Questionable Rescue (Magical Arts Academy Book 5)

by Lucia Ashta

“Vabu?” I called again. There was no answer. I didn’t make out any footsteps but my own above the growing sound of the water.

  I didn’t find the count, but I did finally find the waterway. It was wide enough to be a creek or a smallish river, and it would suit my navigation purposes just fine. Thankfully, the bank was mostly smooth and free of rocks and pebbles, and it made for rapid progress.

  As quickly as I could, I followed the river away from the town, and toward what I assumed must be Miranda’s den. I regularly called out for Vabu, without success, until it finally dawned on me that he was a vampire—a vampire—and though I still knew next to nothing about the legendary creatures, I’d seen him shift into a bat in a few seconds.

  The logical thing to do for a wizard, who happened to be a vampire, would be to shift into bat form so that he could see in the fading light and make quick work of covering the distance to Priscilla. From my understanding, bats navigated the darkness well and flew fast.

  The realization that such an obvious conclusion had escaped me for so long made me worry as to what else I might be missing. And should I even continue this path if Count Vabu was now likely to be so far ahead of me? Even with the enhanced hearing of a bat, he wasn’t responding to my constant calls.

  My pace faltered. I almost stopped walking entirely. Maybe I should sit at the water’s edge to think a while, until I figured out what was best.

  I paused long enough to look around me and notice how little I could make out. It had gone from dusk to night faster than anticipated. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere in the dark. I gulped, and my feet resumed their walk almost without my instruction.

  Perhaps Count Vabu would take a few moments to gather himself before he charged in to rescue his sister. Or maybe I’d catch up with him before he got there. He was a bat, but I was still walking pretty fast considering I could barely see while following a waterway across unknown land, heading toward the lair of the sorceress I’d only just managed to escape.

  I picked up the pace, half running across a combination of packed dirt and sand, skipping over protruding tree roots and the occasional rock.

  I can do this. It’s no big deal. I’m just outdoors, that’s all, and the outdoors is no scarier at night than in the daytime. Just then an owl shrieked. Yeah, right. The outdoors is way scarier when it’s dark. I swallowed. And I’m all alone.

  How on earth had I ended up in this situation? I couldn’t make sense of it.

  I portaled. The thought hit me like a slap to the face.

  I was racing to try to get Count Vabu to portal me back to the academy, when I had portal magic. Yeah, but you believed you were going to die when you last portaled.

  I hadn’t regulated my magic properly, apparently. I had no more knowledge of how to do that now than I did then.

  I’d never felt worse than I did after portaling—heck, I was still supposed to be recovering from it!

  But... if I didn’t find the count soon, I’d have to consider it. No matter how little confidence I had in my portaling skills, it would have to be an option—even if this next time I might not wake up from the experience. What else could I do?

  I wouldn’t walk myself right to Miranda’s front door, assuming I could locate it—and I had the feeling I could. I’d escaped her once. It wasn’t likely that I’d manage to do it again.

  All right. I had a plan—kind of. I’d walk a bit farther, hoping to find the count and have him portal me back to the school.

  If I didn’t find him, I’d take the risk, and do it myself.

  What could go wrong? So many things.

  I grimaced, and made my feet keep moving toward the one place I’d hoped never to return to.

  Chapter 10

  I’d walked long enough in the dark. The creatures of the night were loud and omnipresent, shrieking and rustling, rattling my nerves beyond the point of reason.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I hadn’t found Count Vabu, nor encountered any kind of evidence that suggested I was catching up to him.

  He must’ve transformed into a bat and flown far beyond where I was. For all I knew, he’d already rescued Priscilla and was back at the academy, only there realizing I was missing.

  That thought perked me right up. Maybe all I had to do was wait. Once Vabu returned and confirmed I wasn’t with him, surely the team would come to rescue me... assuming they could find me. Also assuming the count survived his confrontation with Miranda and her minions.

  No, there were too many uncertainties, I couldn’t just wait for someone to come rescue me. And thanks to the long-skirted dress decorum dictated I wear, I was splendidly unprepared to traipse around the wilderness. Tree limbs and brambles had snagged on my skirts enough times to guarantee that my dress would no longer hold up to manor standards.

  I’d slowed my pace. The water seemed to have no end in sight. It connected to Miranda’s place, sure, but who knew how far away it was from where I stood?

  I was tired of walking. Every bit of me ached from weariness and exhaustion, my mind especially. It was completely unnerving not to know what was best to do when so much was at risk—namely, me. I was fond of living, and I was especially fond of living free of a wicked sorceress’ dungeon or any other confinement that might befall me if I was discovered out here alone.

  Before I was aware that I’d made a decision, my feet stopped moving. One moment they plodded along, just as they had for hours, and the next they stilled. In a daze of sorts, it took me a full minute to process that I was no longer moving and that the time for action had arrived.

  I was too tired to question myself any longer. I was going to portal myself back to the academy, and hope that the force of my unregulated magic wouldn’t tear me to bits. Being torn to bits wasn’t in my plan for the night.

  Maybe I can take a little break first, maybe even close my eyes for a few minutes. I was so tired, mostly from the weight of the responsibility I now carried. I’d never been wholly responsible for my well-being before. Mamá and Papá had always taken care of me, and when they left for the Americas, Nando took their place. I wished any of them were here to tell me what to do.

  But I was totally alone.

  I felt myself start to descend into a pity party, and snapped to attention. No, no pity, and no resting. Get to the estate and be done with this!

  I nodded to myself, encouraged. This was wholly up to me. If there was anything good to this, it was that at least if I failed I wouldn’t be letting anyone but myself down. Sure, Nando would miss me, and he’d probably be crushed for a long while. But he was resilient; he’d bounce back and, with me gone, any chance that I’d hurt him with my botched magic would be gone too.

  I could tell I was delaying what I had to do, and I knew myself well enough to predict that, if I allowed it, I would procrastinate all night long until dawn... and sunrise was a long time away.

  No, I have to do this now. Before I could come up with more excuses—I was so tired of thinking—I stood facing the water and held my hands out to my sides the way I’d seen Mordecai do whenever he was performing a spell. I’d never seen him do portal magic—no one had mentioned he was one of the magicians who could do it—but I’d have to take my cues from wherever I could.

  Now, what was that spell again? Priscilla had told it to us, but I’d been under duress, and I hadn’t even remembered it properly the first time around. Maybe that was why my portaling magic hit me so hard; I hadn’t spoken the spell correctly.

  But then I remembered that Madame Pimlish had taught us that we could make up our own spells, with our unique twists. Once they worked, they’d keep working for us. Of course, that had been for transformation magic, but I had to assume it would work for this too. After all, Madame Pimlish also did portal magic. It was how she’d arrived at the manor in the first place, tangled up with Count Vabu.

  This was definitely not the ideal time for experimentation. But nothing about this was ideal.

  I sensed that I was awfully close to breaki
ng down in ugly tears and defeat, so I barreled forward, denying myself the time to consider any more of my dire circumstances and the ramifications of my hare-brained actions.

  It will work, I thought, and I didn’t allow myself to consider what would happen to me if it didn’t.

  I stretched my arms fully out to my sides, closed my eyes, and spoke the first words that came to me.

  “I’m somewhere I don’t want to be.” Well that’s for darn sure.

  I huffed. I hadn’t meant to have my usual internal dialogue about what was happening. I was pretty sure spells didn’t work with mental interruption.

  “¡Dale! Focus, Isa.”

  I growled and dove right back in, lacking any kind of tranquility that I hoped wasn’t necessary for spell casting.

  “I wish to be somewhere other than where I am,

  away from the water and back to the land.”

  I bit my lip, but before I could think what came next, I just had to spit something—anything—out. Madame Pimlish’s spells for transformation had seemed random. I could do random.

  “I wish to lay on the chaise lounge in the parlor

  of the Acquaine estate, inside its manor.

  I open a portal now,

  to deliver me directly to the Magical Arts Academy.”

  As an afterthought, I added, “This portal will treat my body with care,

  and deposit me to safety without damaging even a hair.”

  There. How something like that might possibly work, I really had little idea, but it had to.

  I peeked open an eyelid. Nothing! Nothing at all was happening.

  My heart plummeted in my chest, and I started to drop my hands to my sides in defeat.

  No, no, no. I wouldn’t allow myself to fail so spectacularly. I was missing something. What?

  Ah! I hadn’t pictured where I wanted to go.

  Fast, before the spell wore off, I imagined what it felt like to be on the chaise lounge in the parlor, surrounded by what I realized now had become friends. Sure, they were quirky, annoying, and imposing—some more than others—but they were also caring, strong, and loyal.

  I pictured Nando next to me, waiting for me to return. I felt guilty for it, but I focused on the look of pure panic on his face. He kept alternating a glance between the chaise I’d vacated and the occupants of the room, who were planning my rescue.

  Sir Lancelot would be on the windowsill, our trusty sentinel. Arianne, Gustave, and Mordecai would be talking over the best way to find me. Marcelo would be listening and watching with those intelligent eyes, and Clara would be ready to jump in with an offer to help. Even Brave and Gertrude looked worried for my safety in the image I was creating in my mind.

  Marie comforted Nando, and Walt comforted Marie. Everyone was worried for me. Even the firedrakes, Sylvia and Mathieu, huddled at the edges of the rescue conference with long, drawn faces.

  Then I pictured Wizard Meedles, standing at the edge of the parlor so his nine hellhounds could remain out in the hall and still be near him. Madame Pimlish leaned into him for support, looking worried.

  It was all an act; it must be. Madame Pimlish wouldn’t be concerned for me. She cared only for herself. She must be using it as an excuse to lean into the giant magician who was a couple of heads taller than her. Her flowered dress wrapped around his tweed britches and vest, her orange curls sweeping across his chest.

  Free to study the woman I didn’t dare to stare at in real life, I trailed my eyes over her puckered lips and upturned nose, her ample curves, and tiny feet. I stared for so long, I nearly forgot what I was doing.

  Portal home, I thought, while staring into Madame Pimlish’s eyes.

  She gave a tremendous gasp, flicked her bouncy hair over her shoulder, brought a shaking hand to her ample bosom, and said, “I feel her!”

  “Feel who?” Arianne snapped, with far less patience then she usually had for the teacher’s theatrics.

  “Isadora.”

  “Isa?” Mordecai asked.

  Me? I thought. That can’t be. But I couldn’t deny the fact that Madame Pimlish seemed to be staring right at me—well, not really me, because I didn’t think I was there in body, but she was staring straight at the center of my awareness, where I’d be if I were actually there.

  The entire group of magicians in the room converged around the transformation teacher.

  “Are you sure it’s her?” Mordecai asked with urgency. “Are you certain it isn’t a sorcerer attempting to imitate her energy?”

  “Do you really think I wouldn’t know the difference?” she snapped at the old wizard, who wisely didn’t answer. “It’s her. I can feel her and her defeatist attitude, the way she constantly walks around as if she doesn’t have any idea of what she’s doing.”

  Hey! I thought. But Madame Pimlish didn’t hear me. Apparently she could only feel me.

  Nando moved closer to her. “My sister does not do that. She got dumped into this situation, and no one’s much bothered to teach her anything since she arrived. She’s doing the best she can, and in case you forgot, she’s the one who managed to portal us out of the SMS place, and she should still be recovering from it.”

  Thank you! Nando, always my defender. He must have snapped in his concern for me to speak to a teacher like that. It wasn’t like him, not at all.

  “Well she’s the one who left the manor. No one made her.”

  “She only just discovered she had magic. Today. Do you understand what that’s like?”

  Arianne looked as if she were considering intervening, but then opted against it. Nando continued. “She has no idea what she’s doing, yet one of our protectors pushed her into reliving what she’d only barely survived. The SMS is trying to get to us at every turn, and they’ve succeeded repeatedly, breaking through every supposed protection. I’m not surprised she vanished without meaning to. She’s under far too much pressure!”

  It was abundantly clear that Nando was the one under too much pressure. The room grew silent. For once, Madame Pimlish didn’t fling a retort right away.

  I wanted to reach out to offer my brother comfort, to tell him I was right there, but I had no idea how to do that. I had no idea how to complete what I was already seemingly doing without meaning to.

  Was I still in the middle of performing a spell? Was I holding the image of the parlor so that I could portal there?

  It didn’t seem normal that I could hear what they were saying about me... unless I was making it all up. That would make sense. In my frightened, deluded mind, I was imagining entire conversations about me.

  It wasn’t real. I still needed to make this spell work. Did I need to repeat the words? Had too much time elapsed?

  No, I didn’t think so. I was still swept up in the scene at the parlor as if I were some invisible spectator.

  I could still do it.

  I wanted to latch onto my brother, but at the last minute I reached with the hands of my mind for Madame Pimlish. She’d been the one to say she felt me, so maybe connecting to her would make the spell stronger.

  I linked to her and pushed my magic outward toward the idea of a glowing, spinning portal.

  “Oh no!” Madame Pimlish gasped again. “She’s trying to portal here. She’ll alert the SMS to her presence as effectively as training a beacon on herself.”

  A few startled sounds circled the room, during which I hesitated while maintaining the portal open—or at least my sense of it. I hadn’t actually opened my eyes to verify what I’d done, and I wouldn’t for fear of losing this inside view to my fellow magicians. Imagined or not, they were giving me real information—I thought.

  I started to shake from the effort of holding onto the portal and the image of the parlor back at Acquaine.

  “Go. Now,” Arianne, panicked, ordered. “Take Marcus and his hounds with you.”

  “Quickly, before they get to her first,” Mordecai said.

  Madame Pimlish, who didn’t do a single thing without fuss, proceeded this time
without a peep. She looked to Wizard Meedles, who nodded at her, and she took his arm.

  Her eyes bored into what felt like mine as Wizard Meedles turned to look at his hellhounds.

  A circular whirl of lights burst in the room, pushing and flinging the other magicians violently aside, then Madame Pimlish, Wizard Meedles, and nine salivating hellhounds stepped through it.

  The very moment it disappeared from the room, my view of Nando and the others zapped out.

  I flung my eyes open in time to see my own portal, shakily open on the water bank.

  Then someone—lots of someones—crashed through the brush.

  My portal shook so hard that I let go of the hold I had on it, bringing my hands together in front of me, closing it.

  It vanished from sight.

  With reluctance, I turned to see what was coming at me from behind.

  Immediately, I wished I hadn’t. Ignorance was bliss, and I had none of it.

  Chapter 11

  Remnant flashes of a closing portal silhouetted Miranda, the stringy-haired sorcerer Sinter, and two others I didn’t recognize. As signs of their portal vanished completely, they moved toward me en masse, their faces cast in menacing shadows. I made out a handful of firedrakes behind them—and a bat.

  Was the bat Priscilla? The last time I’d seen her Miranda was about to kill her. Could it be Count Vabu? Had he arrived at Miranda’s dungeon in time to see her portal, and jumped in before she noticed? Or... was the bat a regular bat?

  With a start, I let my curiosity go. The bat was the smallest of the creatures coming at me.

  Without the light of the portal, my attackers reduced to moving shapes in the dark. But I didn’t have to see them to understand they meant me harm, and that I had only moments to figure out something to do to counteract their plans.

  What do I do? The panicked question raced through my mind. A deep and telling silence echoed throughout the walls of my brain in response. I have absolutely no idea.

  There was nothing that I, a complete novice in the magical arts, could do to defend myself against these sorcerers, especially not one like Miranda who’d bragged that our entire team wasn’t strong enough to defeat her.