The Ghost Friend: Marn Magical Academy, #3

By Stacey Keystone

Amy Morad has now found her family. She needs to get used to it, as well as Martinus Novak, who claims to be her fiancé. All of that while studying at the Marn Magical Academy.

New semester, new challenges. She will need to help her friend, figure out her magical abilities, and survive from those who want to harm her.

Book 3 of the Marn Magical Academy series, which will take you through Amy's adventures as she finds love and friendship.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stacey Keystone
• Release date: Oct 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215647639

Book preview

1

The sofa was soft. The fireplace was filling the room with warm, red light and cracking noises. My voice was hoarse.

"And the dragon told the king:

It is time for me to go. The time of dragons has gone. I hope you learned how to be a wise ruler.

Thus, the last dragon left, to worlds unknown, never to be seen. But the king remembered his advice and ruled wisely until he died.

The end."

I closed the book and tried to set it aside — but there was nowhere to put it. Nigel, the youngest of my cousins, was sitting on my lap, while Davyn was leaning on my right shoulder, following the text as I read, pointing with my finger.

While Nigel, being three, wasn't too heavy, he still had a good thirty pounds in him. And Davyn, almost six, as he would tell you, was quite a scrawny little boy, so his head on my shoulder wasn't too much.

No, what made me feel squeezed was the young man sitting on my left, his arm behind my back, firmly holding my waist as he, also, leaned on me. Or rather, the sofa, but there was very little space between his head and my free shoulder.

I just put the book on his lap. He adjusted his position slightly and leaned to put it back on the coffee table, next to the pile of the other books I just read.

Can't you read this book now, auntie Amy? Leila asked, handing me her book. It was thicker than the other books I'd read before.

But then, Leila was seven, and the books she liked were longer than the stories her little brothers liked.

I was feeling trapped.

Ask Uncle Marty, I said, elbowing said man. Or we can listen to you read. I know you do great. Your tutors compliment you a lot.

Leila, who didn't fit into the tightly octopus-like entanglement, raised her nose and looked at us from her seven-year-old towering height, as she stood in front of us. She was too old to sit on somebody's lap, her face said, while her eyes expressed jealousy. And her attempts to sit on the sofa's armrest ended with her slipping to the floor, so she now pretended she had been sitting on the floor because she wanted to.

It was clear who she blamed for this situation.

There was only one person who, in Leila's opinion, did not belong here. And she never missed a chance to express that feeling.

He's not my uncle, she said. I don't like how Mr. Novak reads. And I like how you read. Please? It's a hard book. It has many words I don't know.

I elbowed Marty. He should be the one solving this. He was the one with a large extended family. I have no idea how to handle the petty jealousies and sibling rivalries a large family will inevitably beget.

I was an only child for most of my life, and recently, an orphan.

I've only been part of an extended family for two months now. Before, it was just mother and me.

While I agree that Amy is better at reading than me, Marty said, she's tired. She already read four books today. If you don't want me, we can ask your mother.

But Leila was having none of it. She would not be reasoned with by a man she disliked.

Her sympathy for me did not extend to my fiancé, Martinus Novak.

While I shouldn't let this grow bigger than it is, I was quite happy at being liked. It was the first time in my life somebody wanted to spend time with me. Mother had been way too busy making a living as a single mother and was too tired during the brief moments of rest she got.

Having a seven-year-old girl and an eighteen-year-old young man fight for my attention was… weird. But in a nice way.

She wouldn't be tired if you didn't take her out today, she said. After she spent the morning at work. Why don't you leave her alone? You'll see her once you go back to school, and we can only have her for the holidays.

While I couldn't turn to see his face, pinned down as I was, I could hear the amusement in Marty's voice.

You will still have her in the evenings, he said. And it's not like we get to be together during class time. We're supposed to study, you know?

As if that argument could convince Leila.

But you can study together, she said. I also want to study with aunt Amy.

But aunt Amy needs my help, Marty said. Or she'll fail her classes. And you don't want to shame your family name like that, do you?

Leila considered that argument.

While she was only seven, she was raised in a powerful, aristocratic family. She had been taught about honor and duty all her life, and she was conscious of her family names' responsibilities.

For a seven-year-old, that is.

I can help aunt Amy, she then decided. I'm very good at magic. All my tutors say so. We don't need you.

Before Marty pointed at the absurdity of it all, I took sides.

I elbowed him again, freeing my waist of his hand.

Move, I said, pushing him towards the very edge of the sofa. I then waived my hand at Leila. Sit between us. I'll help you with the hard words, and if there's a word we both don't know, he can help us.

She seemed satisfied with that solution, which involved winning over her rival, and she happily jumped onto the sofa, pushing Marty to the very edge. He looked at me with reproach, but moved aside, unable to fight us both.

The book was, indeed, hard. To my shame, it contained many words I wasn't familiar with, having grown up on Earth, a non-magical world. Every day I spend on Marn, I learn new things.

When Cloris came to take the kids to sleep, I could finally stand up, stretch my arms, and breathe deeply.

Being loved so much was nice, but it could also be quite suffocating.

I don't know why you spoil them so much, Marty grumbled.

It's nice to have a family, I said.

While uncle Azzie, his wife Cloris, and Pops treated me warmly, it couldn't compare with the admiration and adoration my cousins showered me in. For the adults, I was a child. For the kids, I was the big sister, the link between them and their much older parents, the adult they could play with and talk with. My total ineptitude in all matters magical meant that they could also feel good about themselves by teaching me what they knew.

Of course, I always asked questions to Marty or Yllana, my friend, because the kids could be outrageously funny (and wrong) in their explanations. If I based my understanding of the world on what they told me, I would behave like a child.

While I'm glad you enjoy it so much, Marty said, the holidays are almost over, and we've only been out twice. Including today. And we're starting classes next week. Maybe if you worked less, you could have more time for both your family and me.

I looked at him, raising my eyebrow. He pretended not to understand, his expectant gaze fixed upon me.

Erynn needs me, I said, referring to the baby I was taking care of.

My first job when I came into this world was to take care of her at night, so her mother could get some sleep. Spending time with her awakened my magical gift, and I Healed her without even realizing what I was doing. I couldn't quit my job. What would happen to Erynn if I stopped helping her develop her ethereal body? She could burn from inside from excess magical energy. Or worse…

I shuddered, thinking of all the things that could happen to a child with problems in their magic formation.

---

I read a book recently, a thick, illustrated book with clear, concise, and dry language.

When Marty found me in the library, after Grandpa called him, worried that I didn't respond to calls through my vizor, he had to unbend my fingers one by one, as I gripped to the book with all my strength, as if it was the only thing holding me from madness.

He closed it and placed it on the table and handed me a handkerchief.

Why did you have to read it? he asked. I told you not to read it. Look how upset you are. Now, now, stop —

I hugged him by the waist and started crying again, all the tears I had inside me pouring into a river. I made a mess of his shirt, and even the magically water-resistant mascara run down, creating a black spot. I don't even want to think how I must have looked.

He put his arms on my shoulders, patting my head gently, as I used his chest as a handkerchief.

Next time you'll know, he said, taking out his pocket square and drying my face. It was slippery and didn't work very well, because it wasn't supposed to be used for this. But the handkerchief was in such a sorry state, even touching it was disgusting, much less using it on my face. That I don't tell you not to read something for no reason. It's not like there's anything you can do, Amy.

But I can, I said, looking up at him, my voice hoarse from all the crying. I can help. I don't know how — but I might be able to help. And that's why I must.

He tried to tell me it wasn't my responsibility, that it wasn't my duty to do so, but I remained relentless. If I had this gift, then I had to use it. I couldn't live in a world where children were exploding from the inside — and do nothing about it.

---

We talked about this, I said.

We had. Not only that time, but many times after that, when he tried to convince me to just live my life — as if I could do something like that.

It's not that I don't respect your choice, he said. But Amy… you're barely managing, and we're on holiday. What will you do when we restart classes? I don't want to see you collapse.

That's my business, I said, shrugging. I've handled worse before. Maybe I can go back to the distance department. That would add to my time.

Not really, Marty said. You can't learn the spells we'll be learning now in the distance department. Only control and magical energy management can be taught this way. For anything more than this, you need to be present. And if you want to learn how to use that skill of yours, you must go to the in-person classes. Besides, not letting your mind rest is not sustainable.

I'll manage, I repeated what I said before, for the hundredth time.

Alright, Marty said, for the first time, with a calculating look in his eyes. But promise me something.

What? I would not promise him anything if I didn't know what it was.

That, when you do collapse, you'll slow down, Marty said. As soon as you end up in the hospital because of this, that's it. You listen to me and reduce your workload.

I looked at him with suspicion. The proposal was reasonable. Which meant there was something else there.

And you won't bother me anymore, and you'll let me make my own decisions? I asked.

Sure, he said, although, by his frown, I could see he didn't like it much.

Three months, I said.

What? he said, blinking at the non sequitur.

If I collapse, I listen to you for three months, I had to put a time limit on it. I hoped not to lose this bet, but, if I did, at least it wouldn't mean giving Marty the control over my schedule for life.

A year, he said.

Six months, I said. And no more.

Deal, he agreed, and extended his hand to me, which I shook.

I smelled a rat. He agreed way too quickly.

But there was nothing I could point at, so I smiled and shook his hand.

2

The beige silk slip was light, almost weightless. That, and the fact it was way too pajama-like, made me feel rather uncomfortable in the big changing room, as seamstresses bustled around me, taking this or that measurement.

Why do I have to get a corset, again? I asked Yllana, my friend, who was sitting on the sofa, paging through a magazine, while I stood there, in the middle of the room.

Because you need one, she said and patted herself. I wear one. Everybody wears one. While you might prefer bras, you can't wear fashionable dresses without a corset. They just won't look good on you.

But I don't want to be squeezed like a sausage, I complained. Or have problems breathing. I want to run if I need to.

With all the problems I had, I needed the mobility.

Wearing a corset shouldn't mean tight lacing, Yllana said, shrugging. You won't have problems breathing, that is, if you don't squeeze yourself like some people do. It will just remove all the creases and folds. And besides, if you have problems running, it won't be because of the corset. It will be because of the heels or wide skirts. Those are a bigger problem for running than corsets.

I don't want to wear those, either, I said.

I understand, Yllana said, nodding. But choose one. You can only get away with ignoring one of those items. If running is a priority, I recommend ditching the heels. It's not like you need them, as tall as you are.

At 5'5'' I wasn't very tall, but not petite, either. Not on Earth, not in Marn. I was exactly average. Yllana, on the other hand, was on the smaller side. Which is why she thought I was tall.

I've ignored two so far, I said, and it's been fine. I didn't wear heels to the ball, nor a corset.

You just came to Marn, you were just introduced as a member of the Morad family, Yllana said. They could forgive you the eccentricity since you didn't know better. Now, though, you have to dress like the rest of us.

Wearing heels, as bad as it is, sounded better than wearing a corset. I prefer discomfort in my feet to an inability to breathe. Besides, I can always ditch the shoes if I need to run. Ditching the corset would be harder. That's what I told Yllana.

For goodness' sake, Amy, just try it, she said, setting the magazine aside, exasperated. I had probably rattled her too much today, with my constant complaints. Your entire idea of corsets seems to come from rumors and fear-mongering. Corsets aren't that bad. Many women live just fine with them. Besides, yours will be custom made, with the lightest material, molded to your figure. You'll see it's much more comfortable than it seems. You can always change your opinion after you get one made.

Yllana was my first (and so far, only) friend in Marn. She was also my guide to the local culture, helping me get used to it all. And I was being a total jerk to her.

I'm sorry, Yllana, I said, sitting by her side, adjusting my slip so the skirt wouldn't leave my thighs too exposed. I'm just uncomfortable. And worried. There are so many things on my mind right now. It's hard.

I have things on my mind, too, Yllana said.

About the new semester? I asked.

She nodded.

Yllana was attending the distance department in the magical academy, in her ethereal form, while her body slept. This was the only format available to scholarship students. Her family could afford the payment, but they weren't too happy with her learning magic. She was so far managing to keep it secret from them, although her brother was getting suspicious of her.

We're starting on Monday, she said. And my family is looking for a husband for me.

I thought it wasn't so easy for higher mages, I said. And you needed to pass a compatibility test.

Sure, Yllana said, nodding. But most people don't just go out and kiss a guy to see if he's compatible. It doesn't work like that. Before we do that, they perform many calculations to find suitable candidates, and then we meet to see how it works. Only after a long enough period of courtship do we test for compatibility. Your situation with Martinus is highly unusual.

But you will still come to the classes, right? I asked. Since they're at night for you, you can still come?

Yllana lived in a different time zone.

Yes, Yllana said. But it will be much harder to study. I won't be able to sneak in some study time.

Why don't you just tell them you want to study? I asked. If money is the problem…

She shook her head.

No, she said. Money isn't the problem. But my family has enough influence to kick me out of the academy.

Your brother didn't seem so bad, I said.

She nodded with a faint smile.

If it was only Teyo I had to deal with, I could convince him, she said. But my parents are a tougher nut to crack. They're very conservative. They wouldn't understand why I want to work when they can offer me this safe, worry-free life.

I extended my hand to hers, trying to console her.

I can't help you with that, I said. Since I never had issues with my mother. But if you ever need my help, I'm here for you. I'm sorry I've been a lousy friend lately. I had so much on my mind, I forgot about your problems.

Oh, don't worry about that, Yllana said, waving her hand dismissively. You are already helping me a lot. My mother thinks you're a good influence, being engaged so quickly and all that. She hopes you might rub it on me. Being able to go out for a bit is already helpful enough.

She straightened, squaring her shoulders, and smiled.

Now, I don't think just one model will be enough, she said, and pulled me up, examining me again. "We should order several, so