The Last of the Firedrakes Page 22

  The old professor did not look surprised. He assessed Erien and Vivienne for a second and turned to me. “Explain.”

  I told him everything that Damien said about the key. I didn’t tell him about my night visit to the city with the Blackwaters though. I only said that I overheard them talking in the library. I didn’t need to get myself into more trouble than I was in already. The old professor listened carefully and didn’t interrupt until I finished my story.

  “This time the Blackwaters have gone too far,” the mastermage said. “The Book of Abraxas must never be opened.”

  “Why?” I asked, my eyes going wide. This sounded serious. What was Morgana up to now?

  “It is only because of who you are that I am telling you this,” said Professor Dekela. “And it seems that you obviously trust your cousin and your roommate here, so I will allow them to hear what I have to say, since I think you will probably tell them everything anyway.”

  Embarrassed I looked down. He was right, of course.

  He looked at Vivienne. “I won’t say this again, Ms. Foxmoor. I hope you know that whatever we talk about here must never leave this room.”

  Vivienne nodded fervently.

  “The Grimoire of Abraxas,” said Professor Dekela, turning back to me, “also known as The Book of Power, is considered to be the most dangerous and mysterious manuscript of all time. It contains magic thought to be long forgotten, magic that existed before the age of the first kings, even before the fae came to this world. Many believe it to be only a legend, but the Grimoire of Abraxas does exist. It was locked with four magical keys, which were hidden in remote locations all over Avalonia to prevent it from ever being opened. The key that was stolen is one of them.”

  He took out an old, worn leather-bound book from one of the shelves and opened it on the table in front of us. “Is this what the key looked like?” he asked pointing to the page.

  I looked at the diagram drawn in the book—four triangles, all of them fitting together to form a larger one. “This is it,” I said. “Damien had one of these triangular keys.”

  “Why it is so dangerous?” Erien said, moving Vivienne out of the way to get a better look at the page.

  “The Grimoire of Abraxas, gives the one who opens it the knowledge to control demons,” said the professor, closing the book.

  “Demons!” I repeated. “Are you serious?”

  Professor Dekela nodded solemnly and continued. “And not just any demon, but the Book of Abraxas contains the secret to controlling the most powerful of all demon lords ever to have lived—Dragath.”

  “Is that even possible?” I asked, horrified. “Uncle Gabriel said that Dragath has been gone for thousands of years, trapped in a magical prison.”

  “That is what the legends say,” answered Professor Dekela.

  “But, if Dragath is gone,” Vivienne said, looking pale, “how can Morgana control him with the book?”

  “I don’t know,” said the old professor, shaking his head. “Maybe she doesn’t intend to control Dragath himself. But there are other demons and demonic beings that exist in other worlds that are connected to ours, and the Drakaar can summon them. If Morgana manages to open the book, she will possess the knowledge to control the demons and make them do her bidding. That will be the end of our world as we know it. Demon magic is much more powerful than the magic of the mages or even the fae. A mage who can control demons can rule the world.”

  “Do you think that Morgana already has the book?” I asked. “Or do you think the Blackwaters are doing this on their own?”

  Professor Dekela shook his head. “The book is safe for now,” he said as we put everything away and climbed the steep staircase to the school library. “But I don’t think that the Blackwaters would pursue magic this powerful on their own. The only ones who would be able to wield this sort of dark magic are Lucian and Morgana.”

  “But how do you know the book is safe, Professor? Morgana or Lucian might already have it if they are looking for the keys,” I asked following the professor.

  “There is something else you must know,” he said, halting at the top of the stairs and turning around to face me. “Remember, I told you that there are four keys.”

  I nodded.

  “When the book was locked, the keys were given for safe keeping to four magical families. The locations of the four keys and the Book of Abraxas have been passed down through generations. The Silverthorne family and my own have been guardians of the book for centuries now.”

  My eyes went wide at this piece of information. “Erien is a Silverthorne, and he didn’t know about the book,” I said, glancing at Erien, who looked just as surprised as I was.

  “He would have found out eventually,” said Professor Dekela, “it was because of you that he learned about it sooner than he was supposed to.”

  “Oh!” was all I could say.

  “That is how I know that the Grimoire of Abraxas is safely hidden and so are the other three keys,” continued Professor Dekela. “I only just got word that one of the Guardians has disappeared. Now I know why. I will inform your granduncle about this new development,” said the professor, opening the secret door that led back to the school library. “This is very serious, Aurora. If Morgana wants the book, it is only a matter of time before she finds what she is looking for.”

  “I know,” I said. “We can’t let her succeed in her plans. We have to get that key back from Damien.”

  “That may not be so easy,” said the professor. “The Duke of Blackwater came to visit his children today. They must have given it to him already. I will have his house searched, but we will have to be careful. Accusing the duke of theft may not be the right move just now. We need to find out more before we can bring him in front of the Mage Guild.”

  I nodded. I was glad the mastermage had it under control and it was one less thing to worry about. As it was, I’d had so much on my plate, and there were not enough hours in the day to learn everything I needed to defend myself against Morgana. Things had become too complicated. It was one thing trying to stay away from Morgana and trying to learn how to use my powers. But dark magic and demons were a bit more than I could handle at the moment. I hoped Uncle Gabriel would come back soon. He would know what to do.

  The sun was just rising over the city of Neris as we hurried back to our rooms. I was exhausted from not sleeping the whole night, but I had to go to class. We would be having tests soon, and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I had been so busy worrying about what the Blackwaters were doing that I wasn’t concentrating on my studies. If I failed my first tests, Uncle Gabriel was going to be livid.

  20

  Neris

  A few days later, a messenger arrived from Everdale House. Aunt Serena had invited me over for a few days, as the university was shut for the summer solstice festival, and those who had places to go could leave the school.

  I was excited at the prospect of staying in Aunt Serena’s Neris townhouse. Vivienne was also going home, and Foxmoor House was just a few streets away from Everdale House.

  “I’ll come to see you once you are settled in,” said Vivienne as we packed our trunks. “There are so many places I want to show you.”

  I nodded and hugged Vivienne before leaving.

  Aunt Serena sent a carriage as she had promised, and Erien and I climbed in. We crossed the main streets of the upper town and went on beyond the bridge to the other side of the river, where the nobility had their mansions.

  The carriage pulled up in front of a massive stone structure.

  Everdale House was a two-storied mansion with enormous bay windows and a huge mahogany front door. The horses had barely halted before Erien threw open the carriage door and bounded out eagerly. He ran up the steps, and, before he could even knock, the massive door opened, and the butler, a thin old man with slicked-back silver hair, let us in.

  “Good afternoon, Your Lordship,” said the butler to Erien.

  “Good afternoon, Figgi
ns,” said Erien. “Is Mother home?”

  “Her Ladyship is waiting for you in the morning room, my lord,” said Figgins, divesting us of our cloaks and luggage.

  I looked around in wonder, still unaccustomed to the ways of the Eldorean nobility. The front door opened onto a massive foyer tastefully decorated with ornamental furniture and oak paneling. A grand staircase with a richly polished mahogany banister wound up to the upper floors of the house under a gleaming crystal chandelier.

  We followed Erien to the back of the house, where the morning room was situated. Aunt Serena was waiting for us. It was a light and airy room, done up in cream and gold, with huge French doors that opened out onto a terrace that surveyed the gardens and the river beyond. She hugged us and ushered us both in to sit down.

  “First things first,” Aunt Serena said, turning towards me. “We will have to take you to a dressmaker to fit you for clothes. You certainly can’t wear that green dress every day.”

  I looked down at my green day dress; it was one of Aunt Serena’s from Silverthorne castle. She was right; I didn’t bring much with me.

  “We will also have to get something suitable for the harvest ball at the palace, which will be held later on in the year,” said Aunt Serena.

  “A ball at the palace,” I said, wide-eyed. I would love to go to a ball, but I had no idea how I was supposed to behave in front of the rest of the nobility in Eldoren.

  “Yes, every year the king holds a huge ball at the start of the harvest festival,” said Aunt Serena. “And we are all invited, of course. Tomorrow night, the Blackwaters are having a dinner party. And we will be attending, so you will need something to wear.”

  “The Blackwaters,” I sneered. “I don’t want to go to their house.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you don’t,” said Aunt Serena, raising her eyebrows. “I heard about your midnight trip to the tavern, young lady, and I have been waiting to talk to you about that.”

  “You heard?” I asked, glaring at Erien. I knew Professor Dekela had already met with Aunt Serena and told her everything we had learned about the Blackwaters and the Book of Abraxas. But he didn’t know about me leaving the school at night. Erien must have told her.

  Erien sheepishly looked away, getting up to pour himself a glass of juice. I felt like smacking him over the head for his stupidity.

  “Yes, my dear, I certainly did,” said Aunt Serena, putting her hands primly in her lap and sitting as she always did, perched at the edge of the chair, her back straight as a rod. “You could have been in a lot of trouble. You are lucky that your granduncle had instructed Rafe to keep an eye on you.”

  I hung my head. Even though I knew Rafe was just looking out for me out of some sense of duty, it hurt every time I heard someone say it out loud.

  “But if I hadn’t gone I would never have found out about the key and the book,” I argued. “Now at least we have some idea about what Morgana is planning.”

  “She is right, Mother,” Erien piped up.

  Aunt Serena ignored her son. “You were lucky this time, Aurora,” she said, unconvinced by my reasoning. “I want you to forget about the book for now. There is nothing you can do. I have spoken to the mastermage and sent word to my father. He will be returning soon, and you must let us handle it.”

  “But we can’t just sit here uselessly while Morgana is looking for the book,” I said, standing up.

  “We won’t allow her to get it,” said Aunt Serena. “You have to trust me.” She got up and put her hand on my shoulder. “I really want you to forget about this for now and concentrate on learning how to use your powers, Aurora. Or have you forgotten why we sent you to Evolon?”

  I lowered my eyes. She was right; I had been neglecting my training, and if I was going to survive, I had to learn as much as I could, and fast.

  “Now, my dear,” said Aunt Serena. “The Blackwaters have invited you specifically. I think their son Damien told them about you. I must say I was quite surprised myself, but if we try to keep you from them, they will wonder what we are trying to hide. I have already informed Sorcha, the duchess of Blackwater, that we will all be attending.”

  I slumped in my chair. I guess what I wanted didn’t matter. I wondered if I could fake a headache tomorrow so I didn’t have to go. Why was Aunt Serena insisting I go? What if someone recognized me?

  A kind-looking middle-aged woman came in.

  “Ah, Ms. Rikley, please show Lady Rory to her room,” said Aunt Serena. “Once you freshen up, come downstairs for some lunch, and then we can go into town.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, Aunt Serena,” I said politely and followed the housekeeper up the stairs to the second floor of the house, where my room was situated.

  It was a bright, cheery room with a big mahogany bed and gleaming hardwood floors strewn with plush carpets. Rich, rose-colored curtains framed the large windows, and I leaned over the side to see the lovely formal gardens of Everdale House, which led down in tiers to the river. Vivienne had once told me that all the best houses were overlooking the river. I wondered where Foxmoor House was and how I could get a message to Vivienne to come over.

  I washed my face and hands with the little porcelain bowl and jug in the room and went downstairs to join Aunt Serena and Erien.

  Lunch was served in the dining room, a large rectangular space with a massive, finely polished wooden dining table that could seat at least twenty people. Two crystal chandeliers hung from the frescoed ceiling, and four large, arched double doors led out to the gardens of the house.

  The food was heavenly. There was a creamy mushroom soup, a fish in a delicate sauce with nuts, a whole assortment of vegetables, roasted game, different cheeses and fruits, and a honey pudding with thick yellow cream.

  I ate so much I was stuffed, and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and go to sleep. But Aunt Serena was insistent that we had many things to do that day, and going to the dressmaker was one of them.

  We climbed into the Everdale carriage, which was very spacious and comfortable, with the Everdale coat of arms emblazoned on the side. The dressmaker’s shop was not far away, and the carriage rumbled down the broad paved streets of the city of Neris.

  This area of the city was very different from what I had seen before. I peered out of the curtained carriage window and glimpsed a host of fashionable people walking around, shopping or chatting as they came across an acquaintance or friend on the street.

  The shops in this area were also different from what I had seen before; they were bigger and more ornate. There were no blacksmiths, masons, or carpenters here; the shops were mainly jewelers with big, decorative shop windows, and dressmakers with their latest creations on display. There were also shoemakers, tailors, barbers, headdress makers, wine sellers, spice merchants, and a few luxurious bakeries.

  The carriage stopped in front of a big dressmaker’s shop with a purple awning. Above the front of the shop, in big gold letters, was written, ‘Lady Charlotte’s Creations.’

  We got out of the carriage. I could smell the wonderful aromas coming from the bakery next door.

  “Can we go in there first?” I asked Aunt Serena, pointing to the little bakery with delicious-looking cakes sitting on the windowsill.

  “No! We are running late as it is,” said Aunt Serena.

  I followed the countess into the shop to meet with the dressmaker. She was a thin, little lady with stern black eyes and a hooked nose. Her white hair was tied back securely in a severe bun.

  The shop was a dream of fabric heaven. Bolts of rich velvets, shimmering satins, silks, luxurious brocades, and tulle in a myriad of colors and designs were resting on the tables. Lady Charlotte gestured to one of her shopgirls to bring out some more.

  “Lady Charlotte is the best. Her designs are the most coveted by the nobility of Eldoren and beyond,” said Aunt Serena, trying to appease the stern little lady, who looked extremely peeved to have been kept waiting. She couldn’t say anything in front of the countess, so she kep
t quiet.

  She measured me in so many places that I was exhausted by the end of the session. Lady Charlotte draped me in different fabrics in a variety of colors and designs, pinned me, and poked me again and again. I was convinced that all the poking was done deliberately as my punishment for keeping her waiting. Getting fitted for a ball gown seemed to be the most strenuous work I had ever done.

  “We also need a ready gown for a dinner party tomorrow night,” said Aunt Serena to the dressmaker.

  The stern little lady nodded. “I have just the thing,” she said in her heavily accented voice as she snapped her fingers to call one of her girls and send them scurrying to find what she required.

  They brought out a shimmering, cream satin gown, with a fitted bodice exquisitely embroidered with beautiful pearls and cut beautifully in a wide off-the-shoulder cut. The dress was trimmed with three rows of pearls, which cinched my waist like a belt and cascaded down the side of the dress. It was absolutely gorgeous.

  We thanked Lady Charlotte, who said she would have the rest of my clothes ready in a few days, and left the shop.

  We went into the little bakery next door with the bright yellow awning. It was cute and homely, and little tables with yellow-and-white-checked tablecloths were placed near the windows. Beautifully decorated cakes and pastries, in a range of colors and flavors, lined the counters and were stacked in tiers, forming elaborate designs. I tasted something called a honey burst, and it was delicious. It was like a crisp biscuit ball, and when you bit into it, all the delectable honey melted into your mouth. I couldn’t resist sampling some more of the delicacies the bakery offered, and so I also had two tiny lemon cakes and a lovely strawberry-cream cupcake.

  Aunt Serena dragged me into another shop. I looked up at the sign: ‘Headdresses, Veils, Diadems, Circlets, and Tiaras.’

  “I need something for the harvest ball,” she said as we entered the shop.

  There were a few customers already there, trying on the wares. One was a beautiful blonde girl, with long golden hair elegantly pinned up and cascading down one shoulder in a shower of perfectly curled ringlets. She was wearing a yellow day dress, artfully embroidered with flowers along the neckline and cuffs.