Dragon Mage Academy Box Set

by Cordelia Castel

  Albens bowed.

  “And that brother of yours…” King Magnar’s lip curled. “Niger? Send him, Cadet Perrault, and Evolene to Master Jesper to begin their duties as his assistants.”

  The knot in my stomach loosened. Hopefully, this meant Niger’s brothers wouldn’t need to discipline him anymore.

  “We sent everybody to the mess hall for dinner,” said the bald dragon rider. “Master Roopal has set up a canopy of dandedragon flowers there should you wish to continue the wedding ceremony.”

  All the blood drained from my face and settled in my roiling stomach. I held my breath, waiting for his pronouncement.

  King Magnar wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “It’s late. Let’s just eat.”

  I took his arm and walked to the double doors of the Healer’s Academy. His entourage of dragon warriors walked to our front, back, and sides. Intimidating as the males might have been, their presence was a relief. At least King Magnar wouldn’t bring up the conversation about my feelings toward him.

  Outside, the setting sun cast blood-red streaks of light on the low-hanging clouds. A cool breeze blew strands of pale, platinum hair across my face. Whatever Master Jesper had done to fix the weathervane hadn’t completely worked, but at least they weren’t as black as they had been the night homunculi roamed the grounds.

  We walked around the banks of the Great Lake, which reflected the patchy sky. Dragons darted in and out of the clouds, some swooping low enough to reach up and touch. They probably wanted to catch a glimpse of King Magnar.

  My stomach rumbled.

  King Magnar gave the back of my hand a gentle tap. “Hungry, Princess Alba?”

  “Not really,” I muttered.

  “There is no need to be demure around me,” he replied. “We both know you’re no delicate damsel.”

  Some of the warriors around us snickered. I didn’t know why. None of them even knew Princess Alba. Part of me wanted to ask what they thought was so funny, but antagonizing King Magnar would result in a comment about my ill manners or illegitimate status and before I could swing a punch, the damsel denial would force me to repeat Master Roopal’s vows of obedience. So, instead of commenting, I clenched my teeth.

  A fresh breeze blew across the Great Lake, bringing with it an earthy scent that reminded me of the giant bodies of water in Mount Bluebeard.

  Healer Alabio, the male who had fixed my dislocated shoulder joined us. “Do you have quarters here, Princess Alba?”

  “She is residing in my sisters’ rooms in the royal suite,” replied King Magnar.

  I bristled. Now he made me sound like I’d been staying there with him since the opening ceremony.

  At the edge of the plateau, one of the warriors activated a stair-stone, and we made our way over a terrace of dragon mint stalks and through the barriers of the mess hall. The warm aroma of roasted meats filled my nostrils. My mouth watered and another rumble ripped through my stomach. I placed my hand on my belly and cringed. When was the last time I ate?

  All the chatter in the mess hall stopped, and hundreds of warriors turned to gape.

  My insides shriveled into sawdust. It was bad enough having them see me in the royal box, but this was such close quarters. I shrank into King Magnar, who gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. My heart sank. It was a sad day when I was seeking comfort from the wretch intent on ruining my life.

  “Tonight is a time for rest, relaxation, and reflection.” King Magnar spread his free arm out. “We have yet to discover what torments the spriggans are inflicting on the Savannah Empire and my beloved sisters. However, Princess Piper is receiving much-needed medical attention, and tomorrow, you are all invited to my wedding, which will take place here at noon.”

  The mess hall filled with cheers.

  “Come along.” King Magnar placed his hand on the small of my back. “We’ll get you fed.”

  The head table stood at the far end of the room. Behind it was a canopy of flowers whose colors seemed to flicker like flames. Someone had set up a second golden throne next to the one King Magnar occupied. I groaned. Was it too much to be relegated to the end of the table and ignored? Masters Fosco, Roopal, Solum, and Klauw sat on King Magnar’s side of the table, and the seats on the other side remained empty.

  I raised my chin and walked alongside King Magnar on trembling legs. For once, I was glad to be wearing a long skirt. The stares of the warriors we passed burned holes in my soul, but I tightened my stomach muscles, ignored the pounding of my heart against the boning of my bodice, and didn’t falter. Apart from the opening ceremony, I’d never been out in public as Princess Alba. The Magical Militia hardly counted, as it was an all-female sisterhood where titles didn’t matter. But here, among the dragon warriors, I was as prominent as Aunt Cendrilla herself.

  A commotion on the far left interrupted me from my thoughts. Gobi raced around the tables, grinning.

  “Princess Alba, Princess Alba! It’s me, your Uncle Gobi!”

  Rufus tried to hold him back, but the young half-ogre didn’t even seem to notice.

  King Magnar paused. “Do you know this cadet, Princess Alba?”

  My dislocated shoulder throbbed in reminder of the sparring session that had gone horribly wrong.

  “Now’s your chance for revenge,” said Fyrian. “If you say no, he’ll be embarrassed in front of Magnar.”

  Gobi towered over me, cheeks pink, eyes bright with hope. I must have paused too long because his smile faltered. My heart sank. I was probably the only blood relative he had seen since his mother had died, and instead of taking him in, Father had relegated him to Mount Fornax.

  “Alba?” murmured King Magnar.

  “You’re Father’s younger brother, Gobi. He told me all about you.”

  His eyes widened, and he said in a small voice. “T-the Prince Regent mentioned me?”

  “He’s very proud of his brother, the youngest dragon mage in history.”

  Gobi’s chest swelled several inches. “T-that is right!

  I broke away from King Magnar and slipped my hand into Gobi’s. Excited chatter broke out among the warriors, but I paid them no heed. We’d already established our familial relationship, and Gobi was just a boy. “Come and sit with me at the head table and tell me all about your time here at Mount Fornax.”

  His face broke out into a smile so genuine, it made my heart twist. “C-can I bring my friend?”

  “Of course, you can.”

  Rufus bowed. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  I smiled back. “You’re most welcome, Cadet Griffon.”

  His patches of red bloomed from his cheeks down to his beard, and he gave me another bow.

  Now that I had my two classmates sitting with me at the head table, things didn’t feel so bad. Warriors approached, offering their heartfelt congratulations on our upcoming nuptials. Many introduced themselves with anecdotes of how they were connected to the Noble House of Bluebeard through marriage or from fighting under Father’s banner during the Great Dragon Revolution.

  I would have told them I hadn’t consented to marrying King Magnar, but the damsel denial kept a tight grip on my heart. It didn’t matter since the loyalty elixir would have addled their brains.

  Later, Albens and his group of mages entered the mess hall. “Your Majesty, we investigated how Princess Piper was able to enter Mount Fornax. One of our team found a Magical Militia witch outside the territory, pulling down quarantine wards.”

  King Magnar nodded. “Are we now free to pass through the wards?”

  “Not quite, Sire. Madam Maritimus and her subordinates must have locked down the territory before succumbing to the plague.”

  He nodded. “Master Jesper has until tomorrow morning to awaken the witches. After the wedding, my new bride and Sky Commander will lead you in battle.”

  The males cheered, and Albens brows drew together. “Forgive me, but is Princess Alba tested in battle?”

  I sat up straight. At last, a voice of reason.

&nb
sp; “Her pedigree speaks for itself. My bride is the daughter of the wielder of the Sword of Lightning, a General within the Fairy Fighting Force, and the niece of the Warrior Queen of Ogres herself. Queen Cendrilla fought the Great Dragon Revolution at the age of seventeen, and the Dragon Queen Alba of Savannah will be just as victorious!”

  “Dragon Queen!” shouted a rider.

  “Dragon Queen!” shouted a voice from within a crowd.

  King Magnar raised his goblet. “All hail the Dragon Queen Alba of Savannah!”

  Every male in the mess hall gave King Magnar a standing ovation, chanting a cacophony of epithets in my honor. They all seemed to have forgotten that Aunt Cendrilla had fought numerous battles, including liberating the United Kingdom of Seven from rogue alchemists, before becoming victorious in the Great Dragon Revolution. They’d also forgotten about the devastating defeat she suffered that had required her to seek the dragons’ help in taking back Steppe.

  I slid down my seat, trying to stay out of notice. A futile effort, considering King Magnar had whipped everyone up into a fervor at my family’s accomplishments, and Gobi raised my arm in the air as if I’d already liberated the Savannah Empire and put the spriggans in their graves.

  Eventually, Gobi released my arm, and I slumped in my seat, staring down at my plate of roasted mammoth trunk.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness,” said a quiet voice.

  I raised my head. Eyepatch stood in front of me, holding a platter containing pumpkin soup, baked salmon set within a bed of roasted vegetables, and cinnamon-baked pears.

  He swallowed. “I-I-I noticed you weren’t eating, Your Highness, and I pulled together the kind of meal your cousin would like. I-is that all right?”

  I smiled. “Thank you…”

  “Cobbs, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Cobbs. It looks delicious.” I pushed my plate away and leaned aside to let Eyepatch set the tray in front of me.

  “It’s an honor.” He scurried away, face aflame.

  I put my head down and ate with gusto, listening with half an ear to Gobi’s account of lessons at Mount Fornax.

  At the end of the evening, we stepped out of the wards of the mess hall into the terrace. Outside, a crescent moon hung like a scimitar in a sky of the darkest indigo. Dragon moths flittered overhead, their wings shimmering like silver in the moonlight. King Magnar said, “I am going to see Piper. My dragon guard will walk you to the royal suite.”

  I glanced over his shoulder at the quartet of dragon masters. Even if I had planned to escape, I would never get past Master Fosco’s teleportation or Master Klauw’s speed as a rapier red. Master Solum’s or Master Roopal’s abilities were still unknown to me, but neither of them appeared to be easy to slip. “I’ll come with you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You want to see those cadets.”

  “They’re my friends.”

  “After our marriage, I could forbid you from ever speaking to them.”

  I swallowed hard. “And you could keep me in a tower or locked up underground until you have use for me. Isn’t that what King Calder did to your mother?”

  His face reddened. “You would dare compare me to that… that brute!”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “How would you describe a person who makes others fight against their will? You could have helped us find the antidote, taken a bit of credit for defeating the alchemists, and later negotiated the dragons’ help in your war, but you’ve taken things too far.”

  King Magnar’s expression blanked, and his gaze slid to the dragon masters behind me. None of them commented or asked what I meant. He turned back to me, his lips pressed together in an angry line. I raised my chin. I was right, and he knew it. Even the way his eyes dipped told me he was having doubts about his plans.

  My heart swelled with the heat of an upcoming victory. If I could appeal to the side of him who had saved his sisters from their father’s plans to absorb their magic and life-force, he might rethink his plans to drag the residents of Mount Fornax into a war.

  Before I could speak, he said, “As a condition of our marriage, I forbid you from bringing up that subject.”

  The damsel denial tightened around my heart, making me wince. I didn’t even know it could be twisted in that manner.

  Master Jesper and Evolene had rearranged the laboratory so that a huge cauldron hovered in the middle of the room. They’d relegated the large table to the back, where pestles and mortars ground ingredients by magic.

  Green flames crackled from within the cauldron, which lit up the room with streaks of yellow and blue. Above the rim, alchemical symbols danced and swirled in spiral patterns.

  “Wonderful work,” cried King Magnar. “How close are you to healing the witches?”

  Master Jesper pointed its staff at the cauldron, making everything freeze. “Your donation of gold certainly helped, Your Highness. I have pulled a selection of witches from the wards upstairs to test the first version of my alkahest solution.”

  I glanced at Evolene, who stared back at me with wide eyes. She swallowed several times, wringing her hands as though the sight of King Magnar filled her with dread. It wasn’t surprising considering the number of times he’d threatened Stafford.

  Clasping his hands behind his back, King Magnar strolled to where Piper lay and perched himself on the edge of her bed. Someone, probably Evolene, had cleaned the little girl’s face and re-braided her pigtails.

  He took her hand. “I’m doing everything I can to free our sisters and the Savannah Empire from the spriggans.”

  Piper lay as still as death. I wanted to ask why she’d been strong enough to make the journey but hadn’t regained consciousness since getting medical attention, but something King Magnar whispered caught my attention.

  “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 l
ips. “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?”