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Dragon Mage Academy

Page 15

by Cordelia Castel


  “What should we do?”

  “I’ll walk out happy with the dress and resign myself to marrying him.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I spoke over her. “I’ll do what I can to delay the ceremony, but you and Stafford have to sneak underground and get that gold to Master Jesper.”

  I was so energized by the new plan, I didn’t notice the pallor of Evolene’s skin until now. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I’m being selfish.”

  “No, what?”

  “It’s all I have left of Father.” She blinked, and two tears rolled down her cheeks. “He saved all that so we could have a better life, and…”

  My shoulders slumped. Donating a fortune in gold was easy for someone like me who could dip into the royal treasury or Father’s bottomless Bluebeard coffers. Not only was that treasure her last source of financial security, but it was her last connection to her father. I understood her reservations, but there were bigger issues at play.

  I placed both hands on her shoulders. “I have some money I can give you if you’re worried about survival. Also, speak to Master Jesper and ask him to calculate the minimum you can hand over. You’ll still have the gemstones and other valuables, but if the Forgotten King gets loose, no amount of gold will keep any of us safe.”

  “A-all right.”

  Moments later, Evolene removed the silencing enchantment and restored the curtain into a cloak, exposing me to the males in the room. I forced my hands to my sides and clenched my teeth. Being the center of attention made my insides churn. I shifted on my feet, shoulders curling into themselves.

  Stafford gaped.

  Master Fosco snorted and turned his head. He probably wished it was Aunt Cendrilla in this dress instead of me.

  King Magnar gasped. “Princess Alba, you are a vision.”

  “Stand up straight,” whispered Evolene.

  Pulling back my shoulders, I lifted my chin and met King Magnar’s gaze. His usually pinched features had melted into a mask of awe. The kind of expression a person would make when seeing a dragon perform an amazing feat. The unease in my stomach settled, and I exhaled a long breath. Since he was no longer glaring at Stafford or commanding Evolene, that had to be a good thing.

  Holding the leather fabric of my skirt in my clammy hands, I dipped into an awkward curtsey. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  His brows drew together. “Princess Alba?”

  “Yes?” I stretched my lips into what I hoped was a demure smile.

  “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the rest of the tournament?” He crossed the room and offered his arm.

  “W-what will happen to my friends?”

  He gave me a tight smile. “That depends entirely on your good behavior. I will hold them here for two days, after which, they may return to Master Jesper’s laboratory, where their movements and actions will be supervised, or if you misbehave, the whipping post.”

  In the corner of my eye, Evolene gave me a tight nod. Hopefully, she would be able to slip away to get her father’s gold.

  “All right.” I took his arm and walked out of the room.

  Ascending the stairs leading to the royal box was a strange kind of torture. Each step added an extra boulder of panic into my gut, and by the time I reached the door, I wanted to double over and vomit. The only thing keeping me upright was Evolene’s underground stash of gold and the hope that the cat had given Master Jesper the final ingredient for the antidote.

  King Magnar turned to me. “You will comport yourself like a consort befitting the monarch of the Savannah Empire. No last-minute tricks or attacks.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you being so obedient?”

  “You’ll hurt my friends if I do anything wrong.”

  His features fell, but he covered up the expression with a blank mask. I clenched my teeth. King Magnar was probably the type of person who hated to be reminded of his ill deeds.

  He pushed the door open to a round of cheers and applause so loud it made my bones rattle. A gust of cool wind chilled my sweat-dampened skin, giving me the jolt I needed to step inside.

  The royal box felt smaller than it had during the Academy’s opening ceremony, and the two golden thrones resembled devices of torture. With my leather bodice tightening around my ribcage, it took an eternity to reach the podium on King Magnar’s arm. My head spun, and I gulped mouthfuls of air.

  He picked up the speaking horn. “Warriors and dragons of Mount Fornax!”

  Applause filled the air.

  “I present to you Princess Alba of Steppe, my soon-to-be bride, and the future Warrior Queen of Dragons!”

  Silence.

  I swallowed hard. They were probably expecting an update on the treason or attempt to steal his crown, not an announcement of his upcoming wedding. And no amount of loyalty elixir could explain how I had suddenly appeared in the middle of a tournament within a territory under quarantine.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “A-after the Academy’s opening ceremony, Princess Alba decided to stay for private lessons. General Thornicroft, among others, taught her to connect with dragon magic, a-a-and after I rescued Princes Alba from rogue alchemists, she consented to be my bride.”

  I pursed my lips. What a garbled mess of lies and half-truths.

  The warriors in the arena burst into applause, even if the dragons did not.

  “They knew you were Princess Alba all along,” said Fyrian. “King Magnar’s story is confusing.”

  King Magnar turned to someone standing by the door. “Master Roopal, do you have the vows?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  It was like a bucket of ice water over the head. “W-we’re getting married now?”

  “There is no time like the present,” replied King Magnar.

  “What about the sword and bouquet?”

  “Master Solum?”

  The dark-skinned dragon master reached under his seat and pulled out a box. “You asked for flowers with dragon scales the color of flames?” He flipped open its lid and pulled out some familiar-looking flowers. “These dandedragons grow close to the lightning tree. I found a few tiny blooms to make up your bouquet.”

  I clenched my teeth. Fyrian and I had passed a clump of these flowers on the way to the poppy field. If I’d known they were made up of scales instead of petals, I would have asked her to burn them down.

  “Master Klauw?” asked King Magnar.

  The small, ginger-haired male stepped forward and presented a silver scimitar that reminded me of Father’s Sword of Lightning. “It contains slowsilver that turns a mage’s magic into cold sparks, sharp enough to cut through stone.”

  King Magnar’s lips curved into a smile. “Try it.”

  Nausea crashed against the boulders of my belly and splashed the back of my throat. Somehow, King Magnar had tricked his way into obtaining the three items needed for the damsel denial to force our marriage. Its pink energy pushed my shaking hand toward the hilt of the Slowsilver Sword. I closed my fingers around its handle and pointed its blade to the skies.

  A hush fell across the arena, and I cringed. Of course, they’d all be watching.

  The second I pushed my magic through the sword’s hilt, cold sparks jumped from its blade, lengthening and angling into what appeared to be lightning.

  Wild cheers and applause broke out. Even the dragons roared their approval.

  King Magnar raised my free arm like I was some kind of victor. With his free hand, he shouted into the speaking horn, “Given the immense power of my bride, I think you agree she should be my new Savannah Sky Commander. Let the wedding begin!”

  Master Roopal stepped forward.

  I stepped back, heart beating as fast as dragonfly wings. “C-can’t we wait until after the war for that sort of thing?”

  “With you sneaking about behind my back sabotaging my efforts?” said King Magnar.

  “I…” My throat closed u
p. “Father will kill you.”

  “And you, my soon-to-be obedient bride and champion, will protect me from his wrath.”

  I clenched the sword and raised my arm to point its blade at his throat, but the pink magic around my heart squeezed tight. My fingers straightened, and the sword dropped to the red carpet.

  “W-why?”

  “Because you are the key to winning this war. With the Warrior Queen of Dragons at my side, victory is mine.”

  My insides froze. If I didn’t go through with the wedding, the damsel denial magic would kill me. And if I said those terrible vows, I would become King Magnar’s slave forever. My head swam. Fyrian was under the influence of the loyalty elixir and incapable of saving me. My best friends were under observation and couldn’t reach me if they wanted. The only ally I had left was the flying cat, who was likely under a sentence to kill on sight.

  A pink, fiery fist clamped around my heart, making me gasp. Tears gathered in my eyes. Right now, there was nobody I would rather kill than King Magnar. A pulse of pain shot through my chest for the treacherous thought.

  “A-all right,” I said between gasping breaths. “I’ll marry you. I’ll repeat your vows of obedience.”

  A hush fell across the arena and muttering broke out. Something was happening. I glanced down and found a crowd of warriors gathered on the ground beneath the royal box, waving their arms.

  “Your Majesty!” shouted their leader. “We found her on a half-dead camelops!”

  They parted, revealing a small, blonde figure of about four and a half feet in height. She wore a leather cadet’s uniform with a long skirt.

  My gaze snapped to King Magnar, whose face had turned the color of diluted milk.

  He leaned against the railings, letting his crown drop off his head. “Piper!”

  Chapter 16

  A hush fell across the crowd. I clapped my hands over my mouth and stared down at the little girl. Her pigtails had unraveled, and dirt encrusted her face, but this was Piper, King Magnar’s youngest sister. The last I had heard of his four youngest sisters, they had accompanied King Magnar back to the Savannah Empire, and the spriggans had taken them captive as punishment for his failure to get the eggs.

  My throat dried. How in the Known World did she escape and how could she have reached Mount Fornax all alone?”

  “I have to get down there.” King Magnar bolted from the royal box.

  The guards and dragon masters rushed after him, and when the door slammed shut behind them, I glanced around for quick escapes. This was my opportunity to help create the antidote. No vicious, pink magic punished me for the thought, but my gaze turned back to the small figure lying on the ground. Maybe King Magnar’s sisters had learned something about the spriggans and sent Piper to share the vital information. Or they might have all tried to escape and all but her had perished.

  I rushed to the door, pushed it open, and hurried after the others. My plodding footsteps echoed on the stairwell, a far cry from the sweet pitter-patter of Princess’ feet. At the bottom of the staircase, I ran through the stone passageway and into the arena.

  The warriors stepped back a respectful distance from King Magnar’s sister, who clutched her hands to her chest and trembled. She carried no staff or weapon, making her journey across the drylands even more astounding.

  Up ahead, King Magnar skidded to a halt. “Piper?”

  “M-Maggie!” she raised her head, only to collapse again.

  King Magnar closed the distance, knelt, and scooped her up in his arms. “What happened to you?”

  As if reaching the safety of her brother’s arms had been her goal, the little girl’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she fell into a dead faint.

  “Healer. Now!” shouted King Magnar.

  A purple dragon appeared at his side.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he yelled. “She needs help, not a dragon ride!”

  I picked up my pace and pushed through the warriors. “This is the fastest route to the Healer’s Academy. Let me take her.”

  King Magnar hesitated before handing Piper over to me. I settled the girl on my hip and climbed onto the dragon’s front paw. After wrapping an arm around the dragon’s leg and securing a grip around a scale, I reached out and offered my hand to King Magnar. “Come with us.”

  He swallowed hard, climbed up onto the paw. “What happens next?”

  “Close your eyes, breathe deeply and hold on tight.” When I was sure he was settled, I shouted, “We’re ready.”

  The world around us twisted, and my stomach twisted in time with the displacement of air. By the time I’d completed a gasp, the purple dragon had taken us to the front lawn of the Healer’s Academy building.

  Piper whimpered, and I rubbed the girl on the back. “You’re safe now. It’s over. We’ll put you on a bed and get you something to drink.”

  King Magnar staggered off the dragon’s paw, doubled over and threw up on the grass. I rushed past him, through the double doors of the Healer’s Academy building and shouted, “Healer!”

  Nobody answered.

  Clutching Piper to my chest, I rushed through the hallway, peering through the doors. The wards that had previously held slumbering warriors stood empty, and in some, witches still lay sleeping in cots. I headed for the stairwell. The healers must all still be in the arena. As much as I hated to burden the troll, Master Jesper was my only hope.

  Descending the stairs two at a time, I hoped there would be someone in the laboratory. If anyone could work out what had happened to Piper, it would be Master Jesper, who unlike the male healers, had magic.

  I pushed the door open. Master Jesper crouched beside a bandaged Mr. Bacon. The alchemist sat up in his cot, sipping a meaty-smelling broth with a spoon.

  The troll’s eyes widened. “Whatever have you done to your—”

  “There’s no time to explain.” I set Piper down on one of the cots against the wall. “This is King Magnar’s sister. She’s somehow escaped the spriggans and travelled all the way here from the Savannah Empire. Can you check on her to make sure she’s not cursed or anything?”

  Master Jesper let out an exasperated breath. “If you insist.”

  I glared up at the troll and snapped, “There’s no one else to help her.”

  Master Jesper rose from Mr. Bacon’s bed and clomped across the laboratory.

  My lips pressed into a tight line. Of all the times to revert to its callous personality, why did it have to choose now? As I rose, I noticed all the extra markings on the walls. Master Jesper had strewn and crossed out alchemical symbols, as though trying to work out the missing ingredient to the antidote.

  “Let’s take a look, then.” Master Jesper’s voice slurred as though it hadn’t had a moment’s rest.

  Guilt clawed through my insides. With Evolene gone, there was no one left to help Master Jesper. Healers probably came down to the lab, demanding updates on the elixir to awaken the witches, and I was putting pressure on it to make the antidote to the loyalty elixir. I sighed. No wonder the poor troll was feeling the strain.

  King Magnar raced into the room and knelt by Piper’s side. “Is she cursed?”

  “Step away, Your Majesty,” said Master Jesper. “I’m just about to perform the diagnostic spells.”

  “Yes.” He rubbed his brow. “Very well.”

  As soon as King Magnar backed off, Master Jesper bathed the little girl with white magic. It swirled around her tiny figure, making her unraveled pigtails move. After a few moments, the troll hummed. “There is something, but it doesn’t look harmful.”

  I stiffened. The spriggans could have embedded an artifact inside her to get at the dragons.

  “What do you mean?” asked King Magnar.

  Master Jesper peered into the white light. “I’m not sure, but it will take the magic of half-a-dozen witches to unravel it. In addition to that, she's suffering from magical depletion, dehydration, and severe desanguination. It will take several days to synthesize
enough blood to restore her to health.”

  “Take mine if it will help,” said King Magnar.

  The troll paused. “Are you complete siblings?”

  King Magnar nodded. “Will my blood help Piper?”

  “I will need to perform a few tests, but I don’t see why it shouldn’t,” said Master Jesper. It turned off the magic and bustled to the table, where it picked up a smaller staff and raised it at King Magnar. “May I?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Please.”

  “The vein-to-vein enchantment will pinch a little, but young Piper won’t feel a thing. For safety, please sit in a chair with a supportive back, in case she requires more than anticipated.”

  I rushed to the corner and pulled up a high-backed chair. King Magnar muttered his thanks and lowered himself onto the seat. Master Jesper pointed the small staff at the vein on the side of King Magnar’s neck. Red light shot out, making King Magnar grimace.

  My hands flew up to my chest in anticipation of the sight of blood, but nothing happened. Usually, with these kinds of medical treatments, blood flowed from one patient to another through a protected magical passage. Perhaps for the sake of delicacy, Master Jesper had added an invisibility spell to its blood transfusion enchantment.

  King Magnar became paler as the enchantment progressed, but Piper sighed.

  “Ah,” said Master Jesper. “Thank you for your donation.”

  “I didn’t do it for you,” muttered King Magnar.

  The troll beamed. “I am grateful nonetheless for the opportunity to save others.”

  I straightened. “Can we question her sooner?”

  King Magnar stiffened. “There will be no interrogation of my sister.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I snapped. “We still need to ask her how she escaped, what the spriggans did to her, and what happened to the other girls.”

  King Magnar’s face crumpled. He deflated before my eyes, doubled over in his chair, and pressed his head into his hands. His shoulders shook, as though wracked with sobs, and my throat dried. Had I said something wrong?

 

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