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The Dragon of Cecil Court (The Treasure of Paragon Book 5)

Page 22

by Genevieve Jack


  “This is for healing,” Maiara said, breaking off a small dried piece of something that hung from the ceiling and bringing it to her nose. She waved it in front of Sabrina. “The stink is from the medicine. It is the way the Great Spirit tells us it is good to use.”

  Sabrina held her nose. “Maybe for humans. Not for vampires.”

  Across the room, Nick tapped on a jar that held what looked like an embalmed eel. The entire wall was filled with specimens preserved in liquids that ran from clear to yellow to green. Clarissa didn’t like to look too closely at those jars.

  “Nathaniel’s into some crazy shit, even for a dragon,” Nick said.

  “He told me once he was the only dragon besides his mother who had learned to perform magic like a witch,” Clarissa told him.

  “Yeah, well, it’s creepy, but I hope it keeps my Rowan safe.” Nick’s yearning for his mate made Clarissa equally anxious to get hers back. This had to work!

  Warwick raised his hands. “If everyone would take their places on the circle please, we can begin.”

  The wizard stationed himself on the northernmost point of the circle at the tip of the pentagram. Clarissa stepped onto the southernmost arc, between the two legs of the star. Sabrina stepped on the arc to her left, Maiara spaced out evenly beside her. Nick took the space beside Warwick.

  Avery hesitated, holding the egg in its carrier against her chest.

  Clarissa held out her hand to her and smiled. “Come. You can be the witch of the west. Well, the southwest anyway.” She pointed to the space across from Sabrina.

  “Wasn’t that the most wicked one in the Land of Oz,” Avery asked, smiling sweetly. It was hard to imagine Avery being anything but sweet, although it was clear to Clarissa she had an inner strength.

  With a laugh, Clarissa took her hand. “There’s nothing wrong with being wicked, especially considering present circumstances.”

  Everyone in their place, they quieted as Warwick began to braid the three hairs. His mouth moved in a barely audible chant. She couldn’t make out what he was saying but thought it might be Latin.

  “Please join hands,” Warwick commanded.

  Once everyone did, he released the braided hair, tossing it into the center of the circle. At first the braid floated toward the floor, but as soon as Warwick took Nick’s and Maiara’s hands, it stopped and rose to hover between them.

  Clarissa felt the circle rise.

  Beside her, Avery’s eyes widened. “I feel it,” Avery said. “It’s like my feet have left the ground. I feel… weightless.”

  “Concentrate,” Warwick barked. “Picture the hairs being bound to one another in your head.” He began to chant again.

  The magic in the room built to a glorious tension, the air flowing thick into Clarissa’s lungs. She stared at the hairs, willing them to fuse.

  A wind picked up in the circle, whipping Clarissa’s hair against her face. There were no windows in this room, but the formerly thick and stale air became crisp. Sabrina took a real breath.

  “Holy fuck,” Nick said, his eyes wide.

  “The Great Spirit is upon us,” Maiara said, turning her ebony eyes toward the ceiling.

  Warwick’s irises glowed silver gray as power pulsed through the circle.

  Avery gasped. “Oh my God.”

  The egg in her arms was pulsing peacock blue. Even Clarissa, who had participated in many circles in her time, had to admit this was weird. The power flowing was more in line with what she would feel from an entire coven of expert witches and wizards, not this motley crew of magical novices.

  Her throat opened. She had the sudden urge to sing. “Now, Warwick! I can feel it!”

  “Nick, Maiara, hands on my shoulders please!” Warwick commanded.

  They obeyed, their hands sliding up his arms to grip his biceps. He reached into his jacket and produced a vial of Nathaniel’s blood. Dabbing a drop on his thumb, he reached out, his cheeks flapping in the circle’s gusting magic, and pressed the blood to the braid. Almost instantly, the three strands fused into one and disintegrated into dust that circled in the cyclone that had become the room.

  The magic didn’t let up. As Warwick slid the vial back into his jacket and returned his hands to grip Nick’s and Maiara’s, a howl rose. Gradually, Clarissa became aware it was her voice! All of theirs! They were all yelling into the wind as it lifted them. She couldn’t hold on. Her feet floated another inch from the floor.

  Lightning branched from the center of the circle, shooting into each of them, just above the heart. She lost her grip on Sabrina and Avery, crashed to the floor, and rolled onto her back. She lay perfectly still, shock waves coursing through her body in a way that wasn’t unpleasant but was scary as hell.

  Avery sat up first and checked the egg. “You okay, Li’l Puff?”

  The egg’s heartbeat seemed to pulse softly in response.

  Sabrina got to her feet and held her hand out to help Clarissa up. “How do we know if it worked?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Clarissa opened her mouth and sang. There were no words to her song, just a single note that began low and rose in pitch like a soaring bird. Light gathered between them—a ball of light that hatched into an electric-violet butterfly. Her creation cruised around the circle, raining sparkles like stardust.

  “Holy shit,” Sabrina said.

  “I guess it worked,” Nick mumbled.

  Warwick brushed his palms against each other and straightened his tie. “Of course it worked. Who do you think you’re dealing with?” he said brusquely, pointing one meaty finger at Clarissa. “Tell Nathaniel he owes me.” He strode from the room like he was a foot taller than his actual stature.

  Avery hugged the egg and stared at Clarissa, wide-eyed and anxious. “What happens now?”

  She thought for a moment, but there was only one answer. “Now we wait.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Paragon

  Raven couldn’t stop shaking. Wrapped inside a blanket, she huddled on the edge of the bed, Gabriel’s arm around her shoulders. It was only a matter of time before Eleanor came for them, and she was terrified. Between the empress, Aborella, Ransom, and the rest of the Obsidian Guard on high alert, it seemed impossible that they’d escape. But they had to. They had to find a way, for each other, for their child, and for Paragon.

  Gabriel was ridiculously still by her side. All of them knew what they had to do, but waiting was torture. Not knowing when or how Eleanor would strike was a nightmare.

  Finally, the door flung open and Eleanor appeared, Aborella behind her and Ransom by her side. The captain of the Guard shoved a man into the room, filthy and naked from the waist up. His pants were barely more than rags. Raven immediately knew it was Sylas, although she’d never seen his unobstructed face. He resembled Alexander in build and face shape, although his hair was somewhere between Tobias’s blond and the dark brown and black of his other brothers, and his eyes were the same shade of gray as Nathaniel’s. The resemblance was undeniable.

  “Well, well, well. It seems we have a full-blown family reunion happening here. What a nice surprise,” Eleanor said.

  Aborella, whose skin still hadn’t regained its normal deep purple hue, glared at her. Raven quietly triumphed in the fairy’s lengthy recovery. She would never suggest Aborella was weak, but she was weakened, and that would have to do.

  Sylas’s gaze sought hers out. “Raven, I presume.”

  “Yes. It’s nice to meet you without the iron grid between us.” She glanced down at his finger where the garnet rested. “And with your birthright returned to you.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Eleanor said, her yellow ring shining against her black dress. The colors reminded Raven of a hornet; she had no interest in feeling her sting. “Whatever power Sylas has, it is useless to you. Do you understand? You are mine.”

  Ransom snickered from where he’d stationed himself near the door.

  “Now, should I ask if Xavier or Colin are here as well?”
/>   No one said a word. Unless Sylas had been in touch, Raven was sure no one in the room had any idea where the last two brothers were right now. The family hadn’t kept in contact over the years. Saying so now didn’t seem advantageous though. Sometimes it was better just to keep one’s mouth shut.

  Eleanor joined her hands in front of her hips. “Let me explain how this is going to work. Each of you will swear allegiance to me and allow me to remove your rings.”

  “Fuck you,” Alexander murmured.

  “Or,” she continued, ignoring him, “when the suns rise in a matter of hours, I will invite the Highborn families to a trial where you will be found guilty of treason and executed.” She gestured toward the balcony and the night sky beyond.

  “You’d murder your own children?” Raven loaded her words with all the disgust she felt for Eleanor.

  Eleanor’s mouth widened into a wicked grin. “You may have mated my son, but you could never be a queen. You are the reason I have to do this. You are a danger to the kingdom. You are the witch the prophecy said would bring Paragon to its knees. Yes, I will do what has to be done to preserve our way of life. That’s what an empress does. We have to make the hard choices to keep our people safe.”

  From the corner of the room, Nathaniel started to laugh. “Odd. I live in a country with a queen, and the royals haven’t offed anyone’s head in a century. Are you sure it’s a requirement?”

  Eleanor whirled to face him. It took her half a second to notice the symbol, drawn with an oil pastel that Alexander had squirreled away in the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Apparently he always had a drawing utensil of some sort with him. This one had the added advantage of being black, which meant the symbol was barely visible against the obsidian floor.

  Raven had helped Alexander draw the runes around Nathaniel. It was a more powerful method than having the dragon draw them himself, allowing the circle to be bigger, the symbols more intricate and perfectly proportioned. The pentagram was pure genius, a testament to Nathaniel’s magical aptitude, and intimidating in its intricacy and its potential.

  Time seemed to slow as Nathaniel slashed his arm and blood doused the symbol he was standing in. Rowan, Alexander, and Tobias dove behind him as Eleanor tried in vain to defend herself. But they’d caught her off guard. She wasn’t fast enough.

  Nathaniel produced a pulse of power like nothing Raven had ever experienced. Eleanor, Aborella, and Ransom were blown away, their bodies crashing into the far wall. To Raven, it felt as if a hurricane had gusted from Nathaniel’s circle, and although the power wasn’t directed at her, all her ebony hair blew forward and she lifted off the bed onto her feet. She tossed the blanket aside. Gabriel’s wings spread protectively beside her.

  Nathaniel uttered a spell, and the circle pulsed again. His pipe tore from Eleanor’s pocket, tumbled through the air, and landed in his hand. The empress scrambled to her hands and knees, drawing breath as if it hurt.

  “Ransom!” Eleanor barked.

  Ransom fumbled for the Paragonian grenade on his belt, still stunned by the blow. Rowan’s wings punched out and she leapt over Nathaniel’s head, tore the tapestry off the wall and tossed it over Ransom. As it turned out, Rowan, even in her high heels, was the fastest of the siblings. She wrapped Ransom and the grenade into a tight roll and dragged his body to a spot beside Nathaniel so quickly Raven had trouble following her movements. She stood with her stiletto on his throat, her wings out.

  “Sorry, Mother, this one is indisposed.” Rowan flexed her wings, her fists landing on her hips.

  The empress shook off the remains of Nathaniel’s attack and lashed out, her talons extended. Tobias was there, his sword blocking her attack with the clang of metal on claw. The element of surprise definitely worked in their favor. Eleanor hesitated for a split second, focusing on the blade. “Where did you get that?”

  “Never mind, Eleanor, I’ll handle this.” The air crackled with purple energy. Aborella had recovered from the blast and was raising her hands. Two storms of dark lightning formed in her palms. She focused all her energy on Nathaniel. His mouth twitched and Raven held her breath, praying she wouldn’t notice the smile. Would she take the bait?

  Eleanor’s eyes widened and Raven saw with a certain satisfaction the moment she put two and two together. Someone had to have summoned the sword in her son’s hand. The empress’s mouth formed the word no, but it was too late.

  Aborella unleashed all her power toward Nathaniel.

  “Cogitatio!” Raven leaped in front of Nathaniel and crossing her arms. Up until that moment, it had been all she could do to hide the fact her power had returned. The blanket had helped, as did Gabriel’s arm around her and then the distraction of Nathaniel’s magic. Now she joyfully let it all out. Just as it had in Sedona, the mirror spell wrapped around her and reflected Aborella’s lightning. Only, unlike in Sedona, the fairy was in a confined, reflective space.

  Raven spread her hands, broadening the shield to protect Gabriel, Tobias, Rowan, Alexander, Nathaniel, and Sylas as dark purple lightning reflected off her magic and ricocheted against the polished obsidian walls. This was no ordinary lightning. Dragons were impervious to electricity, heat, or fire. But, as Nathanial had suspected, Aborella had used her deep knowledge of their anatomy to design her spell especially to target their kind. Now the fairy sorceress’s most powerful weapon against dragons plowed into Eleanor and herself, magnified by Raven’s spell. Their bodies sizzled and smoked, collapsing in the assault.

  The resulting magical storm was violent and hot. Raven howled with the effort of keeping her shield up. But as intense as it was, it also felt like coming home. It was like going for a long run for the first time after being cooped up all winter. Raven thought about her time in the dungeon, how Eleanor had murdered Marius, and how she’d planned to marry Gabriel off to the highest bidder despite their mating and rage bubbled up inside her. It bolstered her power. She poured every ounce of her wrath into the spell.

  Her knees buckled and Gabriel gripped her shoulders, holding her up.

  “A little longer, Raven. Almost there. You can do it!” His breath warmed her ear. She could do it. She would do it. To save her family.

  Finally the storm fizzled. Eleanor and Aborella lay motionless on the floor. Raven dropped the shield and collapsed into Gabriel’s arms.

  Chapter Forty

  As soon as Raven dropped the shield, Nathaniel was ready. He’d packed his pipe again and blew a ring of smoke at the door. The ring formed into a pentagram and then revolved, symbols flashing in its sectors. Finally the spell found the combination to the ward around the room. He stepped over his mother’s twitching body and dialed the combination as fast as his fingers could move.

  “Kill her,” Gabriel yelled at Tobias. From her place in his arms, Raven could feel his rage. He was vibrating with it. “Use the sword. Behead them both. Let’s finish this now.”

  Tobias raised the sword. But when he brought it down toward his mother’s neck, it bounced harmlessly off a hard shell of air over her and Aborella, who had wrapped an arm and leg over her. Raven’s gaze snapped to Aborella. Her skin was charred and mostly white, but a symbol on her leg was spinning. The fairy’s wild eyes locked on hers and she bared her teeth. That silver gaze was as cold as ice and as determined as a bulldog’s. Aborella would die for Eleanor. Why? Raven would likely never know. But it was all there in the way she sheltered her with the remains of her magic.

  “It’s down,” Nathaniel said.

  “Wait!” Gabriel commanded. “Raven, can you break through Aborella’s defenses?”

  Tobias raised the sword again over Eleanor’s neck.

  Raven wanted to. She would have loved to watch Eleanor’s head roll, followed by Aborella’s. But she’d used everything she had on the reflective shield. She couldn’t even walk yet. “I’ve got nothing left.”

  “Nathaniel?” Gabriel asked.

  “Only enough tobacco to get us back home.”

  Raven wondered i
f that was true. She saw tenderness in the way Nathaniel looked at Eleanor. At one time, Tobias had struggled to believe his mother was evil, but his mind had been changed when she’d sent Scoria to try to kill them. Nathaniel knew what his mother was. He’d been there as she threatened to kill them all. And although he’d been a large part of the plan to fry her, there was only sadness in his expression now. If Raven had any skill at all at reading people, and usually she did, she would guess that Nathaniel did not want to watch his mother die.

  Gabriel’s gaze darted around the room like a caged animal. “We cannot let her live. She must pay!”

  Sylas grabbed his shoulder and shook it. “We will have our day, brother, but if we don’t leave before she wakes up, we will never make it out of this palace.”

  “He’s right,” Raven said. “We have to leave before she’s strong enough to call for help or we’ll have the whole of the Obsidian Guard to contend with.”

  Gabriel cursed but thrust through the door with Raven still in his arms. Rowan, Tobias, Sylas, and Alexander rushed after him. Once everyone was through, Nathaniel’s ring glowed to life. Raven realized he was sealing the room with his own ward.

  “It won’t hold them for long,” Nathaniel said. “We need to make it outside the castle. I can’t move this many people from inside.”

  Sylas motioned. “This way.”

  But when they reached the end of the hall, the sound of running feet pulled them up short.

  “The guards! They’re coming!” Rowan said.

  They all turned on a dime and rushed in the opposite direction, toward the front of the palace, but slowed when they came to a forked hallway. Raven squirmed in Gabriel’s arms and he put her down.

  “Which way?” Nathaniel whispered.

  A flash of gold to her left claimed Raven’s attention. She could have sworn she saw a woman with two golden eyes, a shimmering dress, and long, flowing black hair. Circe. But the moment she thought it, she was gone.

 

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