by Lucia Ashta
Marcelo and Brave rose to follow him out.
I scrambled to my feet. Ahem. “What about me?”
Mordecai turned from the door. By the look on his face, he’d forgotten about me, lost in his worried thoughts. “The seamstress has probably arrived by now. Order your dresses. I’ll cover all the costs.”
“That’s it? Order dresses?”
His eyebrows rose ever so slightly. “And rest up. Your studies begin today.”
I gulped. “What? When?”
“After luncheon.”
I hadn’t needed to worry about never actually starting school. Apparently, this crew wasn’t one for dragging out the inevitable.
My life was changing forever... just after luncheon.
Chapter 9
I’d ordered enough dresses to have one for each day of the week. I’d had to fight the seamstress a bit to get the simple dresses I preferred instead of the more ornate ones currently in fashion, but in the end, I prevailed.
Once that task was complete, I had no intention of resting as Mordecai had suggested, so I joined the men and owl in the parlor, hoping they wouldn’t mind my presence. I suspected that once Acquaine started functioning more like a magical arts academy, its students wouldn’t have free reign to go wherever they desired whenever they wanted; I intended to make the most of my freedom while I had it.
The key to going somewhere you possibly aren’t supposed to be is to behave as if you have every right to be there. I waltzed right into the parlor and claimed an arm chair far enough away from the table Marcelo, Brave, and Mordecai huddled over not to be in their way, but close enough that I wouldn’t miss much.
Sir Lancelot was the only one to notice my entrance. He turned from his perch at the windowsill to arch what almost looked like eyebrows at me. Is it possible for an animal to take on human features if he acts human long enough? The pygmy owl was an argument for that very possibility.
Sir Lancelot didn’t say anything. He watched me for half a minute while I pretended not to notice, crossing my legs one way and then the other, before he turned back to the window, which looked over the front entrance to the manor. Certainly, there were many more ways the SMS could get to us beyond traipsing right up to the front door—they’d proven that—but I supposed it still needed to be watched. Sir Lancelot was obviously the man for the job.
“The list isn’t as long as I would have hoped,” Marcelo said, pulling upright and stretching his back. “But at least it’s a starting point.”
Which list? The list of mages to help teach and protect? Or the list of students?
Mordecai stood too. It took him a few seconds before he was able to straighten his back fully. I wasn’t the only one to notice. Marcelo watched him too, his worried features softening with caring. It was clear the younger and older man loved each other like son and father, even though I was pretty sure they weren’t related; they looked nothing alike.
Mordecai managed to stand fully. “It might not be as long as we’d hoped, but that doesn’t mean we won’t think of more names as we go.”
“Or that the mages we bring in might not have others to suggest themselves,” Brave said, ceasing to read over the paper on the table and standing too. “It’s very possible that our net will widen the more magicians we invite in.”
“That’s a good point,” Marcelo said. “Certainly all members of the magical world are by now aware that something is going on. If magicians are smart, they’ll make double certain those they trust with their confidences are worthy of that trust.”
“Yes,” Mordecai said. “That’ll work. Besides, though the list is somewhat short, at least we’re sure they won’t betray us. We don’t need a lot of teachers or support in protection, what we do need is security.”
Brave noticed me then, and his attention brought that of the others along with it. They stared at me, but they looked to be half lost in thought, and they didn’t look angry that I’d joined them. That was good, right?
They kept looking in my direction while I fidgeted, cleared my throat, then said the first thing that came to mind. “Is there, uh, some kind of spell or something that can be used to test alliances on the mages you invite?”
Mordecai’s eyes widened and a smile grew on his face, while Marcelo seemed to look at me with new appreciation. I tried to hide my blushing pride, certain that what I understood about magic was probably like a drop in the pool of their knowledge.
“Good one,” Brave said, looking genuine in his enthusiasm. It put me at ease. Maybe I’d be comfortable here after all... in a world of bizarre magic.
Brave turned to Mordecai, “It seems the runes were right in pointing to her brother, and indirectly her.”
Mordecai looked pleased. “The runes are never wrong. At times, they are misunderstood, but that’s the magician’s fault, not the runes’.” He smiled at me while jiggling something in a pocket of his robe, which emitted the sound of tinkling stones. The runes?
“It’s a great idea,” Marcelo said, “one I hope we would have arrived at ourselves before the new mages came. We’ll need to do it. If we were to accidentally include a secret agent of the SMS, well, it would have tragic consequences. Any safeguard we can take to guarantee the integrity of our staff is worthwhile.”
“It won’t be easy though.”
“What? Really? Surely the spell isn’t difficult for you.” Marcelo frowned.
“No, no, not the spell.” Mordecai waved a hand in dismissal. “The diplomacy of it all. Magicians, especially ones who’ve been around for a while, tend to be overly sensitive.”
“You don’t say?” Marcelo winked, then grew serious. “You mean we have to be careful not to wound their fragile egos in the process? Even when we’re obviously at war, and the necessity of a test like this is valid.”
“Especially then.” Mordecai’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Some will resist performing the test at all costs, arguing it’s beneath them.”
Brave said, “Well wouldn’t that make us suspicious of them? Surely no magician is so foolish as to insist personal pride is more important than the security of what we’re doing here.”
Mordecai and Marcelo just looked at Brave.
“Right,” Brave said. “What was I thinking?”
“Their refusal won’t be an automatic guilty ruling,” Mordecai said. “But that’s only because I know the type.”
“We shouldn’t bring them in if they don’t do the test, right?”
“Yes. That might mean we end up without some good magicians, but the integrity of our security is that important.”
“All right. Are we finished with this?” Marcelo flicked his gaze to the clock standing in the corner of the room. “It’s almost time for luncheon. I’m tired of talking; I’m ready to do.”
Mordecai waved his hands in front of him in a fluster, then he bent to rearrange the loose sheets of paper and pen that didn’t need arranging. “We haven’t selected the rest of the students yet.”
“You don’t need me to interpret the runes.”
“We haven’t discussed what approach to take for each of their circumstances either.”
“We’ll figure it out once we get there.”
“I need help composing the letters to the prospective teachers.”
Marcelo crossed his arms in front of his chest and peered at Mordecai over a tilted chin. “You definitely don’t, and delay tactics won’t work on me. We’ve figured out what we must, and I’ve given Clara and the others ample time to return. Whatever else needs to happen can wait until I get back.”
“Give it a few more minutes,” Mordecai nearly pleaded, something I hadn’t thought he’d do.
The danger must be worse than I realize... and I was chased here by a dozen SMS agents who wanted to kill me.
“What will a few more minutes accomplish?”
“More opportunity for them to return and you to stay here.”
Marcelo studied Mordecai until his features softened, apparently at
the fatherly wizard’s concern. “Fine, I’ll wait. But once the servants bring out the food, I’m leaving.”
“Understood.” Mordecai’s shoulders seemed to slump in defeat. “We can keep planning until then though.”
I suspected it was a distraction technique; it looked like Marcelo realized it too, but gave in anyway. “All right. We have teachers selected, and you’ll do the students. We can figure out who teaches what based on skills once we see who agrees to join us. And we already have the dormitory arranged for the children.”
“Well, do we continue to tell the guardians of the non-magical children we recruit that this is an elite boarding school?”
“I think we have to.”
So that’s what Mordecai had told Uncle! It made perfect sense. “Do you have to pay the guardians of all the students you recruit?”
Brave looked to me, then to Mordecai. “You had to pay to get Isadora and her brother?”
“I did, but not every guardian will be like their uncle.”
“No, I doubt they will be.” Bitterness laced my voice; I didn’t bother to hide it.
“But we’ll do what we have to do. This is too important. Besides, we have the funds.”
“To use for the academy,” Brave said.
“And this is for the academy.”
Brave seemed about to say something, but didn’t. Instead he changed the subject, for that I was grateful. “Is Sir Lancelot really going to start teaching Isadora before we have all the students lined up?”
“I think he should since he’s offered,” Mordecai said. “No point in delaying when we don’t know what might happen next. The sooner she learns, the sooner she can join our ranks in defeating the SMS.”
“Surely you don’t think that will happen all that fast,” I said.
“I’m mindful of entertaining too many preconceived notions. They have a way of turning around and biting you on the rump.”
I blushed, but he continued, unfazed. “It might happen faster than you think. It all depends on aptitude and natural leanings toward magic. You saved my life today, and you haven’t even had your first lesson in magic. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, because what else was there to say when you killed a man to save another’s life? “But surely you intend on teaching us for years before we become skilled magicians. Even learning our letters and arithmetic takes years. We can’t be expected to learn magic in less time than it takes to learn an ordinary profession.”
“And you aren’t.”
Brave said, “Mordecai, Albacus, Arianne, Gustave, and Marcelo have already devised a complete curriculum for the entire time of study.”
“Really?” I asked. “You have a curriculum?”
“You didn’t think we’d recruit you here and not have a plan at all, did you?” Mordecai asked.
I didn’t dare answer. That’s precisely what I’d thought.
Mordecai laughed, the reaction startling me.
“Clearly, that’s exactly what she thought,” Brave said.
Marcelo appraised me. “You can’t really blame her. Since she’s arrived she hasn’t actually heard too much about the studying part of the academy.”
“Then we should remedy that immediately!” Mordecai seemed thrilled by the distraction, I assumed because he hoped it’d be enough to keep Marcelo with us. He turned to me. “Isadora Soranzo, as of this moment, you are the very first student of the Magical Arts Academy. And here”—he walked over to a desk and rifled through its drawers—“is your curriculum.”
He held the papers in the air, waving them around like they held all the answers. I stood and walked over to him, and Sir Lancelot flew over to the table the men circled. “I’d like to see it too, Lord Mordecai. I’d like to study it some more and see if there are any suggestions I might make to round out the students’ progress through the magical arts academy.”
“Why of course, Sir Lancelot.” Mordecai’s voice was inflected with what seemed like false enthusiasm. His eyes trained on Marcelo, who wasn’t looking at the sheets of paper that detailed what I’d be doing for the next several years of my life.
Marcelo was looking at the standing clock. “It’s a good idea to review the curriculum with Isadora, especially if she’s to begin studying after luncheon. While you’re busy doing that, I’m going after Clara and the others.”
Mordecai opened his mouth to protest, but seemed to realize it wouldn’t help.
“I’m coming too,” Brave said.
“It’ll be dangerous. You don’t need to join me.”
“I do need to. Gertrude is there. I want to help bring her and the others back.”
The clock ticked out several seconds before Marcelo nodded. “I can respect that. Let’s go.”
When Marcelo and Brave moved to leave, Mordecai released his hold on the curriculum. It floated down to the table, where Sir Lancelot and I waited for it.
The wizard chased the two younger men out the threshold of the parlor in a swish of robes and the clinking of beads.
But my eyes were pinned on the curriculum.
‘Student curriculum for the Magical Arts Academy’ was written across the top of the first sheet in a fancy scroll. My heart thumped. I swallowed.
With shaky hands, I picked up the key to my future, and forgot about the three magicians heading toward the front door.
Chapter 10
The curriculum was divided into five years, after which it simply said, “Apprentice years,” with no clarity as to what that exactly entailed or how long the apprenticeship was expected to last. In fact, the entire curriculum was nowhere near as specific as I would have liked, and it wasn’t as detailed as I thought Mordecai had implied.
Regardless, it was more information about the academy than I’d had before. Beyond the immediate danger the SMS posed and the disappearance of my brother, wondering about the academy and what my life here would be like occupied much of my thought.
Magical Arts Academy
First Year Curriculum
Basics of Magical History
“I’ll be teaching Magical History,” Sir Lancelot said with a significant amount of pride in his voice. “All levels, even the advanced ones.”
“That’s great, Sir Lancelot. I’ll be looking forward to it.” I really was, but I also wanted to keep reading. I snapped my eyes back to the paper, hoping for no more interruptions until I got through all three pages.
Basics of Magical Spells
Basics of Runes
Basics of Spell Casting
Basics of Magical Creatures
Basics of Magical Creature Husbandry
I was getting a certain theme here. I’d be learning the basics of magic. Well good, it was exactly what I needed. With this much to learn, if I could begin after luncheon, I was ready.
Basics of Magical Protection
Now there was one class I’d definitely have to pay attention in.
Horses galloped through the courtyard and sounded like they’d turned down the long drive toward the gates. Marcelo and Brave, I assumed. How they’d pursue those who left riding a dragon and astride firedrakes, I couldn’t fathom, but it wasn’t important. No matter how little I knew Marcelo, I could already tell he wouldn’t give up on Clara until she was returned safe in his arms.
Basics in Magical Objects.
How many classes was this? And this was just the first year? How did they expect us to learn all this? But I already knew the answers to all my questions. They didn’t care how we learned it, just that we did. We were at war, and war demanded sacrifices... of everyone.
First Year Project
Hunh. That might be interesting. Would we be allowed to choose the topic of exploration we wanted?
Then a rumble sounded from above the manor, loud enough to interrupt my curiosity for my upcoming studies. What on earth is that?
The glass rattled in the window panes, and I let the curriculum drop from my hand to the table. I looked to
Sir Lancelot, who seemed unusually unflustered considering it felt like the manor was in the middle of a sudden thunderstorm.
He read the panicked questions I was sure were written all over my face: Are we under attack again? Did the SMS come back now that almost everyone who could protect the place was gone? Was Nando all right?
“It’s Humbert landing,” Sir Lancelot said.
Was that all good news? I couldn’t tell. Perhaps they were fleeing the pursuit of the SMS or—
“That dragon is ferocious and so uncouth. I’ll never understand why Lady Arianne fusses over him the way she does. There are many magical creatures around who do amazing things. All he does is fly and spout fire, not very special if you ask me. He doesn’t even talk.”
Was the owl jealous? At a time like this? “Shouldn’t we go up to the roof to see what’s going on?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, of course. Let’s go see.”
But the owl seemed moody as he took off in flight. He shed a feather in takeoff, and it landed atop the curriculum. Either he didn’t notice, which would be odd of the creature who seemed to notice everything, or he didn’t care, which would be even stranger. Never had I met a human as punctilious as this owl.
I gave a single longing look to the curriculum that would answer so many of my questions. At least I’d reached the end of the first year, since the next classes listed pertained to the second year. For now, there were more important things than preparing for the future.
There was a gigantic dragon apparently landing on the roof right this very moment.
Without another moment’s hesitation, I ran off in the direction of the stairwell. By the time I reached it, Sir Lancelot was long gone.
I gathered my skirts in my hands and bounded up the stairs, taking risers two at a time.
Chapter 11
When I pushed open the door to the rooftop, what I saw rocked me so hard that I stumbled and allowed it to close awkwardly behind me. I leaned heavily against the door and let my skirts fall around my ankles, pressing my open palms against its solid wooden surface. At least that felt familiar. I wanted to remain as I was, pressed against that relative safety forever.