Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology

by Pauline Creeden

  “We agreed no gifts,” Violet complained.

  “Just open it,” Heather suggested. “You’re going to love it. I mean seriously love it.” Enthusiasm beamed from her eyes.

  Violet bit her bottom lip, eyeing the package. “All right,” she conceded, making short work of the paper. “What is it?”

  “A DNA kit!” Heather exclaimed. “Isn’t it perfect? You swab the inside of your mouth and send it away for testing. In a few weeks they send you a report about where you came from. They might even have a lead on family members.”

  Violet’s eyes widened, reading over the fine print on the box. “This is amazing.” One hand covered her mouth. “But isn’t this expensive?”

  “That’s why we chipped in and got it together,” Carla explained.

  “It’s way too much.” Violet held the box out. “I can’t accept it. I know how tight your money is.”

  Carla pushed her friend’s hand aside. “It’s nonrefundable,” she snickered. “And neither of us need it. You are stuck with it.”

  Violet glanced down at the box, a single tear streaking down her cheek. “Thank you,” she sniffled. “This is the best present ever.” She stood, arms held out wide. “Group hug.” The three girls embraced, heads meeting in the middle of a huddle.

  “All right, that’s enough a mushy stuff,” Carl said, breaking the bond. “Open it and let’s send away for those answers.”

  Two lines formed between Violets brows. “What if they can’t give me any?” Teeth chomped down on a thumbnail.

  “What if they can?” Heather replied. “What if your dad is a rich powerful man?” She gasped. “You could be a princess, like in that movie we watched last week. Imagine finding out you are actually the heir to a throne.”

  Carla waved Heather off. “Don’t be getting too far ahead of yourself,” she suggested. “There is a whole world of people out there who Violet could be related to who aren’t rich and powerful.”

  Heather’s eyes widened with her grin. “You’re right. There could be magic in you. If you are a witch, you totally have to tell us.”

  Violet chuckled, still sniffling back the last of joyful tears. Her sleeve helped speed up the process. “I don’t think I’m a wizard. If I was, there probably would have been signs by now.”

  Heather glanced at her watch. “Eek! I have to run. I’m going to that seminar today. I can’t wait.”

  “The one on reincarnation?” Carla asked.

  “Mm-hm.” Jacket and purse were already in hand. “It should be enlightening. I’ll tell you all about it later.” The door closed before she finished saying goodbye.

  “I can’t wait,” Carla said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how she believes in all that mumbo-jumbo. We are at school studying to become archaeologists to disprove stuff like that.”

  “I don’t know,” Violet chuckled. “Maybe one day we will prove magic exists, instead of the opposite. Anything is possible, I suppose.”

  “You got optimistic fast,” Carla snorted. “What’s with the change in attitude all of a sudden?”

  Violet held up the kit. “I have to believe I can find them. The odds are about the same. I guess, in a way, I am taking a similar leap of faith in sending this off.” She paused, staring at the box. “This is it... my last chance. If this doesn’t work, there’s nowhere else to turn.”

  Carla nodded. “Okay, let’s prove your father smelled of elderberries.”

  “And my mother?” Violet chuckled.

  “Was a dragon, of course.”

  Chapter 8

  Heather tossed her things on the floor, plopping down on the couch. “You two should have been there. It was so uplifting and freeing.” She inhaled deeply through her nose. “I feel like a completely different person.”

  “You aren’t going to start chanting, are you?” Carla snickered. “Or burning incense. I’m still allergic. I’ll sneeze your zen into next week.”

  “Laugh it up,” Heather said, hugging a throw cushion. “But... I think I may have found a reason why Violet is having issues locating her birth parents.”

  “What?” Violet shrieked, running in from the kitchen. “How? Where? Tell me what you know.”

  “Okay,” Heather said, tossing the pillow aside. “You have to hear me out in full, though.” She waited for both friends to nod their agreement. “When a person loses something important, or has a destiny unfulfilled, they are reincarnated.” Eyebrows waggled.

  “That’s it?” Carla asked. “Really, a couple weeks of sessions and that’s what you learned?”

  “Yeah,” Heather replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Don’t you see? Souls live the same pattern over and over again, until they fulfill their destiny.”

  Violet raised her upper lip. “So what you are actually saying is I am doomed for eternity if I don’t find my birth parents...”

  Heather shrugged her shoulders. “Well.” Her jaw opened as if about to say something but snapped shut instead.

  “Big help you are,” Carla huffed.

  “On the bright side, if we find them you’ll be done,” Heather grimaced. “Knowing is half the battle, right?”

  “Which half?” Carla snapped.

  “Does it matter which half?” Heather barked back. “I thought it was enlightening to understand the path we all walk on.”

  A bird tweeted. “I’d love to continue this insightful discussion, but...” she waved her phone, “... Mom and Dad are calling.”

  Letters fell through a slot in the door, scattering across the floor. “Mail’s in!” Heather exclaimed, rushing to pick through the day’s offerings. Her head hung low. “Nothing for me, again.” She sighed. “There’s a couple for you.” She tossed the mix of envelopes and flyers in one pile on the coffee table.

  “Probably bills,” Violet said, shifting through the stack. She pulled out a slightly larger envelope, staring at the front.

  “What’s that?” Heather asked, returning from the kitchen with a large spoonful of peanut butter. Her tongue extended, licking over half the contents in one pass. “Mmm. Anyone got any chocolate?”

  “You’ll never guess what happened,” Carla blurted out, rushing into the room. “Mom and Dad have been hired for a private excavation and they want us to go along as assistants.”

  “The results from the DNA kit,” Violet said in unison with her friend’s news. “That was fast.”

  Heather exchanged glances with her two friends. “Well, open it,” she suggested. “Since when do your parents bring students along on their digs?”

  “I can’t,” Violet answered, hands shaking. “One of you two do it.” She held the envelope out, eyelids clenched tightly together.

  Carla sighed, grabbing the letter from her friend’s hand. “It was a suggestion of the property owner that there be apprentice positions. He’s paying for it, so they agreed.” She ripped the envelope open. “They want to take all three of us.” Her eyes scanned over the contents of the letter, lips pursed shut, a scowl forming.

  “What does it say?” Violet asked.

  “They have listed a ninety-five percent match to a particular region,” Carla admitted. “It’s overseas.”

  “So why the grim look?” Heather asked, licking the rest of her peanut butter from the spoon. “That’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “No. I mean yeah, it’s good news,” Carla mumbled, still glaring at the letter. “It’s just strange.”

  “What’s strange?” Violet’s voice choked on the words.

  “That the place your ancestors came from would be the same area my parents have been hired to do an excavation in,” Carla replied. “We are all going there.”

  “You’re kidding,” Heather snorted, slapping her knee. “That’s awesome. The stars are aligning perfectly.”

  “It’s a rather big coincidence, don't you think?” Carla complained. “What are the odds we’d get news of both on the same day?”

  “Maybe Heather’s right,” Violet suggested, snatching her lett
er back. “It might be destiny.” Her vision blurred, reading the same information over and over. “I wonder what they are like.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Heather jumped to her feet, striking a superhero pose. “Tonight we pack. Tomorrow we fly. Then we dig in more than one way.”

  Carla shook her head. “There is so much wrong with those statements. First of all, we aren’t leaving until school lets out... not tomorrow. Second off; how are we digging in more than one way?”

  The excitement on Heather’s face mutated into a pout. “Duh! On the excavation and into local records, of course. I thought that was obvious. We might be able to piece together Violet’s family tree.”

  “Do you really think so?” Violet asked, jumping to her feet.

  “You never know,” Heather replied. “Anything is possible. I’ll get my mother to draw up an astrology chart for the trip.”

  “Great,” Carla muttered under her breath, “I get to babysit two kids seeing stars. Just what I wanted to do.”

  Chapter 9

  Violet glanced over the back of her seat. Carla’s parents were a few rows back, her two friends behind them. Once again she was the odd one out. Sitting alone while flying for the first time wasn’t an ideal situation for anyone to be in.

  “Take your seat and fasten your belt,” an attendant requested. “We will be preparing for departure in a few minutes.”

  “Sure,” Violet muttered, sliding back down. Beads of perspiration formed on her brow. Flying always seemed strange and unnatural to her. People weren’t meant to be in the sky. If they were, they would have wings of their own.

  “First time?” an elderly woman beside her asked. “I remember mine. I was about your age and petrified. I could barely breathe.”

  Violet faked a smile, hoping the woman’s stroll through flights of the past didn’t involve any crashes.

  “Here’s a trick I learned.” The woman turned a circular device above them aiming a nozzle directly at her.

  Air streamed out, hitting her face in all the right places. “Thank you,” Violet said, inhaling the cool breeze. “I thought I was going to pass out for a moment.”

  “Once we are in the air, you’ll be fine,” the woman said. “I’m Marge, by the way. You picked a long flight for your first.”

  “How long is it?” Violet asked, fidgeting.

  “That depends on how you look at it,” Marge replied. “There is the actual flying time. Flights like this usually make a pit stop to refuel as well. Then there is the time zone change. Jet lag is a real thing.”

  “That’s a lot,” Violet huffed, still enjoying the blast of air. “You must travel a fair bit to understand it all.”

  “I adore travel,” Marge explained. “Ask me about anywhere in the world and I have probably been there.” She chuckled. “I could give better tours than most professional guides.”

  “That’s amazing,” Violet mumbled, hugging a head pillow. “I still find it a bit unsettling.”

  “This form of travel is completely safe,” Marge insisted. “We aren’t in the stone ages anymore, flying on the back of a large bird. Although, I think I might have enjoyed that as well. It couldn’t be any worse than bungee jumping, right? I’m slowly checking off the boxes on my bucket list. Last trip I did some zip-lining.”

  “Cabin crew, begin your final checks,” a man’s voice ordered over an intercom. “Prepare for departure.” The plane began moving slowly, heading toward the runway. “Passengers, please turn your attention to your screens.”

  “Why are they telling us how to crash?” Violet complained, watching a woman on the monitor strap on an oxygen mask on before helping the child to her right do the same.

  “It’s standard procedure,” Marge replied. “They have to provide the information. The odds of a crash actually happening are...”

  “Please don’t tell me,” Violet blurted out. She closed her eyes, feeling their speed increasing. Her head pressed back against the seat, the nose of the plane pointing up. Ears begged to be popped, but refused at the same time. The cool air was the only distraction. She inhaled deeply through flaring nostrils.

  “The worst is over,” Marge whispered. “You can open your eyes. We are above the clouds and all is well. Things will go much quicker if you talk. Tell me about yourself. Where are you off to?”

  “I’m not the talkative type,” Violet replied, not knowing how much she was allowed to disclose about her new apprentice position. Carla’s parents failed to go over protocols for disclosure. “I might try to sleep.”

  “Nonsense,” Marge snickered. “Too much sleep isn’t good for a girl. Take it from me.” She lightly tapped Violet’s hand. “You can sleep when you’re in the ground. Live life to its fullest while you can.”

  Violet focused on the screen before her. A tiny plane showed her how far they’d travel and how much longer she had to listen to Marge’s voice. The woman wasn’t about to take a breather from talking. A man snorted a few seats away, a nasal snore growing louder by the minute.

  “That is poor etiquette,” Marge complained. “He’s ruining the trip for everyone else. How can other passengers think, let alone try to sleep with all the racket?”

  “I’m sure it’s not intentional,” Violet replied. “It’s not like it’s his fault. He has the right to sleep, too.”

  “There are certain things one doesn’t do on an international flight,” Marge argued. “Don’t recline the seats.” She leaned sideways toward Violet. “It bothers the person behind you. Don’t lean on the shoulder of the passenger beside you. Unless you are in personally acquainted. Don’t keep pressing the call button. The attendants have enough to do.”

  “That’s a lot of rules,” Violet interrupted. “Are they written somewhere? I feel like I should have read them before taking off.”

  “These are unwritten rules,” Marge said, continuing her list.

  Violet’s eyes watered trying to tune the woman out. Talking the whole flight had to be on the list somewhere. It was becoming more annoying than the man still snoring. She bit her lip, not wanting to make an enemy for the remainder of the flight.

  “Are you interested in listening to the in-flight movie?” an attendant asked, offering a set of ear buds.

  “Yes,” Violet replied, jumping at the chance. It didn’t matter what movie was playing so long as it wasn’t narrated by Marge. “Thank you.”

  Marge huffed, passing on the listening devices. “The movies they have are all outdated. I’m sure you’ve seen them all. I know I have.”

  Violet lifted the earbuds with a smile before placing one in each ear. Marge wasn’t wrong about the viewing choices. Christmas movies in the summer were rather pathetic. Even her eyelids agreed—fluttering in an attempt to stay open. In the end they lost the battle.

  Telling oneself they were just going to rest their eyes was a lie. Even worse, people knew it was a lie before doing it. Still, they convinced themselves different time and again. Violet was no exception. The next time her eyes opened, drool was dripping down her chin and the movie was long over. A stretch and a yawn later, she pulled the ear buds out.

  “That was my fifth husband,” Marge said. “Bless his soul. I really thought he was the one.”

  “At this time, we ask all passengers to take their seats,” the captain said over the intercom. “We’ll be making our descent for landing.”

  “Goodness,” Marge chuckled. “Here I’ve been rattling on about myself and you never had the chance to tell me about you.”

  Violet’s mouth hung open, sporting a goofy grin. “Mmm.” The woman had no idea she hadn’t heard a word of what was said or that she’d fallen asleep. “Maybe next time.”

  “Right you are,” Marge agreed. “You best fasten your seat belt. The way down is a bit bumpier than up.”

  Chapter 10

  The used plane ticket, stuck inside the pages of a passport, fanned her face. Not that it was much help. Heat was one thing. Violet rather enjoyed toasty s
ummer days. Stifling humidity, on the other hand, was a completely different beast. She hated it when oatmeal stuck to her ribs. Having the air act in a similar manner in her lungs was way worse.

  “I thought the temperature here was similar to ours back home,” Heather whined, grimacing at her reflection’s melting makeup. She offered the mirror to her friends.

  “Not me,” Violet huffed. “I don’t want to see how frizzy my curls are.” She grabbed a scrunchie from a carry-on bag, twisting her thick hair into a ponytail.

  Liz Becker stood with on hand on each hip—outfit screaming explorer. “Get used to it, girls. Archaeology is a tough business.”

  “Mom,” Carla said. “Please. You look like a tourist.” She turned to her friends, rolling her eyes.

  “Good news,” Brad Becker announced, returning with a couple of strangers. “They sent us two cars so we have lots of room. There’s a bit of time before we need to be at the villa. Why don’t we stop in town and look around a bit?”

  “I thought the place we are heading to was pretty much isolated,” Carla replied. “Now there is a town? Did I read the wrong information?”

  “No,” Mr. Becker snickered. “It’s out there. We have to drive through a couple quaint little places on the way, though. It might be a good time to get a feel for things.”

  “Lead the way.” Heather bowed, motioning with one hand. “I’m all in for checking out the night life, in case we have an evening off.”

  “Night life,” Carla snorted. “There isn’t going to be any.”

  “How do you know?” Heather snapped. “Hot guys live all over the world. I’m sure there are one or two around here.”

  Violet continued fanning herself. “I don’t care as long as I’m not in a car alone and it has air conditioning.”

  “The three of you can ride together,” Mrs. Becker suggested. “I’m sure you don’t want to hang out with an old couple.”

  “Perfect,” Carla agreed. “Who is our driver?”