Hidden Charm

by Kristine Grayson

  Everything felt off kilter.

  And some of that was the smell.

  “A hero,” the dragon said contemptuously. “A hero. Is that why you married him?”

  Zel frowned. Why was the dragon so obsessed with her marriage to Sonny? That made no sense.

  “Why do you care?” Zel asked.

  “Don’t antagonize him,” Henry said.

  Him. Henry thought the dragon was male. The voice was certainly male. But Zel knew nothing about dragons, and certainly didn’t know how to tell one gender from another.

  The dragon’s gaze flitted to Henry, and more smoke curled out of its nostrils.

  Zel moved so that she blocked Henry from the dragon.

  “You’re interested in me,” Zel said to the dragon. “Leave the men out of this.”

  “The men.” The dragon’s eyes twinkled. “The men. One of them has been trying to convince me that your marriage is a sham. Isn’t that fascinating?”

  Sonny. Sonny had told the dragon that they weren’t married—not in the way everyone thought. Why would he do that?

  “Get her out of here!” Sonny yelled again. “Froggy—”

  “Froggy?” The dragon turned its head just a little, which, considering how large that head was, looked like a massive movement. “You are the frog prince? My goodness, man, we have something in common.”

  “We have nothing in common,” Henry said, not acknowledging his identity either way.

  “Oh, but we do. Frogs and dragons, you know. Cold-blooded creatures. That changes things.” The dragon’s eyes closed just a little. That smoke curling through its nostrils grew, become a near-plume.

  “I’m not a frog,” Henry said. “And I’m not cold-blooded.”

  Even though his voice was flat, his manner was even more so. He had moved to the side so that Zel wasn’t blocking him anymore.

  “What do you want with me?” Zel asked.

  “Hmmm,” the dragon said, its gaze moving back to her. “Two men. That does give credence to Alessandro’s statement that your marriage is a sham. Particularly considering how heroic the Charming beside you is trying to be.”

  The dragon was baiting her—or baiting Henry—or baiting both of them, and Zel wasn’t exactly sure why.

  “In fact, Alessandro kept telling me that you weren’t going to come to his rescue, that I should just give up. So I’m beginning to think he doesn’t know you very well.” The dragon glared at him. “Or maybe, he was lying to me. I do hate being lied to.”

  Licks of flame formed around those iridescent teeth.

  The flame made the cavern so hot that Zel could feel it all the way to her bones. And then she realized she was only feeling the heat on one side. Where the sword was.

  It wanted out.

  Sonny was being quiet now, too.

  Zel didn’t look at the sword or at Sonny. Or at Henry for that matter.

  For some reason, a reason she didn’t understand, this entire thing was about her.

  “Why are you so interested in me?” she asked the dragon.

  “Because, darling,” it said, its voice threaded with fury. “You did your best to ruin my life.”

  Chapter 31

  Dragons were crazy. Zel probably didn’t know that. She didn’t seem to know anything about dragons.

  Henry had only encountered one in his life, at least before this one, and it had been red and smaller and a lot more flamboyant.

  This was an old fat dragon who didn’t seem capable of much movement. They had to be able to use that to their advantage, but Henry didn’t know how to get Zel’s attention, to plan with her.

  She wasn’t used to strategic thinking. She didn’t know how powerful she was, and she didn’t have traditional magic.

  But Sonny did, even though he was trapped behind that magical rebound spell that the dragon had placed on him. He had stopped yelling about getting Zel out of here—maybe he realized, just like Henry had, that Zel wasn’t going to leave, not without Sonny.

  And this was going to end badly.

  The temperature in the cavern had already risen to uncomfortable levels. Sweat was dripping off Henry rapidly enough to make him nervous. And he didn’t want to cast any kind of water spell, because the air did feel like a tinder box, and sometimes magic gave off sparks.

  Particularly when it rebounded.

  The sword on Zel’s waist was glowing red, and casting that red toward Sonny.

  It wanted to be near him.

  The sword had an innate understanding of the magic around it. Zel wasn’t heeding it, but Henry could.

  Sonny was staring at the sword, then his gaze rose to Henry’s. Sonny looked down at the sword again.

  There was something the sword could do.

  Which meant there was something Henry could do, besides get Zel out of here—which she was not going to do.

  She had engaged the dragon, and Henry couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing.

  “Ruined your life?” Zel somehow managed to repeat that phrase without sounding sarcastic. She actually sounded curious. “How could I ruin your life? I haven’t even met you.”

  “You have been following me all over Southern California,” the dragon said. “For decades. I am tired of it.”

  Despite the heat, Henry felt a shiver run through him. Zel’s ignorance of magic had created something—something that angered this dragon.

  He wanted to ask it questions as well, but he decided against it. The less the dragon noticed him right now, the better.

  Because he was going to get his hands on that sword.

  He had an idea.

  “I have never seen you before,” Zel said.

  The dragon raised its mighty head, then pointed the snout downward so that it could look directly at Zel.

  “I find that hard to believe,” the dragon said. “You have been systematically destroying my protection and my entertainment for decades.”

  Henry frowned, trying to make sense of that. How had Zel hurt a dragon? Henry didn’t know her history, but what he did know of her was that she tried to avoid magic wherever possible and only used it in her work, and then only slightly.

  He had no idea how someone working magically with hair could harm a dragon.

  He gave Sonny a questioning look. Sonny shook his head ever so slightly again, and then glanced pointedly at the sword.

  It was still glowing red.

  Zel had her hand on her waist, as if she felt the burn from the sword, but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

  The nerves in Henry’s stomach fluttered. The worst thing she could do right now was grab that sword.

  “Protection,” Zel repeated. “And entertainment?”

  “Oh, by all that’s glittery,” the dragon said, “do you think I have easy access to Netflix down here?”

  “Um, eh, ah.” Zel shook her head. “I—you—I mean, you have magic. Why not conjure some kind of portal so that you can watch whatever you want to watch or move to some enclave above ground where—”

  “I did!” The dragon roared, and flames danced out of its mouth in all directions. Henry had to duck. Sonny moved behind a slight jut in the rock.

  But Zel hadn’t moved. That fringe on her head was gone again, and the entire cavern now smelled of burning hair.

  It didn’t seem like getting hit with flame bothered her all that much, which suddenly gave credence to the dragon’s claims.

  “You kept burrowing me out,” the dragon said, moving its front feet closer to Zel and lowering its head even further.

  Henry wished it wouldn’t do that. He didn’t want it anywhere near her. Besides, it might see him if it was that close.

  “I did nothing of the sort,” Zel said. “You have me confused with someone who can do magic.”

  “You just did magic,” the dragon sneered. “That spark in your hair should have lit you on fire.”

  Zel took another step closer to the dragon. “I don’t appreciate you trying to hurt me,” she said, po
inting at the dragon with her right hand. “I really don’t appreciate the way you’ve gone after Sonny, and all of the people who have tried to help us.”

  The dragon reared its head back, and shook it, the way a dog would shake off water. The iridescent scales reflected the light of the flames burning around its teeth.

  “They got in the way!” the dragon roared. “You got in the way.”

  Henry reached around her and grabbed the sword. The hilt burned his hand, but he ignored the pain and yanked.

  Zel looked at him sideways, half-shook her head, and he nodded toward Sonny. Her gaze flicked to Sonny who nodded visibly.

  The dragon brought its head around, and Henry backed up, sword clasped behind his back, the pain in his hand excruciating.

  “Tell me how I got in the way,” Zel said. “Because I’m not understanding this.”

  The dragon brought its head down toward her, its eyeball only a few yards from her face. If that had happened to Henry, he would have stuck the dagger in the beast’s eye, but Zel didn’t. She crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at it.

  The dragon seemed surprised by that. Hell, Henry was surprised by that.

  “I would have remembered seeing you,” Zel said. “You’re quite memorable.”

  “I can blend into the mountains,” the dragon said, which really was stating the obvious, because it had blended in here.

  The pain in Henry’s hand was working its way up his arm. He had to move.

  “Dragons don’t like to be outside,” Zel said.

  “How do you know?” the dragon asked.

  “I read,” Zel said.

  The dragon brought its head up again, moving it in a circle as if bringing it down to Zel’s level hurt it.

  Henry took advantage of that and ran across the cavern. He didn’t move as fast as he wanted because his feet kept slogging in the sandy floor, but he still got close to Sonny.

  In front of Henry was a glittery curtain of magic. He had seen it earlier, but Zel hadn’t. And that was what he had been warning her about.

  That glittery curtain was rebound magic.

  “You!” the dragon said, and even without turning around, Henry knew the dragon was speaking to him.

  The dragon inhaled, sucking all of the oxygen out of the cavern.

  Henry winced, thinking this was all for nothing. They were going to get burned to a crisp, but if he acted fast, maybe he could save them all.

  He plunged the sword into the curtain of rebound magic.

  The sword glowed golden, then zoomed across the rest of the cavern floor, and reached Sonny. The sword flew up and clanged against the chains.

  The chains shattered, and Sonny toppled to the ground.

  Henry turned, expecting to be barbequed at any moment.

  What he saw, though, was Zel—hands extended, and hair pouring from between her fingers, and wrapping itself around the dragon’s snout.

  Big clumps of hair were stuck in its nostrils, like someone would stuff Kleenex in their nose during a nosebleed. Only those clumps of hair kept burning.

  The air was starting to reek of burning hair.

  Flames leaked out of the dragon’s mouth, and it kept whirling its head around, trying to get away from Zel’s magic. From her hair, which was besting the dragon every single time it moved.

  Sonny staggered out of the curtain of rebound magic.

  “We have to get out of here,” Henry said to him.

  “It’s going to be tricky.” Sonny sounded strong, but his legs were trembling. “Where are we going?”

  There was only one place that would protect them all from one angry dragon.

  Henry clenched both of his fists, and grabbed all of the magic he could. His own Charm magic, Sonny’s Charm magic, and the magic that glittered throughout the entire cavern.

  He swung a fist, magically lassoing Zel as well as Sonny, and shouted words he hadn’t uttered since Tiana died all those years ago.

  “To the Fates!” Henry yelled—and felt himself disappear.

  Chapter 32

  Zel staggered backwards. The hair streaming out of her fingertips hit some kind of…waterfall?

  She blinked, not sure where she was. The air was cold here, comparatively speaking, and only smelled faintly of smoke. She was outdoors. The sky was a robin’s egg blue, and beneath her feet, grass.

  Before her, that waterfall—like something out of a movie, all froth and clear water, and pristine—and a pool that was just as clear and just as clean and just as perfect.

  She had died. That was the only explanation. She had died and gone to some kind of weird heaven.

  She stopped the hair, and it, so that the long strands fell to the grass before her. Some of it was already in that pool of water.

  She shivered, cold from the severe temperature change, and her hip ached from a burn that had probably happened because of Sonny’s sword, and Sonny…

  She had failed him. She had died, and gone to this place, and failed him.

  She fell to her knees, and put her head in her hands.

  A hand brushed her shoulder. Then a different hand brushed her other shoulder. And a third hand touched the top of her head.

  “I know we can startle,” said a rich female voice.

  “…but obeisance is not necessary,” said another.

  “…and is, in fact,” said a third.

  “…designed to make us exceedingly uncomfortable,” said the first voice.

  “Really,” said the second voice.

  “Only the Powers That Be,” said the third.

  “…require such prostration,” said the first.

  “And even then,” said the second.

  “It’s only an egotistical few,” said the third.

  Zel raised her head out of her hands. Three women crouched beside her. They were stunningly beautiful, and very different.

  “We have never met,” said the woman who possessed the first voice. She was slender and blond, with eyes as blue as that sky. She wore a white gown that made her seem even paler than she probably was.

  “But we’ve been watching you,” said the second. She was a redhead, overweight by modern standards, but by 19th century standards, perfect. Curvy, busty, and stunning. Her eyes were bright green, and her skin was that rich peaches and cream that the white poets always said they admired.

  Zel had never seen such a perfect example of it.

  The redhead also wore a white gown accented the natural red in her hair.

  “You have done miraculous things, child.” The third had hair so black that it seemed almost blue. Her skin was darker than the others, her eyes black as well.

  She stood and extended a hand. The sleeve of her white gown draped down to the grass.

  “It’s all right, child,” said the blond.

  “You may stand,” said the redhead.

  Zel took the black-haired woman’s hand, and rose slowly.

  “See?” the black-haired woman said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Who are you?” Zel asked.

  The women looked at each other, startled, as if they couldn’t even contemplate that question, and then they burst into laughter.

  “They’re the Fates, Zel.” Henry spoke from behind her.

  Zel whirled, and nearly lost her balance.

  Henry stood behind her, clutching his right hand against his chest. Sonny stood beside him, holding his sword.

  Had they all died? What had happened here?

  “The what?” Zel asked.

  “The Fates,” Henry said louder, as if she hadn’t heard him the first time.

  “She doesn’t know who they are,” Sonny said, and then shook his head slightly. “And that’s my fault.”

  “Much of this is your fault,” said the blond.

  “But we don’t blame you,” said the redhead.

  “Because you are doing such good work,” said the brunette.

  Zel looked at them, then at Henry and Sonny. “What—?�
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  “I am Clotho,” said the blond.

  “They call her the Spinner,” said the redhead.

  “Because your myths say,” said the brunette.

  “…I spin the thread of life,” said Clotho.

  “And I am Lachesis,” said the redhead.

  “The myths call her the Disposer of Lots,” said the brunette.

  “Because she determines destiny,” said Clotho.

  “Which we all do, really,” said Lachesis.

  “And I,” said the brunette, “am Atropos, who wields the abhorréd shears.”

  She said that as if Zel had any idea what that meant.

  Clotho seemed to notice Zel’s confusion. “To clip the thread of life,” Clotho said.

  “The one that Clotho spins,” Lachesis said, as if it all became clear.

  “Not that we do things in that way,” Atropos said.

  “We aren’t myths,” Clotho said.

  “We are in charge of magic,” Lachesis said.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Henry snapped. “Now that we’re all caught up, we have a pressing problem.”

  “Henry,” Atropos said, and clucked her tongue.

  Lachesis was shaking her head.

  “You do realize,” Clotho said, “that you were quite rude to us the last time.”

  “My wife had died,” Henry said.

  “We do not bring people back from the dead,” Lachesis said.

  “You know that,” Atropos said.

  “We’re not here for that!” Sonny had taken a step forward. He looked fierce, despite his scorched lounge clothes and his bare feet. “There’s a dragon.”

  “A dragon?” Clotho asked.

  “Here?” Lachesis asked.

  “In Los Angeles,” Henry said.

  “Or beneath it, to be more accurate,” Sonny said. “And it’s destroying everything. You have to stop it.”

  An awkward silence settled on the pool. Only the waterfall made any sound. The women—the Fates—looked disapproving.

  Henry seemed panicked.

  And Zel remained confused.

  “Don’t tell them what to do,” Henry said in a low voice to Sonny. “I tried that decades ago, and they haven’t forgiven me—”