Dragon Mage Academy

by Cordelia Castel

  “I hope you will still love me when you discover the extent of my atrocities.” He pressed his lips to her knuckles, repositioned her arm, and stood.

  My heart sank. It appeared that he had absorbed everything I had told him and decided to enslave us all anyway.

  Chapter 18

  My chest became tighter and tighter throughout the walk from the Healer’s Academy. By the time we passed under the archway into the reception courtyard, the crowd of warriors surrounding us made me feel like a moth trapped in a giant’s fist. I kept my head down, focusing on the dozens of footsteps trampling the sandstone, marching me to what would be my prison for the night.

  “Your Highness?” asked a voice.

  I raised my head and met Albens’ gaze. “Yes?”

  He inclined his head. “It will be an honor to serve under you in the upcoming war.”

  King Magnar patted me on the wrist. “I’m so pleased you’ve already gained the trust and loyalty of the elite warriors. Captain Griffon will be an asset to your war room.”

  I could only nod. At this stage, reasoning with King Magnar had proven futile, as had trying to reach the dragons and warriors through the loyalty elixir. My only choice was to play along until I found a way to prevent the start of the war and trust that my friends and Master Jesper were working behind the scenes on the antidote to the loyalty elixir.

  “Allow me.” Healer Alabio opened the door, activating the lights.

  The royal suite turned out to be a fancier version of our dorms: a well-appointed common room with plush, velvet sofas, polished sandstone low tables, and matching drapes on windows that looked out into the lawns. There were four doors, which I assumed led to bedrooms.

  King Magnar released my hand and turned his cool, turquoise gaze to me. “Is there anything you need before you retire, Princess Alba?”

  I could think of many things. My glamor, my breeches, an absence of the wretched damsel denial. Instead, I shook my head.

  “See to it that my bride-to-be does not wander around at night,” he said to Albens.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Albens and his team of mages bowed.

  King Magnar grabbed my wrist. “One more thing.” He raised my knuckles to his lips. “Good night, Princess Alba.”

  Irritation prickled my skin, and my hand closed into a fist. But the damsel denial magic tightened around my heart, making my left arm go limp. I huffed out a breath. It was a sad day when I couldn’t give the wretch a well-deserved punch in the mouth.

  He dropped my hand and turned to the room with a golden crown on the door.

  Albens bowed and gestured to the door at the far side of the common room. “This way, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you.” I strode past the velvet sofas toward the room. King Magnar hadn’t directly ordered me not to wander about at night. If I could find a window or skylight, I might be able to get out and help with the antidote. Or at least find the flying cat and see if it had managed to steal the parchment.

  The royal bedroom was a larger version of the study-bedroom in my dorms. Instead of a cot, a plush four-poster took pride of place, and instead of a study desk, there was a dressing table. The washstand was exactly the same as the one in my dorm, except this one had a much larger mirror. I stepped into the room and bade Albens and the other warriors a good night.

  After pulling the stool to the middle of the room, I stood on it and stretched up to the skylight. The crescent moon shone through the clouds, but I found no handles, latches or fastenings. But a dragon might be able to loosen it with her claws.

  I reached into our bond. “Fyri, where are you?”

  “At the drinking pool. Do you know there are guards everywhere? They told me I can’t leave.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I stepped down and walked to the window. They probably didn’t want her flying to my rescue. “Where’s this pool?”

  “On the interior side of the waterfalls.” Fyrian sent me an image of a vast body of water illuminated by thousands of dragon moths. Dozens of dragons stood at its banks, lapping at the water.

  “Don’t you have troughs in your stalls?”

  “It’s much tastier from the source,” she replied.

  “Right.” I pulled the curtains open. Two warriors standing outside my window turned and inclined their heads. With a growl, I pulled them shut. “Did any of the dragons give you a hard time because I got arrested?”

  A giddy warmth flooded our bond. “Actually, they all want to be my friend. They’re calling you the Queen of Dragons.”

  I rubbed my temples and lowered myself onto the edge of the four-poster. “Are you sure you can’t sneak away?”

  “Everybody’s watching me and being so nice. I don’t think they’d let me go anywhere on my own.” She gave me a mental shrug and continued drinking.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and snarled. There had to be a way to stop King Magnar’s plans. If I could wait until everyone was asleep, sneak out, and hide in one of Evolene’s tunnels, then there would be no Savannah Sky Commander to lead the war. I shook my head. The damsel denial would interpret that as hiding from the wedding and probably kill me.

  Sitting on the bed complaining wasn’t getting me any closer to saving Mount Fornax. I threw myself back, closed my eyes, and sank into the soft, feather mattress. In a few hours, the warriors outside my room would be asleep, and I would sneak out and help with the antidote. For now, I’d just have to close my eyes and wait.

  Heavy knocking on my door jolted me out of my slumber. My eyes snapped open, and I tumbled off the bed, landing on my hands and knees. “Huh?”

  “His Majesty wants you ready in twenty minutes, Your Highness.”

  I glared at the door. Sunlight streamed into the room from the skylight, making me groan. How in the Known World could I have overslept?

  “Good morning,” said Fyrian. “You missed a really good celebration last night!”

  “What happened?”

  “Master Solum let me out of the mountain. He and the other black dragons went to the poppy fields and roasted me a rabbit rex. It was delicious.”

  I shook my head. I must have been affected by the poppies through our bond. That would teach me for leaving it wide open while I slept. After splashing water on my face and detangling my hair with my fingers, I walked to the end of the room and flung the door open.

  King Magnar stood on the threshold of the room, fists raised as though to knock on the door. He sniffed. “Come along, our subjects await.”

  We stepped out of the royal suite, only to find every single warrior in Mount Fornax crowded on the courtyard. I stifled a groan. Were the effects of the loyalty elixir getting worse? I’d never heard of ogres missing a hearty meal for anything other than a fight, and there was absolutely nothing urgent or exciting about King Magnar that couldn’t wait until after breakfast.

  One of the mages who worked with Albens carried over a bench. “You may give your morning speech from here, Your Majesty.”

  He hopped on the bench and pulled me up. “Warriors of Mount Fornax,” he said in a nasal voice. “I stand before you not as your King, but as your Commander-in-chief. Today, we battle, for the wards around our lands will fall, freeing us to reclaim the Savannah Empire from the tyranny of the spriggans!”

  The warriors raised their fists and cheered.

  As soon as their voices died down, I asked, “How do we kill spriggans who can appear and disappear at will like a purple dragon?”

  He smirked. “Captain Griffon will teach the riders of purple dragons how to perform the miraculous feat of battle magic we witnessed yesterday in the tournament.”

  The warriors gave him a round of polite applause instead of enthusiastic cheers. Deep down, they had to know it would be impossible to learn Albens’ trick before war broke out.

  My pulse flickered within my dry throat. A few more questions like this, and maybe I could get a few of the warriors thinking about alternative ways to show their loyalty to King Magnar.r />
  I cleared my throat. “The spriggans have had centuries to develop ways to capture and enslave dragons. What methods do we have to counter these?”

  King Magnar’s face twisted into a crooked smile. “Ha, ha! Forgive my bride. She’s having a few last-minute nerves about being a married woman, if you know what I mean.”

  Snickers filled the reception courtyard, accompanied by bawdy chatter about skittish maidens. I curled my lip and glared at King Magnar. How dare he make jokes at my expense?

  Holding my elbow in a firm grip, he stepped off the bench and headed for the mess hall. His retinue of guards parted the crowds, giving us easy passage. As soon as we reached the stair stone, he hissed, “Are you trying to lose this campaign before it even starts?”

  “Nobody’s thinking straight,” I hissed back, “not even you! We don’t have a single weapon against the spriggans. The alchemists were working on something. Why don’t you wait until Master Jesper can create a weapon?”

  “We must strike now while we have momentum.” He glided down the stairs with the poise of a gentleman descending into a ball.

  I curled my lip and pulled my elbow out of his grip. King Magnar was descending into madness, and he wasn’t going to pull me down with him. “We’re more likely to kill innocent civilians if we invade Savannah with dragons.”

  “Dragon fire kills spriggans,” he snapped. “Did you not see at the border?”

  “The fire of a sleeping dragon, but they won’t be joining your stupid war,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Then wake them.” He strode down the terrace of dragonmint, his arms half raised, palms facing upward, and head lifted in triumph as though he’d solved all the world’s problems with his glib solution.

  I rushed after him, glaring at the back of his blonde head. Even without a crown, his wretched hair shone like spun gold. It made me want to harvest it to see if it would work as the missing ingredient for the antidote.

  Master Fosco bounded down the stairs and pushed past. “If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?”

  “What is it?”

  “Once a sleeping dragon has been awakened, it is nearly impossible to get them to wake until they have completed a sleep cycle.”

  “How long is that?” King Magnar paused outside the barrier to the mess hall.

  “Three moons.”

  King Magnar shook his head. “We don’t have that much time to waste. My original strategy to overwhelm them with numbers is sufficient.”

  He stepped into the mess hall.

  Master Fosco’s features clouded, but in seconds, they smoothed out and he said, “Very good, Your Majesty.”

  I pursed my lips and followed them both inside. Pointing out the dangers of invading the Savannah Empire unprepared should have at least made somebody pay attention, but the loyalty elixir was just too strong.

  “You should trust Magnar to win despite the odds,” said Fyrian.

  “But he’s not fighting,” I replied.

  “What?”

  “His Sky Commander fights in his place. Don’t your dragon friends know this?”

  Fyrian went quiet for a very long time. That had to be a good sign. “I-I’ll ask.”

  Since everyone had crowded the reception courtyard, only a few servers occupied the mess hall. Eyepatch ushered me to my golden throne and brought a breakfast of sausages served with fried potatoes and chunks of stripy antelope cheese. A lead weight of dread filled my stomach, but I forced myself to eat in case I needed the energy for later.

  The mess hall filled, and warriors gathered around the serving tables for breakfast rolls the sizes of dinner plates. There were no spits or griddles this morning, and I wondered if the chefs were busy preparing a wedding feast, war rations, or both.

  Minutes into our meal, King Magnar leaned into me. “I hear you’ve been spreading discord among the dragons.”

  “When would I have had the chance to do such a thing?”

  “Though your telepathic link,” he snarled. “Master Solum tells me the green and black dragons are agitated because I won’t be leading them into war.”

  “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  He bared his teeth. “Once we’re wed, you become a member of the Savannah royal family. And the loyalty they have to me will spread to you.”

  “I refuse to let anyone blindly follow me into a war we can’t win.”

  “You won’t have a choice.”

  “I’ll make you regret—” The magic clenched my heart, and I dropped my fork and gasped. Threatening King Magnar had activated the damsel denial’s punishment.

  He shook his head. “In time, you will learn your place. Finish your breakfast. I want you battle-ready before noon.”

  I closed my fists around my knife and fork, shaking at the injustice of it all. If only I had let Niger arrest King Magnar for being in league with the alchemists. The damsel denial wouldn’t have activated, and we could have hidden him away and found the antidote to the loyalty potion at our leisure. That one act of compassion had backfired in such a terrible and unstoppable manner. My only hope was that Master Jesper had failed to produce the alkahest for the witches, and we’d all be stuck behind the wards, unable to leave Mount Fornax.

  Chapter 19

  After breakfast, King Magnar wanted to return to the Healer’s Academy to check on his little sister. When we reached the basement, the laboratory door was closed, and Master Jesper stood outside in the hallway with its arms folded.

  “Is Piper awake?” asked King Magnar.

  The troll shook its head. “She awoke several hours ago but was in such a distressed state, I had to sedate her.”

  His face dropped. “What happened? What did she say?”

  Master Jesper rubbed its chin. “Nothing intelligible, I’m afraid. She was mostly thrashing about and trying to hurt herself.”

  “Was it the dark magic?”

  “No. It’s still unactivated.”

  My brows drew together. In all the time I had known the troll, Master Jesper had never stood in the hallway to guard the laboratory. It had always performed a spell. Perhaps all the non-stop work had finally caught up and exhausted its magic. King Magnar’s guards gathered behind us, muttering among themselves.

  King Magnar tried to pass. “I must see her.”

  “She is resting.” Master Jesper didn’t move aside.

  Albens stepped forward. “Let His Majesty through.”

  Master Jesper rubbed its head. “Ah… My apologies,” it said in an overly loud voice. “Here I thought my patient’s rest and recuperation was of the utmost importance. I will step aside and let you enter.”

  A jolt of excitement made my heart accelerate. That had to be the strangest thing I’d ever heard the troll say. It had to be hiding something. Even King Magnar narrowed his eyes. He was about to speak when Master Jesper stepped aside and slammed the door open.

  King Magnar stepped inside. “What is the progress with the witches?”

  The troll pressed its palms together. “Experiments are looking favorable.”

  I followed King Magnar into the laboratory. The table had returned to the middle of the room, with no sign of the giant cauldron. Evolene sat at Mr. Bacon’s bedside, her arms folded neatly across her lap, watching over the bandaged alchemist eat his porridge. From the lack of activity in the room, whatever they had been making the night before had been a success.

  Piper lay in her cot, looking pale. King Magnar ran his fingertips over her round cheek. “With all the care and attention she should have received at your hands, why doesn’t she seem any better?”

  “I do not follow,” said Master Jesper.

  I chewed my lip. Couldn’t Master Jesper be less evasive? Evolene was clearly pretending to take care of Mr. Bacon. One didn’t have to know the pair’s mannerisms to suspect they were plotting something. I glanced around to the far corner. There was also no sign of General Thornicroft and his magic healing bubble. Pulling my shoulders back, I sucked in a dee
p breath. If these two didn’t stop acting strangely, they would alert everyone’s suspicion. I needed to distract King Magnar.

  “Your Majesty.” I hurried to his side and placed my palm on his shoulder. “When the witches found you outside the wards, you looked even worse.”

  He turned around, turquoise eyes fixed on my hand. “I did?”

  “It took several days for them to drain the dark magic from your system. Piper can’t recover overnight.”

  “I… see.” He glanced over my shoulder at Master Jesper. “How soon can you awaken the witches?”

  The troll wrung its hands. “As I said, experiments are underway. I did not want to risk the entire population—”

  “I only need enough witches to lower the wards,” snapped King Magnar.

  Master Jesper swept into a low bow. “Then I will endeavor to give the elixir to Madam Maritimus and her team.”

  “They need to be ready for work by noon.”

  “Of course,” said the troll a little too smoothly to be telling the truth.

  “Something isn’t right.” King Magnar squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. I twisted my features into an expression of concern and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. Anything to distract him from this direction of thought. With a grimace, he batted my hand away and glared at Master Jesper.

  I widened my eyes. “Your Majesty, are you well? Perhaps we should—”

  “Where are those two cadets?” he snapped.

  “Out fetching spring water,” Master Jesper replied without missing a beat.

  “Bring them here for questioning.”

  “But any setbacks in obtaining the water will delay—”

  “My men will bring all the spring water you need. I want to see Cadets Griffon and Perrault, now!”

  Master Jesper shook its head and sighed. “Your Majesty, I must protest at this interference in my—”

  Albens pointed his sword at its throat. “Silence, troll. His Majesty is right. You are hiding something.”

  The entire room went still. Master Jesper didn’t move, although panic flashed across its quicksilver eyes. Evolene wrapped her arms around her middle, as though holding herself back from bolting out of the room, and Mr. Bacon stopped eating his porridge to listen. My own throat dried. While I had absolutely no idea what was happening, I knew we were about to get caught.