Dragon Mage Academy Box Set

by Cordelia Castel

“Evolene Galloway.”

  At the old ogre’s blank look, Master Roopal leaned in and said in a loud whisper, “The young witch arrested for consorting with Master Jesper. She was also part of a conspiracy to abduct Cadet Bluford and have a dragon executed for a non-existent murder.”

  My lips tightened, and I fought back the urge to give the dragon master a filthy look.

  “You should shame them,” said Fyrian. “If I can forgive Evolene for letting me nearly get executed, so can they!”

  “Yes.” I raised my voice. “Evolene is the witch who helped Master Jesper save you all from the elixir that made everyone loyal to King Magnar. Because of Evolene’s actions, no-one ended up invading Savannah, and no one got captured by spriggans, and no-one got used to awaken the Forgotten King.”

  Silence stretched out, broken by the occasional splash of a tentacle into the broth. I balled my fists, placed my hands on my hips, and surveyed the mess hall. Fyrian was right. Not a single one of these ingrates had lifted a finger to help Evolene, even though she’d risked everything to save them.

  When I was sure I’d captured their attention, I announced, “Evolene deserves another chance.”

  The Magistratus tapped his claws on the table, seeming deep in thought. I kept my eyes on him, not wanting my resolve to waver by looking at Father’s expression.

  At last, the Magistratus spoke. “It is my understanding that the young witch’s probation in Mount Fornax was her opportunity for redemption.”

  “And look at how she redeemed herself.” I spread my arms wide. “Evolene saved us all. How do you think Steppe would fare with the most wicked dark fairy on the loose? He would release all his minions to wreak havoc on the Known World and enslave the dragons again.”

  The Magistratus rubbed the base of his horn and furrowed his brow.

  “Keep talking!” said Fyrian.

  “Evolene’s actions stopped all that from happening. And we need someone like her to help keep us safe.”

  “Hmmmm….” said the Magistratus.

  Words dried up in my throat. Everything I said should have convinced him already to order the Witch General to give Evolene another chance. I searched the dredges of my mind for something to say. “What about Her Majesty, who’s in no position to protect herself? Evolene’s actions saved her, too.”

  “You tell them!” said Fyrian.

  “That is enough,” said Father through clenched teeth.

  I ignored him and turned to the Magistratus. “If you think riots and locusts are bad for the country, imagine what the spriggans will do once they’ve awoken their master? Don’t you think Evolene deserves recognition for what she did?”

  Mutterings finally broke out among the warriors, and my heart soared. At last, people were starting to appreciate her contribution to saving everyone.

  The Magistratus examined his claws. “I doubt that one untrained witch made the difference to Master Jesper’s efforts.”

  “She did,” said Master Jesper from behind. “Without the help of Cadets Bluford, Perrault and Griffon, we would never have found and processed the ingredients for the antidote. Madam Evolene protected me and the trio with her unique brand of magic, and she also risked her life putting the antidote in the weathervane to cure Mount Fornax of its madness.”

  The Magistratus scratched the base of his right horn. “What say you, Roopal? Can you vouch for this young witch?”

  I held my breath. Even if Master Roopal said no, I could call on others in the mess hall who knew her. The silver-haired dragon master was about to answer when a sharp, female voice cut through the mutterings. “What is the meaning of this?”

  I turned to meet the frigid eyes of the Witch General. My stomach dropped. This was the woman who had spent a century in Tundra, using her life-force to maintain the Snow Queen’s banishment. A direct descendant of Queen Hyosus the Great, Aunt Cendrilla’s maternal grandmother. Something writhed deep within my gut. I’d potentially made an enemy of the most influential witch in the Known World.

  “If you back down now, you’d never forgive yourself,” said Fyrian.

  My spine straightened, and I pulled back my shoulders. “Evolene deserves an appeal.”

  She stalked through the mess hall, hair glowing as bright as crimson flames, with her black, patchwork cloak floating behind her like a flying carpet. “What gives you the right to petition the Magistratus and the Prince Regent when all witches of Steppe are under my jurisdiction?”

  My heart flip-flopped.

  “Notice how she didn’t mention that stupid bargain she got the cadet to make with Stafford?” asked Fyrian. “Something is off about this situation.”

  The mess hall fell silent again, and I calmed my breathing. Having a dragon in my head was fantastic.

  I pushed my shoulders back. “When all the witches were incapacitated with an elixir that mimicked a plague, Evolene was the only one available to save the day. It’s because her childhood was so deprived, she was denied sweet things and can’t eat desserts.”

  The Witch General flicked her wrist. “That is of no consequence.”

  Anger exploded across my veins at her dismissal. “It is! You’re punishing her for things she was forced to do as a little girl, yet this same background was what made the difference when the alchemists struck.”

  “Yes,” snapped Fyrian. “She can’t have things both ways!”

  “The child raises an interesting theory,” said the Magistratus.

  The Witch General’s lips thinned. “If we made allowances for every witch under probation, there would be no discipline. Our laws are in place to protect witches from turning bad. Just look at how people kept making allowances for the Snow Queen.”

  “I understand your point.” The Magistratus nodded and picked up an ivory goblet the exact size and shape of his massive horn. “However, it might be argued that Master Jesper has served its sentence and received a pardon for its acts. And the so-called second crime of consorting took place in Mount Fornax, outside your jurisdiction—”

  “Witches are my jurisdiction!” she shouted.

  The Magistratus inclined his head. “Politically, Mount Fornax is a territory of the Savannah Empire.”

  “You intend to flout centuries of witch laws to please the whims of a child?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Fyrian said, “Let the Magistratus do the arguing for you.”

  My jaws clicked shut.

  The Magistratus slammed his goblet down like a gavel. “I rule that Evolene Galloway is returned to stand trial in Mount Fornax among those she rescued. This may take place after the sentencing of King Magnar. What say you, Master Fosco?”

  “I have no problem with this,” he said.

  A long, relieved breath whooshed out of my lungs, and Stafford clasped my shoulder. This was better than getting her exiled to Tundra. A real trial, along with time for us to prepare, meant she would get the chance to prove her innocence.

  “You don’t understand, Magistratus,” said the Witch General. “The magic of justice has commenced, and we cannot remove the criminal from her cell.”

  Master Jesper stepped forward. “May I suggest you banish Madam Evolene instead of taking her magic?”

  The senior witch sagged. “It’s not that simple. After the Snow Queen broke her banishment, the witches of Steppe grouped together to reform our justice system. The first time a witch is imprisoned, the wards register her magic as a potential threat. The second time, the wards prepare a space to devour her magic whole.”

  Gasping, I clapped my hand over my mouth.

  The Witch General turned to me. “This isn’t common knowledge, but we reinforced our rules with Magicae Mortiferum. It allows for no third chances. Evolene’s magic must feed our wards or every being involved in the Magical Militia loses their power… Including Her Majesty!”

  Chapter 10

  The Witch General’s words hit like a boulder, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I had always thought saving Evolene would be
a matter of appealing to a higher authority to force the Witch General’s hand, but no one could fight Magicae Mortiferum.

  “Alba!” Fyrian sent a wave of power through our bond. “Take hold of yourself before you fall.”

  Widening my stance to steady myself, I gulped several mouthfuls of air.

  “What is this enchantment?” asked Master Fosco.

  It was Master Jesper who answered. “Think of the Magical Militia as a suit of dragon-proof armor consisting of fireproof leather, silk, fastenings, and thread. A fine piece of work and fully functional until it is tested by fire. Magicae Mortiferum is the magic that fills the tiny spaces in the seams and bridges the gap between one garment and the next, protecting its wearer from harm.”

  “I didn’t understand a word of that,” said Fyrian.

  “It’s a powerful piece of magic that backs up the Militia’s rules,” I replied. “If it’s violated, everyone linked to it suffers.”

  She was silent for a moment. In a small voice, she said, “Evolene’s going to end up like that snowman, isn’t she?”

  There was no good answer to a question like that.

  Most of the warriors continued with their meals, and the noise and chatter resumed. I supposed their curiosity had been satisfied. With threats in the form of King Calder and the Forgotten King, nobody would dare suggest the witches lose their power to save Evolene’s life.

  I turned to the Witch General. “How could you have backed up your rules with such absolute magic?”

  The older witch shook her head. “Those who wield the greatest power must subject themselves to the greatest restrictions. Our laws are stringent and backed by magic to prevent us from taking advantage of loopholes or extenuating circumstances.”

  “This is my fault,” said Stafford. “If I hadn’t tried to grab her from the royal box, she wouldn’t have been sent to the Magical Militia.”

  The Witch General’s eyes softened. “I judged her rashly, but witches who maintain corrupting influences end up corrupting their magic. Such rules were put in place to prevent the formation of the next terrible power such as the Snow Queen.”

  I glanced from Father to the Magistratus, who both stared back at me with solemn eyes. A lump formed in my throat, and I gulped. “Is that it? Can nothing be done for Evolene?”

  The Magistratus exhaled a long, weary sight. “In such matters, not even I can intervene.”

  “Master Roopal,” I asked. “What about—”

  “No.”

  “But you don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

  He raised his hand. “Any interference from dragons will be deemed as an act of war. Things are already tenuous between Steppe and Mount Fornax. Until King Magnar grants the reversal of the magical oaths made to grant him sovereignty over us, we cannot act.”

  I ground my teeth. There had to be something we hadn’t considered. A way to save Evolene without making the witches and Aunt Cendrilla lose their magic.

  “We need another snowman,” said Fyrian.

  “That’s what I’m thinking, too,” I replied.

  “Can we not banish Madam Evolene?” Master Jesper produced the sphere of magic it had extracted from the snowman squash. “Here. Take my magic. We can add this and a small part of her power into a similar vessel to satisfy the wards.”

  Stafford nodded. “Send her away.”

  The Witch General plucked the glass ball of magic from the troll’s hands and studied it. “The wards have taken the measure of Evolene’s magic and will require the full amount by Saturn’s Day.”

  “But once you’ve fed them my magic, surely it will only take a portion of Madam Evolene’s?”

  I nodded. Master Jesper’s plan was brilliant.

  She rubbed at her temples. “The wards require the quantity and quality of the magic registered when she entered. You can’t fool it by giving it an alternative.”

  Master Jesper stretched out its hand. “Then I will require the return of my magic.”

  The Witch General slipped the sphere into her pocket. “I can’t in conscience give you back the magic you stole from innocent witches. This will feed the wards.”

  I opened my mouth to protest and closed it. Even though Master Jesper was a good person now, countless witches had died at the hands of trolls to supply them with witches’ magic. I had to focus on Evolene instead. It was Wodan’s Day evening now, so we had all of Thor’s Day and Frigg’s Day to think of a way to save Evolene.

  “But you can’t let her die,” Stafford croaked.

  The Magistratus raised a palm. “The matter is settled. This is not a subject to be prolonged over dinner.”

  Master Jesper placed a massive hand on both our shoulders. “Come, Cadets. We gain nothing from continuing this conversation.”

  A protest formed on my lips, but at the piercing stare of the Witch General, it shriveled to a husk.

  “Go with Jesper,” said Fyrian. “It might have a plan.”

  Master Jesper turned us around, and we walked away from the head table with the speed of a trio of condemned prisoners. I had no faith that Master Jesper had thought up another plan. Its idea to throw an avatar into the wards had been brilliant but shot down by the Witch General. There was no way Evolene could fill an avatar with all her magic before Saturn’s Day without dying.

  As we passed through the wards of the mess hall, a shudder ran down my spine. I’d known that wards assessed a person’s magic. That was how they knew who to let in and keep out, but it had never occurred to me that they could measure its capacity.

  Outside, the air swirled with a fresh breeze. All traces of sunlight had disappeared, and stars twinkled in an indigo sky. I continued along the grassy terrace, lowering my head to avoid a flock of dragon moths hovering above.

  “Bluford!” Niger ran down the terrace after us. “I heard you were going to—”

  “Cadet Griffon,” said Master Jesper. “Let us not discuss anything until we reach the laboratory.”

  I slowed my steps, allowing Niger to catch up, and we walked side-by-side, making sure to brush hands at every opportunity. He had probably heard the entire conversation and wanted to help.

  As soon as the door to the laboratory clicked shut, I asked Master Jesper, “Didn’t you learn about the rules backed by the Magicae Mortiferum while you were in the Magical Militia?” I asked.

  Master Jesper bristled. “They didn’t exactly grant me library access from my cell.”

  “Sorry.” I gave myself a mental cuff on the head. The troll had been stuck there as a prisoner, not a scholar. “I wish Evolene was here. She knows all about wards.”

  The troll straightened. “I may not have Madam Evolene’s practical experience on the subject, but my theoretical knowledge of wards is extensive. What do you wish to know?”

  “The Witch General said the wards needed all of Evolene’s magic by Saturn’s Day. Could we make her an avatar?”

  “I was thinking along those lines. The trouble is being able to fill a snowman squash with the required amount of magic without killing her.”

  “What if I donated some of mine and you glamoured it to feel like Evolene’s?”

  Master Jesper shook its head. “You would have been an ideal candidate, as your power is vast due to your bond with Fyrian, but your magic is far too unique to even begin to disguise.”

  “All right.” My shoulders deflated, and I exhaled my disappointment through my nostrils.

  “It was worth a try,” said Fyrian.

  “I suppose.”

  “What about atmospheric magic?” asked Niger.

  “An excellent suggestion, but very few beings or substances are able to absorb it.”

  “Dragons can,” he replied. “That is how they move from one stage of development to another.”

  Master Jesper hesitated. “Does anybody know how dragons absorb magic?”

  “Do you know?” I asked Fyrian.

  “Through our scales, I think,” she replied. “But we might inhale
it. Or both. Sorry, it’s not something I learned from sneaking about as a dragonet.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I nodded. “We’ve got Healing tomorrow. If anyone knows about the stages of dragon development, it will be Dr. Duclair.”

  Stafford moaned. His face was the color of diluted milk. Sweat poured down his brows. “We should be planning her escape, not standing around talking.”

  Master Jesper pursed its lips. “Cadets Bluford, why don’t you go out for a walk while I try to reason with Cadet Perrault?”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  Niger grabbed my arm. “I have something to show you.”

  Niger and I walked into the star-lit night over the terraces and around to a part of the mountain filled with gnarled olive trees whose silver leaves glinted in the moonlight. Soft, sulfur-scented snores filled the silence, adding to the air of mystery. Up ahead on the terrace stood two olive trees that twisted around each other like two embracing snakes.

  “What’s this place?” I asked.

  “The olive grove. We are a few floors away from where Flavo and the other yellows dwell. This is the kyssan tree.”

  I tilted my head to the side. It was a peculiar name. The lightning tree I’d seen last week had probably been struck at least a dozen times, earning its name. “Why’s this one called kyssan?”

  “It looks like a courting couple,” he replied.

  My cheeks heated. “Oh.”

  Niger wrapped an arm around my waist, which made my heart spasm, and not in a damsel denial way. He murmured, “Come on. There is a seat around the back.”

  The kyssan tree bent and twisted at the roots, forming ample space for a dozen courting couples. Niger sat first on a section with a decent backrest, pulled me down next to him, and raised his brows in some kind of question.

  Clasping my hands together, I stared into my lap and sighed.

  “What is wrong, Princess?”

  “I’m worried about Stafford. He’s going to do something rash.”

  Niger took one of my hands. “Master Jesper will take care of him.”

  “Do you think so?”