Improbable Ally (Magical Arts Academy Book 4) Page 3

  She picked up a well-worn book, which I hadn’t noticed before, from the desk to the side of the chalk board. “I carry my spell book with me nearly everywhere. You never know when inspiration will strike for the perfect spell, with just the right words. Make sure you bring yours to every class. We’ll make good use of them.”

  Which meant I’d have to find one. We hadn’t been assigned any real supplies beyond immediate necessities. It felt like a time of war in more ways than one.

  “Now,” Madame Pimlish began, but Gertrude shot her hand up before she could get going.

  “Yes, Gertrude?”

  Oh, so she calls her by her name, while we’re just you. Sitting in one of Madame Pimlish’s classes felt a bit like being back with Uncle.

  “Do transformations always work that way? Or can they be done without spells?”

  “It’s rare, but there are some cases where the magician can transform without any kind of spell. But in those limited cases, the magician can only transform into one animal. It’s always the same one, at least that’s what I’ve experienced.”

  Gertrude nodded. She was obviously asking about her own experience.

  “Is it possible to be able to transform into this one animal without even setting up a spell to do it in the first place? I mean, is it possible just to think about the animal and become it?”

  Madame Pimlish leaned against her desk. “I’ve heard that you transform into a cat. Is this what these questions are all about?”

  “Yes.” Gertrude looked around her, but then proceeded. I didn’t think she liked having the audience, but suspected the topic was too important for her to remain silent. “I don’t really know how I do it, just that it happens.”

  “All you do is think of your cat and you become her?”

  Gertrude nodded.

  “Well, that’s very special indeed.”

  “Do you know how it happens? Why it happens? I mean, I know why it happened in the first place, but I don’t know why it happens now.”

  “I think you’ll need to explain better than that. Please, it will serve as a learning experience for the rest of the pupils.”

  I was certain Gertrude didn’t care about the rest of us, other than to want us gone from there. Maybe she would’ve allowed Brave to stay.

  “I was forced to become a cat the first time. I was cursed.” Her words were terse.

  “It’s unfortunate, but it does happen. Once magicians become skilled at transforming themselves, they can project that transformation outward, and force it on others. Who cursed you?”

  Gertrude didn’t answer.

  “Out with it, girl. The more information you provide me with, the better I’ll be able to answer your questions.”

  “Count Washur.”

  “Oh my.” Madame Pimlish, suddenly flustered, started pacing the room between her desk and ours. “No wonder you didn’t want to say. Oh dear, that’s truly something.” She seemed to take in Gertrude’s expression, and added, “What an awful experience for you.”

  “He cursed me into the body of a cat, but then when he died, his magic died with him, and I was released from his spell.”

  “Yes, that makes perfect sense. That’s how it works. When a sorcerer dies, his magic goes with him, which means any ongoing enchantments disappear too.”

  “That’s what we all thought. But I can still become a cat, only now I do it at will.”

  Madame Pimlish paced some more. “That’s a most peculiar problem, indeed. It certainly doesn’t usually occur like that. Hmm.” She spun on her heel to walk in the other direction, and her dress swirled with her.

  “No one here understands why it happens like this. They all thought my cat form would end along with him. That’s why I’ve been really eager to ask you. Once Grand-mère told me you were being invited to join us, I just knew I needed to talk with you. There’s no one who grasps transformation better than you.”

  It didn’t sound as if Gertrude were flattering our teacher. I didn’t think she was capable of the act. Her words sounded like genuine admiration. I studied our teacher, trying very hard to look beyond her squeaky voice and bothersome mannerisms.

  “I’ll give it some more thought, Gertrude, I promise you that, but I do have an idea right now, and I have the feeling that it might be the reason why this continues to happen with you. I don’t know your story, but I do suspect that, if Count Washur was involved, it isn’t a happy one. Am I right?”

  “Yes.” Gertrude’s expression was firm, as if she wouldn’t allow herself to examine her emotions surrounding this Count Washur.

  Madame Pimlish nodded, her orange hair sliding with the movement. “Tragedy maps pathways within our beings. If you suffered while interacting with Count Washur, and at least some of that time he forced a cat transformation on you, then it would seem that the tragedy carved this magic into you. Does that make sense to you?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “What it means is that even once his magic died with him, and he could no longer force you into the transformation, the way to the transformation had already become an engraved part of you. The tragedy forced the pathway to the transformation into your emotions, into your grief, so that now your cat is a part of you.”

  “I see.”

  “I think it likely something like this is what happened, which makes your case a most interesting one indeed.”

  Gertrude nodded, her face carefully free of any emotion. I caught Brave looking at her, worried for her.

  For once Madame Pimlish seemed to care about someone other than herself. She offered Gertrude what looked like genuine compassion. “I imagine that whatever happened with Count Washur must have been horrible. But you can claim your cat as your own. It needn’t have anything to do with him anymore.”

  “How can it have nothing to do with him anymore when I’m his widow?” Gertrude hurried from her seat. “Please excuse me,” she mumbled as she ran from the room.

  “Oh dear,” Madame Pimlish said again. “Brave, you’d better go check on her. The rest of you, I think that’s enough for today. Your attempts at transformation will have to wait. Class is dismissed.”

  But I barely heard her. All I could think was, Gertrude, who looked to be about my age, was this dastardly Count Washur’s widow? How awful. My heart squeezed for her as I got up from my seat and started moving, feet leaden.

  The world of magic was most definitely a dangerous one. I feared we’d be flung into the heart of it far before we were ready.

  Chapter 3

  Nando and I made it only a few steps down the hall that connected the study, turned classroom, to the rest of the house when we heard a symphony of barking. It sounded like dogs—a great many dogs.

  “What the heck is that?” Nando asked.

  I shrugged, searching down the hall for signs of a pack of dogs. They were clearly inside the manor. Their calls were far too loud to be outdoors, even if many of the windows hung open to the pleasant day.

  Up ahead of us, Walt took off running, and even the reserved Marie gathered her skirts in her hands and tore down the length of the hallway.

  In a beat, Nando and I were on their tails.

  “What the devil is all this ruckus about?” Madame Pimlish’s voice boomed behind us, but there was no way the roundish woman would move as fast as Nando and me.

  When Walt skidded to a stop, I couldn’t help smacking into him. Nando, instead, came to a graceful halt next to Marie.

  “Sorry. You shouldn’t stop so suddenly,” I told Walt. Despite my apology, he seemed annoyed with me. But his annoyance lasted only a moment.

  “I’m trying to pinpoint where the howling is coming from. Can you tell?” He looked at his sister.

  “No, and now they’re completely silent. Oh. Never mind.”

  They weren’t silent but for a second, seemingly only to draw breath so that their next calls might be all the more ferocious. The closer we drew, the louder—and more vicious-sounding—their barks.

&n
bsp; “We don’t really know the manor,” Walt said. “You must since you’ve been here longer. Where do you think they are?”

  I stared at him, amazed that he believed we actually knew something.

  Nando said, “We’ve barely been here, and we haven’t really been allowed to explore. Your guess is as good as ours.”

  “What are you doing blocking the hall like this?” Madame Pimlish’s booming voice threatened to overpower the sound of barking. “Hurry along. Surely you have things to do.”

  She whisked past us, moving surprisingly fast for someone whose legs were so much shorter than mine.

  “Come on,” Marie said, taking Walt’s hand. They followed Madame Pimlish down the hall, and Nando and I followed them.

  We took two more turns through the labyrinth that was the manor before Madame Pimlish’s voice reached us again.

  “Ah! What are you doing here?” Her voice was elevated to alarming rates.

  Oh boy.

  If she received a response, I didn’t hear it. Nobody else’s voice registered at her volume level.

  “You shouldn’t be allowed out of your home, let alone to join a distinguished magical academy! Who invited him here? Who?”

  We stopped behind Walt and Marie. From where we were, we could see—and definitely hear—just fine. We understood from experience how loud Madame Pimlish could get when she was upset. The farther away from her mouth we were, the better.

  She was stalking Arianne, Gustave, and Mordecai, whose expressions ranged from regretful to reluctant to desperate to get away from the raging woman. Count Vabu, who stood next to the man with all the dogs, was the one to reply.

  “Prudence, you must know that Marcus is a gifted wizard. We’re lucky he’s agreed to join us. Or have you forgotten that we need all the help we can get?”

  Madame Pimlish stomped all the way up to the edge of Marcus’ dogs, with a clear intent to keep going until she got right up into Count Vabu’s face, or perhaps Marcus’. But the dogs wouldn’t allow it.

  The dogs, all as large as any mastiff I’d ever seen, drew their lips back and snarled. The sound was deadly, probably the same one many creatures heard just before their swift deaths; it made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

  I clutched at Nando’s elbow. Certainly Madame Pimlish wouldn’t care enough about any perceived affront to allow herself to be mauled by dogs?

  But I wasn’t entirely sure, and as much as I didn’t particularly care for the woman, I didn’t wish for her to be eaten alive by a pack of gigantic dogs.

  Madame Pimlish looked down at the dogs, up to the Count and Marcus, then back at the dogs. “Oh, what, you little beasts. Get over yourselves. If I wanted to, I could transform into an animal big enough to take you all down. Maybe a bear, how about that? So why don’t you simmer down already, and stop making a fuss over nothing?”

  I nearly chuckled at the ridiculous nature of her statement, but I didn’t want her attentions on me, so I bit my tongue. I wasn’t sure her bear would be enough to take on the vicious dogs intent on defending their master, though it was difficult to imagine Madame Pimlish in a form more menacing than her current one.

  Even though she was petite, more round than tall, she leaned forward, hands on hips. Her eyes bulged and her face was flushed.

  The dog at the very front growled at her, a low, menacing sound that had me taking a step backward, even half a room away from it.

  “Oh hush, you.” And Madame Pimlish slapped the dog on the nose.

  Even the dog seemed surprised she’d done that as gasps circled the room.

  “Prudence,” Arianne said, her voice replete with her disbelief.

  A few long, eternal seconds drew out while the occupants of the room froze in their shock.

  Then all hell broke loose, as if Marcus’ dogs were the very devil’s hounds.

  The dogs started snapping at Madame Pimlish, with every intention of mauling her to shreds. They tugged on their leads, and Marcus looked to be struggling to hold onto them, even though he was a man as tall as Count Vabu, and twice as wide. He pursed his lips in effort, his arm muscles bulging beneath his shirt. He bent his legs to better connect to the polished wood floor.

  “Dammit, woman, why are you always causing so much trouble?” he bit out.

  Madame Pimlish, the only one who appeared unnerved by the full-on attack aimed at her, glared at Marcus. “You turned me into a pigeon!” she all but roared. The dogs’ struggles to reach her were so loud that her voice merged with their sounds.

  “You dared to use transformation magic on me, the greatest transformation witch there is.”

  “As I recall, you got a dose of your own medicine.” Marcus’ voice was calm despite the frenetic energy of his dogs and the strength it must have required to keep them from biting into our teacher.

  “Uh.” Madame Pimlish gasped. “I never... I’ve never... how dare you? I’ve never used my powers to transform others against their will, and I never would. That’s dark magic, and that is something I don’t do.”

  Marcus stared at her, as if he alone were impervious to the chaos around us. He seemed to be studying her and the veracity of her statements. He must have believed her, because he finally said, in that deep, gravelly voice of his, “It appears that I was misinformed then, and I acted on an erroneous impression. I apologize if I caused you harm.” He bowed from the waist to her.

  She tilted her upturned nose further up into the air. “Hmnh.”

  “At least I returned you to your beautiful current form before long.”

  I thought I saw a smile want to turn up the corners of Madame Pimlish’s prim mouth.

  “Please accept my apology and let’s begin anew.” His deep eyes pinned Madame Pimlish in their sight while he waited.

  I could barely think with all the noise. Their master might be discussing a truce, but his dogs weren’t aware of it. Drool dripped from their foaming mouths as their muscles strained to reach their target.

  Then Marcus, in a level voice, told his pack of dogs, “That’s enough.”

  As if he’d enchanted them with a spell, they immediately quieted down, their snarls becoming pitiful whimpers. They sheathed their teeth, circled the spots where they stood a few times, then settled on the ground around their master’s feet.

  All curled up, the savage beasts transformed into lovable dogs, just like that. As their breathing deepened, and some even started to snore, I found myself unable to make sense of the situation.

  “Well, Madame Pimlish, what do you say? Will you allow me to carve out a much different future for us than one colored by our past?”

  Strange words. But then, the look on Madame Pimlish’s face was odd too. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say she was flirting. But that couldn’t be... she’d only just held murderous intentions toward the man. Surely no woman was that unbalanced.

  “I will allow you the opportunity to enter my good graces,” she said, as if that were a generous allowance. Then she smiled at him, swiveled on her small heels, and walked back the way she came. Her hips swayed more than they usually did as she prepared to leave the room.

  It was clear from the look on Marcus’ face that he wasn’t missing a moment of the show she was putting on for him, and him alone.

  Yuck. I tucked my face into Nando’s shoulder. He chuckled faintly, not loudly enough that Madame Pimlish would hear as she sashayed past us.

  We all remained silent until the lit fuse exited the room. Then Arianne, looking unusually flustered, spoke, while patting her hair to make sure it was still in place. “Well, that was, ah, quite the arrival. You sure know how to make an entrance, don’t you, Marcus?” She laughed a bit nervously.

  She moved from Gustave and Mordecai’s sides, approaching the newcomer. For the first time, I realized that neither Brave nor Gertrude, or Marcelo and Clara were there. I suspected Brave was consoling Gertrude, but the others? Maybe they were checking on Humbert. From what I’d managed to overhear, the dragon’s reco
very wasn’t going as smoothly as everyone had hoped.

  “If you already know how to deal with our darling Prudence, then you’ll do quite fine here at the academy.” She gave another nervous laugh, and approached the man, stopping short of his resting dogs.

  Marcus laughed, and I instantly liked him, despite knowing absolutely nothing about him. But how could you not like someone with such a booming laugh? It completely replaced all of Madame Pimlish’s hysterics, leaving me feeling calm and happy.

  “She is a spitfire, that one, isn’t she?” He said it like it wasn’t in the least an insult.

  “You can say that again,” Gustave muttered under his breath, and the rest of the adults burst out laughing, erasing any remaining tension in the room.

  “Children,” Arianne said, “this is Wizard Marcus Meedles. We weren’t sure he’d agree to join us, so we haven’t yet decided what he’ll teach you, but whatever it is, I have no doubt it will be fascinating.” She returned her attention to the small giant of a man, who was all burly beard and smiles now. “These are quite some animals you have here.”

  Yeah. They’re terrifying, I thought.

  “They’re lovely,” Arianne said.

  “Totally lovely,” I muttered under my breath before I could catch myself. Thankfully, only Nando heard me, and laughed just as softly.

  Arianne bent at the waist to better examine the dozing dogs. Given the show they’d already put on, there was no way I’d be getting close to them. No way.

  “So loyal,” she was saying, her voice starting to take on that cooing tone she used with the firedrakes, especially hers, Mathieu. “So fierce.” She said it like it was a good thing.

  “Do you think it would be all right if I touched them?” Her question was clearly geared to Marcus, although she was riveted by the sleeping dogs.

  “They don’t ordinarily like anyone but me, but with your reputation, go ahead and try. I’m curious to see if they take to you.”