Magical Arts Academy 9: Castle's Curse
Page 7
“Is it just me, or are we going down?” I whispered to Nando.
“We definitely started going down. It’s a ramp, an extremely long one from the looks of it. I think it’s used for the servants to bring carts and horses down for deliveries. It’s certainly wide enough, and that would explain why they didn’t use stairs.”
I hadn’t really been seeking an explanation of the ramp’s usage, but I was grateful for it anyway, because I sure couldn’t make out any of the details Nando was sharing. I was barely able to make out the outline of his broad shoulders in front of me.
“There should be torches lining the walls,” Brave grumbled from up ahead. “If only we could find one to light.”
“There are torches lining the walls. Can’t you see them?” Nando called out.
“No. I can’t see a darn thing.”
Umph. I plowed into Nando’s back, and half a second later Nicholas thumped into me. Ow. Apparently Brave had stopped moving and not warned the rest of the line.
“Where’s a torch? Can you really see? If so, hand me one.”
“Yeah, I can see.” Nando drew out the words, seeming as confused as I was that he was the only one who could make out the details of our pitch-black surroundings.
He left my side. “Here,” he said a few moments later.
“You weren’t kidding. You really can see.”
“Of course I can. What I don’t understand is why all of you can’t.”
“That’s a very good question,” Gertrude said, and I imagined the frown she wore when she was confused by something.
“Everyone just be quiet for a minute. Let me do this.” Then Brave launched right into a spell. Since it was so quiet, even at a whisper I heard every word.
“Fire element, source of all life,
you burn with power, you burn bright.
You hold the possibility of darkness and light,
but I call on you now to shine with the goodness within my heart.
Burst into flame, ignite this torch,
so that it may provide a constant light,
to illuminate this darkness, and help only, not hurt.
I give you my gratitude,
and with full respect, ask that you share your power with me in this way,
and in this very moment.”
In the same instant that Brave said the word moment, the torch he held in his left hand burst into flame.
I expected it to happen, yet it was still shocking. Unlike Madame Pimlish’s absurd spells, this one made sense, and made me all the more eager to learn something like this myself.
“This doesn’t look good,” Marie said, pulling me away from my amazement at the fire that wasn’t there one instant, but was the next.
I looked from the torch to the path ahead of us, blinking away the lingering spots of light in my vision.
The ramp converted into a tunnel. It was dark and appeared to have no end. And it led us straight into the bowels of Maurisse’s castle. It might as well have had a sign that spelled out TRAP THIS WAY in big, scrawling letters.
There was no way I wanted to take a single step further down this tunnel.
“Come on,” Gertrude said. “We have to hurry. With the light, we can run.”
Before any of us had a chance to formulate a complaint, Gertrude tore down the ramp. An instant later, Brave ran after her, taking our only source of light with him.
My mind said, “Stay right where you are. Don’t take a single step toward the pit of terrible darkness. Go the opposite way.”
But my feet betrayed me. I followed the momentum of the group and tore after the bobbing light of the torch, grateful I didn’t have to worry about long skirts to get in my way for once.
I had the feeling that before the day was over, I’d be counting on every single advantage I could get, no matter how small. I feared the worst of it hadn’t even begun yet before I remembered I wasn’t allowed to be afraid.
I halfheartedly held the belief that we’d all get out of here in one piece... while I followed the tunnel’s never-ending spiral around and around, deeper into the pit of the earth.
Chapter 9
We’d been walking for so long that I modified my previous thought. We weren’t heading to the bowels of the castle; we were heading toward its clawed feet, where without a doubt we’d find Maurisse’s ample dungeons, into which not even a spark of hope dared travel.
Gertrude had stopped leading us downward at a run. I imagined she was also overcome with apprehension, and no matter how desperate she was to reach her family, the weight of whatever we were about to disrupt was enough to slow her pace.
No one spoke. Not even Sir Lancelot had anything to say about the situation. Like the condemned making their final walk to the gallows, our march was burdened.
Until a set of steps sounded out from below... running toward us.
I reached out with both hands, grabbing Nando wherever they landed, not daring to take my eyes from the path up ahead.
Something was coming for us. Likely several somethings.
I dug my nails into Nando’s back, but he didn’t complain. He clutched the hilt of his sword with both hands and held it out in front of us.
By unspoken agreement, we stopped walking entirely. Whatever was headed our way would reach us soon.
There was no point in retreating. We were trapped within the castle, enclosed in its eternal tunnel that sloped ever downward.
No, whatever was coming we’d have to face right here. This was where we’d make our stand.
My eyes widened with surprise as I noticed Marie and Walt’s hands begin to glow. Only then did I realize that they were mumbling a spell of some sort, and that Angelica was doing something similar.
Simon, whom I expected to be preparing to blow up whatever raced our way, didn’t glow anywhere. His lips were unmoving, and I took comfort only in the determined look upon his face.
Brave, in the front, managed to tuck Gertrude behind him with minimal complaint on her part. He held the torch in his left hand, his sword in his right, and trained his eyes at the spot where our attacker would pop up.
Nicholas, the ‘courageous one’, didn’t bother stepping out from the back of our line, convincing me he was all bluster and no bite. He didn’t even step forward to protect his younger siblings, though I’m sure he would say something ridiculous like he was keeping guard so nothing could attack us from behind.
I sucked in my breath so abruptly that I choked on my spit and succumbed to a coughing fit. No one bothered to shush me until I could calm my throat down.
Shadows edged across the curve of the stone walls, reaching toward us like the claws of death.
It was definitely a monster, a terrible, horrific monster of the sort I’d never heard of and certainly never seen.
The shadow was as long as it was tall, suggesting the monster occupied the entirety of the tunnel.
It’d flatten us into pancakes. We didn’t stand a chance.
The shadow grew and morphed, ever reaching for us.
Until... a hand holding a torch popped around the bend. Then an elegant arm, and a face I recognized, though I’d never seen it with this expression.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing until I let the air I’d been holding out in one big whoosh of relief.
It was Arianne, with Mathieu and Sylvia flying right behind her... making the three of them seem like one big monster.
I would have laughed that this possibility hadn’t even occurred to me, though we were in a castle that also housed our friends, but I didn’t feel like laughing—not even a little bit. One look at the expression on Arianne’s face told me we were in just as much trouble as if it had indeed been a monster the size of a troll, which after all I’d experienced I was willing to assume existed, barreling toward us.
Arianne, slightly winded from her run up the tunnel, took us all in, her face falling more with each one of us she studied. Mathieu and Sylvia had tucked their wings against t
heir bodies and landed right next to the red-headed grandmother. Absently, she reached to either side and petted the green and opalescent firedrakes, whose scales didn’t shimmer the way they usually did.
“Didn’t you hear Marcus’ warning?” she asked, her eyes finally settling on her granddaughter and Brave in the front.
“We did,” Brave said, “but by then we couldn’t leave. The door we entered wouldn’t open.”
She shook her head sadly. Strands of her red, wavy hair tumbled across her face, loose from their plaits. “That’s because it’s a trap. You shouldn’t have come. You should have remained outside like we told you to. Brave, I’m disappointed in you. You weren’t supposed to come unless we called for you.”
“I’m sorry I disappointed you. I made a mistake.”
My heart stung a little for Brave as he took the blame for what wasn’t really his fault. He’d tried to talk us out of doing this.
“It’s a mistake with a heavy price,” she said, and I felt bad for Brave all over again. Arianne usually worked to help others feel better, not worse. This was unexpected... and appalling. I’d never seen Arianne resigned and hopeless before.
“It’s not his fault,” Gertrude said. “It’s mine. I made him come.”
Arianne studied her granddaughter for several moments. “That I believe, but blame doesn’t much matter in the end, I don’t suppose. You’re in it with us now. Sir Lancelot, couldn’t you talk some sense into them? No, never mind,” she continued before the owl could answer. “Like I said, blame won’t help us now.”
“What will help us?” I asked, unable to control myself.
“A miracle.”
“What about magic?” To my untrained mind, magic was as much of a miracle as anything I’d ever encountered.
“Well, we’ll certainly do our best, but we have to hurry.”
“Why?” Nando asked.
“Because Maurisse put a spell into place that’s draining our power. Every minute that passes with us inside this place takes some of our magic.”
“I’ve never heard of something like that.” If Sir Lancelot hadn’t heard of it, then it probably hadn’t happened until now.
“Neither had we. That’s why the place is so quiet. It’s completely empty—except for us. Maurisse doesn’t expect any of us to get out of here alive. He’s going to kill us all and not even get his hands dirty.”
“Grand-mère, I think the spell might be doing more than drain your magic. I’ve never seen you this... glum.”
Arianne just shrugged, confirming Gertrude’s theory.
“We’ll get out of this. Our magic is still strong.”
“But largely untrained,” pessimistic Arianne interjected.
“No matter. Take us to the others and we’ll figure a way out of this. I’m sure of it.”
Grandmother and granddaughter shared a long look. I didn’t understand what passed between them, but Arianne finally nodded and turned to lead us into the dregs of the earth without further comment. Even Mathieu and Sylvia’s wings seemed droopy as we followed them.
“Everyone stay strong and uplifted,” Gertrude commanded. “The spell is obviously affecting emotions. No matter what any of our friends or family says to us, you have to remain hopeful. You have to believe that we’re going to get out of this alive... or there’s no chance we will.”
Gertrude’s pep talk didn’t motivate me as much as I wanted it to, but I committed to staying strong. Where there’s belief, there’s a way.
And now the task of getting teachers, protectors, and beasts out of here alive rested squarely on our ‘largely untrained’ shoulders. It was time to rise to the task... or die trying.
I squared my shoulders to what lay ahead, and continued to round the bends of the tunnel. At some point, it would end, and then the real fight for survival would begin.
Spirited Escape - Book 10
Continue Isadora’s adventures in book 10 of the 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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About the author
Lucía Ashta, a former attorney and architect, is an Argentinian-American author who lives in Sedona with her beloved and three daughters. She published her first story (about an unusual Cockatoo) at the age of eight, and she’s been at it ever since.
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