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Book: The Dragon's Secret (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 2) by Katherine Sparrow
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Authors: Katherine Sparrow
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nothing on the walls and only one door with a dozen unbreakable locks. It was a witchy kind of place: made for someone who handled great power. Long ago I had made this quiet place, inside the vivid wilds of my mind. It was empty except for one thing that I could not think about or notice right now, but I would, later.
The room was made to hold dangerous things, and I had no memory of when I’d made it, but I knew how to use it. It was not easy, but I held my overwhelming relic lust, which looked just like the gray stone, and threw it into the room. I slammed the damn door shut and all the locks locked.
It was gone.
I opened my eyes and breathed in the stink of desperate magic that filled the room. Calm flowed through me as I stared at the relic, at the rock. I still wanted it, but it was a manageable hunger.
I glanced at the closed door behind us, wondering what those would-be kings were doing to Lila and Adam. I had to end this battle, quickly.
I considered teleporting the relic away—I could move it away from me. If I did that, a moment later the dragon and Merlin would probably kill me and then disappear in search of the relic. There was no place I could send it where they wouldn’t find it. They would continue their battle elsewhere, and one or both of them would die.
And if I didn’t send it away? I looked at the dragon, and then at Merlin. Decisions. With consequences. These two bore a deep history between them. Of slavery and the sharp desire for revenge. Which one? Which one should I give it to? Scenarios flickered through my head, all of them risky. I will save you, Merlin. My love. I will try.
Another wave of magic filled the air as Y Ddraig Goch breathed out a sooty and slow-moving spell. It drifted upward, soon to release some new flavor of nastiness. Merlin scowled and magic flowed out of his upturned hands, heading upward and dissipating the spell. His shoulders sagged and he looked exhausted.
I heard a scream from the other side of the door.
Lila’s, I was pretty sure.
There was no use waiting. I made my choice, come what may.
With my good hang I yanked at my hair, hard, and held a dozen black strands in my palm. In my mind’s eye I took those hairs and wove them together, with light and motion, with swiftness and surety. It was a small spell that I pulsed into the strands of my hair and then threw into the air.
“ I gyd at Y Ddraig Goch ,” I whispered. All to the dragon . My spell shuddered and coalesced as it moved into life, flapping like a hairy butterfly as it darted toward the river stone at the center of the room.
The dragon roared at me.
Merlin screamed.
Then they both leaned forward and squinted at my butterfly spell as they tried to figure out what it was doing and how they might counteract it. Its simple magic made no sense to either of them, and they tried to discern what darker mission it was on.
The butterfly landed on the gray river stone lightly, and then dissolved into long strands of hair that wrapped around the stone. The relic rose up in the air, and then hurtled toward the Red Dragon.
The dragon cried out harsh and swift syllables as the relic zoomed upward and into his fiery mouth.
White lightning sparked everywhere. A loud popping hit my ears.
Screams. And then a pure silence. Utter darkness.
15
Embers
The dragon lit the dark room with embers that dropped from his mouth. In the orange and shadowed light, I heard yells coming from the other side of the door. Y Ddraig Goch raised one talon, and silence washed across the room.
Y Ddraig Goch’s great yellow eyes looked to me, and then to Merlin. “You have saved me again, Morgan,” he said with his great and hissing voice.
I nodded, scarcely daring to breathe. “I hope that is worth something.” The pentacle above us held no power now that the relic was gone, and I walked with long strides across the room to stand beside Merlin. The wizard, my wizard, stood with his hands stuffed in
The room was made to hold dangerous things, and I had no memory of when I’d made it, but I knew how to use it. It was not easy, but I held my overwhelming relic lust, which looked just like the gray stone, and threw it into the room. I slammed the damn door shut and all the locks locked.
It was gone.
I opened my eyes and breathed in the stink of desperate magic that filled the room. Calm flowed through me as I stared at the relic, at the rock. I still wanted it, but it was a manageable hunger.
I glanced at the closed door behind us, wondering what those would-be kings were doing to Lila and Adam. I had to end this battle, quickly.
I considered teleporting the relic away—I could move it away from me. If I did that, a moment later the dragon and Merlin would probably kill me and then disappear in search of the relic. There was no place I could send it where they wouldn’t find it. They would continue their battle elsewhere, and one or both of them would die.
And if I didn’t send it away? I looked at the dragon, and then at Merlin. Decisions. With consequences. These two bore a deep history between them. Of slavery and the sharp desire for revenge. Which one? Which one should I give it to? Scenarios flickered through my head, all of them risky. I will save you, Merlin. My love. I will try.
Another wave of magic filled the air as Y Ddraig Goch breathed out a sooty and slow-moving spell. It drifted upward, soon to release some new flavor of nastiness. Merlin scowled and magic flowed out of his upturned hands, heading upward and dissipating the spell. His shoulders sagged and he looked exhausted.
I heard a scream from the other side of the door.
Lila’s, I was pretty sure.
There was no use waiting. I made my choice, come what may.
With my good hang I yanked at my hair, hard, and held a dozen black strands in my palm. In my mind’s eye I took those hairs and wove them together, with light and motion, with swiftness and surety. It was a small spell that I pulsed into the strands of my hair and then threw into the air.
“ I gyd at Y Ddraig Goch ,” I whispered. All to the dragon . My spell shuddered and coalesced as it moved into life, flapping like a hairy butterfly as it darted toward the river stone at the center of the room.
The dragon roared at me.
Merlin screamed.
Then they both leaned forward and squinted at my butterfly spell as they tried to figure out what it was doing and how they might counteract it. Its simple magic made no sense to either of them, and they tried to discern what darker mission it was on.
The butterfly landed on the gray river stone lightly, and then dissolved into long strands of hair that wrapped around the stone. The relic rose up in the air, and then hurtled toward the Red Dragon.
The dragon cried out harsh and swift syllables as the relic zoomed upward and into his fiery mouth.
White lightning sparked everywhere. A loud popping hit my ears.
Screams. And then a pure silence. Utter darkness.
15
Embers
The dragon lit the dark room with embers that dropped from his mouth. In the orange and shadowed light, I heard yells coming from the other side of the door. Y Ddraig Goch raised one talon, and silence washed across the room.
Y Ddraig Goch’s great yellow eyes looked to me, and then to Merlin. “You have saved me again, Morgan,” he said with his great and hissing voice.
I nodded, scarcely daring to breathe. “I hope that is worth something.” The pentacle above us held no power now that the relic was gone, and I walked with long strides across the room to stand beside Merlin. The wizard, my wizard, stood with his hands stuffed in
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