“I-I already sounded the alarm.” Evolene pointed at a lever on her desk.
“What’s happened?” Madam Maritimus tied her white hair back, as though readying herself for battle.
Master Fosco shot Evolene a filthy look and muttered. “Jankin is dead. Dragon fire.”
The witches, all carrying full-sized staffs, gasped. I assumed that they worked in security, rather than agriculture, because they wore black, leather armor with navy blue breastplates. Each of them wore patchwork cloaks for flying, which explained how they’d reached the reception so quickly.
Madam Maritimus’ lips thinned. “I’ll contact the Magical Militia.”
“I will not have the Witch General meddling with my mountain!” Master Fosco balled his fists. “You will restore Jankin’s room and remove all traces of dragon fire.”
“And the dead human?” She raised her chin.
“Nobody will mourn him.”
The receptionist clapped her hand over her mouth, while the witches all exchanged appalled looks. My own stomach churned at the Master’s callousness.
“And the dragon?” Madam Maritimus’ voice had turned as cold as the Frozen Sea.
He stalked toward her, eyes burning with defiance. “I will catch it before anyone else is hurt by its rampage.”
I didn’t know what kind of powers Master Fosco possessed, but if Aunt Cendrilla had put him in charge of the mountain, he would be stronger than the average witch. I guessed he was a dragon mage, able to control even the most powerful and deadly of the beasts. From the way he was glaring at Madam Maritimus, he looked ready to breathe fire on the dozen witches.
My throat spasmed. I had to say something to break up the tension. “How could a wild dragon even get loose?”
Master Fosco whirled on us, nostrils flaring, eyes burning like coals. “Who are you?”
“I’m A-Albert Bluford, sir. This is Ivan Longhorn. Mr. Jankin told us to report here to be assessed for the Dragon Academy.”
Master Fosco snarled. His gaze darted at the exit, as though he wanted to throw us out. At this stage, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be part of an Academy that treated human lives so callously. Even Father, who kept serfs on Mount Bluebeard, would never refer to a human in such a terrible way.
He turned his smoldering eyes back to us and glowered. My imagination must have gone rogue, because thin tendrils of smoke seemed to appear from his nostrils. The dragon mage was probably deliberating on whether to incinerate us, so we wouldn’t expose the Dragon Sanctuary’s terrible secret.
After a long silence, he turned to Evolene. “Induct them immediately. No one must leave the Mountain or communicate outside our territory.”
An angry, red flush stained Madam Maritimus’ face. “Do you intend to cover up a murder?”
Master Fosco bared his teeth. “This is the domain of the Dragon Defense Division, not the Magical Militia. If you cannot understand this, you are free to find a home elsewhere.”
The witch’s nostrils flared, but she clamped her mouth shut. Neither of her dozen colleagues said a word.
“And someone find Phoenix!” He spun on his heel and stormed out of the reception area.
Madam Maritimus scowled and walked out with her witches in tow. I stared after them, wondering if they would do the right thing and call the Witch General.
Evolene chewed on her bottom lip, reached down to a drawer, and pulled out two parchments. “I’d better take down your details.”
My legs were already backing toward the door. “Maybe we should return when they’ve caught the rogue dragon.”
Ivan sighed. He walked across the reception area and picked up a quill from the desk. “Didn’t you hear the Director, Albert? The whole community is locked down until they’ve caught the dragon. We might as well enroll, seeing that we’re trapped.”
“I don’t know.” I glanced up at the skylights and at the doors, pulse twitching in my throat. “There’s a dragon out there that can fit into small spaces. It can attack us any time it wants.”
He glanced up, blue eyes dancing with mirth. “Don’t be daft. Everyone knows dragons can’t shrink.”
“A man’s just died.” My voice was hoarse. “Aren’t you worried?”
Ivan set down the quill and straightened. “They built this place to hold dragons. That means the walls are fireproof and there are places dragons can’t get at people.” He turned to the receptionist. “Isn’t that right?”
The young woman jolted. “Y-yes!” Her gaze moved to the exit. “A dragon wouldn’t be able to get its snout through one of the doors. The hallways, living quarters, and classrooms are quite safe.”
I would have brought up the dead man again, but what was the point? Ivan was right. Master Fosco had locked down the community, and no one was getting out. It was leagues away from the nearest settlement, and there was still the rogue dragon on the loose. It looked like I had no choice but to enroll.
After we’d completed our forms, a man dressed in the same brown, leather uniform as us stepped in through the door. His chin-length, burgundy hair hung around a handsome, human face with startling, maroon eyes. I supposed he was the same age as Ivan, twenty or twenty-one, but he moved with the grace and confidence of a warrior.
Evolene squeaked. “Phoenix!”
“I assume the alarm bell was for the strange dragon with emerald-green scales? I found her wandering about outside, looking confused. She’s in the terrace pens with the other greens.”
“Let’s find Master Fosco.” Evolene scurried across the reception area toward the exit. Phoenix strode after her.
Once the door had closed behind them, I pulled at my leather sleeve. “Maybe now that the dragon’s been caught, I hope he’ll open up the barriers.”
“You aren’t thinking of backing out of the Academy, Albert?” Ivan tilted his head to the side, eyes wide. “What will your family say after you’ve spent all their gold on your uniform and books?”
Dread rumbled through my belly like an out-of-control wagon. Father would likely send me gift wrapped to King Magnar before the dawn rooster crowed. I strode forward and snatched the quill from his fingers.
“Good lad!” He patted me on the back. “You and I will be the best of friends.”
I scribbled my fictional details on the registration form, hoping no one would check them for authenticity. Having already told Ivan I was from the United Kingdom of Seven, I needed to continue with that lie.
“Well done!” Master Fosco emerged from the door with Phoenix, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. “Thanks for your quick action.”
The receptionist trailed behind them, wringing her hands. “Should I show the new students to their quarters, Master Fosco?”
“You may put their trunks with the others.” The Master beamed at the younger male. “Phoenix, take these two new boys under your wing. They’ll be joining the group trying out for the Mage Academy.”
Phoenix inclined his head. “Yes, sir.” Then, he turned to us. “Come along, then. The mess hall will be closing for lunch soon.”
Ivan and I followed Phoenix through four-feet wide, sandstone hallways in silence. No dragon could squeeze through such a space, but I wasn’t familiar with every single type. Evoline’s quiet sobs echoed against the walls, and a lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to know a person one minute and then the next to see them as a charred husk.
Phoenix led us down a stairwell then paused at a door and whispered, “Evolene was the dead man’s daughter.”
My hand flew to my chest. “What a terrible way to lose a parent!”
Ivan shook his head. “Poor girl must be distraught.”
Phoenix pushed the door open. Sunlight and warm, humid-air filled the hallway. “They never seemed like father and daughter to me. He terrified her.”
“Oh.” I glanced at Ivan, but he was already striding through the door, so I couldn’t see his expression. I stepped outside and stopped.
We s
tood on a grassy, outdoor terrace of verdant greens brightened by the afternoon sun. It stretched about twenty feet in width and ran all around the mountain. On our left was a grass-covered mountainside with the same vegetation growing beneath our feet. The terraces below were even wider, some growing fruit trees, others crops. They stretched out in an endless stream of green, and several levels below, stood cattle grazing on the grass.
My breath caught. The landscape reminded me a little of home, but instead of an expanse of fields and forests stretching for leagues, we were on the side of a mountain in full view of the surrounding scrubland.
“This is level one of Mount Fornax.” He pointed upwards. “The reception building is a level up.”
It was difficult to see the surface of the mountain from where we stood, although I did catch glimpses of tree branches.
Phoenix strode ahead, gesturing to the left wall. “Each dragon has their own spacious stall, and everyone gets a good view of the skies. The stalls also link to a communal area in the hollow of the mountain.”
I continued after him and stopped at a giant opening in the wall. A crocodile-green dragon lounged deep within a cavern, resting its head on folded arms. Shadows obscured most of its features except for a thick, serpentine scale adorned with horns.
“What a lovely dragon.” I reached my hand out, only to meet an invisible barrier. “Ouch!”
The tip of its tail flicked at me, and I hurried away.
We continued over the terrace. “How many dragons live in Mount Fornax?”
Phoenix rubbed the back of his head. “That depends on how you define a dragon. Including eggs and cocoons, I suppose we have about seven hundred.”
I was about to ask what he meant about cocoons, but an ear-piercing roar shook me to the marrow. My head snapped to the side, and I stared into another stall. The dragon lying inside widened slitted, scarlet eyes that seemed to reach into my soul. Each eye was as big as my head, and the dragon’s head was as high as I was tall. My breath caught, and I stilled, not taking my eyes off the massive predator.
“How friendly!” said Ivan from up ahead.
This dragon looked nothing like Aunt Cendrilla’s steed, Fogo. Its face was shaped like that of a lion, with a regal snout and emerald green scales instead of fur. Where there would have been a mane, scale-covered horns, each as long as my legs, curved back from the top of its head. Olive-colored horns protruded from its lower jaw.
When the dragon rose to its feet, it did so with the grace of a giant cat, but its body reminded me of the iguanas that dwelled on the tropical forest region of Bluebeard Mountain. It stood on thick, muscular legs with forearm-length claws splayed out for balance.
“Ah,” replied Phoenix. “That’s the dragon I caught lurking around the courtyard.”
“The—” Words caught in my throat. I coughed. “The one who killed Mr. Jankin?”
“No one else could have done it.” Phoenix walked back and stood next to Ivan. “Madam Maritimus’ security witches accounted for the whereabouts of all the others.”
I shook my head. Although whatever caused the fire was hot enough to turn a man and his desk into char, something still didn’t add up. “This dragon could never have fit through the hallways, let alone the doors.”
The green dragon tilted its head to the side, its eyes seeming to track our every word.
“Jankin’s office had a skylight,” replied Phoenix.
Ivan nodded. “That makes sense. The dragon could have blasted poor Mr. Jankin from above.”
Phoenix didn’t reply for a long time, then he raised a shoulder. “I wouldn’t exactly describe Jankin in such sympathetic terms, but I suppose even he didn’t deserve a fiery death.”
A rush of anger filled my chest and seared my cheeks. How unfeeling! I was about to comment, when a female voice filled my ears. “I’m innocent!”
Chapter 7
“Did you hear that?” I turned to Ivan.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“Um… that voice.” I stared into the dragon’s crimson eyes and blinked several times, as though the movement would clear my head. Maybe I had imagined a voice exclaiming her innocence. It couldn’t have been the dragon, because they would sound growly, like Father’s whenever he chastised me for dropping my guard during sword practice.
“Bluford is it?” Phoenix’s sharp tone snapped me out of my musings.
I pulled my gaze from the dragon to find him and Ivan staring at me. “Yes?”
“Come along.” He jerked his head to the right. “I’ll introduce you to the other boys.”
I nodded and spared one last glance at the green dragon, who stared back with narrowed eyes. It took a step toward me, and my heart jolted. If it could escape its pen once, it could certainly do it again. Maybe the invisible barriers allowed dragons to push through with brute strength.
Ivan and Phoenix continued along the terrace, passing a snoozing, seaweed-colored dragon, curled up like a snake in its stall. Tendrils of white smoke curved out of its nostrils and back in again when it inhaled. This dragon seemed larger than the emerald one that had stared into my eyes, and I wondered if they grew bigger with age.
“Phoenix?” I asked. “How did that dragon escape its stall?”
He paused and tilted his head to the side. “I’d never seen her before today. Sometimes wild dragons find their way here.”
I gulped. That sounded dangerous. “Wild—”
“They’re not all feral.” Phoenix chuckled. “That’s the term used to describe dragons who haven’t learned the rules of dragon society. There’s a team of warriors who catch them wherever they pop up in the Known World. The younger ones are easier to train, but if they’re fully grown, they go into the lower stalls for taming.”
“Does that hurt?” I asked.
Phoenix shook his head. “It’s very much like breaking in a horse.”
“Except deadlier,” said Ivan.
Phoenix grinned. “That’s what Master Fosco says. But with the right attitude and magical assistance, dragon taming can be rewarding. Most boys come here wanting to be mages, but you two might want to consider that as an option if General Thornicroft doesn’t accept you into the Mage Academy.”
My brows rose. Everyone in Steppe knew that name, although few had ever met General Thornicroft. He was the Dragon Defense Division’s equivalent of the Witch General and the most powerful dragon mage in the country.
The sun moved behind a cloud, causing shadows from the trees overhead to lengthen. A cooler breeze meandered across the terrace, and I inhaled its fresh scent. “What will become of the dragon who killed Mr. Jankin?”
“That’s a matter for the Council of Dragons,” said Phoenix. He quickened his steps and reached a patch of wall where the grass had become sparse, exposing the sandstone underneath. He stopped at a wooden door set within the wall and said, “We’ll go one level down.”
I was expecting him to open the door, but he continued a few more feet and stepped on a rock protruding from the lawn like a stepping-stone. A sandstone staircase formed on the side of the mountain.
“Isn’t that a waste of magic?” I asked.
He descended the steps. “We have enough dragons to power the mountain.”
“Are you talking about the magic stored in frozen flames?” asked Ivan.
Phoenix paused at the foot of the stairs and grinned. “That’s right. Very good, Longhorn.”
My heart sank as I pictured myself not being able to make any intelligent contributions in the classes. Ivan had obviously done a lot of reading on dragons and Mount Fornax. It was a terrible thing to wish for, but I hoped the other new students wouldn’t also be so knowledgeable.
At the next level of the mountain, we were met, not by more dragon stalls, but by an eighteen-feet high opening that led into a large, busy room. Hundreds of males, many of whom were half-ogres like Father, sat around tables. Most wore dragon-proof armor, but with different designs from mine and Ivan’s
.
“This is the mess hall,” said Phoenix. Everyone is welcome to dine here.”
The room reminded me of the Magical Militia, a single-sex environment, where cadets and combat witches mingled with witches versed in a variety of disciplines such as agriculture, metallurgy, and medicine.
I couldn’t find any very young males, let alone those wearing cadet uniforms. Turning to Phoenix, I asked, “Where are the students?”
“Official classes don’t start until next week, so most students are still at home.” Phoenix stepped through the opening into the mess hall. “A few instructors will be available to see how you fare with the basics. This will give them enough time to assess if you have what it takes to become a dragon mage.”
Ivan stepped into the mess hall, and I stretched out my hand to see if there really was a barrier. The tiniest of pressure met my palm in a series of gentle crackles. I pushed my hand through to meet cool air, then I stepped inside.
The scent of cooked eggs filled my nostrils, and a cacophony of noises assaulted my ears. Male laughter, male shouting, male chomping of teeth. My heart accelerated. Compared to anything I’d ever experienced this was just so… raucous.
My feet stilled, and my gaze caught a pair of male cooks standing behind a table-sized, iron griddle. They wore linen tunics under heavy, white aprons. The larger, a half-ogre, whose green hair was tied into a topknot, poured a bucket of beaten eggs onto the hotplate. A second male slammed hunks of meat onto the bubbling eggs. It was hard to describe his appearance, as a giant eyepatch obscured the left side of his face.
“This way,” Phoenix shouted over the noise.
I stole another glance at the smaller chef and winced at a livid, red scar on his jaw. Perhaps he’d received it from a dragonet?
“You and your classmates will take your meals here.” Phoenix pointed at the iron griddle. “The cooks usually prepare something interesting in the middle of the room, but there’s plainer fare at the buffet table on the right.” He gestured at a long table crammed with roasted meats and bread. Massive chefs stuffed joints onto platters and handed them to smaller waiters.
Dragon Mage Academy Box Set Page 6