Questionable Rescue (Magical Arts Academy Book 5)

  Copyright 2018 Lucía Ashta.

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Awaken to Peace Press.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously or are entirely fictional. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to luciamashta@gmail.com.

  Cover design by Mirela Barbu.

  Edited by Elsa Crites.

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  About the book

  Magic waits for no one. And Isadora was behind from the start.

  The wicked sorceress Miranda has her right where she wants her, and mercy isn’t on the menu.

  Isadora has no idea how to take down a sorceress. She hasn’t even had the chance to master basic magic.

  But that won’t stop her from trying. She’s the only one who can prevent Miranda from exposing magic to the masses and pitting the academy in a brutal war against them.

  Will Isadora find the way to harness her abilities in time? Or will violence engulf the magical world?

  For Sonia, whose constant love inspires me

  An undying belief in magic keeps the heart young.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Sorcerers’ Web - Book 6

  Make a difference

  Acknowledgments

  Read more by Lucía Ashta

  About the author

  Chapter 1

  The sudden stillness disturbed me more than the churning movement of traveling through the portal. I’d lost my hold on the image of the Magical Arts Academy and its colorful gardens, I was sure of it.

  I didn’t know how long it had lasted, but I was certain there’d been moments when I thought of absolutely nothing. When there was a deep and all-consuming blackness, during which I’d barely been anything at all.

  And I’d been the one holding the portal open for everyone else... apparently. Had I failed them all?

  I hadn’t bothered asking what would happen if we didn’t manage to keep the portal open; I figured I wouldn’t like the answer. Surely it was something along the lines of us getting broken into pieces, or being lost to any concrete world forever. Since first arriving at the Magical Arts Academy, I’d learned one thing for certain: the consequences of magic gone wrong were dire.

  Marie and Walt had gone through the portal ahead of me. I gulped painfully. And Nando, he’d gone through right in front of me. Had he made it? Was he in one piece? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’d done anything to hurt him.

  With a pang, I thought of Priscilla, Count Vabu’s sister. She’d helped us in the end. But by doing so, she’d delivered herself to the sorceress Miranda’s clutches when her duplicity became evident with our escape.

  She hadn’t made it. We’d left her to her death—no doubt, a painful one. The thought tugged at my chest until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I squeezed my eyelids shut, knowing that the moment I opened them I’d be confronted with undeniable proof of either my success or devastating failure. Was I able to keep the portal open long enough for everyone to travel through to the academy?

  It was far too quiet for me to have succeeded. I didn’t hear birds chirping, and they were ever-present in the gardens. I didn’t scent the penetrating fragrance of the blooms, which I could usually smell the moment I stepped outside. And I didn’t feel Nando. He’d gone through only a few moments before me. If he’d made it, my protective brother would be scrambling to reach my side to check if I was all right.

  A sob squeaked from my chest at that realization; I couldn’t hold it back.

  But... wait. I didn’t hear it. I cried out, but only silence remained.

  My eyes flew open, and at the sight of my surroundings another silent sob burst from my chest, only this time it was one of relief.

  There was so much movement around me! But all in absolute silence. Sir Lancelot swooped low in the skies; firedrakes flew above him. Terrifying-looking hellhounds charged across the gardens at full speed. Gertrude as a cat raced too, but she kept a healthy distance from the hounds. Smart cat.

  I pushed to my elbows and winced. Everything hurt. Every bit of me was spent.

  All around, the magicians of the Magical Arts Academy were panicked. They rushed in from different directions, looking harried. That’s not a good sign. These magicians didn’t bat an eye at things that shocked and amazed me. For them to be frightened didn’t bode well.

  A fresh wave of panic bloomed in my chest at the realization that I hadn’t seen Nando yet. I swiveled my head sharply to the left. Pain shot through my neck and down my spine.

  Gustave slid to a stop in front of Marie, crashing to his knees beside her. He bent over her, talking. I couldn’t hear, but his lips were moving.

  She wasn’t.

  I froze. I didn’t even breathe while I studied every one of Gustave’s tight features, begging to see relief spread across them.

  He reached both hands to her shoulders and shook. Her head rolled, and her long, blonde hair shimmered behind her in the sunlight.

  He spoke and shook her again with the same result. He looked up, alarm written across his face.

  He signaled with his arms at someone, and I wondered who until Mordecai ran toward both of them, moving much faster than I figured a man his age, dressed in long, swishy robes, might run.

  Mordecai slumped to his knees and bent low over Marie. She still wasn’t moving.

  My eyes were wet by the time I forced myself to look away. I still couldn’t hear a thing, and the absence of sound was worrisome when I saw clear signs of everyone’s distress. They were yelling, crying, and calling out.

  And yet I felt separate from everything, as if I’d remained in the portal, alone, suspended in a nothingness I might never be free of.

  I turned my neck more to the left and was rewarded with another crushing scene of Arianne and Count Vabu bent over Walt’s prostrate body.

  My lungs seized in my chest until I managed to force a breath through them. Walt wasn’t responding to them either.

  I’d obviously managed to hold the portal open long enough for all of us—well, except for Priscilla—to return to Acquaine, but it looked as if I might have killed my friends.

  An encompassing numbness sprouted in my heart, and I prayed it would spread, to consume me before I found Nando. I wouldn’t be able to take the sight that I’d failed him. I didn’t want to cause anyone harm, of course, but if I’d irreparably hurt him, I’d shatter.

  I pushed through the struggle of holding my head up and started turning it the other way. I was desperate to find Nando, but my body wasn’t moving as quickly as I prompted it to.

  Once I managed to swivel my head forward, I yanked it back and winced at the fresh pain. Brave and Marcelo were suddenly there, in my personal space, similar faces and eyes wide with worry.

  “Where... where’s my brother?” I couldn’t hear my words, but I knew they were slurred. They stumbled across an unwieldy tongue.

  Marcelo said something I couldn’t make out before his fa
ce and that of his nephew blurred even more.

  Nando! He must be the reason they looked so devastated.

  “Where... he? Him?” I slurred again. I wasn’t sure my mouth was working properly.

  Marcelo and Brave shared a look before moving even closer to me. At this distance, I should have been able to feel their heat, breath, and scent. But... nothing. It was as if I were no more than a projection of my usual self... or they were the projections.

  My mind swirled as I felt my hold on reality fading.

  No! I had to find Nando. I had to see him. I had to know what had happened to the brother who was everything to me, the only person in the world who was always there for me.

  I blinked the cobwebs away and tried to push to sitting.

  Marcelo and Brave shook their heads and each reached a hand to one shoulder and tried to keep me from moving. They began to guide me gently back down to the ground. No, not just ground, grass. I felt the crisp blades beneath my fingers. It was the first concrete assurance that I’d indeed returned to a physical world, and I relished it... though maybe I wouldn’t for long. What happened in the physical world was irreversible.

  I had to find my brother. I tried to shake my head, but that only caused the uncle and nephew magicians to swirl in my vision. Once they began swirling, everything did. My stomach dropped—or maybe it rose—and I could no longer tell top from bottom. I no longer had a sense of the accuracy of anything, and that was as terrifying as not finding Nando.

  The world around me tilted, and I had no choice but to allow my body to fall to the ground. Solid arms caught me and lowered me to the grass. Waves of disorientation swelled within me as readily as nausea. I pursed my eyes shut to make it go away, but it didn’t, and I flung them open again in an attempt to find something steady to hold onto.

  As the world upended again, my head lolled to the other side.

  Nando. I didn’t even manage a gasp of surprise. All my strength had fled in my attempts to hold onto this world, the one I hoped contained my brother.

  He’s here. Like a drunkard, I no longer remembered what I was supposed to make of the thought. He, too, seemed unmoving, but I couldn’t be sure. Clara, Madame Pimlish, and Wizard Meedles crowded over him, mostly blocking him from view.

  He was close. If I stretched my arm, and he stretched his, we’d almost reach each other.

  My arms seemed as useless as those on a rag doll as I admitted to myself that I’d lost this fight. With a profuse sadness, I allowed my eyelids to drop shut.

  The world spun until I finally let go of it. My tears rested on my cheeks in unmoving pools.

  Chapter 2

  The first thing I heard was a whiny, high-pitched ringing, and I immediately missed the dense silence from before. But when I opened my eyes and saw Nando’s warm brown eyes staring down at me, I’d take all the ringing in the world.

  My face broke into a huge smile of relief. Nando was here, looking as well as he always did—except for his hair stuck up all over his head, and his clothes as if they’d been spit out by a whirling dervish.

  His lips were moving, and though I still couldn’t make out the words, I heard muted sounds. I’m not deaf. I didn’t realize until that moment that I’d feared never hearing again.

  Nando’s smile froze on his face as he noticed I wasn’t following what he was saying. He inched closer, as if that would help, and seemed to repeat what he’d said before. The sounds of his speech were louder, but his words, no clearer.

  His eyes pierced mine as he searched—for what, I don’t know—but it was soon obvious he didn’t find what he was looking for.

  He brought a hand against my shoulder, pressing me gently. But then he turned around and called out. His shout wasn’t loud, but his panic was unmistakable.

  I tested things by moving my head against the grass. The world still swirled, but it did less so. Less swirling still meant swirling, and all I wanted was to be still, and have the world be still along with me. Now that I’d verified that Nando was well, I could rest as long as my body needed to rid itself of these unsettling effects. I never imagined I’d long so deeply for stillness and a return to quiet.

  But then, I’d never imagined a single thing that had happened to me since I’d come charging through the gates of the Acquaine estate atop Trixie’s back. With evil sorcerers on my trail, I should have assumed then that life would be one exhilarating—and terrifying—ride from that point forward.

  Nando’s attention was back on me, roving my body. When his eyes trailed down my legs, I became aware that I didn’t feel them. In fact, I hadn’t felt them since I stepped through the portal in Miranda’s dungeon. I attempted to move them, but just the thought of it exhausted me, and I gave up.

  I stared up at my brother instead. He was freaking out, I could tell, but all I managed to do was smile at him, to show my joy that he was well. To try to tell him that I loved him, because in moments like these everything distills itself into simple notions: love, joy, peace. They were enough; all the rest was irrelevant details.

  The smile made my cheek muscles ache at first, but then I settled into it.

  My smile calmed Nando’s panic. His shoulders lowered in relaxation—or perhaps resignation—and he offered me his own smile. It was shaky, but I still loved it.

  Te quiero, Nando. The sentence sang through my mind. I wished I could get my lips to form the words I wanted to share with my brother, but from the look on his face, I thought he might understand anyway.

  Then chaos swarmed me again, and I didn’t succeed in holding onto my smile. Nando was shoved out of the way. A whimper escaped me, but I wasn’t sure if I’d made any sound. The ringing was so loud!

  Suddenly everyone was there, cramping me, peering down at me. Arianne and Mordecai knelt next to me and fussed. Arianne ran hands along my body while Mordecai’s lips moved faster than my foggy brain could process.

  He began to move his hands in front of his face. Mesmerized, I watched them carry on ever-morphing movements until the motion was too much for me, and it began to slosh the world around me, further ripping me from the stillness that I needed.

  I tore my eyes from what Mordecai was doing—a healing spell, I imagined—and focused on the concerned magicians and creatures behind him. Clara, Marcelo, Brave—with Sir Lancelot perched on his shoulder—and Gertrude peered down at me. Gertrude chewed at a fingernail, looking anxious. Gustave was there too, as were Count Vabu, Madame Pimlish, and Wizard Meedles, who clutched Madame Pimlish’s hand. The woman looked more flustered than I imagined she would when the concern was for someone other than herself.

  Sylvia and Mathieu peeked from the back. And there, right next to the long-faced firedrakes, were Walt and Marie! They leaned on each other for support. Their appearances were rougher than usual, but they otherwise looked well enough.

  I slumped in relief into the grass, thankful it wasn’t moving much anymore. I hadn’t killed my brother, and I hadn’t killed Marie or Walt. It seemed that we’d abandoned Count Vabu’s sister to her death, but I didn’t think that was my fault. That I’d managed to open a portal at all, let alone hold it long enough, was a total miracle—one I hadn’t even begun to come to terms with.

  It had been I—not Marie or Walt, who had experience in magic, and not Nando, who was better at everything than I was—who had portal magic.

  I opened a portal. I do have magic after all! I could barely believe it.

  A light was building between Mordecai’s hands, and it drew me back to him and Arianne. Whatever he was doing, it must be nearly at its pinnacle. Unlike the magic balls he’d formed on the rooftop of the manor and launched at the attacking sorcerers, this magic didn’t coalesce into a distinct form. Vibrating threads of orange light spread between his fingers like a game of cat in the cradle, multiplied a few hundred times.

  The edges of the magical threads were smudged. Everything about this magic lacked crisp definition. But there was no doubt it was building strength. The hair on my ar
ms stood on end, and the hair on my head slowly floated upward. Through my peripheral vision I could make out a halo of chestnut strands.

  Mordecai looked as if he were struggling to hold onto the magic he was building. His lips pursed in concentration.

  Then the beads that capped the braids in his beard stopped moving. He’d stopped speaking.

  Is the spell complete? I wondered hazily.

  Arianne yanked Nando back and out of the way.

  The magic Mordecai held in his grasp appeared to be trying to leap from his hold. He stuck the tip of his tongue out in concentration. He looked like a child instead of a three-hundred-eighteen-year-old wizard.

  But that was the last of wandering thoughts I managed. The ringing intensified so suddenly that I tried to clutch at my head to protect my ears, but my hands were leaden, limp against the grass.

  I couldn’t handle it anymore—the constant sloshing movement, which churned my insides and made my head feel as if it were anchorless, resumed in full force.

  I wasn’t strong enough for this.

  Tears leaked from my eyes as I gave everything I had to resisting the pain.

  But it only grew worse.

  Mordecai released the orange strands of vibrating magic. He guided thousands of jumping, stretching, reaching threads to envelope me.

  They wound around me like constrictor snakes. My breath left me in a panicked rush.

  I was about to give up, to give in, to let myself be swept away, hopefully to somewhere where the pain wouldn’t follow.