Unexpected Agents

  Awaken to Peace Press

  Copyright 2018 Lucía Ashta

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Cover design by Mirela Barbu.

  Edited by Elsa Crites.

  I strive to produce error-free books. If you discover a mistake, please contact me at luciamashta@gmail.com so I may correct it. Thank you!

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  Back cover copy

  The Academy has a new breed of teachers.

  They transform into the nightmares of legend. But they aren’t Isadora’s greatest concern.

  The Sorcerers are always one step ahead. And the magicians at the academy are all that prevent them from crushing those without magic.

  It doesn’t matter that Isadora is new to the world of powers. She’s part of the fight now. She must discover those agents, who threaten them in secret, before it’s too late… or the fight will be over before it’s really begun.

  For James, who always sees the magic in me

  When you expect the unexpected, you’ll never be disappointed.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Improbable Ally - Book 4

  Make a difference

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  Acknowledgments

  Read more by Lucía Ashta

  About the author

  Chapter 1

  “Magic has been around as long as people have,” the pygmy owl said from the front of the classroom. “Probably longer. With good reason, magic exists independently of any magician.”

  Sir Lancelot paced across the large desk in the room that had once been a private study, but had been transformed into the academy’s official classroom. That was before Gustave forgot who he was, of course. Now he didn’t remember anything about the academy, even though he’d been one of its primary organizers.

  “Magic is a force, a power that vibrates throughout all existence, invisible to most unless they know what they’re looking for. There are some who have a predisposition to magic, and they’ll sense it all along. They may not understand what it is they feel. They might identify magic as energy, a hum, something within nature they perceive, but don’t understand why or how.”

  I was in my very first lesson of magic, and I wasn’t surprised anymore that my teacher was a talking owl. A lot had happened in the three days since I’d arrived at Acquaine, the estate which housed the Magical Arts Academy. So much, in fact, that taking notes in an owl-led lecture barely seemed strange. After all, my teacher was an owl, and I was in a school for magic.

  I’d been one of those people Sir Lancelot was discussing, the kind who didn’t know magic was real even though apparently it exists all around us. I hadn’t sensed anything, no energy vibrating, unseen, around me. Nothing strange or inexplicable. I’d been oblivious.

  “Many magicians are born with the immediate ability to do magic. Even as infants, they perform untrained magic because to them, it’s instinct. They interact with the raw magic around them as easily as they breathe. It’s that natural to them.

  “Once they grow of an age when they can be taught more specific applications of magic, they’re further guided in its study. But they already have a basis of understanding that will serve them well the rest of their lives. To them, magic will always be fluid, always at the ready. It’s easily shaped to their will. These are the magicians who’ll more readily attain levels of great skill.

  “For example, let’s take Lords Mordecai and Albacus. Their parents were highly skilled magicians, and they raised their children in the magical arts from the start, including poor Oliana, before she performed a forbidden and dangerous magic and lost her life to it.”

  “Wait,” Gertrude said from a desk a row ahead of me. “Who’s Oliana?” Gertrude was no longer a cat, but a girl who looked nearly identical to her older sister Clara.

  “Oh, dear.” Sir Lancelot visibly flustered, sweeping an arcing wing across his feathered brow. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned her. Lords Mordecai and Albacus don’t talk about her often.”

  “Well, you did mention her, so who is she?”

  Sir Lancelot stared at Gertrude with wide, yellow owl eyes. “Fine. Oliana is Mordecai and Albacus’ younger sister.”

  “Their sister?” I whispered. I’d only just met Mordecai and the ghost of his brother, Albacus. Even so, it surprised me that they should have a sister. The cantankerous wizards gave me the impression it had just been the two of them for a very long time.

  The owl waved a dismissal with his wings. “Yes, well, the poor dear died hundreds of years ago. Though I guess that’s not entirely true. She didn’t exactly die, she just left her body to join her beloved in the spirit world—or something like that. Either way, let’s move on.”

  But my brother, Nando, wouldn’t let him. “Excuse me, Sir Lancelot?”

  The owl’s demeanor shifted at the evident respect in my brother’s voice. I suspected that if the owl had to choose between magic and etiquette, he’d say something like, “Life is only as important as the dignity we give it.”

  “Yes, Lord Hernando?” he said, although I’d heard my brother ask him just to call him ‘Nando’ at least twice.

  “You said Mordecai and Albacus’ sister died hundreds of years ago. Certainly, that’s a mistake. If their sister died that long ago, they would have died hundreds of years ago as well, even if they lived long lives and passed of old age.”

  Sir Lancelot smiled, a peculiar thing to behold since he had no lips. I wasn’t sure how he managed to speak at all. “Mordecai, and Albacus as well, are far superior wizards than you’ve allowed yourself to imagine, my boy. When one has a firm grasp of magic, nearly anything is possible.”

  “You’re saying.... Wait, are you saying that Mordecai and Albacus are hundreds of years old?” Nando leaned forward across his desk, looking entirely like himself, and not like someone who’d only just woken up from a misfired killing spell.

  The owl’s smile grew wider. The feathers around his eyes arched to mimic eyebrows, his eyes wide as moons. I had to bite my lip not to laugh or whimper, I wasn’t sure which. My life had grown entirely too bizarre, and this was only my first class.

  “I’m saying exactly that.” Sir Lancelot moved toward the front of the desk, where he stood in apparent triumph. “More than one of your staff have centuries of magical learning behind them. You’re very fortunate to have us as teachers.” He looked away in thought. “Though I’m not sure if we continue counting Albacus’ years now or not. He still occupies the world of the living, but he no longer lives, and I don’t think that’s something either of them will be able to fix, not with what happened to their sister.”

  “What did happen to their sister?” Gertrude asked.

  “It’s not my story to tell,” he said with a look at her, though I had the impression that this chatty owl would talk about almost anything if you gave him the opening. “Despite the fact that her story is an excellent example of why we don’t mess with dark magic, and why the Magical Council has forbidden its practice.” He peered at the girl with the flowing red hair. “You of all people should know how terrible the effects of dark magic can be, and how long lasting its effects. Animal magic was forced on you through dark magic.”

  “I like my cat,” Gertrude said, but she sounded sullen that Sir Lancelot had brought it up.

  “But you did
n’t always.” She didn’t dispute the point. “Brave knows of the dangers of dark magic as well, and I doubt he wants to speak of the effects it’s had on him, so let’s just move on.”

  But Sir Lancelot had brought it up, and Brave didn’t look happy about it. In the desk next to Gertrude, he sank into his chair and stared off into the distance, as if in that way he could protect himself from the owl’s prying.

  I studied Brave, a close copy of his uncle, Marcelo, and wondered what his story was. He and Gertrude were always together, as if they drew strength from the close company. What had happened to them?

  I felt Nando’s eyes on me and I shared a look with him. He was wondering too. We knew next to nothing about magic, but it seemed we knew less about those who were to share the academy with us. My brother and I were the only inexperienced ones. Everyone else had a history, and from the sound of it, a complicated one.

  “Can we continue with the class instead of our personal, private histories please?” Gertrude asked, sounding like she’d tacked on the please out of obligation.

  Sir Lancelot didn’t seem to notice. “Of course, of course.” He resumed his pacing across the desk. “Now, where was I?”

  “Somewhere he didn’t belong,” Gertrude muttered under her breath. But her teacher was an owl, with hearing capable of identifying a scurrying mouse miles away. From the affronted look he gave her, I was sure he’d heard her.

  I sank down in my seat, waiting for whatever scolding or rebuke was about to come.

  Sir Lancelot opened his beak to speak, then swiveled his head toward the student behind me, the man I purposefully ignored because looking at him in class with us just made me feel desperate. Gustave was a constant reminder that our self-appointed enemy, the Sorcerers for Magical Supremacy, or SMS, was playing for keeps.

  “Where are you going, Lord Gustave?” Sir Lancelot asked, sounding as upset as I felt at the actions of his unanticipated student.

  Gustave had stood up and was in the back of the classroom, studying the titles of the books that lined the walls.

  “Gustave?”

  But the man, red-haired and dignified if not for the vacuous look on his face, didn’t reply. He hasn’t forgotten his name, has he? Maybe he had. Whatever spell hit him, while he was rescuing my brother, had erased every memory of who he was. I supposed that would include his name.

  As Sir Lancelot flew over our heads to the back of the room, I made sure not to make eye contact with Nando. I didn’t want to register the guilt he felt that, because of him, this had happened to Gustave.

  Our teacher landed on the bookcase nearly in front of the grown man, who shouldn’t be a student in a beginner’s Magical History lesson. He was there because his twin sister, Arianne, hoped it would help jar his memory.

  “Gustave,” the owl said, and Gustave squealed and jumped back. He fumbled into the back of a desk, tripped, and startled even more.

  “Oh dear,” Sir Lancelot said, and it was the saddest oh dear I’d ever heard. “It’s all right. Gustave, you’re safe. Just calm down.”

  “Who are you?” Gustave asked while he cowered behind the desks.

  It would have been humorous to see an adult cowering from an owl smaller than his forearm if it hadn’t been so heartbreaking. When Marcelo and I had first arrived in Acquaine, with a pack of the SMS on our heels, he’d ridden out to help us. A strong wizard capable of taking on our enemy.

  “Why are you talking?” Gustave said, asking the question I hadn’t yet dared ask. “You’re a bird. Why are you talking to me?”

  Sir Lancelot released a heavy, grieving sigh. “Dear Gustave, I’m talking with you because I’m no ordinary owl.”

  Well, that much is obvious.

  The little owl brought his wings to his sides for a few moments, then said, “Class is dismissed for the day. I need to deal with this situation. We’ll reconvene tomorrow for our next lesson.”

  I closed my notebook, gathered my pen, and stood to leave.

  “Gertrude?” the owl said. “Will you please ask your grandmother to come?”

  “Of course.” All of her previous attitude was absent. “I’ll find her right away.” She slipped out of the room, with Brave on her heels.

  I looked to the owl and the amnesiac wizard, trying to find a way to help. But there was none, and I knew it.

  Nando took my hand. “Come on. Let’s leave them space to help him.”

  I fled from the room next to my brother, thanking everything holy that his memory hadn’t been wiped when the SMS had hit him with a spell, then feeling guilty that I had my brother when Arianne had all but lost hers.

  As if he sensed my thoughts, Nando said, “Don’t worry. I get the feeling we’re in the company of some great magicians. They’ll find the way to fix him.”

  “You’re right. They’ll get his memories back.” I tried to smile at the hope of it, but didn’t quite manage it.

  “Come on. Let’s go check on the firedrakes.”

  “Definitely.” I picked up the pace. There was no way I could focus on much else in the company of more than a dozen prehistoric-looking creatures.

  We raced up the stairs to their room.

  Chapter 2

  We ran into the large room, but while there were plenty of signs of its messy occupants, there were no actual firedrakes.

  “Huh. I wonder where they are,” Nando said.

  “I have no idea. They’re firedrakes. They fly. They could literally be almost anywhere.”

  “They seem to like it here, I doubt they’d leave.”

  “Maybe they went with Clara and Marcelo, or with Mordecai. I hope they’re safe.”

  Clara and Marcelo had left early that morning, flying on the scarlet dragon Humbert. They were on a secret mission of serving as decoy for Mordecai, who was going to recruit some new students.

  But it was a risky enterprise, no one had to tell me that. The SMS had proven they had no qualms about killing. They’d take out whomever stood in their way of revealing the existence of magic to all of humanity. The SMS’ sorcerers were through with hiding their true identities, no matter the cost to anyone else. Building our numbers, and consequently our strength, was the only way to have any real chance at opposing the SMS before they could cause further damage.

  Before departing, Mordecai had sent several dispatches to magicians, whose loyalties he trusted, so they might join our ranks. I was desperately curious to find out how he’d sent his letters inviting the magicians to join us, but he’d done it in private, and no one bothered to fill me in on the finer details of magical living.

  Even atop a dragon, Clara and Marcelo wouldn’t be safe, not when our enemy might pursue them on the backs of firedrakes. And Mordecai rode an ordinary horse—at least, I thought he did, though I’d seen little that was entirely ordinary since arriving here.

  Nando squeezed my arm, shaking me from thoughts, which didn’t accomplish anything. “Don’t think about it. You heard Sir Lancelot. Mordecai and Albacus have lived hundreds of years, though I have no idea how that’s possible. It sounded like he was saying he was hundreds of years old too, did you catch that?”

  “Oh I caught it all right. All I do is listen to try to figure out what the heck is going on. Mordecai might be old, super old, but his brother is dead. They’re not invincible.”

  “I know they’re not. None of them is. I feel just awful for what happened to Gustave.”

  Now it was my turn to distract him from unhelpful trains of thought. “Come on.” I plastered a fake smile on my face even though I knew it wouldn’t fool him. “Let’s go ask Arianne where the firedrakes are.”

  “She’ll be with Gustave.”

  And so would Sir Lancelot.... “All right, then let’s go find Gertrude and Brave.”

  He grimaced. “I’m not sure they like us much.”

  “True, though I don’t think Brave minds us in the same way Gertrude does. I have no idea what I did to make her not like me.” I deflated. What was there for us to
do? “We’ve somehow landed in the middle of a magical war, and yet there’s nothing for us to do to help in any way.”

  “That’s not entirely right. They’re relying on us to help them in the future.”

  “Yeah, in the future, like way in the future. All we can do now is get in the way.”

  “You and I get in the way? Never.” Nando puffed out his chest, patted the sword he wore religiously at his side, and took on the look of a swashbuckler. “If they don’t have the time to prepare us for war, then we’ll do it ourselves.”

  I scoffed. “For real, Nando. What are we going to do?”

  “I’m being for real. I’m going to train you in sword fighting. Not just the little bits Papá taught you, the important stuff. And then we’re going to find some books on magic, surely there’re some in one of these libraries that could help us learn some basic magic beyond its history. We’ll fill in the free time and read and train, add to that whatever we learn in actual classes, and we’ll be well on our way to being an addition to this team.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You really think that?”

  He gave me his most winning smile. “I do.”

  I smiled back; I couldn’t help it.

  “You and I, we’re a team, aren’t we, Isa? We look out for each other. We grow together.”

  “That’s right. You and me, forever together.”

  “Then let’s go find a place where I can teach you some smooth moves.”

  “You mean Papá’s moves?”