Read Online Broken Dragon (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 3) by D.W. Moneypenny - Free Book Online

from the bridge, I was concerned the dragon might be homing in on me as well.”
    That had not occurred to Mara.
    “There has been no hint of that. For all we know, Ping caught a ride with a friend or even grabbed a taxi here. I’ll give him a call later to check on how he’s doing and see what he thinks, but I’m certain we don’t have to worry about the dragon zeroing on you.”
    “Good to know. By the way, Ned Pastor called Thursday and wanted to talk to you. I was so wrapped up with Thanksgiving dinner, and you were in that strange trance writing in the little book Hannah brought back, that I forgot to mention it,” Diana said.
    Mara yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Ned, the jewelry-metallurgist guy who fixed the Chronicle? Why would he want to talk to me?”
    “Apparently he fashioned a replica of the Chronicle and felt bad that he had not gotten your permission first.”
    Mara’s brows furrowed. “Why would he make a copy of the Chronicle?”
    Diana shrugged. “If you remember, when he returned the original to you, he said he could sense that it had some kind of power. I think it intrigued him, and he wanted to explore the experience further. We metaphysical people do stuff like that, you know.”
    “Yeah, I know. Tell Ned to knock himself out. For all I care, he can mass produce Chronicles and sell them on eBay.”
    “So you want me to call him back and say you’re okay with it?”
    “Sure. Why not? I didn’t design the thing. I don’t own the rights to it.” Mara lay back down on the bed and put the pillow over her face.
    “What are your plans for today, since you don’t have to go into work?”
    “I’m not waking up until it’s Monday.”

CHAPTER 10
     
     
    Cameron Lee stood in front of a large canvas, featuring a bright orange sunset on the Serengeti, one of his latest works on display at Obscure, an aptly named art gallery just off Hawthorne in southeast Portland, far from the tonier showrooms of the Pearl District or the established culture of the Alberta Arts District in the northeast section of the city. He nodded and smiled, occasionally shook hands as patrons made their way to the door. The show was winding down, and Mr. Dorian, the gallery owner, subtly herded people out. He had his daughter’s twelfth birthday party to attend. An older lady with big blue-tinged hair slipped away from him and walked over to Cam.
    “Young man, you absolutely made the correct decision switching your focus to African landscapes. The palette is breathtaking and the composition divine. You can almost feel the sun on your skin and the wind sweeping through your hair,” the lady said. “Whatever inspired such a radical shift in your work? I mean, going from that dizzying abstract work to this marvelous, peaceful elegance is absolutely incredible.”
    Cam half bowed and said, “You’re very kind, Mrs. Klein. I just felt it was time to try something new.”
    “Mr. Dorian tells me that you were on that dreadful flight that crashed into the river a couple months ago. Surviving traumatic events like that can certainly motivate us to take a fresh look at our lives. Don’t you agree?”
    “It certainly gives you a whole new perspective on things,” he said.
    The front door closed with a rattle and a click, as Mr. Dorian turned the dead bolt. He flicked a switch on the wall nearby, and most of the lights went out, hanging over the large window facing the street. He walked over and stood with Cam and Mrs. Klein in front of the orange landscape. “Excellent show, Cam. Twelve pieces sold. That should help out with next semester’s tuition. Don’t you think?”
    Cam held out his hand. “Absolutely. I can’t thank you enough for doing this. You have got to be the only gallery owner in the world who would put on a show just to help an employee pay for school.”
    Mrs. Dorian nodded. “That is very kind of you.”
    “Nonsense. There would not have been a show if there was no talent to display, I can assure