Magical Arts Academy 10: Spirited Escape

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by Lucia Ashta


  “And you?” Nando asked.

  “I’m in,” Gertrude responded without hesitation. “There are plenty of them working on cracking the spell back there. Let’s see what lies ahead. It can’t hurt, right?” She laughed nervously, and the sound made me cringe.

  We were all on edge.

  “All right then. Let’s do it.” Nando faced forward again and resumed our progress.

  My thoughts continued to attempt to pull me away from the here-and-now. I struggled to maintain my focus and follow Nando along a path I didn’t see.

  We moved slowly, making the tunnel seem eternal. It narrowed and closed in on us more the farther into it we got, though I had no way of gauging whether this was true or simply my impression.

  Everything down here was distorted: perception, thought, magic.

  “There!” Nando said, startling me from wherever I’d gone as we trudged along. “I see a change in the lighting up ahead.”

  “You mean in the degree of darkness,” I muttered.

  “Yes, that.” He ignored my sarcasm. “It’s another room or something.”

  “Oh, goodie. More dungeon.”

  Nando tugged on my hand and barreled down the path. “Hey, slow down.”

  “Please no. It’s already taken forever. We don’t have forever.”

  I wouldn’t argue the point.

  I ran after him, stumbled, but didn’t fall. He pulled me along behind him. “We’re almost there. Only a little bit more. You can do it, Isa.”

  “Well of course I can.” I mean, just because I couldn’t see in the dark didn’t mean there was a thing wrong with my legs. But he was completely ignoring our usual banter. I had to wonder if the tone of my voice sounded different in my head, or if I managed to speak the words aloud at all.

  I experienced a sudden pang of sympathy for patients of sanitariums. It must be horrible to be trapped in your own mind, unsure which version of reality is the authentic one, unable to hold onto the world others live in.

  We have to hurry. The healthy sense of urgency I already experienced spiked. My mind felt so different than it usually did that I was losing reference points. If we didn’t make it out of here soon, I might never be the same. No one had said it, but I was sure there were some effects of dark magic from which a person never recovered.

  I wouldn’t allow that to happen to me—or anyone else if I had anything to say about it.

  Nando came to a sudden stop and I slammed into his back, twisting his arm and mine since I wouldn’t let go. “What is it?”

  “We’re here.”

  “Here where?”

  “In another dark, dank, cavernous part of the dungeon,” Sir Lancelot said, his melancholy voice coming from a lower height than Gertrude’s shoulders. He must have decided to traverse the path on his own.

  “This place is huge,” Nando said. “I think the dungeon must span the entire length of the castle.”

  “It should,” the owl quipped. “Rumors are that Duke Maurisse’s prisons are always overflowing.”

  “Except for now,” I said. It was a curious fact, really. “Why would Maurisse evacuate the prisons to cast the spell for us? Obviously he doesn’t care about his prisoners.”

  “From the stench, I’d say he’d enjoy making them suffer. Some of his prisoners surely must have been magical. They would have suffered from the spell he’s enacted just as much as we have.”

  “Are you suffering from the curse, Sir Lancelot?”

  The owl didn’t answer right away, and I imaged him tilting his head this way and that as he did when he was considering an issue.

  “I don’t believe I am, Lady Isa, at least not in any way I’ve noticed.”

  Would he necessarily notice if he were affected? I thought, but said, “Well at least that’s something. How about you, Gertrude?”

  But Gertrude didn’t answer, not in words anyhow. A meow sounded behind me and I wondered when she’d turned into a cat... and how I hadn’t noticed that she had.

  I assumed Gertrude transformed into a cat to better navigate the dark, treacherous halls. I probably would have done it too if I knew how.

  And you, Elwin? I asked. Is the spell affecting you at all?

  “What—” Sir Lancelot started, but I rushed to cut him off. “Just a moment if you please, Sir Lancelot. I’m speaking with Elwin at the moment.”

  “Oh,” the owl flustered. “Right you are. This whole mind communication business does make polite conversation difficult. I can’t be sure not to interrupt if I can’t hear your dialogue.”

  “I’ll let you know when we’re finished, how about that?”

  “That will work for now, Lady Isadora, thank you. It’s most important to be polite, you know. Without manners, we have nothing.”

  I didn’t agree in the least, but I’d already wasted enough time placating the owl. “Certainly,” I said to close the topic.

  Elwin?

  I’ve been considering what you asked while the owl held your attention.

  And?

  And I’m not entirely certain how I am, other than to know that I am. The firedrake, who owed me a life debt, chuckled at his own joke, one I was sure I wasn’t getting. Something peculiar is taking place beyond my awareness.

  By the time Elwin finished replying I was anxious to move on. If he wasn’t going to provide me with answers I could easily understand, then what was the point? On a good day, I understood half of what Elwin said, and this definitely wasn’t a good day.

  “What now?” Nando asked, not waiting like Sir Lancelot for an announcement that polite conversation was now allowed.

  “I-I’m not sure.”

  “Do you... sense anything? See anything?”

  “I can’t see a dang thing, that’s all I know for sure.”

  The eyes register only the illusion.

  Elwin. I sighed. If you’re trying to help me, you’ll need to be much clearer than that. I can barely keep two thoughts strung together at the moment.

  As if to prove it, by the time Elwin answered, I’d already forgotten what it was I’d said to him, and what he’d said to me in the first place.

  The eyes see what you want them to see. The heart senses what’s truly here.

  And what’s truly here?

  You tell me.

  I’d really love it if you’d tell me. This was getting ridiculous. Did the firedrake not have any other setting beyond confusing?

  I can’t tell you.

  You can’t, or you won’t?

  I won’t cheat you of your growth.

  I don’t mind. Cheat away.

  True fate looks beyond the present.

  I clamped down on my mind to prevent my frustrated thoughts from seeping across our connection. I tried for patience, came up short, but plowed ahead regardless. I don’t think you realize how badly the... uh, thing is affecting my mind. I can barely think.

  Good. Thought only muddles things.

  I decided right then that I gave up, and wouldn’t mind if Elwin never spoke to me again.

  “Are you finished?” Nando asked.

  “With what?”

  “Speaking with Elwin.”

  “How’d you know I was?”

  “Because you were looking at him with that intent look on your face like you get when you’re having an intense discussion.”

  I was pretty sure I wasn’t capable of having an intent look at the moment, but whatever. “We were talking, but now we aren’t.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “Um, I really couldn’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” He parroted my question to Elwin back at me.

  “Can’t. What he said just confused me.”

  Look with the heart, not the eyes.

  I huffed. And how do you suggest I do that? I flailed my arms about in a pointless gesture.

  The way is different for everyone, but the way is always right.

  All righty then.

  Feel what’s there to see. Don’t think
. Just extend your heart outward.

  Finally something I could get on board with. Not thinking was definitely within my current wheelhouse. “He says I need to look with my heart, not with my eyes, whatever that means.”

  “It’s a shame he and I can’t speak. I think we’d have delightful conversations,” Sir Lancelot said in a wistful tone.

  Nando spun to face me fully. “Do you understand how to do that?” he asked as Gertrude rubbed against my leg with an uncharacteristic purr and moved to the front of the line.

  “No,” I said. Yes, I thought.

  That’s it, Elwin encouraged. Open wide.

  I shook my head at his last comment and glanced at the floor. I’d probably never understand the firedrake.

  But when I looked up again, I wondered if I just might.

  When I focused on Nando, I made out the edges of his familiar features, but not in severe lines and shadows... in dancing light.

  My breath hitched but I otherwise didn’t move or say a thing. I was afraid to interrupt the effect of... whatever it was that was happening.

  Nothing is truly impossible, I thought, not intending to share it with Elwin. But the firedrake responded regardless. Now you’ve stepped onto the right path. You don’t need anyone to lead you. Lead yourself.

  With that nonsensical encouragement, I took a shaky step forward, placing me half a step in front of Nando, where there was nothing but darkness ahead. Even with the dancing lights, Gertrude was invisible in the shadows.

  Look upward, my intuition chanted, so I did. I gasped. Lights swirled and danced as if coming to life from the well of darkness before my eyes... er, heart, whatever.

  “What the...?” I muttered. “Oh my goodness.”

  “What? What is it?” Nando asked, his voice concerned.

  “There are spirits everywhere.” And it was only then that I could be sure that I’d put Elwin’s advice into practice. With a start, I realized that my eyes were closed... yet I could see more than I ever had before.

  Chapter 4

  “What do you mean, ‘there are spirits everywhere?’” Nando asked.

  I wasn’t sure how much clearer I could get, but since I totally understood how my statement would confuse my brother, I searched for another way to say the same thing. “There are spirits floating around.”

  “Here?”

  “I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” I said, which was rich, considering that I was pretty shocked that I could see the spirits myself. But just as my thoughts weren’t coming as they usually did, neither were my words. In fact, everything about me felt off since we’d descended into Maurisse’s dungeon of horrors.

  I hoped I was actually seeing the spirits I believed I was seeing... because there was always the possibility that I was starting to imagine things. As my ability to process thoughts degenerated, it would make perfect sense for something to go wrong with the steps between what my eyes took in and how my brain processed the imagery.

  “Is Albacus among the spirits?” Sir Lancelot asked, seeming remarkably calm given the situation.

  “I-I can’t tell yet.”

  Gertrude meowed and Sir Lancelot said, “It would be good if you ascertained whether or not he’s here.”

  I immediately resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I thought, Like I wouldn’t have figured that out on my own. Then I remembered we were in the dark, so I rolled my eyes to my heart’s content.

  It felt surprisingly good not to have to hold back until—

  “I saw that, young lady, and I might add that it was most inappropriate—and impolite. I’m only trying to help us all come out of quite egregious circumstances.”

  Now I felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Sir Lancelot. I’m not quite myself.” Which wasn’t entirely accurate since I restrained the urge to roll my eyes at least a dozen times on any given normal day.

  The pygmy owl sniffed loudly, and I wasn’t sure whether he’d forgiven me or not.

  “Check for Albacus,” Nando said, bringing me back to what was really important.

  But when I looked back out into the cavernous darkness ahead of us, I saw nothing. No dancing lights, no glimmers of spirits of the dead.

  “I can’t see them anymore!” I hadn’t meant to shout it, but I was teetering on a dangerous edge within myself. I was trying to remain focused—really, I was. I wanted to contribute in some meaningful way. Mostly, I wanted to get all of us out of here, and I had absolutely no attachment to how it happened or who managed it.

  I was having so much trouble focusing. Dangit. I wanted to slump in a heap on the cold, dirty floor and cry. I no longer cared who was there to witness me falling apart.

  Don’t despair. Elwin’s voice was calming as it rang through my muddled mind.

  I messed up.

  There is no messing up. There are only mistakes we learn from.

  If Elwin was going to speak in riddles some more, I was definitely going to cry. I can’t see them anymore. I could see them, and now I can’t.

  If you believe you can’t, then you can’t.

  What? That wasn’t encouraging. I was back to wanting to cry.

  “Isa, are you all right?”

  The concern in my brother’s voice was enough to snap me out of myself. “I’m fine.”

  “You… are you sure you’re all right? You sound....”

  “What? I sound what?”

  “Like you’ve dipped into Uncle’s brandy decanter.”

  “If that’s all I sound like, then I’m doing better than I feared.”

  “Isa?”

  I placed a hand against his chest to calm him. “I’ll be a-right,” I slurred. “I promise.” It wasn’t clear to me why I said it, as I was entirely sure it was a promise I had no way of keeping.

  Nando stepped closer to me and slid his sword into its sheath so he could wrap both arms around me. “I’ve got you. You can lean into me.”

  And I did. I slumped into him so much that I felt him bend his knees to brace himself.

  Isa.

  Elwin’s voice sounded far away. He must have been standing right behind Sir Lancelot, though I still couldn’t make out either of them in the dark. I couldn’t distinguish Nando anymore either, the light that had illuminated the features of his face for a few instants faded to nothing.

  Isa.

  Yes?

  Look again.

  I did. I turned my face back toward what would have been the sky had we been outside enjoying a sunshine-filled day instead of struggling for our survival in the pit of a twisted sorcerer’s castle.

  I gulped, suddenly sad enough to cry all over again. I don’t see anything.

  Look with your heart not with your eyes.

  What does that mean? Was I supposed to know?

  The eyes deceive. The heart, when true, does not.

  Elwin, I don’t know what that means. I think... I think I’m lost inside myself. The thought of it filled me with renewed panic, and I threw my arms around Nando’s shoulders, and pressed my face into his chest.

  “Shhh,” he soothed. “It’ll be all right. We’ll get out of here. Don’t worry.”

  But I suddenly didn’t think we’d get out at all. I was going to end up trapped within myself, a prisoner of my own mind, and it was going to be so much worse than my body being locked in this dungeon.

  “Isa?” Nando said. “Are you with me?”

  “Huh? Uh, I guess so. Some Elwin is talking to me.”

  “‘Some Elwin?’”

  “Ah-hah.”

  “Isa, you have to hurry.”

  “Hurry with what?”

  “In finding Albacus, child,” Sir Lancelot said. “From the sound of it, you have to do it immediately... before it’s too late.”

  “Who’s Albacus?”

  “Lord Nando,” Sir Lancelot said. “We have to do something.”

  “But what?” My brother sounded panicked.

  Isa! Ignore them, the voice inside my head said. Focus on what I’m telling you. />
  Since I could only focus on one thing anyway, I did as the voice told me.

  Are you listening to me and not the others?

  Yes. At least, I thought I was.

  Look with your heart, not with your eyes, and you’ll see the spirits. Do you understand me?

  Sure. Seems easy enough. I felt like I was swimming through a pitcher of molasses, but I thought I understood. In fact, everything suddenly seemed incredibly simple. Look with my heart. Why not?

  I looked with my heart and gasped.

  “What is it, Isa? What is it?” Nando asked.

  “There are... the most beautiful lights. They’re everywhere.”

  “Are they lights, or are they spirits? You said they were spirits before?”

  Had I? I looked again. “You’re right. They’re people.

  Really look at them, the voice in my head said, so I did.

  The people grew brighter, and lights shot out of them in every color, as if they were the prisms of a kaleidoscope and I the sunshine illuminating them.

  “They’re so very beautiful,” I said to myself, and turned to lean my back against Nando’s chest.

  “Who’s so very beautiful? The spirits?” Nando asked.

  “If that’s what they are, then yes.”

  “Is Albacus among them?”

  “I don’t know. What does Albacus look like?”

  “A lot like Mordecai.”

  “Who’s Mordecai?”

  Nando’s entire body tensed beneath me. “He’s Albacus’ brother. And Albacus is dead.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  Nando answered through pursed, tight lips. “He has long, gray hair, braided into many plaits. He also has a long, gray beard, which he wears braided into a few large braids.”

  “He wears long, flowing robes,” the owl contributed.

  “That’s right, he does. Is there anyone here like that?”

  “Let me look and find out.” My voice was sing-songy, and I couldn’t seem to help the fact.

  I searched the lights and images floating around us. I looked with closed and then open eyes. “I don’t see anyone like that.”

  “Lady Isadora, perhaps you might try communicating with the spirits. One of them might know of Lord Albacus’ whereabouts,” Sir Lancelot said.

  “All right.” I was back to feeling chipper, and sang the rest of my response.

 

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