Dragon Mage Academy Box Set

by Cordelia Castel

  I locked gazes with Phoenix and said, “Sorry!”

  He rolled his eyes. Apparently, he wanted to get this over and done with. I climbed onto his front paw and wrapped my arms around the warm scales of his foreleg.

  A gut-wrenching heartbeat later, we appeared in the cool, moist reception courtyard of Mount Fornax.

  Madam Maritimus, Dr. Duclair, Evolene, and Roseate, the pink-haired witch, stood in a silencing bubble and held their staffs together to form a barrier around the jailhouse.

  Master Fosco had transformed into the one-horned purple dragon and loomed above the jailhouse, blowing flames at the barrier. They rolled off the barrier and landed on the courtyard. A rapier red, who I assumed was Master Klauw, screeched at him, only to be batted away by his mighty, purple wings.

  I jumped off Phoenix’s paw and shook my head. “He really has gone mad.”

  “Fosco!” Father bellowed from the carriage window. He flung the door open and galloped down the steps, brandishing his Sword of Lightning. Sparks danced and crackled off the blade.

  “Bluebeard!”

  I whirled around.

  The Dragon Master ran toward us in his human form, arm outstretched in a handshake. His enchanted uniform hung in tatters over his body. “You came in my hour of need. These witches won’t let me kill King Magnar. Use your Sword of Lightning to cut through their magic and open up my jailhouse. I have three criminals to execute.”

  Father hooked his thumb at the Magistratus. “He wants Magnar alive at least until he can make up for the locusts.”

  Master Fosco sagged. “That will take an eternity.”

  Father slung his arm around Master Fosco’s shoulder. “We will discuss the matter over a bottle of dragon’s tears at the Warrior Queen.”

  I spluttered. “You’re drinking again?”

  Father narrowed his eyes. “You wanted him to stop attacking your betrothed. I stopped him.”

  My cheeks heated, and I glanced around to make sure no one had overheard. “He’s not my—”

  A spasm squeezed my heart, making me wince. Even denying my connection with King Magnar hurt. I sagged and watched the two males walk across the courtyard and under the archway toward the tavern. They would probably bond over missing Aunt Cendrilla.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” said Phoenix from behind. “You did it.”

  “Well done, child.” The Magistratus gave me a heavy pat on the head. “Who is in charge while Master Fosco is indisposed?”

  Master Roopal stepped forward. “That would be me.”

  “Very good. Is Mount Fornax still under the rulership of King Magnar?”

  The older Dragon Master grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Then you must prepare a trial for an unfit King and regain your independence. The rest of my ceremonial witches will arrive soon and will be able to help.” The Magistratus turned to me. “When your father sobers, he will not appreciate you running around a brotherhood of warriors looking like that. See to it that your appearance is restored.”

  Out of instinct, I glanced around to check that no one who didn’t already know my secret had heard that. “Yes, sir.”

  Master Roopal and the Magistratus headed toward the double doors of the reception building. I turned around and headed for Evolene, who had stepped away from the group of witches.

  “T-that was a great idea,” she said. “How did you know Master Fosco would go drinking with the Prince Regent?”

  My shoulders rose into a shrug. “Actually, I thought they’d duel. It turns out that they’re friends after all.”

  Evolene and I strolled through the arch onto the lawn that stretched around the Great Lake and out to the Healer’s Academy. The clouds had stopped raining elixir-infused rain and now reflected silvery blobs over the Great Lake. Fyrian was no longer at the lakeside. The healers must have transported her somewhere to recuperate.

  “Fyri?” I whispered into the bond. She didn’t reply, so I left her alone and turned to Evolene. “Where are the others?”

  “When you disappeared with Phoenix, the boys went to the mess hall to join the others, and Master Jesper went to pack up and leave for Tundra.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Why?”

  “It only came to deliver the largomorphus rex.” She shrugged. “I suppose Tundra needs their Chief Magical Officer.”

  I glanced down at my feet and sighed. Because of the recent rain, my boots sank into the soft, damp lawn. Moisture appeared on the hem of my skirt, so I hiked it up. Master Jesper had helped us so much. Mount Fornax wouldn’t be the same without it. We had to give the troll a proper thanks and send off.

  “Will you miss it?” I asked.

  “Of course. Master Jesper taught me a lot and didn’t treat me like a criminal,” she murmured.

  I bit down on my lip. “The witches do?”

  She dipped her head. “They all know why the Witch General arrested me. Madam Maritimus and Dr. Duclair are all right, but some of the others like to make nasty comments.”

  I turned around toward the reception buildings. Roseate, the pink-haired witch watched us leave. I curled my lip. A vindictive piece of work like her would probably be the ringleader of such comments. “Do you say anything back?”

  “At first, I did, but they like to remind me that I’m still on probation. At any time, they could send a scroll to the Magical Militia if I step out of line.”

  I placed an arm around her narrow shoulders and drew her close. “Witches can be horrible sometimes, can’t they?”

  She hummed her agreement. By now, probably everyone in Steppe had learned I was kicked out of the Magical Militia for not having enough power. I shoved my hands into my pockets and kicked at a pebble. It turned out that I only had the wrong sort because my powers were thriving here at Mount Fornax.

  “What will you do once Master Jesper leaves?” I asked.

  “I’ll go back to classes, I suppose,” she sighed. “And I’ll continue to learn magic in the library. By the way, would you like me to put back your glamor?”

  I smiled. “Could you? It would save me from having to ask one of the other witches.”

  “If you like, I can give you the option to turn it on and off with a magic word.” Her cheeks pinked. “In case you want to spend time with Niger.”

  A grin crossed my face. “That would be great!”

  We returned to the laboratory. All the alchemical markings were missing from the walls, and the cots were now restored back into chairs. My heart sank. It had been the headquarters of our adventures for the past couple of weeks. I wished there was a way for Master Jesper to stay. The troll was nicer and more level-headed than most of the instructors here in Mount Fornax.

  Evolene transformed a chair into a full-length mirror. “I think I know what you looked like before, but let me know if there are any features you need me to tweak.”

  First, she restored my uniform back to fireproof breeches, undershirt, gauntlets, and flying jacket.

  Master Jesper walked into the laboratory holding a trunk. “I must say, Madam Evolene, your prowess at a number of wide-ranging spells is impressive. It’s hard to believe you are self-taught.”

  I twirled around in the full-length mirror. “It’s like she’s a fully qualified witch already.”

  “And your aptitude for alchemy is unlike any I have seen in a child your age,” said the troll.

  Evolene flushed. “T-thank you.”

  “All right,” I pulled my platinum hair off my face. “I’ve chosen ‘thunderbird’ as my magic word.”

  She giggled. “Why?”

  “Because it’s hardly something I’d ever say in normal conversation.”

  “Accompany it with a click of the fingers, so you will never inadvertently trigger a transformation,” said Master Jesper.

  “How do I do that?” Evolene asked.

  The troll padded across the room and showed her how to combine a physical movement with a magic word. It was a case of performing them together and l
etting the magic recognize the combined sound as the key phrase.

  I grinned at my slender, male frame. It was no surprise that a twelve-year-old like Gobi thought of me as a rival. Even my female self looked tougher than the boy in the mirror. None of that mattered because I’d gained the respect of my fellow warriors and the attention of someone as exciting as Niger.

  “Thunderbird.” Clicking my fingers, I transformed back into Princess Alba. “I can’t wait to try this out!”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, Stafford and I strolled out of our dormitory to the mess hall for breakfast. Pale streaks of morning sunlight streamed into the corridor through the small openings in the walls overlooking the mountain’s interior. We were several feet down the hallway when Rufus and Gobi caught up with us.

  “I cannot believe you, Bluford,” muttered Gobi.

  “What are you complaining about now?” I glared at him over my shoulder.

  “We thought Princess Alba had come to visit, but it was just you, disguised as a girl!”

  I glanced at Rufus, who stared straight ahead, eyes glazed. Apparently, he didn’t care one way who was inside the Princess Alba disguise.

  Stafford nudged me and lowered his brow in one of those expressions people make when they want you to stop lying. I scowled back at him. The fastest way for everyone to learn my secret was to tell an impulsive twelve-year-old who could react badly that I was Princess Alba all along.

  Stafford huffed and turned away.

  I turned back to Gobi. “Sorry, but I was trying to trick King Magnar.”

  “But I told Princess Alba all my secrets.” His face twisted with anguish. “Things I would never tell you.”

  “You did?” I blinked several times, trying to recall what he had said during that dinner. “To be honest, I was more interested in keeping my disguise straight. Sorry.”

  Now Gobi huffed. I glanced at Rufus, who still looked like he wasn’t listening to a word we were saying. Usually, at this point, he would reprimand Gobi and remind him of his manners or to focus on what really mattered. Today, he seemed deep in thought.

  My shoulders drooped. I hoped the quadruplets wouldn’t be as troublesome as Gobi when they got older.

  We rounded the corner and reached the stretch of hallway that led to the mess hall. Instead of the usual cacophony of laughter and loud voices, it was silent. And only the faintest aroma of cooked meats lingered in the air.

  I tilted my head to the side. “Is everyone sleeping in this morning?”

  Two servers clad in homespun tunics stood at the doors with their arms folded. “Classes are canceled, Cadets. Breakfast will be served at the Drogott Arena.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “It’s a trial for the culprits in that plague and loyalty potion business.”

  A rush of warmth flooded my body, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Those alchemists would pay for what they did to us. The last time I checked, Mr. Bacon had recovered from the bulk of his injuries.

  Stafford gasped. “King Magnar, too?”

  Rufus harrumphed. “A public hanging is what he needs. I punched my own brother for being disloyal. It turns out he was trying to save us all.”

  I whirled around. “You bruised Niger’s cheek?”

  Rufus scowled. “The loyalty elixir made me do it.”

  My brows rose. At least that explained why Rufus had been preoccupied. The other day, Albens had pleaded to King Magnar to allow Niger’s punishment to be carried out within the Noble House of Griffon. Rufus was probably feeling guilty for having struck his brother.

  “Come on. Let’s go.” I pulled at Stafford’s arm, and we hurried toward the doors toward the nearest terrace. Rufus and Gobi followed after us. “Hey, Fyri, are you awake?”

  “I am now.” For someone who had nearly drowned the day before, she sounded remarkably alert. “What’s happening?”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Amazing. The healers gave me so many strengthening elixirs. I feel like myself before the plague.”

  I stepped out of the doors into a chamomile-covered terrace and beamed. The morning sun peeked over the mountains like a ball of lemon yellow surrounded by an apricot haze. “That’s great! King Magnar’s getting his trial today. It looks like everyone’s invited.”

  Fyrian growled into our bond. “Where?”

  “Drogott Arena.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I stumbled over a stair-stone. “Wait for us!”

  “Hurry up, then.”

  I relayed Fyrian’s message to the others, and we sprinted up the stairs. By the time we reached her terrace, all the other green dragons had already gone. I supposed they didn’t want to wake her after the events of yesterday. She poked her head out of her stall, revealing freshly polished scales that shone like emeralds. Pristine saddle straps wrapped around the base of her neck.

  “Did the healers buff your scales?” I asked.

  “The groomers probably gave them a clean while I was asleep.” She lowered herself to her belly so we could climb onto her back. As soon as I gave her a pat on the shoulder, she launched herself off the side of the terrace and spread her wings. She glided over the terraces, taking advantage of the rising currents.

  The wind blew through my magically shortened and darkened hair, and I raised my head to the sun. There was nothing like the feel of flying through the air on the back of a dragon.

  I leaned back and grabbed Stafford’s forearm. “Are we still friends?”

  “Of course. Why would you even have to ask?”

  “You seemed annoyed earlier, about… you know.”

  He nodded. “It’s up to you, isn’t it?”

  My shoulders relaxed, and I enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence.

  Gray and silver dragons circled the sandstone arena. The Savannah Sun flags on the parapet I had noticed the last time I’d visited were now gone. According to Fyrian, they directed her to drop off her passengers outside the building. She landed at the huge domed entrance, which emitted the aroma of cooked meat.

  Mouth watering, I scrambled off her back and jogged through the archway. “Thanks for the ride, Fyri. See you in there!”

  Inside, eight griddle stations stretched along the arena’s sandstone vestibule, each creating a wonderful, meat-scented haze. Warriors waited in lines, holding long, flat breakfast rolls already sliced in half. We picked up our rolls from a giant bread bin and waited in line.

  “Do you think we’ve missed the start of the trial?” I asked Rufus.

  “I cannot hear anything,” he replied.

  “Good. We probably arrived early enough to get some breakfast and to catch the start of the show.”

  Rufus grunted. “It will not be a show until King Magnar and his alchemists are flogged or hanged.”

  The other warriors waiting in line turned around to mutter their agreement. I suppose that having fought the homunculi, beaten Mr. Bacon to a charred husk, and gotten multiple chances to either duel, shove, or headbutt King Magnar, I wasn’t feeling quite so bloodthirsty.

  “It should be educational,” I said. “I think Master Roopal will prosecute.”

  “I hope so.” Stafford nibbled at his bread roll. “He’s a great teacher.”

  We moved closer to the front of the line. Eyepatch stood behind a griddle, serving foot-length sausages and massive fried eggs with deep-red yolks. “Orlovi egg? Boar sausage?”

  “Hello, Mr. Cobbs,” I said. “I’ll have the sausage, please.”

  He gave me the warmest smile and placed two sausages into my open roll. “Condiments are on the far table.”

  “Thanks.”

  Stafford asked for sausages and eggs, then he moved onto another griddle station and loaded his breakfast roll with a mysterious minced meat dripping with gravy. I tried not to think of the largomorphus rex, but their bulbous faces filled my mind’s eye.

  “Is that you sending me images of monstrous rabbits?” I asked.

&nb
sp; “Sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t get any breakfast this morning. I doubt that Solum’s lot will let me eat my fill of rabbit rex anymore.”

  “You may not be the mount of the Queen of the Dragons, but at least you’re free.”

  She let out a smoky sigh of relief. “Too true.”

  The condiments at the end of the table turned out to be fried onions, fried tomatoes, chunks of cheese, mustard sauce, and multiple different relishes. Avoiding the relishes that made my eyes water, I settled on a simple, red sauce that looked and smelled like it was just made of tomato. After Rufus and Gobi doctored their two overstuffed rolls, we walked into the arena to eat our breakfast.

  “This way,” said Rufus. “I smell my brothers.”

  My heart skipped a beat, and I hurried after him. We walked around the arena to a spot opposite the royal box but close to the stage at the bottom. Two auburn-haired males who looked like Griffon brothers flicked their heads at us in acknowledgment, but there was no sign of Niger.

  One of them stood, his chestnut eyes shining with mischief. His long hair and beard were pulled back from his face into a knot at the top of his head. “Hey, Bluford, sorry for dragging you on stage the other day. You and your dragons put on a great show.”

  Nodding, I suppressed the urge to grimace. The less I thought of that tournament, the better.

  “That’s Brunus,” said Rufus. “He plays defense.”

  I made the mistake of offering him my hand, which he squeezed so hard, my stomach twisted in sympathy.

  The other Griffon brother jumped to his feet. This one had verdant, green eyes. The sides of his head were shaved with the rest of his hair in a single braid that ran from hairline to the nape of his neck. “Virens. Reserve goalkeeper.”

  I held my breakfast roll with both hands to avoid getting my knuckles crushed. “Nice to meet you both.”

  Virens snickered and clapped me hard on the back, making me lurch forward. “Nice work on foiling King Magnar!”

  I sat at the end of the row next to Stafford, leaving a space free in case Niger arrived. Shortly afterward, one of the servers wheeled a cart containing barrels of ale. Brunus and Virens, who had already eaten, brought up a tray of foaming tankards.