Dragon Mage Academy Box Set

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Dragon Mage Academy Box Set Page 127

by Cordelia Castel


  “What?” she asked.

  “Remember Albens’ duplication trick he demonstrated at Magnar’s sky commander tournament? I’ll bet Gladius could do that.” I blew out a long breath. “Whose side are you on?”

  Gladius’s pale eyes narrowed. “You cannot tell?”

  “I know you want to protect dragons, but what if the spriggans wake the Forgotten King?”

  “I choose the dragons, of course,” he snapped. “If I am strong enough to kill the Queen of the Fairies, then I am strong enough to kill the King.”

  “You wish to rule us?” asked Master Fosco.

  Gladius paused and wrapped an arm around his middle. I bit down hard on my bottom lip and tightened my fingers around the Lightning Rod, in case he did something rash. He might be the oldest and the most powerful dragon, but he wasn’t the sanest. The wild dragon also didn’t seem to understand the notion of working with others unless it was to kill spriggans.

  I clasped a hand over my mouth. He’d been banished because the fairies had deemed him too dangerous to live. What if he stormed their realm and tried to get revenge?

  A tense silence stretched out. Dragons landed around us, only to transform into men. I gulped, recognizing Masters Torreo and Aurelius among the males.

  “They’re getting ready to battle,” said Fyrian.

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. Gladius needs to understand that Master Fosco earned Mount Fornax for winning the Great Dragon Revolution. It doesn’t belong to a newcomer who’s he’s the oldest or the strongest.”

  “Calm yourself, Fairy,” said a male voice. “I have no interest in ruling.”

  My head snapped up, and I glared into the wild dragon’s eyes. “Why don’t you tell them that instead of leaving them all in suspense.”

  “Tell us what?” asked Master Fosco.

  “I came with your tamers out of interest, but now, I will stay to rid the world of the scourge that is the spriggans.”

  “And the Forgotten King?” asked Master Roopal.

  Gladius sniffed. “If he is still banished, I will not disturb him. My powers were never tested against a powerful high fairy.”

  “What will you do when you have killed the spriggans?” I asked.

  “You can’t continue terrorizing people in the Unknown Continent,” said Master Solum.

  The wild dragon spread his arms. “I didn’t know I could transform until I saw Fosco do it. It will be easy enough for me to roam the earth in this form.”

  “You’ll leave?” I asked.

  “But not before I’ve reduced the spriggans to ash.” Gladius turned to me. “Come, Fairy and None-Of-Your-Business. We have an attack to plan.”

  END OF BOOK SIX

  Patron of Dragons

  Dragon Mage Academy Book Seven

  Chapter 1

  Had I just escaped a painful death, or had the wild dragon been bluffing? It was hard to tell, but at least he had redirected his fury at the real enemy of the dragons. My feet sank into the soft earth of the banks of the Great Lake, as I stood by Fyrian’s side, still breathless from our recent ordeal.

  The wild dragon paced up and down the lakeside in his human form, arms exposed from having burned the sleeves of his stolen cloak. Moonlight bounced off his pale skin and long, platinum hair, making him appear like a specter. I ran my fingertips down my throat, still feeling the heat of his anger on my skin. If it hadn’t been for my bond with Fyrian, he probably would have killed me.

  A few feet away at the lakeside stood dozens of males in varying outfits. Some, like Master Fosco, wore leather armor, while others wore homespun tunics and breeches. Master Torreo also stood among them, clad in his chef whites and chaperon. Each stared at the wild dragon as though he was the biggest threat to Mount Fornax since the spriggan who had stolen the dragon’s eggs.

  I gave Fyrian a nudge through the bond. “If Master Fosco’s here, who’s guarding Asproceros?”

  “Phoenix and the witches, maybe?” Fyrian dipped her snout to the lake and took a few sips of water. “They should execute him before he pulls out another surprise from his breeches.”

  The wild dragon stopped pacing and said out loud, “None-Of-Your-Business makes an excellent point.”

  I glanced up at Fyrian. She glanced down at me with eyes that burned like crimson flames. What was he talking about?

  Master Fosco stepped forward, arms folded across his chest. “And what point is that?”

  The wild dragon gave him a cold stare. “You should tend to the ogre who upset the peace of your dragon preserve, not stand around gaping at me.”

  Master Fosco bared lengthened teeth at the wild dragon. It might have been my imagination, but his fingernails sharpened, too. The other male puffed out his chest and raised his chin in the kind of challenge I’d only ever seen in packs of smilodons about to fight for dominance. Growls filled the air, both from the two males and from the others about the lake, who backed up Master Fosco’s position as their leader.

  Gulping, I edged closer to Fyrian. “If a fight of dominance breaks out, I’m not going to be in the cross-fire.”

  “Get on my back,” said Fyrian. “I’ll fly us out if things get violent.”

  A hand landed on my shoulder. I turned to find Stafford standing with Evolene, Rufus, and Gobi. Muti and the others weren’t far behind. They had all walked from the direction of the one-story reception buildings behind us, which now shimmered in the moonlight.

  “What’s going on?” whispered Stafford. “One minute, Master Fosco was about to flame Asproceros, then the next, he disappeared, taking the other masters with him.”

  I jerked my head at the platinum-haired male. “Remember my theory about the wild dragon being behind the attacks? There’s the proof.”

  Stafford gaped, his eyes wide, jaw slack. “He changed shape and slipped through the bars?”

  “The spaces were large enough for a man to escape. He taught himself to transform after seeing Master Fosco do it.”

  Stafford whistled. “That’s amazing. What’s his name?”

  The wild dragon broke eye contact with Master Fosco. “Gladius.” His voice echoed along the shoreline as he answered the question for me. “Will you fight by my side against the spriggans, young Friend-Of-The-Fairy?”

  Stafford straightened. “Y-yes, sir. A-and you can call me Stafford, sir!”

  Gladius inclined his head. “I look forward to fighting with you.”

  Master Fosco closed the distance between himself and Gladius, fury blazing in his maroon eyes like banked coals. The master dragons followed behind him, each with their hands on their sword belts. Gladius growled low in his throat. I drew in a sharp breath through my nostrils. Even though the male had taken on the appearance of a human, it was to sneak about the mountain to enact vengeance against those he believed had wronged the dragons around Mount Fornax. He probably didn’t know much about human customs, like fighting with words and not claws.

  I inched toward Fyrian and rested my hand on her warm, scaly foreleg. It didn’t matter that Gladius was the first dragon and possibly more powerful than the others. He was outnumbered, and if he didn’t stop ignoring them and acting like they were unimportant, they might gang up on him and beat him up.

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” said Fyrian. “I hate to see dragons fighting like this when the real enemy is so close.”

  “True.” Within the past moon, the spriggans had coerced King Magnar’s sisters into getting Evolene arrested just to lure me into a trap. They had also told King Magnar to bring me to them in exchange for the safety of one of his sisters. It was obvious they needed me for something to do with raising the Forgotten King. A spriggan had all but invited me to join their ranks when we had met fighting the Savannah Empire troops at the border hills over the stolen eggs. “If Gladius wants to go out and save the dragons, the others shouldn’t interfere.”

  Master Fosco stopped six inches away from Gladius. With his muscular, leather-clad physique, he looked like he c
ould crush the thinner, paler male. “My students will not go to war against spriggans.”

  Gladius snarled, baring his sharpened teeth. “These children are far braver than the cowardly dragons who hide behind the magic of witches!”

  “Ummmm.” Evolene stepped out from Stafford’s side.

  “What is it, young witch?” asked Gladius.

  “W-we’re making a poison to k-kill the spriggans, but i-it isn’t ready yet.”

  Heart thrumming with determination, I stepped away from Fyrian toward the two males glaring into each other’s eyes. If Evolene was brave enough to interrupt them, so was I. “We were planning on going to Savannah and killing the spriggans before they got a chance to resurrect the Forgotten King.”

  Gladius turned his head. “Indeed?”

  Evolene wrung her hands. “C-can’t we wait until the poison’s ready before going to war? Th-that way, we have a better chance of winning against their magic.”

  White light flashed in his pale eyes, like a flare of the hottest kind of flame. With a quiet whimper, Evolene scuttled back to Stafford’s side. He wrapped an arm around her and murmured words of comfort.

  “Stop doing that,” I snapped.

  Gladius glared at me. “Doing what, Fairy?”

  I strode forward, limbs powered by the fires of indignation rushing through my veins. It was one thing to act tough when surrounded by dragons of similar strength, but another to try to intimidate an innocent witch who was just trying to help. Stopping three feet away from the wild dragon, I said, “Stop trying to dominate everyone with your expressions. There’s only one enemy, and that’s the spriggans.”

  The hardness in his eyes softened a little. “When is this poison ready?”

  “Th-three days,” Evolene squeaked.

  I turned to Master Fosco. “And do cadets get time off to visit family?”

  He hesitated as though wanting to forbid us from leaving the mountain to fight with Gladius. I narrowed my eyes. How many times had we saved Mount Fornax? I was about to remind him of the promise of assistance he’d extracted from me after I’d found the stolen dragon eggs, when his posture sagged. “There is a holiday on the full moon.”

  I nodded. “That gives us two weeks to put the poison in receptacles, gather volunteers, and learn the location of the spriggans.”

  Master Roopal stepped out of the crowd of dragon masters. The older, silver-haired male swept his single arm to the side. “Perhaps we can discuss war plans in a more relaxing environment? We can have some largomorphus steaks sent up to the mess hall. They’re delicious.”

  Gladius grunted his agreement. “When do I meet King Magnar?”

  Master Fosco snarled. “You cannot kill him. The wretched boy is protected by diplomatic immunity and owes us too much in reparations to die.”

  “If he leads me to the spriggans, I will not harm him,” snapped Gladius.

  “He’s guarding the black dragonets,” I said.

  With a sharp nod, Master Fosco disappeared.

  I turned to Fyrian. “Sorry, it looks like you can’t come along.”

  Annoyance flickered in her crimson eyes. “How typical of Fosco to think a young dragon can’t contribute to war plans.”

  “Worry not,” said a male voice into our bond. “The Fairy and I will tell you what they’re saying, and I will relay your messages to the cowardly dragons.”

  Fyrian tossed her head and leaped into the skies, leaving a gust of wind that blew my magically shortened hair into my face.

  I clenched my teeth and turned to Gladius. “Could you please stay out of our bond?”

  “How else am I supposed to find out what you and None-Of-Your-Business are planning?” he asked.

  Huffing a breath at the dragon’s shameless excuse, I followed after the group of master dragons away from the Great Lake. Behind them, Gladius strolled alongside me as though his attempt to snuff out my life had made us friends.

  The male stood only a few inches taller than me with a build nearly as slender as my glamored form. If it wasn’t for the platinum hair and pale eyes, he would look like a slightly better-fed human. I glanced at the burned armholes of his thick, black cloak. Earlier in the week, a seven-foot-tall warrior had complained that his friend had stolen his favorite cloak. I supposed Gladius had taken it after teaching himself to transform into a man.

  The procession of dragon masters and cadets walked in silence around the Great Lake, over the lawn, and toward the edge of the mountain’s plateau. Every so often, one of the dragon masters would turn around and eye Gladius.

  “Did you get to mix with the other dragons in the realm of the fairies?” I asked.

  “The King Who Must Be Forgotten made me first,” Gladius replied. “It took him years to perfect me from animal parts and to mold my abilities with magic. He was going to make me a mate but a spriggan suggested that two powerful and intelligent creatures could rise up against him. That was when he made the colored dragons and limited their abilities.”

  I glanced at the dragon masters descending the stairs. Moonlight highlighted their assorted hair colors. There were shades of black and brown, blond and gold, white and silver, green, blue, red, and purple, each representing the color of their scales. Flocks of dragon moths danced and swirled around their heads, but the masters paid them no mind.

  “Were you made of gold?” I asked.

  “No. The gold was the magic-proof armor the spriggans stuck to my scales. It was to prevent the Queen of the Fairies and their guards from stopping me when I attacked with my black flames.” He dipped his head.

  As we descended the sandstone stairs side-by-side, I asked, “Black flames?”

  “My most powerful attack,” replied Gladius. “It would destroy the magic of a fairy and stop them from regenerating. The King wanted to reduce his wife into an unmovable husk. Still alive but unable to speak, move, or absorb the ambient magic. A most accursed state.”

  At the bottom of the staircase, we crossed a terrace of long stalks of dragon mint that released their menthol scent with every step. Gladius inhaled loudly and sighed. “Mount Fornax is a paradise compared to the realm of the fairies.”

  Up ahead, Masters Solum and Roopal turned and smiled. Master Roopal said, “There is space for all dragons here. You should consider that after you have destroyed the spriggans.”

  I glanced at Gladius. It must have been terrible to have been kept in captivity away from the other dragons and then buried deep into the earth after the fall of the Forgotten King. Perhaps he would consider Master Roopal’s offer and not wander the earth as he had suggested.

  We reached the mess hall. The warm, rich scent of spiced beef filled the air. In the middle of the room, chefs served meatballs the size of an ogre’s fists. All the laughter and chatter died down at the sight of so many dragons together in human form. I shifted on my feet a little, stomach twingeing at the attention.

  The dragon masters headed to the far left of the room where the head table had been arranged into a square of tables around a barbacoa grill of red, ash-covered coals. My brows rose. Master Fosco had probably stopped here before setting off to find King Magnar and asked for this arrangement. Servers carried platters of raw steaks and placed them at each place setting.

  Master Roopal turned to Gladius. “Is this to your liking?”

  The wild dragon grunted. “I have never eaten this kind of food before.”

  “Follow our leads.” Master Fosco’s voice came from behind.

  I turned. Next to him stood a wide-eyed King Magnar and two smaller, blond males holding witch’s staffs. A huff escaped my lungs, and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. His sisters weren’t fooling anyone with that disguise.

  “Do you think anyone has noticed his sisters?” asked Fyrian.

  “They’re all too busy looking at Gladius,” I replied.

  “Why must female warriors disguise themselves?” asked Gladius into our bond. “Do males restrict them?”

  “Stop eavesdropp
ing,” snapped Fyrian.

  “How else am I supposed to learn about the bond between a dragon and their warrior?” Gladius lowered himself into the nearest seat. “Despite there being a Council of Dragons, the fairy seems to be the center of all activity here on Mount Fornax.” He pulled me down to sit next to him.

  The warmth from the barbacoa coals engulfed me, and a flush heated my cheeks. “That isn’t exactly true. And stay out of our bond. We’re not going to plot against you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  King Magnar rushed to my side, his turquoise eyes bright with hope. “May I sit next to you, Cadet Bluford?”

  I shrugged. “You may as well, considering you’re going to tell us where to find the spriggans.”

  The first of the dragons tossed a largomorphus steak onto the barbacoa, splattering of marinade over the coals. Hot, spicy smoke rose into the air, making my eyes water. I blinked several times to clear my vision and drew away from King Magnar who scrambled into the seat to my right.

  Gladius leaned across me and narrowed his eyes. “This is the man who enslaved the dragons?”

  Paling, King Magnar shrank away, folding his arms across his chest. “I have been tried and punished for taking advantage of the loyalty elixir. A-and I have diplomatic immunity.”

  “I don’t think a dragon who’s been living in the Unknown Continent cares about that sort of thing.” I shouldered Gladius back to his side of the table. “Just tell us where we can find the spriggans.”

  Around us, the other dragons took their seats, leaving a space next to Gladius for Master Fosco. King Magnar’s disguised sisters sat at a nearby table, training their staffs at their older brother. Stafford, Evolene, Muti and the other cadets sat with them and shifted their seats to eavesdrop. I turned around and sent them a wistful smile, wishing I was sitting with them, instead of between King Magnar and the wild dragon.

  “The spriggans were your allies, yes?” Gladius asked King Magnar.

  His lips tightened, and indignation flashed across his face. “I only met one, and he tricked me into giving him six favors in exchange for saving the lives of my six sisters.”

 

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