Magical Arts Academy 10: Spirited Escape Page 6

  Why was she crying like this? I couldn’t remember!

  The area we’d entered was so large that I couldn’t make out its borders. But the enormous, dark, smelly space wasn’t what was making me want to crawl out of my skin.

  The energy here was frenetic. Creatures whimpered, magicians cried and shook in fear, and others paced with a nervousness that was so intense that I had to resist the urge to brush it off.

  I wanted to leave this place like I couldn’t remember ever wanting to leave another place before. I wanted to be free of this castle. Why couldn’t we just leave?

  That’s when Arianne whirled as she paced, set on walking the same path in the opposite direction, and noticed us. “You shouldn’t have come!” she cried, repeating Albacus’ earlier sentiment. “You should have spared yourselves, darlings. You should have run free.” She waved her arms about in front of her face in sweeping, theatrical movements.

  Though I couldn’t see every face in that area of the dungeon, I had no doubt that all of them alternated looking between Arianne and us.

  “Oh no!” Gustave said as Mordecai stood from where he’d been siting next to Grand Witch Tillsdale. “Why are they here?” Gustave continued, but we all ignored him, fixated on the exchange that was about to take place between the brothers.

  Mordecai advanced on Albacus, who stood completely still while his facial features trembled with deep emotion. If he hadn’t been translucent, his vivid reaction would have suggested him very much alive.

  Mordecai drew to a stop within arm’s reach of his brother. Tears budded at the corners of his eyes, and I wondered if they were for Albacus, or just another effect of Maurisse’s blasted spell. No, definitely for Albacus, I decided. Mordecai’s hands, which hung at his sides, clenched and unclenched into fists repeatedly. He was warring with the desire to hug his brother, I realized.

  My heart thudded in sympathy for the brothers who obviously longed to be together as they had been in life. We might have found Albacus, but he was still dead.

  “Albacus,” Mordecai whispered, the emotion in his voice carrying despite the volume of Madame Pimlish’s continued lamentation.

  The ghost swallowed visibly. “Mordecai. I-I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “I feared that too, brother.” Mordecai took half a step toward him, closing the distance between them. “I’m so relieved to see you.”

  “You shouldn’t have come here.” Albacus’ face, which was already impossibly sad, somehow grew sadder.

  “How could I not?”

  “Because I want you to live.” Albacus looked around the room, taking in how many of us had come to his rescue. “Because I want everyone to live. I died. That doesn’t mean everyone else has to.”

  “They wouldn’t let me come alone.”

  I pondered that statement for a bit. Had I been given a choice? I couldn’t recall. Would I have chosen something different had I been given the option? I wasn’t sure. I was beginning to forget not only my thoughts, but how I was—who I’d crafted myself into being. That was more alarming than forgetting anything else. If I didn’t remember how I usually viewed the world around me, then what was left of me?

  I didn’t notice that my breathing was coming in panicked bursts until Nando leaned in toward me. “Isa, ¿estás bien?”

  I nodded violently, my hair sliding across my face. I brushed it away. “I’m fine.” How did I understand Spanish though? I processed the language easily, as if I’d always spoken it. “No, I’m not fine. I don’t remember anything. Why do I understand Spanish?”

  Nando’s face contorted into a mask of concern. “Have you forgotten Mamá and Papá? José and Rafael?”

  I didn’t answer; I wouldn’t. If I admitted that I didn’t remember who was clearly my family, I feared I’d dissolve into a despair that rivaled Madame Pimlish’s.

  I wasn’t sure what Nando was going to do from the way he was staring at me until he pursed his lips and nodded to himself. “That’s it. We’re getting out of here. I don’t care what it takes, we’re leaving. I’m not losing you too.”

  I wanted to reassure him that he wasn’t going to lose me, but the truth was that I feared that myself. I was beginning to feel lost in the shell of my body, as if I didn’t quite belong in my skin.

  Nando ignored the constant pacing, crying, and whimpering and rounded on Mordecai, Albacus, and Grand Witch Tillsdale, who’d moved to stand next to both of them. “Your reunion will have to wait,” my brother said. “My sister is almost lost to herself, and from the looks of things here, we’re completely out of time. There’s a spirit with us—at least, he was supposed to come along with us, I think—who remembers the exact words of the spell that’s doing this to us.”

  “Really?” Mordecai and Grand Witch Giselle asked at once, looking between Nando and Albacus.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Albacus said. “Maurisse killed Malachai of Dunai in the same way he’s attempting to kill all of you.”

  “Oh no,” Mordecai said. “Malachai? I’m so sorry to hear that. I always liked the wizard, despite his total inability to stay out of trouble.”

  “I always liked him too,” Malachai said, though Mordecai wasn’t able to hear him—I didn’t think he could, anyway.

  “Did he die here in the castle?” Mordecai asked Albacus.

  “He did, and he says Maurisse’s curse took only seven, at most eight, hours to drain his power completely.” Albacus grimaced. “As you know, once a magician’s power is drained—”

  “All that’s left to drain is his life force,” Mordecai completed. “How long have we been here?” he asked Giselle.

  “Maybe five hours.”

  “We’re in big trouble then.”

  “Huge,” she said. Then, inexplicably, she grinned. “But we thrive on getting out of tricky situations under pressure. We’ve never failed before.”

  Tricky situations? I was pretty sure this was more than tricky, and I was also sure others shared my opinion. It didn’t seem right that she should get excited about rising to the challenge. But hey, if she got us out of here, I’d forgive more than her lack of social graces.

  Nando, for one, clearly wasn’t worried about politeness any more. He cut right in. “With the words of the spell, can you undo it?”

  Mordecai, Albacus, and Giselle looked at each other. Then Giselle nodded and said, “Absolutely.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Enough with the chatter. Get on with it.”

  My mouth dropped open as I stared at my brother. I’d never heard him speak this way before. Then again, we’d never been trapped in the castle of a wicked man, who was intent on killing us.

  Giselle studied Nando until he added, “Please. I’m incredibly worried about my sister, and about everyone else here with us too.”

  Giselle stared at him some more, then broke into another out-of-place grin. “I’m just messing with you. I’ve never been a stickler for etiquette. If you ask me, it’s a waste of breath.”

  From somewhere in the dungeon, I heard an owl huff his disagreement.

  “Takes away from all the magic we can do,” she continued, contentedly ignoring Sir Lancelot and Madame Pimlish’s howls, and the discontent of the twins, Arianne and Gustave.

  “What can I do to help?” Nando asked, intent on keeping her on task.

  “I don’t know. It depends on what your magical skill set is.” She looked to Mordecai. “What can he do?”

  “We haven’t had the chance to find out yet. The runes indicated that he definitely has powers, but we don’t know what sort.”

  “So he’ll be of no help.”

  Nando bristled, tilted his chin upward in the near darkness, but didn’t protest. My poor brother just wanted to get me out of there.

  “The boy is far from useless,” Mordecai said, as if Nando weren’t standing right there. “He can corral the others, get them ready to leave the castle the moment the spell is broken. He’s right in one thing, we don’t have a moment to s
pare.”

  “Then do that,” Giselle said to Nando. “Get everyone moving up the ramp to get out of here.”

  “And the spirits?” he asked.

  “Albacus and Malachai?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “There are at least a hundred spirits here,” I interjected, figuring I was the only one among our living members to be able to see the many spirits that hovered just above us, cramped even in the large space because of how many of them there were.

  “A hundred?” Mordecai said, alarmed.

  “At least. And I promised I’d help them escape if I could.” Ha! I’d remembered. I beamed proudly at Ama, who smiled back at me.

  “Don’t tell me they’re all trapped here.”

  “Every single one of them.”

  Mordecai’s nostrils flared, and the beads in his beard and hair jingled as he shook his head angrily. “I’m going to kill Maurisse. How dare he do this to all these people? To all of us? To my brother?”

  “We’ll have to fight over the right to kill him,” Giselle said evenhandedly. “No one messes with the magical world like this and gets away with it. This is bigger than him. It’s bigger than all of us. He has to be stopped, and I fully intend on being the one to stop him.”

  “You can argue about who gets to kill him later,” Nando said. “Focus. Please. Before my sister no longer can.”

  “You got it,” Giselle said, surprising me. Suddenly, she was all business. “Malachai,” she called out. “Is the same spell that’s draining us keeping all you spirits trapped here?”

  Malachai floated down next to her face to answer. “Without a doubt.”

  The expression on her face didn’t change, but Malachai’s did. I guessed he was hoping she would be able to hear him. With a grimace, he looked to Albacus instead. “I’ve been around long enough to witness him spelling magicians so that they died. Their spirits still roam the castle along with mine.”

  Albacus took over the duty of relaying, much to my relief. “He says yes, the draining spell kills them and then traps them here.”

  “Good,” she said, even though I was sure she wasn’t aware how bad it sounded to the rest of us. “That means we only have to crack the one spell and we can get all of you—and us—out of here.”

  “Everyone but me,” Albacus said.

  “I told you all,” Gustave said from his place huddled on the floor. “We’re doomed.”

  Actually, only Albacus was apparently truly doomed, but Gustave obviously wasn’t concerned with details.

  Mordecai stared at his brother for several beats before asking the question he clearly didn’t really want to learn the answer to. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that Maurisse bound me in an additional spell. Can you see it?”

  Mordecai nodded. The soft clinking of his beads somehow sounded as mournful as he looked. “I take it you don’t know the words to this spell?”

  “Oh, I do.”

  “So then...?”

  “I tried to break this other prison spell....”

  “And?”

  “And I accidentally broke through to another world.”

  “You what?” I’d never heard Mordecai’s voice in that high of a pitch before.

  “I know, crazy, isn’t it?” Albacus offered his brother a sheepish smile. “We’d talked about it when we were younger, the possibility of other worlds. Well, now I’ve found one.”

  “You... what?”

  “Wait,” Giselle interrupted. “Why does that indicate you’ll be stuck in the castle once we break the other spell?” She didn’t seem remotely surprised by Albacus’ mention of another world. I wasn’t even trying to wrap my mind around it. That was a notion I was sure my brain couldn’t process at the moment. Following their conversation was taxing enough.

  “I suppose the clearer answer would be, either I remain in this castle, or I remain in this other world. I haven’t managed to go anywhere else.”

  “We haven’t broken the spell yet though,” Mordecai said, trying to sound hopeful though it wasn’t all that convincing.

  “It’s just a feeling I have.”

  “Then let’s hope your feeling is wrong.”

  “They rarely are.”

  “But they still are sometimes. And you’re going to be wrong now too. You’re coming home with me.” Mordecai suddenly sounded fierce. “Giselle, are you ready?”

  “I was born ready.” She winked. The mischief dancing across her face made her seem decades younger.

  I couldn’t help but like this grand witch and her feisty attitude. It was refreshing, that was for sure.

  “Clara and Marcelo, I need you here with us,” Mordecai continued. When the husband and wife immediately responded and moved to his side, he asked, “Are you both resisting the effects of the spell?”

  Marcelo replied, “We’re both holding up.” He smiled at the ghost next to Mordecai. “It’s great to see you Albacus. It hasn’t been the same without you around.”

  “It’s good to see you too, son,” Albacus said, “though I do wish for better circumstances.”

  “You and me both. What can we do to help?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Mordecai said. “Malachai, I won’t even bother asking if you’re willing to help us. You’ve always been a soldier for magic; I’m sure that hasn’t changed in death. We’re ready to hear the spell when you are.”

  Before Malachai could repeat a word of the curse hell bent on killing us and torturing us all for eternity, a particularly sharp cry of pain rang out.

  “What is it?” Nando asked right away, his hand clutching his sword like he could cut away the pain.

  Brave and Gertrude, who was back to being a girl instead of a cat, made the announcement. “We think Holly is in labor.”

  “Who’s Holly?” I asked.

  “The pregnant bitch,” Wizard Meedles said, trying to move Madame Pimlish to the side so he could see to his hound. Madame Pimlish didn’t budge, but he managed to crouch next to the hound regardless. He didn’t have to point out which one of the dogs it was. Only one of them lay prone on the floor, panting heavily.

  “My poor girl,” he said. “Such a sweet girl you are.” He ran a soothing hand across her head, which was quite a feat considering he had a rotund woman in tow. “A girl as sweet as you doesn’t deserve to have her pups in a dungeon.”

  I wasn’t sure how sweet Holly was. To me, she looked terrifying, like all of Wizard Meedles’ hellhounds. I supposed, supine like this, she might look sweet... if one didn’t mind that she still seemed like she could mow a grown man down before he could make it across the dungeon.

  “We need to get her out of here,” he said. “The spell prevents us from portaling her, so it’s on you.” He pinned Mordecai, Giselle, Marcelo, Clara, and even Albacus in a furious stare. “Get to it,” he nearly growled, though I think everyone realized he wasn’t angry at any of them, but at the situation.

  If Maurisse were to appear all of a sudden, I had my doubts as to who would get to him first. Wizard Meedles looked ready to tear him limb from limb. I didn’t imagine many dared to mess with his hounds.

  By the time I’d finished studying Holly, the other hounds who circled her in concern, Wizard Meedles, and Madame Pimlish, I was surprised to find that the magicians charged with the task to free us were hard at work.

  Malachai was already repeating the start of the spell to Albacus, who spoke the words aloud for the others.

  I clamped my mind down on what Malachai was saying as Nando settled protectively at my side, apparently unwilling to start ferrying the troops until he’d heard the spell.

  There was nothing for me to do but listen and hope. Before Malachai had spoken the next sentence, my focus drifted, and all that remained was hope.

  Hope that we’d all survive. Hope that we’d all get out of here. That we’d find a way to liberate even Albacus, and that Holly would deliver her pups free of this hellhole. Even if she had them just outside, that would be something,
as long as she didn’t have to have them here, where hopes came to die.

  Wizard Meedles had already lost a hound to Miranda’s dark magic. I knew this was serious to him.

  The words of Maurisse’s dark magic swirled around me, but didn’t penetrate.

  I wished we’d soon be free, until I forgot even that.

  Chapter 8

  I had no real way to tell exactly how long it took Malachai to recount Maurisse’s spell. Everything in my mind was muddled, and I had no doubt accuracy was no longer possible. It did seem, however, as if it had been a long while, which translated to it being a long spell. I guessed that the longer a spell, the more complicated it was.

  When Albacus finished relaying the last of the spell, he, Mordecai, Giselle, and even Marcelo and Clara were silent, apparently milling over the content of the spell.

  “Well?” Nando finally prompted. “Can you break it?”

  “Oh, we can break it all right,” Giselle said. “We just have to figure out how.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” I sensed Nando’s body growing rigid next to mine.

  “That means that every spell can be broken,” Marcelo supplied. “But some are easier to break than others. It all depends on the specific spell. Some are damn near impossible to break.”

  “Is this one?” Walt asked, startling me when his voice came from somewhere behind me. I’d forgotten about him.

  “It’d better not be,” Wizard Meedles growled. “I’m getting my girl out of here.”

  By the way Madame Pimlish’s face lit up, I suspected she thought he was referring to her. To the rest of us, I imagined it was obvious he’d been speaking of his hound.

  He stomped forward a few steps, dragging Madame Pimlish along. “Mordecai, Giselle, Albacus, you can’t give up. There’s no one more skilled at magic than the three of you, especially when you combine your skills. You have to get my girl out of here.”