Unexpected Agents

by Lucia Ashta

  “A class with firedrakes?” I whispered to Nando. “Can you believe it?”

  “I can barely believe a single thing I’ve seen since I woke up on the back of that firedrake.”

  I nodded. I definitely understood that sentiment.

  I thought of something, reconsidered, then decided to walk over to Sir Lancelot anyway. I patted Nando on the arm with a look that said I’ll be back, and moved toward the wall of windows.

  I leaned against the windowsill, curtains draping heavily against my neck. “Sir Lancelot? May I ask you a question?”

  “Of course you may, Lady Isadora.” He never took his eyes from their continual scan of the outdoors. He took his job as lookout seriously; I was glad he did.

  “Why is Count Vabu particularly good at memory spells?”

  “Because he often needs to make people forget what they saw, I imagine.”

  “Oh? Why is that?” I really wasn’t following, though the owl sounded as if we were having an entirely mundane discussion.

  “Well, he can’t exactly have people remembering they’ve seen him in bat form, now can he? There are already enough legends about the vampire Dracula without him fomenting them.”

  I swallowed so loudly I was certain the owl would hear it. “What do you mean, legends about vampires? Surely you’re not suggesting that our new protector is a vampire.” I laughed uncomfortably at the suggestion, a strange, nervous sound that sounded completely foreign to me.

  Sir Lancelot turned to look at me then, his head swiveling on his neck to look nearly behind him, his body unmoving. He took me in with large, unblinking eyes. “Does it surprise you that much? You just saw him as a bat.”

  I wasn’t hearing right, surely I wasn’t. Our new team member couldn’t be a vampire. That was ridiculous. Vampires didn’t even exist.

  Just like magic doesn’t exist, right, Isa?

  I gulped again, my throat suddenly bone dry. “I also saw a teacher as a pig,” I whispered, not wanting to incite Madame Pimlish on yet another discourse about how she wasn’t the animal she resembled so much. “I assumed when our protector was a bat, that he transformed just like she did. I saw him transform just like she did.”

  “Not exactly like she did.”

  No, the transformation hadn’t been the same. His had been an instantaneous transformation. One moment he was a small bat that could fit in the palm of my hand—something that would never, ever happen—and the next the bat was stretching and elongating into the body of a man. There’d been no flash, no poof.

  But I hadn’t realized it meant anything. I was beginning to see that in magic every detail meant something.

  “So the Count is really a”—I swallowed again—“vampire?” I was proud of myself for getting the words out. “You aren’t kidding with me?”

  “Lady Isadora, do I look as if I’m kidding with you?”

  I took in the very somber, very distinguished, serious countenance of my petite teacher.

  “Is that it?” he asked, like he hadn’t just blown up my world—again.

  I nodded dumbly while he returned his attention to the possible invasion of dark sorcerers out to kill us and take over the world.

  I almost wished it were a dream—almost. I must be mad, because I still preferred this world to a life at my uncle’s house, where the ordinary was more stifling than the frightening.

  Numb, I turned to seek out my brother. From the startled look on his face, he’d heard everything.

  At least we were in this together.

  Chapter 5

  I’d just decided that approaching Brave and Gertrude, despite her standoffish attitude toward me, was the best way to get more information about our vampire protector—something I simply had to do. Sir Lancelot, usually loquacious, was intent on spotting any intruders, and I wouldn’t engage Madame Pimlish on purpose.

  I’d taken two steps toward the only other two students at the academy when Gertrude gave Brave a look that said, Come on, let’s get out of here before they try to talk to us, and he gave her a look back that said, Maybe we should give them a chance—at least, that’s what I thought they were saying to each other in their silent communication.

  In the end, Gertrude got her way—as I suspected she often did—and Brave started following her from the parlor. But Arianne entered from the other side in the same moment, halting their exit.

  “Come on, darlings. Let’s learn about firedrakes.” She sounded happier than I’d seen her since Gustave’s memories of their time together vanished.

  Gertrude approached her grandmother and put a hand on her arm. As if sensing my gaze on her, she turned to flick me a glare, implying I was doing something wrong by watching.

  I continued to train my eyes on the redheaded grandmother and granddaughter. I was going to do everything I could to figure out what was going on until someone decided to tell me in plain terms, and I owed no one an apology for doing that. In fact, I was quite certain Gertrude would be doing the same, or more, if she’d been brought to a developing magic academy, when she knew nothing of it, and was dumped in the middle of a crisis.

  Gertrude took a step closer to Arianne, as if that would keep me from hearing. I shared a look with Nando, in which he asked, What the heck is going on between the two of you? I shrugged; I had no idea.

  “Grand-mère, does this mean that Great Uncle Gustave has had his memory returned to him?”

  What joy Arianne’s expression held. “Non, ma chérie. He isn’t better yet, but I’m hopeful. Vladimir is a very accomplished wizard. If anyone can fix Gustave, he can. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

  “Oh, then he’ll come back to us.”

  Arianne squeezed Gertrude’s hand, which rested on her arm. “Of course he will, darling. He’s my twin.” The older woman offered a tremulous smile and faced the rest of us. “Come now. This will be fun.”

  She loped back toward the doorway as if she were a couple of generations younger than I believed she probably was. “Mathieu, Sylvia, please join us.” Her eyes shone, and I hoped more than ever before that this woman’s twin might remember who he was again—who she was. Never before had I met a grandmother so alive, so vibrant and youthful. I yearned to see more of her joy. It was a peculiarly strong feeling for a woman I’d only recently met.

  Mathieu and Sylvia, her opalescent scales reflecting the sunshine that streamed through the window as if her body were coated in pearls, responded right away. They waddled to Arianne’s side, where I suspected they most liked to be.

  Arianne brought a hand to Sylvia’s back as if the female were a lady instead of a firedrake, and she led her and Mathieu out the door.

  Nando was first to follow, and I didn’t blame him one bit. I suspected I’d follow the charismatic woman anywhere. I hurried to join him.

  Arianne whisked through the entry hall, her long skirts swishing around her, when she stopped. “Oh.” She turned. “I almost forgot. Brave, darling, please ask Sir Lancelot to join us. He can keep watch outside with us.”

  Brave nodded and headed back into the room, while I tried not to think about why Arianne might want Sir Lancelot watching wherever we went. As much as she might disguise it, we were in constant danger from the SMS, and I wished more than ever that the damned sorcerers would just leave us alone. I had magic to learn, if only my teachers had the time and opportunity to actually teach me!

  Arianne wove her way through the manor, down a long sunny hallway lined with mirrors and paintings of odd landscapes. Fourteen eager firedrakes followed, shifting side to side with each of their steps.

  Nando and I walked right behind them. I was torn between trying to decipher the subjects of the paintings and what made them seem strange, and studying the creatures up ahead; they were both equally fascinating.

  At one point, my brother looked to me, his face excited, his eyes clear and sparkling. “Can you believe it?” he asked. I felt like he’d asked me that question more than any other since he’d woken from
the spell that knocked him out; I suspected I might hear it many more times before our study at the Magical Arts Academy was complete—assuming it ever started in earnest.

  “We’re about to learn about firedrakes,” he said. “I’d never even heard of one in any of Papá’s books. Now here we are. I wonder if she’ll have us ride one.” His eyes widened as if he would enjoy climbing aboard one of the dragon-like creatures.

  “Have you lost your mind?” But the eagerness in his expression cut the edge from my question. I slapped at his arm playfully. “You can’t ride a firedrake. Do you know how ridiculous that is?”

  “I already rode one.” He didn’t look like I’d dampened his enthusiasm a bit. “Really, it would be riding one again.”

  “Well, please don’t. I need you to stay safe, and I doubt there’s a single thing that’s safe about riding a firedrake. Besides, I heard them say that it was very uncommon for someone to ride a firedrake.”

  “But all those sorcerers from the SMS were riding them, and Clara and Gertrude were as well.”

  “Clara and Gertrude rode a firedrake only to try to save you. The same with Gustave, before he got hit with the spell. From what they said, I think they ride the dragon, not the firedrakes.”

  Could our conversation get any weirder?

  “Well, we’ll see.” He turned his attention toward our fearless teacher. “If anyone can ride a firedrake, and do it the right way, I suspect Arianne can.”

  I also faced forward, where the mass of firedrakes was nearing a door, to the outside, I assumed, though with a building this size, it was hard to tell. “Yes, I suspect you’re right. She does seem quite extraordinary, doesn’t she?”

  “Definitely.”

  She pushed open the door to a burst of sunlight, and held it open for the firedrakes. Mesmerized, I followed.

  Arianne beamed at me as I passed, and I grinned like a fool back at her.

  “Why couldn’t Uncle have been like her instead of being how he is?” I asked Nando, leaning into his shoulder.

  “Because if he were, we probably would never have wanted to leave, even for an academy of magic.”

  “Good point.”

  “Sir Lancelot, please perch at the top of a tall tree,” Arianne was saying. “This will be a good opportunity to study our surroundings.”

  “Of course, Milady.” He was already flying upward. “And if I spot Mordecai, I’ll let you know right away.”

  Mordecai, of course. This was only my, what, third day here, and I was already having difficulty keeping track of all the people who were part of the academy and the danger they were currently in. And the academy was only about to get larger.

  “Merci, mon cher.” Arianne watched the owl’s flight for a few moments before snapping her attention on the rest of us. “Come, come, draw near.” Both students and firedrakes crowded around her.

  “Firedrakes are incredible creatures,” she began, and already the creatures seemed to stand taller. “Unknown except to the magical world, they’ve been around for longer than recorded history. I suspect they’re as old as the dragons. If we compare them by sight, you’ll surely notice their similarities. Much about their organisms seems to operate in similar ways. The greatest distinction between them is their size, and since Humbert isn’t here at the moment, I’ll also add that I find firedrakes to be of great intelligence. Not all dragons are. But that must remain our little secret. We don’t want to risk offending Humbert. He too is a magnificent creature, and of uncommon intelligence among dragons. Never say anything which discredits dragons in front of him.”

  I made a mental note to be very careful in how I expressed myself in front of any of the animals I ran into while at the academy, just in case.

  “But back to the lovelies we have here. Though they are similar to dragons, they differ in more than their size. As you can see, they have only two legs, and are capable of walking like a person. Dragons can’t do that. The firedrakes’ wings typically extend to one and a half times their body lengths, and they can fly for an entire day without resting during times of urgency. While they can push themselves when needed, they then have to rest in proportion to the time they’ve exceeded their usual capacity. If they’ve flown for an entire day, then they’ll require an entire day to recover to make up for it. If they fly two days without rest, you’ll need to provide them with four days to recuperate. If they fly three, six days of rest. And so on. This is useful information to know.”

  I couldn’t really anticipate needing to know any of that, and I really hoped I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to imagine what kind of situation might push us to drive firedrakes to exhaustion like that.

  “You’ve seen the SMS’ sorcerers riding firedrakes.” She frowned. “This is something I don’t recommend. Perhaps in emergency situations like Clara riding off to rescue Nando, but in no others. And even then, keep it to one rider. Though in your case, Gertrude, since you rode behind Clara in your cat form, I don’t think that was a problem.”

  Nando raised his hand. “How about when the sorcerer rode with me on the firedrake? Then when Gustave saved me he was also on the firedrake. There were three of us on the animal at once.”

  Arianne scowled. “That should never happen. It’s an abuse of such a magnificent creature. Three full-grown people on a firedrake is simply too much weight. It’s a miracle the poor thing didn’t fall from the sky.”

  “The firedrake did.”

  She gasped. “Well of course the poor thing did.” She tutted and turned on the firedrakes. “Which one of you darlings had to endure this? Is it one of you here? Or is the poor creature still stuck with those cruel sorcerers?”

  The firedrakes parted to allow one from the back to step forward. The creature was large, even for a firedrake, but didn’t look nearly big enough to handle that burden.

  Arianne rushed toward the animal. “Oh you poor thing.” She embraced the fierce-looking animal as if she were holding a child. “What a terrible thing they did to you.”

  The firedrake, its scales reflecting the most brilliant blue, nearly indigo-colored in this lighting, closed its eyes and accepted her comfort. Like this, with its reddish eyes and mouth closed, its wings pulled in against its back, and its long alligator-like face tilted downward, the animal reminded me of an old, gentle man, and I felt sorry for him.

  She sighed and pulled away from him. “I’ll make sure that never happens again, I promise.” Her tone was severe, and I understood that she’d fight to the death for these creatures. Then she cocked her head to the side, staring at the firedrake. I suspected there was some more internal dialogue we weren’t privy to when she said, “Elwin. A perfect name for you, cher.”

  She patted Elwin on the shoulder and resumed her lecture. “Firedrakes are to be treated with care and great respect.” Her eyes blazed. “These wonderful creatures have already grown used to magicians, though I don’t even want to think of what methods the SMS used to tame them. Most firedrakes will not be this easy—or safe—to approach. Like a wild dragon, you must not draw too close. You must give them time and space to grow used to your presence. It’s a gradual process that I will, in time, teach you, and one that must be given an opportunity to blossom before being pushed.”

  She was about to say something more, but hesitated, then seemed to hurry on as if to cover up her pause. I quirked my eyebrows at Nando, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Firedrakes, uh, eat other smaller animals.” Her poise remained intact, but I sensed an undercurrent of nervousness that hadn’t been there before.

  I swept my gaze around the clearing, but noticed nothing unusual. We were in an enclosed garden off the side of the manor. The garden was so large that I didn’t see the end of it, beginning with its manicured flower beds near us, and fading out to more natural forest farther away.

  “They hunt, but don’t need to eat more often than once a week when food is scarce. When it’s readily available, they enjoy eating every day.”

  Maybe I�
�d imagined things. She stood erect and elegant in her dress, her hair perfectly coiffed atop her head. “While you’re students here, I think it would be beneficial to take turns tending to their feeding. That way you learn how to interact with them, how to care for them, and they’ll get to know you.”

  No, I’d been right. Something was going on. I just caught Arianne’s amber eyes flick to the side and then back again so quickly that it barely happened. But it had, I was sure of it.

  Again I scanned the garden and the forest it faded into. This time, Arianne caught my wandering attention. She captured my gaze and gave the slightest shake of her head.

  “What, will we have to hunt for them?” Gertrude asked, not seeming sufficiently appalled by the idea.

  “Maybe, maybe not. I’ll have to consider the issue.”

  All right. Arianne was definitely distracted.

  “Sir Lancelot,” she called overhead. “Will you please come down here and tell the students a bit about how you hunt?” To us, she said, “There are many similarities in how an owl, even one of Sir Lancelot’s size, hunts with how the firedrake does.”

  Sir Lancelot flew downward, traveling at alarming speed, then swooped onto Brave’s shoulder. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not at all,” Brave answered, moving his head to the side to give the owl more space.

  “Good, I didn’t think you would. If not, I would never have been so presumptuous as to land on you like this without asking first.”

  “Sir Lancelot,” Arianne said, interrupting his displays of manners, “will you please demonstrate how you hunt?” She wiggled her eyebrows at the owl.

  He stared back at her. He’d caught on. Something was amiss. I hoped he understood what better than I.

  “Perhaps you could demonstrate how you catch a mouse?” Her words were innocent, but her eyes were not. Without moving her head, she flicked her eyes to her right side.

  Sir Lancelot’s head followed the movement. Understanding dawned on his owl face, and he was off.

  And so was the mouse that had crept right next to us without my noticing, even in my studying sweeps of the area.