Omnibus Two: Magical Arts Academy ~ Books 5-8 Read online

  Vabu would likely be close, but he’d be heading toward Miranda. No matter, surely he’d portal me back to the school before rescuing his sister. He’d understand that I needed to get back immediately, before I terrified myself any more with the random things I was doing.

  Never had I wanted to learn magic as much as I did then—anything to understand what the heck was going on with me, and how on earth I could have been in Acquaine one moment, and in Timout the next.

  I stared into the heart of the town. It looked relatively small, and though lights were starting to flash on across the little village, it was difficult to tell whether it was safe for me or not.

  Uncle was fond of telling stories of bandits and swindlers and every other kind of lowlife scoundrel, as he’d call them. I was a young girl, on my own. The residents of Timout might be lovely, but it was unlikely that all of them were. It was possible I’d run right into the rotten apples. No one would know where I was or what had happened to me.

  It’s too risky. Travel as an unescorted young woman was too dangerous, I’d decided. I turned my back on the town, squeezed the placard for good luck, and started out in the direction I hoped my supposed protector had traveled.

  My first thought was to find the water that had guided me to the town in the first place. It connected Miranda’s place with Timout, and it was the route a logical man like Vabu would take, especially since I’d given him little more to go on.

  But as I put distance between the town and me, I didn’t see the water. I didn’t even hear it.

  You can do this, Isa. I forced myself to relax. Freaking out about how very alone I was and how crazy impossible my circumstances were would achieve nothing good. You found the water before, all you have to do is find it again.

  All right. I would do this. I stopped moving entirely and closed my eyes. I unclenched my fists and my shoulders and focused on the breaths I pulled through my nose and moved deep into my stomach.

  Then I listened. I really listened, just as I had when I was in my memories, able to notice things beyond my average awareness.

  At first I observed nothing except for the rustling of leaves and the fast beating of my heart. But before long, I heard it: the trickling sound of flowing water.

  I squealed in my excitement, popped open my eyes, and walked toward the water as quickly as I could in the fading light over unknown territory.

  The water would guide me to the academy’s protector, I just knew it. He’d get me back home, which I realized with a start was exactly what I was starting to consider the academy.

  I tripped over a tree root, but kept going. I wouldn’t be discouraged. The vampire couldn’t be too far ahead. “Count Vabu?” I called out, confident now that the villagers wouldn’t hear me. “Are you here?”

  The water wasn’t far away. Its rushing was growing louder.

  “Count Vabu? Can you hear me?”

  The dusk took hold of my surroundings. I had to work to keep fear at bay. I’d long understood fear only made things worse, and it certainly wouldn’t help me in this situation.

  “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 breaking 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?