by Lucia Ashta
Madame Pimlish hiccupped and preened for a moment. Giselle crossed her arms over her chest, looking as fierce as Wizard Meedles. “Marcus, have you lost your mind? What makes you think we’re going to give up for goodness’ sake? I’m taking Maurisse down. To do that, I need to get out of here.” She scowled, but I didn’t think she was angry. “And I’m taking every single one of you with me.”
Wizard Meedles looked mollified. “Good to hear.” Holly whimpered in pain, and he added, “Please work as quickly as you can.”
“We will if you would stop interrupting us telling us to hurry,” Mordecai said gruffly. “No more distractions. It’s enough to concentrate with all of... this going on.” He waved both arms to encompass the entire area of the dungeon we occupied, but I understood what he meant. It was hard not to, with the way Madame Pimlish, Gustave, and Arianne in particular were carrying on. But none of us seemed entirely immune to the effects of the spell, if only to exhibit distress and anxiety from our desperation to get out of here.
Humbert chose that moment to punctuate Mordecai’s statement with a gust of flame—thankfully pointed in the opposite direction of where we all gathered.
I hadn’t figured out whether Humbert—or the firedrakes for that matter—understood what was spoken, or if they only comprehended what was told to them directly, via the thoughts of a magician with that ability. So I couldn’t tell whether Humbert’s blast of fire was in agreement with Mordecai’s request, or whether the dragon was simply sick of being pent up in the space, which was small for him despite its dimensions.
“I think we might be able to reverse the spell by doing an incantation of it in reverse order,” Mordecai said, interrupting my musings and yanking my focus back where I would have wanted it in the first place.
Mordecai played with his beard while he considered the idea, and Albacus did the same thing. Although he couldn’t actually touch his beard, it was clearly a habit that survived from his lifetime, and it made the two brothers seem even more alike than usual.
“What do you think, Albacus?” From what I’d heard, Mordecai and Albacus were used to working as a team, and their preference was to work through problems together.
The ghost didn’t respond right away, but when he did, he looked hopeful. I took that as a very good sign. “I think you might be right.”
Mordecai’s eyes twinkled as he arched his eyebrows. “Wait a minute. I don’t think I heard you correctly. You think I’m right?”
“That’s what I said, now don’t make me regret it.” Albacus scowled at his brother, but I could tell he was enjoying the easy banter the brothers shared as much as Mordecai. “I only said it because you looked so upset that Maurisse had kidnapped me. I was just throwing you a bone.”
“Does that mean you don’t think reversing the spell will work?”
“No, I think it will work. At least, I think it’s worth a try.”
“Albacus,” Giselle said.
“Yes?”
“How did Maurisse manage to kidnap you, anyway?”
“Oh. That.” Albacus suddenly looked furious. “He snuck up on me. My attention was focused on helping Marcelo and Isadora escape from the SMS’ riders. He wove this entrapment spell, and cast it from behind, throwing it in my path. I stumbled right into it.”
“And once you did, you couldn’t escape it,” Giselle said knowingly.
“Correct. He walked right up to me and cast a spell using the air element to guide me to the prison back here. The other riders were probably just a distraction to get me. His horse was tied up off the road.”
I was having trouble remembering the details of my narrow escape from the SMS’ riders, but I was sure it hadn’t felt like they were merely a distraction. If anything, this Maurisse had probably intended to capture Albacus, Marcelo, and me.
“Are you sure we can’t reverse this entrapment spell too?” Mordecai asked.
“I really don’t think we can. Not after I pushed through to this other world. I somehow distorted the original spell.”
“I see.” Mordecai looked unhappy at the news, but perhaps even more determined than before to spare his brother from his current fate.
“If the spell trapping us here can be broken by speaking it in reverse order, what do you need for that?” Clara asked, pointing them back to the urgency of our predicament before Wizard Meedles or Nando did.
“Paper and pen would be helpful,” Marcelo said.
“Definitely,” Giselle said. “That was a long, nasty thing of a spell. Who has paper and pen?”
A few I don’ts sounded out, but other than that, there were more whimpers and cries.
“No one has pen and paper? How can that be?”
“We left for a rescue mission,” Gertrude said. “Why would we have pen and paper?”
“Then that’s a problem. I can’t guarantee that I’ll remember every word of the spell well enough to flip it around and recite it properly.” Giselle turned on Mordecai. “Will you?”
“My memory is spry for an old wizard, but not that spry. But it won’t be a problem.”
“How do you figure that?”
“We have Sir Lancelot.”
Giselle arched a slender eyebrow and sought out the owl. “Where is he?”
Sir Lancelot hopped forward, drawing everyone’s attention to the floor.
“Are you up for the challenge?”
“Absolutely, Grand Witch Tillsdale.” The bird was small even for a pygmy owl, but he still puffed his chest out in pride at the importance of his new mission. “I never forget a thing.”
“He doesn’t,” Albacus confirmed, unnecessarily I thought. No one doubted the owl.
“Do you remember the spell as Albacus recounted it to us?” Giselle asked.
“Every single word.”
“Your magnificent mind and courage are going to save us all,” Clara said while she smiled fondly down at the bird.
I didn’t think it was possible for an owl to blush, but Sir Lancelot gave me the impression that Clara’s words had caused exactly that reaction. “Why, thank you, Lady Clara. I’m always happy to perform my duty with honor.”
He stood as tall as he could, reminding me of a soldier despite his diminutive size and, well, his feathered body.
“No time to waste,” Wizard Meedles said, appearing as if he were working hard to control his temper. Poor Holly’s breathing was labored, and it was clear she was in a great deal of discomfort. The pups would arrive soon.
“I’m ready to serve,” Sir Lancelot announced proudly.
“Excellent. Let’s begin,” Mordecai said.
We’d placed the entirety of our hope in surviving this ordeal in a well-mannered, talking bird.
And it felt totally normal.
We were about to be freed, or we were soon to die here. There was no in between.
Chapter 9
“It seems wise to repeat Maurisse’s spell back to us before you start,” Grand Witch Giselle Tillsdale said to Sir Lancelot.
In response, Sir Lancelot arched his feathery brow and said, “That’s not necessary, I assure you.”
“Are you telling me there’s no chance that you might make a mistake?”
“In this instance, there’s none.”
Giselle harrumphed, then finally looked to Mordecai and Albacus. When they nodded their assent with Sir Lancelot’s conviction in his unerring accuracy, she looked to Marcelo and Clara. Marcelo nodded too, while Clara shrugged.
“Fine,” Giselle said. “Go for it then.”
“Certainly, Grand Witch Giselle.” He was quite pleased with himself. “To whom am I repeating the words?”
“To me,” Giselle and Mordecai said at the same time.
“I’ll do it,” Mordecai said. “Maurisse took my brother, and everyone else from the academy.”
“You’re distracted with your brother,” Giselle said.
I wondered if magicians ever did things efficiently. Here we were, struggling to survive a life-or
-death situation, with time ticking away our demise, and they still didn’t agree easily on anything. “I can place all my focus on the spell’s reversal.”
“I am not distracted. I’m fully capable of reversing this spell.”
“You’re both capable of doing it,” Wizard Meedles interrupted, his voice all gruffness, all urgency. “So this time, Giselle you do it, while Mordecai monitors your progress. We need someone to verify that the spell can indeed be broken like this. Mordecai, you watch to make sure Maurisse didn’t incorporate some kind of booby trap into the spell.”
“What?” I said. “He can do that?”
“Regrettably,” Giselle said, “he can do a great many things.”
“Oh,” I said to myself. I didn’t think it could, yet our situation managed to become more dire by the minute. Nando settled back into my side at my distress.
He peered over at Giselle and Mordecai. “Please just do it. She isn’t well.”
I would have complained to be spoken of as if I weren’t there, but what Nando said was true, and I suspected I was faring better than some of the others. There wasn’t a person or creature in the dungeon that looked to be doing well.
“Fine,” Mordecai relented. “You do it,” he said to Giselle. “But I’ll be watching to make sure everything goes as it’s supposed to.”
“I’d expect nothing less of you.” She gave Mordecai a somewhat predatory grin. Then to Sir Lancelot, “Hurl them at me.”
Sir Lancelot’s beak dropped as if he were entirely shocked at her casual demeanor. I wasn’t aware of the etiquette expected in life-or-death situations, but I was certain the owl must be well schooled in it. “‘Hurl them’ at you? The words of the spell, you mean? The ones that can spare us all from a horrible fate?”
“Yes, those.” Giselle didn’t appear reprimanded in the least. “Give them to me.”
“‘Give them’ to her, she says,” the owl muttered under his breath while he shook his head in dismay. “What is the world coming to?”
I wanted to point out that Giselle’s attitude was the least of our problems, but I didn’t dare interrupt. Already the smallest step took many times longer than it should have.
Sir Lancelot gave a final huff for good measure, then began. “Undone. Be. Cannot. It.”
Giselle spread her arms out to her sides and closed her eyes. When she spoke, it was in a voice deeper than before, one that resonated with power. “Undone. Be. Cannot. It.”
The fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. Without having seen more, I was sure that Grand Witch Giselle was as powerful as everyone said she was.
“Come on,” Nando whispered right next to my ear. “We need to get everyone ready to get out of here.”
“But I want to hear the spell,” I protested. However, when Sir Lancelot relayed the next words, I realized it was futile. I wouldn’t be able to string the words together into their proper order to make sense of Maurisse’s spell. Already I’d forgotten what the owl originally said.
“Broken. Be. Cannot. Spell. My,” he intoned, and Giselle repeated the words right away, injecting them with an eerie inflection.
“All right,” I conceded to Nando. “Let’s go.”
“Strong. It. Bind,” Sir Lancelot said as we moved to Trevor, Delilah, and their three children.
“Let’s start moving over to the ramp out of here,” Nando whispered to the parents.
“Good idea,” Delilah said, casting a curious glance at Giselle before gathering her children and moving.
“Strong. It. Bind,” Giselle said, and I sensed a shift in the energy in the dungeon—good or bad, I wasn’t sure, but I was hoping for the former.
Trevor led his family with one of the torches, ushering Marie and Walt to join them as they went.
“So. It. Make,” Sir Lancelot said. Giselle repeated his words.
Something was definitely shifting in the stagnant air, and I allowed my mind to let go of what they were saying and focus—as best I could—on the job that needed to be done.
Nando led me over to Gustave, who was huddled in a dark corner, while his twin paced frenetically in front of him. Count Vabu and Priscilla moved to help us with the red-haired wizard who looked even more terrified than Madame Pimlish.
“Gustave,” Nando said. “It’s time to leave this place.”
“There is no leaving this place. We’re doomed.”
“That’s right,” Arianne said, not bothering to whisper. I hoped Sir Lancelot, Giselle, and Mordecai could continue doing their thing despite the many distractions. “There’s no hope for any of us. We may as well stay here to die, darlings. Just leave my brother be.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Nando said. “Come on, Gustave, get up.”
“What’s the point?”
So fast that I suspected he’d used vampire powers, Count Vabu was at Nando’s side. “Allow us to help with Gustave and Arianne.”
Nando studied Count Vabu’s intent expression before nodding. “All right.”
“You get the firedrakes and dragon.”
“Oh, sure. No problem.”
Count Vabu either didn’t realize that Nando was being sarcastic, or he didn’t care that he’d given my brother the more difficult of the jobs. As confused as Gustave and Arianne were, they didn’t breathe fire.
But Count Vabu and Priscilla quickly whisked us in the opposite direction so that we had little choice.
“Ask Elwin to help,” Nando suggested while we traversed the dungeon.
“Who’s Elwin?” I asked.
“The firedrake who talks to you in your mind.”
“A firedrake talks to me in my mind?” I nearly shrieked the question. That was crazy!
“Yes, and keep it down. We don’t want to interrupt Giselle.”
No, we definitely didn’t want to do that.
“Go ahead, talk to him in your mind and see if he answers.”
I blinked at my brother several times, but didn’t say—or think—a thing.
“Ahora, Isa. You can do this.”
“If you think so....” But I sure didn’t. Regardless, I obeyed. Hey, uh, Elwin? My brother says I can speak with you like this, which is totally ridiculous, I know, but I said I’d do it, so.... “See? Nothing.”
Isa, you stopped listening to me. I’ve been trying to get through to you.
My mouth hung slack. “There’s someone talking to me inside my brain.”
“I told you. I’m sure that’s Elwin.”
“But—”
“No buts, Isa. It’s time to focus.” He held up a hand. “And before you say anything, I know you’re having trouble focusing. I can’t wait until you’re back to your normal self.”
I couldn’t wait for that either, especially since I’d entirely forgotten what my normal self was like.
“Ask Elwin to help you get the firedrakes over to the ramp. Humbert too, if he can.”
Elwin, I started, but he interrupted.
I heard him. I’ll do what I can, and the others will do what they can.
I sought the indigo firedrake out of the dimness to stare at him. What exactly did that mean?
But Elwin wasn’t waiting for me to figure it out. He was waddling toward the others.
Fourteen firedrakes, including Elwin, began padding across the open space toward the ramp. I was entirely fascinated by their dragon-like bodies and their penguin-like gait. So much so that I was the last to realize that Giselle had finished her reverse incantation of the spell—other than Madame Pimlish and the ginger twins, I supposed.
The air, which had been so still as to be oppressive and rank before, was suddenly alive. It crackled and sparked with electricity. It was an energy I was familiar with, and though I didn’t remember exactly how I’d died, or if I really had at all, I sensed it was from interacting with a similar energy.
I sheltered myself against Nando’s side, and he dragged me along with him as we sidled next to Wizard Meedles and his hounds.
Nando asked Meedles, “How can we help get your hounds out? Should—”
A tremendous clap echoed across the dungeon. Then Grand Witch Giselle called out, loud enough for everyone in the dungeon to hear. Perhaps she hoped her words would reach Maurisse, wherever the coward was.
“The spell which bound us no longer holds power.
Its effects are reversed.
Our sovereignty is returned
for no one can claim it.
We are all free,
we are one.
No one controls us.
The curse is shed,
now and forever.”
Grand Witch Giselle clapped a second time. My ears rang.
The electricity, which had built, dissolved and faded along with the echo of her hands meeting.
“I think that did it,” she said. “And you?” she asked Mordecai with a second glance at Albacus.
The brothers appeared to study something—the air? The elements? I wasn’t sure—before they both signaled their agreement. “It seems it’s done....” Mordecai hedged.
“‘Seems’?”
But Mordecai looked to Albacus, and then up to Malachai, and not at the grand witch. “Do you sense what I sense?”
“I do,” Albacus said right away. “But I can’t figure out what it means.”
“What are you both talking about? The spell is broken,” Giselle said, not a hint of doubt in her voice.
“Malachai?” Albacus said.
He was already shaking his translucent head. “I don’t feel anything. I think the spell is broken.”
Mordecai and Albacus shared a poignant look. “Let’s hope you’re both right,” Mordecai said.
“I am,” Giselle said. “Now, unless you wizards like the smell of the place, I say we get out of here.”
“Here here,” Brave said, and began to usher Gertrude toward the ramp.
By the time I returned my attention to Gustave’s corner, he and Arianne were gone. Apparently Count Vabu and Priscilla had fared better with the twins than we had.
Clara was leading Marcelo over to Humbert when Wizard Meedles called out to Nando. “Help me with her so I can carry Holly.”