“I won’t let you ruin things for Fyrian,” I snarled.
He tried to wriggle free. “But Evolene is innocent.”
“Then let her prove it for herself!”
We continued wrestling on the ground with me trying to pin Stafford down with my weight, and him trying to throw me off without placing his hands on my person.
“Don’t you care that a dragon might die because of her?” I hissed.
Stafford shook his head. “But Evolene didn’t do it.”
“And neither did Fyrian!”
Stafford bucked, knocking me onto my back, pinning me down with his elbow. “Ivan, come over here and talk sense into her!”
Ivan jogged over, his face pale. He glanced from me to Stafford, holding the chair leg to his chest. For a moment, it looked like he wouldn’t move, but when Stafford raised his head, Ivan smashed the chair leg over the base of Stafford’s skull. Stafford’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he fell onto his face.
I gasped. “Why did you do that?”
Ivan lowered his hands and stared down at Stafford’s unconscious form. “I didn’t want to, but neither of us could have beaten him in a fight. Once we’ve cleared Fyrian’s name, and Evolene gets a fair trial, he’ll come to his senses.”
Guilt wrapped its claws around my chest and squeezed. Stafford did have a point. Saving Fyrian would condemn Evolene. I shook away those thoughts. Dragons were people, not scapegoats.
“Let’s hide him and come back for him later.” Ivan bent down and pulled Stafford off my chest, helping me breathe easier. “Help me put him out of the way.”
“All right.” I stood, grabbed one of his arms, and pulled him through the hallway and back to our common room. I opened the door to my chamber and locked him up.
“Don’t feel bad,” said Fyrian. “He was about to ruin everything.”
I nodded. She was right. Phoenix was sick of my antics surrounding the murder, and he clearly liked Evolene. If Stafford had raised the alarm, Phoenix would have sent me back to the witches tied up and bound in fiery cuffs.
Ivan nodded back. “Let’s go and find the real killer.”
Chapter 23
I stepped into the common room, casting my locked door one last glance. A pang of guilt shot through my heart. As annoying as Stafford could be, he didn’t deserve to get hurt and locked up. Not after he’d gone to such risk and effort to save me from the witches and then the hornets. He’d probably never speak to me again, and I would deserve it.
Fyrian snarled into my head. “Ivan knocked sense into him if you ask me. Now, stop dawdling and find Evolene. The witches have finally agreed on the combination of runes to use on their ritual circle.”
“Are you all right?” I walked around the empty sofas.
Ivan held open the door. His chest was still heaving from the effort of chasing after Stafford and dragging his heavy body into my room. “Having second thoughts?”
“No. Let’s go.” I strode out of the door into the hallway.
“Where are you two going?” asked a gruff voice.
Rufus stood at the hallway with Gobi. The pair of half-ogres glowered at us.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the jailhouse, Princeling?” Gobi sneered.
My mouth dried, and my insides clenched. Fighting Stafford had been bad enough. He was a quarter-ogre and had been extra gentle on me because I was a Princess. Rufus wouldn’t attack, but I was sure Gobi would put in some extra effort under the pretense of apprehending me.
I raised my chin. “The Queen’s Guard is on the surface, waiting to take me back to the palace. I came for my things.”
Gobi’s eyes flickered to my hands. “Where’s your trunk?”
“Here.” Ivan produced a wooden box. “I’m holding it for him.”
Relief washed over me like a desert rain, and my lungs let out a gust of air. I kept a straight face and said, “You can give me a royal send-off, if you like.”
Gobi curled his lip. “No.”
The pair passed us and entered the common room. Ivan and I hurried down the hallway in silence. Any talk of having fooled them would be picked up by their sensitive ogre hearing. While Rufus was likely to dissuade Ivan from helping me, Gobi would be spiteful enough to drag me back to the jailhouse.
“That was a close one,” said Fyrian. “There’s no time to waste. The witches are about to activate the rune circle. Can you feel any diff—”
The presence in my head vanished, leaving a blank void. Out loud, I said, “Fyri?”
“What’s wrong?” Ivan opened a door into a stairwell.
“I can’t feel her in my head!”
His eyes rounded. “Is she dead?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Alba!” The shock of her scream knocked me into Ivan.
“Y-you’re back! What happened?”
A whimper filled my ears. “The witches worked out how to block the bond, and now they’re making a little circle for you. Dr. Duclair is flying toward the jailhouse so she can put you in it.”
The cold fingers of dread ran down my back, making my skin prickle. In moments, they would discover I had escaped and raise the alarm. I turned to Ivan. “We have to hurry.”
He spun. “What’s happening?”
“The witches have found the right combination of runes and spells to block our bond.”
“Oh no!”
We ran around the hallways, hiding in alcoves and ducking behind doors whenever anyone came near. As we hurried through the corridor that led to the reception area, a petite figure with long, chestnut hair darted out from the witches’ powder room and into the door opposite.
My breath caught. “That was—”
“It’s her!” Ivan hissed.
We sprinted to the door, and I flung it open. “Evolene?”
Evolene was already halfway down a narrow staircase. She wore a black traveling cloak and held the kind of hessian bag merchants gave in the more expensive food stores. They were charmed to hold up to a dozen times their original volume and still feel light. She probably had all her belongings in the bag and was using the distraction around Fyrian’s execution to escape Mount Fornax.
“Evolene,” I snapped.
She paused, glanced over her shoulder, and shrieked, “Leave me alone!”
“I just want to talk to you.” I stepped into the stairwell, still wary from dealing with Stafford. Evolene had been a victim, and I didn’t want to be rough, but she was a witch capable of burning a man to cinders.
She hurried down the stairs and disappeared into a door.
“That stairwell leads to the mountain’s hollow.” Ivan’s voice shook. “Most of the dragons will ignore her, but if she reaches the wild dragons in that state, she might incite a frenzy, and we’ll all get flamed.”
I clenched the carved, sandstone banister. “What?”
“Don’t let her get away!” Fyrian’s voice was muffled.
“How far down is the entrance to the dragons?” I rushed down the stairs and flung the door open. It led to a dark hallway of unpolished sandstone, illuminated by tiny openings close to the ceiling.
Ivan moaned. “I don’t know!”
“Ten levels,” replied Fyrian. “But there are dragonet chutes large enough for human-sized people. If she’s desperate enough, she can crawl her way to the dragons and avoid being executed for killing a human.”
Panic flashed across my insides like sheet lightning, and I quickened my pace down the darkened hallway. Until now, I’d forgotten that executions could be brutal.
Mother once told me a story about Jack Galloway, the human who had murdered Father’s guardian. The local magistrate had ordered Father to eat him as retribution, but Mother had begged him not to, and Father had taken the human as a slave instead. Even now, over twenty years later, ogres still called Father a coward for not eating the human.
Ivan jogged beside me, struggling to catch his breath. My feet faltered. The Militia’s punishment for witch
es who killed humans with magic was a slow, torturous milking of life force and magic. Those who endured it ended up looking like mummified husks before they eventually died. I suppose death at the jaws of a wild dragon sounded better.
We rounded a corner and ran past what looked like an observation deck. The entire left wall opened up into the mountain’s interior. Orange light, presumably from the sunset, lit the mountain’s rough, sandstone walls.
I jerked my head away from the breathtaking view and glared at the witch’s retreating back. “Evolene, stop!”
She turned around, terror making her grey eyes glow silver. “D-don’t hurt me!”
“Come with us to the surface and confess to killing Mr. Jankin.” I slowed down my steps, raising my palms, trying to look placating. “You’re not a fully trained witch, and they’ll understand when you explain your side of the story.”
Evolene shook her head and raced toward a dark patch in the wall. Behind me, Ivan puffed and wheezed.
“Is that a hole?” I asked Fyrian.
“Never seen it before,” she replied. “By the way, the witches know you’re missing, and they’re performing locator spells. Grab her before she jumps.”
I jogged after her. “P-please don’t do anything drastic. I know why you killed Mr. Jankin, and I’m sorry he was such a horrible father. But if you come with me, I’ll speak to Queen Cendrilla on your behalf.”
Evolene reached the end of the wall, lips trembling, and tears glistening in her eyes. “I didn’t want to do it.”
Fyrian roared with triumph. “She’s just confessed.”
“I know,” I thought back. “But it’s too early to celebrate.”
I said out loud to Evolene, “Let’s go up to the surface and explain everything, all right? I have enough gold to help you get an advocate to defend you in court.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Please…” I stepped forward. “An innocent dragon is about to be executed.”
“Somebody, help me!” she screamed.
“You’re wasting time!” Ivan rushed past and grabbed her by the arms.
My breath caught. “What are you—”
Evolene shrieked. She twisted in his grip, and the pair of them fell through the dark patch in the wall. Their yells echoed all the way down the chasm.
I stumbled forward, blood draining from my cheeks. What was that?
“No!” Fyrian gasped.
A loud thud reverberated from the hole, and I nearly collapsed with relief. “It can’t be as deep as we thought.”
“Go in there and grab her,” said Fyrian.
I jogged along the observation deck to the far wall and leaned into the dark patch. It turned out to be a cavity in the sandstone about ten feet deep. Evolene stood over Ivan’s prone body, holding her small apprentice staff. The quartz tip glowed, making the ends of her hair shine like burnished copper.
“Is he all right?” I leaned forward and craned my neck, but I couldn’t see his face or whether he was breathing.
Ivan wasn’t the most robust of ogre-hybrids. He was more intellectual, and he tended to overestimate his abilities, which led to him getting hurt. Guilt twisted my stomach into knots. He’d only tried to help, and now he was stuck in a hole with a skittish witch who couldn’t control her murderous power.
“At least they haven’t fallen into a pit of wild dragons,” said Fyrian. “Make sure she doesn’t escape through another tunnel.”
Evolene turned her terror-stricken face upwards. “P-please d-don’t follow me!”
Sucking in a deep breath, I swung my legs into the hole and sat on the ledge. Then I jumped the rest of the way and landed in a crouch.
“S-sorry!” Evolene’s face twisted with anguish, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
Straightening, I exhaled. “No major harm has been done. Are you going to—”
She clapped her hands to her face and cried out.
I spun.
Ivan stood behind me. In his hand was the piece of gravestone we had used to suppress the magic of my cell. He pressed it to the side of his face, which morphed into that of an older man about the same age as Uncle Armin.
My stomach dropped, and I turned to Evolene. “What—”
Something hard and heavy crashed against my temple, and everything went black.
“ALBA!”
Fyrian’s wake-up call made my head throb. I grimaced, and a quiet moan escaped my lips. My brain felt like it had been stuffed in a skull three sizes too small, and it was straining to be let out. I lifted my arm to rub at my temples, but it was held down by ropes.
I was lying on my back with a thin board rumbling against the ground. Some kind of gag was in my mouth, and restraints restricted my legs. My eyes cracked open a fraction, and I caught glimpses of lights reflecting off tiny stalactites. Wooden trunks bumped alongside me as though propelled by magic.
“You’re awake,” said the older man. I refused to refer to him as Ivan. “I expect you’re wondering what’s happening.”
I glared at his unglamored face, taking in his thinning, gray hair, the deep lines on his face, and cheeks hollowed by missing teeth. He looked… human. But why had he disguised himself as a young ogre-hybrid to infiltrate Mount Fornax?
He smirked. “I’m about to become a rich man. By now, your father will have received a ransom note, demanding all the Bluebeard gold in exchange for his precious daughter.”
Suppressing a shudder, I furrowed my brow and asked Fyrian. “Do you understand what’s going on?”
“No,” she replied. “When you blacked out, I couldn’t see what was happening at your end. The security witches think you’ve left the mountain.”
He removed my gag. “I’d better introduce myself, shouldn’t I? You might know me as Bradford Jankin.”
My jaw dropped, and my eyes bulged. “Mr. Jankin? But you’re—”
“I know… I know…” He nodded. “You were right that a dragon didn’t burn down my office. It was Evolene and her staff. She’s been collecting dragon fire for months, so I could murder your father, but when I saw your note two nights ago, I seized my chance to hurt him and get rich.”
“Oh!” cried Fyrian. “I delivered your letter to him, and he read it over and over again then gave me another one to send back. That’s when he must have hatched his plan to kidnap you.”
I groaned. “How did you know the letter was from me?”
Mr. Jankin snorted. “Albert Bluford, sending a letter of application through dragonet. Do you know how many people outside Mount Fornax use them?”
My stomach sank. I could imagine that Master Fosco had only trusted Aunt Cendrilla with his dragonets.
His face twisted. “As soon as I saw that name, I guessed it could only be from Bluebeard’s bastard. Now that I have you, I’m going to take all his money and take his only child!”
“But why?”
“Why?” A harsh laugh escaped his throat. “Bluebeards have taken everything from me. That filthy, one-eyed giant executed my dad, and your wretched father took me as a slave, then he stole away the best friend I ever had!” his eyes glistened with tears. “I could get why she loved Prince Armin. He was royal and handsome and human. But why Bluebeard?”
Another gasp caught in my throat. He was talking about Aunt Cendrilla! That man had to be—
“I’m Jack Galloway.”
I gritted my teeth. This was the man who killed Father’s guardian and had been enslaved as punishment.
He smirked. “What do you have to say for yourself, now?”
“Father’s too obsessed with Aunt Cendrilla, to even pay attention to me! I only joined the Academy because King Magnar wants to marry her. Father’s planning on sending me to the Savannah Empire as a consolation prize.”
His face dropped. “That can’t be true.”
“Father doesn’t care about me. I’m just his possession!”
Mr. Jankin’s mouth twisted with rage. “It doesn’t matter. Someone will pay up fo
r you. And once I’ve gotten my gold, you’re dead. I hate your mother, too!”
Chapter 24
Mr. Jankin, no, Jack Galloway, took the gravestone off his face and morphed back into Ivan’s young features. I clenched my teeth and lowered my gaze to the ropes encasing my wrists. They didn’t look magical, but there were enough knots to tell me that I would need more than brute strength to break free.
He placed the stone back into the wooden trunk and walked ahead to where Evolene was dragging the ends of my board with her little apprentice staff. A bump in the walkway made the board tilt to the side, and I flinched. One of the trunks she pulled split open, spilling gold coins over the ground.
He slapped her over the head. “You did that on purpose!”
“I wasn’t—”
“Silence!”
Evolene cowered and picked up her pace, making the journey even bumpier. I squinted at her back. She was a witch, and powerful enough to have burned out an entire office with an apprentice staff. Why did she let a human push her around? At any point in time, she could have gone to Dr. Duclair or Madam Maritimus for help. Even Roseate the driver of the flying float could have defended her from her father.
I wriggled in my bonds, trying to free one of my arms, but they tightened with every movement. A growl reverberated in my throat. This was a variation of the spell used to restrain Fyrian. Not only was Evolene powerful, but she was skilled.
“Fyri,” I said into my head. “I’m going to need your help.”
“Did you miss the part where a dozen witches tied me up and put me in the middle of a ritual circle?” she snapped. “I’m in no position to help anyone!”
I groaned. “Sorry. What’s happening with the witches? Are they still trying to find me?”
“See for yourself.”
Fyrian’s consciousness seemed to stretch out and engulf mine. It was bright and full of heat and fear and flame. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them, I was inside her body, staring out of her eyes at a group of witches.
Everything felt a lot heavier compared to the last time I saw through her eyes. Even breathing was an effort.
Dragon Mage Academy Box Set Page 20