus, but he was still dead.

  “Albacus,” Mordecai whispered, the emotion in his voice carrying despite the volume of Madame Pimlish’s continued lamentation.

  The ghost swallowed visibly. “Mordecai. I-I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “I feared that too, brother.” Mordecai took half a step toward him, closing the distance between them. “I’m so relieved to see you.”

  “You shouldn’t have come here.” Albacus’ face, which was already impossibly sad, somehow grew sadder.

  “How could I not?”

  “Because I want you to live.” Albacus looked around the room, taking in how many of us had come to his rescue. “Because I want everyone to live. I died. That doesn’t mean everyone else has to.”

  “They wouldn’t let me come alone.”

  I pondered that statement for a bit. Had I been given a choice? I couldn’t recall. Would I have chosen something different had I been given the option? I wasn’t sure. I was beginning to forget not only my thoughts, but how I was—who I’d crafted myself into being. That was more alarming than forgetting anything else. If I didn’t remember how I usually viewed the world around me, then what was left of me?