Dragon's Gift - The Druid Complete series Box Set
Page 22
Like the cavern, it glowed with an eerie blue light from the glittering spots in the ceiling. About fifty yards in, a splatter of green slime on the ground caught my eye. It was about three feet around, and shards of glass were scattered around it.
“What’s that?” Rowan whispered.
“Potion bomb, I think.” I bent and sniffed it, but didn’t dare touch. It looked like someone had taken a sample of it, complete with the dirt from below. “But I think it’s important.”
“Here.” Rowan dug into her pocket and pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag. “Use this.”
“Thanks.” Rowan liked to be prepared. She also liked snacks. Which meant I wasn’t surprised she had the little baggie on hand. I took the bag and bent down, then picked up a sample.
The sound of voices echoed in the cavern.
Crap.
They were close. Too close.
I met Rowan’s startled gaze.
“Go!” she mouthed, then gestured down the tunnel, back into the cavern.
“What?” I mouthed back.
Then she turned and hurried toward the voices. Lachlan grabbed my arm and pulled hard.
I fought him, but he won, dragging me away. Rowan and Caro’s voices echoed in the tunnel.
Rowan had taken the hit and covered for me.
Best sister ever.
Guilt tugged at me. I was grateful, but Rowan didn’t deserve to get in trouble. Hopefully Jude wasn’t with them, and Caro would cut Rowan some slack. She was a good storyteller. Liar, according to our Uncle Joe.
Lachlan and I raced through the cavern and up the stairs. He repeated the time-freezing trick, and we slipped by the guards, then through the library and out into the hall.
“I like your sister,” Lachlan said.
I panted, trying to catch my breath after the long sprint. “I owe her big time.”
“Can I see the sample?” Lachlan held out his hand.
I gave him the baggie, and he studied it, opening it to peer inside. To smell it. For a sec, I thought he was going to taste it.
Fortunately, he decided not to.
Unfortunately, his brow remained scrunched. “I’ve got no idea what this is, but we need to get out of here.”
“Yeah, she won’t rat us out, but they’ll be coming up.”
Lachlan raised his hand, and his magic swelled on the air, bringing with it the scent of pine and the sound of low thunder rolling in the distance. I shivered at the feel of a caress.
A gleaming silver light appeared in front of his palm. The light grew, bigger and bigger, until I could step into the portal.
I glanced at him. “Where am I going?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
I wrinkled my nose as I stared at him. “Not sure that I do.”
A sexy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Magic’s Bend.”
“Good, I like it there.” I stepped through the portal, letting the ether suck me in and spin me around, finally spitting me out on the street in Magic’s Bend, the biggest supernatural city in America. There were only three, but this one in Oregon was the crown jewel.
I arrived just as the sun was dipping toward the horizon, sending a golden glow over the old factory buildings that lined the street in Factory Row. The city wasn’t large—just over 60,000 supernaturals lived there—and this was the old factory district. Sometime in the last few decades, it’d been revitalized and turned into apartments and cool shops.
I stepped aside as Lachlan arrived, stepping through the portal next to me.
I eyed Potions & Pastilles, the magical coffee shop where my friends the FireSouls often spent their down time. “I assume we’re visiting Connor to see if he can identify the potion?”
Lachlan’s friend, who we’d rescued just a few days ago, ran Potions & Pastilles along with his sister. He had a potions workshop in the back.
“Got it in one,” Lachlan said. “I couldn’t tell what it was, and while I could run some tests, I think it’d be better if both of us look at it. Two minds give us better odds.”
I liked how he thought. Even though he was a super powerful mage and potion maker, he wasn’t above asking for help. If there was one thing I’d learned in my years scrabbling to stay alive with my sisters, it was that help was often the only thing between me and failure. Or death.
So yeah, I was glad we were here to see Connor.
I peered through the golden script on the big glass window that said Potions & Pastilles, spotting a skinny dark-haired guy behind the counter. “I think we’re in luck.”
I followed Lachlan toward the coffee shop, stepping into a warmly lit space that was covered with local artwork. Mason jar lamps hung from the ceiling, and the whole place had an Oregon hipster vibe that I liked a lot.
In the corner, the FireSouls sat in their usual cluster of comfy chairs. Cass, Nix, and Del each had a glass in their hand as they waved at me. An enormous brown and white hellhound—heavy on the hound—sat next to Del. The dog lifted its ears, and its tongue rolled out. Pond Flower.
Potions & Pastilles turned into a bar in the evenings, and the FireSouls often came here to unwind. I would’ve popped over to say hey, but there was no time.
Actually…
“I’ll meet you at the counter, okay?” I said to Lachlan. “You can brief Connor.”
“Aye, all right.”
He strode off as I stepped toward the FireSouls, gingerly digging into my pocket for the plastic baggie that contained the gelatinous potion.
“Long time no see.” Nix tucked her dark hair behind her ear, her green eyes glowing.
“Gee, what’s it been?” I grinned. “Three days?”
“Too long.” Del scratched Pond Flower’s head.
“What have you got there?” Cass nodded toward the baggie, her red hair glinting in the light.
“A potion we’re trying to track. We thought Connor could maybe identify it, but could you give it a look, too? See if you can sense where the owner might be?” FireSouls were capable of finding just about anything, as long as it wasn’t blocked by a spell and they had a bit of information to spark their dragon sense.
“Got any info about it?” Nix hovered her hand out, ready to touch the bag.
“Nothing, unfortunately. Just that we found it in the Protectorate.” Since those details weren’t about the potion, it wouldn’t help them. And even though I trusted them, it wasn’t my place to tell them about the cavern under the Protectorate castle. That was Jude’s domain, and I didn’t need to step on it.
Nix blew out a sigh and took the bag, her face scrunched up. “I get nothing.”
Cass took the bag from her and tried. “Nothing.”
Del gave it her best shot last, but she just shook her head. “Sorry, pal. As far as I can tell, it’s just some slime in a bag. We’d need a bit more to go on.”
“Thanks though.” I smiled to cover my disappointment. “Hopefully the potion master will have an idea.”
“He’s the best there is.” Cass raised her can of PBR, the cheap beer that she adored. “And he’s great at popping the top on a beer, too.”
“So multi-talented.” I grinned, but she was right. Connor really was the best. “I’ll see you guys later.”
I turned and headed toward the counter, picking up on the sound of some old country playing over the speakers. Connor always chose the music for the shop, and often wore the band T-shirts to match his selection. Today, he wore a Lyle Lovett shirt.
I passed by a few college kids playing a game of checkers while drinking a golden liquid that looked expensive—how they afforded it, I had no idea—then passed an old man filling out a crossword puzzle while drinking a pink cocktail that steamed with a glittery smoke.
Connor grinned at me as I approached. “My favorite rescuer.”
“Why thank you.” I bowed. We’d really bonded while escaping the fortress-like winery in Tuscany last week. “Did Lachlan explain what we needed?”
“He did. I can give it a loo
k now.” He leaned back and shouted over his shoulder, clearly talking to someone behind the swinging door that led to the kitchen. “Sis? Can you take over?”
A moment later, Claire stepped through, her dark hair gleaming. She was wearing black leather from head to toe, and a sword was sheathed over her back. “I was just about to head out on a job.”
In addition to helping out part-time at P & P, Claire was a mercenary. She killed demons most of the time, but every now and again, she’d be here.
“Just for a sec,” Connor said, his British accent still thick despite the ten years he’d spent in America. “It’s important.”
“All right.” Her gaze moved between me and Lachlan. “I can only assume it’s a matter of life and death, if it’s you two.”
“Fair assumption.” I glanced at Lachlan. That did seem to be the thing that brought us together. I didn’t mind. My life had always been full of super dangerous situations, so adding in the company of a hot dude…
It wasn’t the worst.
Even if I wasn’t supposed to do anything more than look at him.
“Go on, then. I’ve got the counter.” Claire took the apron from Connor, who led us back through the kitchen.
I followed him and Lachlan through the narrow space, toward the little workshop at the very back. It was cluttered with ingredients and vials and small cauldrons.
“Welcome to my domain.” Connor spread his arms out wide.
“I like it.” I’d never had the skill for potions—or the opportunity to practice, really—but I’d always loved the mad-scientist-looking lairs that most potion masters seemed to keep.
Lachlan and Connor hovered over the table, getting to work with a little cauldron, some flame, and a variety of bottles of colored liquid. I hung out near the back, watching as they tested various samples. Colorful plumes of smoke burst toward the ceiling, while the air filled with various scents—some nice, some definitely not nice.
I tapped my foot, anxious for a result.
“Getting impatient?” Lachlan asked without turning around.
“Um. No.” Lachlan chuckled as if he could hear the lie. “Any luck though?”
“Maybe.”
I waited a few more tense moments, until finally, Connor fist pumped the air. “Got it!”
“What is it?”
He turned, his eyes bright. Excitement gleamed within, but behind it was worry. “It’s a Sylthian potion. They’re really rare.”
Lachlan turned. There was no excitement in his eyes, just worry. “Only a few people are strong enough to make it, and there are only a couple who are selling it. I can guess who made this, though.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Torlock the Dark,” Connor said.
I frowned. “Where’s he live?”
“She.” Connor shook his head. “And I don’t know. I can ask around, but she’s famous for being hard to get to.”
“Then how do people buy her stuff?”
“They have to really want it,” Lachlan said. “And it’s so expensive that she doesn’t need to sell a lot of it.”
“What did that potion do?”
“It destroys a person’s soul. They disappear forever. Just…poof,” Connor said. “And there’s no antidote, obviously.”
A shiver of ice raced through me. “Holy fates. I carried that in my pocket?”
“It became neutralized once it sat on the ground for a few seconds. It’s only good for a moment after it smashes into a person.”
My shoulders sagged. Thank fates. And that was good for Caro, Ali, and Haris, too. If the potion was still active, I’d have had to warn them, and then Jude would know what I was up to.
“So someone must have dropped the potion bomb as they were running away from the cavern,” I said.
Lachlan nodded. “Aye. Thieving cowards.”
“We’ll catch them.” I frowned. “We just need to figure out where Torlock the Dark is. What kind of name is that, anyway?”
“Mega melodramatic,” Connor said.
I glanced at the ornate old clock hanging on the wall. It was getting late. “I’m going to need to be at class soon. But we have to find Torlock.”
Indecision tore at me. I couldn’t skip class—Jude would kill me. The Protectorate was like a magical version of the FBI or Scotland Yard or whatever human crime fighting organization was the best. I had no idea. But I did know that rules were important, and Jude had looked me in the eye and asked if I’d be in class.
I’d said yes, and I wanted to live up to my promise.
But I also wanted to solve this damned crime.
“I have some contacts I can ask about Torlock,” Lachlan said. “You go to class, and I’ll do that.”
“And I’ll make some cocktails.” Connor grinned. “Good luck, because I think you’re going to need it.”
4
As usual, I was getting my ass kicked in class. I’d managed a couple hours of sleep before it started, but it clearly hadn’t been enough to prepare me for what was to come.
Not that I did much better when I was fully rested.
Today, I lay on my back, head spinning as I stared up at the enormous rafters overhead. Tweety birds flew in circles in the air above me.
I blinked.
Okay, that was my imagination.
Pain flared as I tried to stand. Lavender had really hit me with a big one. She was a telekinetic, and we were skirmishing. Unfortunately, she’d chosen to throw a huge wooden bench at me at the exact same time my shield magic faltered.
My core magical skill was really giving me hell these days, flickering in and out like an old lightbulb. It meant my Dragon God powers were coming to the surface—Maybe.
Aching, I dragged myself to my feet. On either side of me, two other pairs of students faced off.
But I only had eyes for Lavender.
Her dark hair gleamed in the light as she snickered at me. “I thought you were supposed to be someone special?”
I just scowled at her and tried to call on the magic inside me, begging my Dragon God side to come up with a new power. According to Bree, when she’d gone through the transition, new magic had just appeared out of the blue whenever she needed it. Times of strife called on gifts that could help. The Norse gods had heard her in her hour of need and delivered.
Whoever my gods were…they were clearly on lunch break.
All I had was a shoddy power of premonition and possibly some kind of light power that gave me…light. Honestly, I barely knew how to describe it, just that it had once appeared and driven off sickness wraiths.
“You really shouldn’t be here,” Lavender said under her breath, purple eyes glittering with pure donkey meanness.
“Matching your contacts to your name is a bit much, don’t you think?” She was just a mean person, the type who liked to pick on the lowest one on the totem pole.
Unfortunately for me, that was my spot.
“You and your sisters shouldn’t be here. Bree is a freak, and Rowan is worthless. No magic at all.”
Hot tar seemed to fill my chest, spilling out at the mention of my sisters. It was fine if she wanted to be a bitch to me. But my sisters?
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said.
“What? You going to hit me with your practice sword?”
I growled at her. In skirmishes, I was allowed to use whatever I wanted to fight with. Since I had no offensive magic, that meant weapons. Unfortunately, Jude insisted on ones with no sharp edges.
“That’s what I thought,” Lavender said. “You’re just as worthless as your sister Rowan.”
Rage like I’d never known welled in my chest. It bubbled and boiled like a witch’s cauldron, flaring out of me in a burst of light so bright that it slammed Lavender off her feet, throwing her into the wall behind her.
I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. All the wind was knocked out of me, and I stood there, my mouth open like a gasping fish.
Stunned silence surrounded me.
&nb
sp; Lavender was still on her back, and everyone rushed toward her. Hesitantly, I stepped closer.
Angus, Lavender’s friend, held up one hand, eyes flashing. “Don’t.”
I raised my palms. “All right.”
I squinted at Lavender. Where was her hair?
Oh shit.
My light had blasted her hair away. And her clothes were singed, black and dotted with holes. What the hell kind of magic had I just thrown at her?
Jude rushed to Lavender’s side and dropped to her knees by the girl.
Is she okay?
I wanted to speak the words out loud, but it was super obvious that no one wanted to hear from me. Half the other students looked at Lavender, concern on their faces. The other half glared at me.
Jude looked up, then pointed a finger at me. “You and I need to talk. Later.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
Jude turned back to Lavender, who was trying to sit up, but failing.
A low meow caught my ear, and I turned.
Muffin sat in the doorway, his skinny, hairless body as dark as shadow. His green eyes gleamed, complementing the ruby in his tattered ear. Frazzled whiskers twitched. Behind him, Bojangles rolled by, chasing his orange tail.
Come on, failed hunter.
I glanced back at Jude and the rest of the group, torn. Did I stay here and wait for my talk? Or find out what Muffin wanted?
Since I didn’t like getting yelled at, it was an easy choice.
I hurried toward Muffin on silent feet, slipping from the training room. Lachlan waited out in the stone-walled hallway, a fluffy Princess Snowflake III draped over his shoulders.
“I have no idea how she got up here.” He pointed to the cat, bemused. “One second she was on the ground, then she was here.”
She rubbed her face against his, white fur sticking to the dark stubble on his cheeks.
“Hey, Princess,” I said.
She turned to me, blue eyes glinting, and hissed.
“I love you, too.” I grinned. “Don’t forget that dead mouse painting you made me. Maybe you did it in a moment of weakness, but I know you like me.”
“Dead mouse painting?” Lachlan asked.
“Yeah, I’ll show you sometime.” I looked back at the door. “Let’s get out of here. Did you find Torlock?”