Dragon's Eye
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hers. She felt the hard, lean muscles of his torso
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all along her own small frame, and she was
sorely tempted to do as Alice had suggested, and
simply let him have her. But it was not in
Felicity’s nature to give up without a fight.
“Oh!” she gasped with outrage. “Let me
go, you great oaf!”
“Who else was with you? Why are you
here?” Lancelot demanded as his wand, now
turned back to its normal form, pointed straight
at her face. The light in its tip shone just brightly
enough for the man to get a better look at the
young woman he had pinned to the floor.
When the look in his eyes switched from
ire to amusement, Felicity cast him an annoyed
glance. “What’s so funny?”
“Did you really think a mere slip of a girl
like you could get away with stealing from my
museum?” he wanted to know.
“For your information, I was not here to
steal anything,” she answered haughtily. “I was
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simply trying to teach Director McTavert a
lesson in good manners.”
“A lesson in manners, you say?” he
scoffed. “And what lesson might that be?”
“If McTavert cares nothing for stepping
on the rights of other people, I thought perhaps
if somebody stepped on his own toes, he might
change his tune. He must see that the Law of
Three would be of great benefit to everyone, and
not seek to dismiss it so readily.”
“So, a little political activist, is it?”
Lancelot chuckled as he leaned forward enough
to whisper the words into her ear. “I wonder
what I should do with you now.”
“You can let me up from the floor, for
starters,” she scolded, even as she sucked in her
breath in surprise. The heat of his breath slid
along her sensitive flesh around the ear in which
he spoke, and her body became entirely too
aware of the fact that he was still pinning her to
the cold, marble tiles of the hall.
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Never before this had she ever been in
such close proximity to any man, and yet
instinctively she knew that no other man would
have nearly the same affect upon her as this one
did now. Her heart fluttered like a caged bird,
and her breathing came in short little gasps.
With an amused grin, Lancelot asked,
“What’s the matter, my dear, have I taken your
breath away? Just tell me who was with you, and
I’ll let you up so we can take them over to the
Law Enforcement Office as well.”
“I would never betray my friends,” she
said between breaths. “And the only thing that is
taking my breath away at the moment is the
weight of your great, hulking body crushing my
lungs. Now let me go before you crush them
completely.”
Grasping her by the wrist, Lance grinned
as he said, “Your wish is my command.”
With one smooth motion, he got to his
feet and brought her along with him. The next
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thing Felicity knew, he flicked his wand into the
air and popped them from the Museum right into
the middle of the Law Enforcement Office
within the space of a heartbeat.
“Nature of your complaint, sir?”
inquired a witch without batting an eye as they
suddenly appeared beside her desk.
“I caught this little witch sneaking
around Director McTavert’s office inside the
Museum,” he explained as he handed her off to
the woman. “It would appear I’ll have more than
one issue to deal with in the morning.”
“Yes, sir, we’ll take care of it,” the
woman said with a nod.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied.
As the witch led Felicity toward the door
that led to the back, she looked over her
shoulder, straight into the eyes of the wizard
who had brought her there.
Lancelot Jones had a look on his face
that made Felicity’s insides clench in a heat of
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wanting. His disheveled hair cascaded down his
shoulders in a wave of gold. His green eyes held
a flame that she could not define but wanted to
keep gazing upon forever. And somehow, he’d
managed to magically conjure a robe on the way
there too.
As the door shut with a click behind her,
Felicity turned to see the bars of the holding cell
she was about to enter. She spared a thought for
her two friends who had gotten her into this mess
in the first place. She hoped they’d gotten back
to the Academie in one piece, and vowed never
to mention the part they’d played.
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SIX
The small holding cell that Felicity
entered was already occupied by four witches
who were all giggling together off in one of the
corners. The stark white walls glared at her eyes
beneath a magically created light source located
somewhere above, and the unconcealed toilet
mounted in the middle of the room left her
stomach even queasier than it already was.
Felicity hung close to the door as it
slammed shut behind her, uncertain what to do
next. One of the other witches suddenly sprang
up and started to dance around in circles as she
spoke.
“Well, of course I had to break the Law
of Three,” she giggled as she wiggled her hips.
“I’ve got me some clients in Mundania who
really like what I can do for them. What no
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bloody Mundane wench can, if you know what
I mean. Why, I have this one old rotter with a
tiny prick, and he always picks me up because I
can make the thing three times its size with just
one flick of my wand. Even bigger, if he asks me
nicely.”
“Well, I broke the Law of Three as well,”
said another witch. “I needed some carrots to put
into a stew, and when I asked a Mundane woman
if she would spare me some, she actually had the
cheek to tell me no.”
“Really?” the others gasped. “What did
you do about it? “
“I compelled her, of course. What was I
supposed to do, return home to prepare a meal
without the ingredients I required? Ridiculous.”
“Well, unlike all of you, I did not break
the Law of Three,” the third witch said smugly.
“I simply broke my husband’s nose.”
“Here now, what did you do that for?”
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“I caught him cheating on me with his
secretary.”
“Oh, that’s so sad,” said the last witch.
“What was her name, dearie?”
&
nbsp; “His name is Ernest,” she replied.
“Though it may as well have been Ernestine
when I got through with him.”
“Oh,” she said with a little moue of
surprise. The cooking witch held back a laugh.
“You ought not to trifle with a man
whose called Ernest,” the first witch teased.
“They’ve always got way too much to say. Far
better to find yourself a Randy, so he’ll fuck you
quite nicely and be on his way.”
“Oh, oh, Elsie, you must stop,” tittered
one of the other witches with a bit of a cackle.
“We appear to have ended up with an innocent
in our midst.”
“Why, so we have, my dears, so we
have,” she chuckled as they all followed the
thumb she had pointed over at Felicity. “Tell us,
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little miss school girl, whatever did a sweet little
thing like you do to get thrown into a nasty place
like this? Not working a bit of magic on some
old rotter as well, I trust?”
“Ma’am, please,” said Felicity with a
crimson blush. “I’ve never even seen a rotter.
And even if I did, I don’t believe I know the spell
you are referring to. I never even knew there was
such a spell.”
“Oh my, but there are quite a few others
for a witch who cares to be adventurous enough
to learn them,” Elsie told her with a toothy grin.
The other witches cackled some more.
“Ah, didn’t I tell you, Elsie? Pure as the
driven snow.”
“I’m only seventeen,” Felicity protested.
“I should think I still have plenty of time yet
before I need to worry over that sort of thing. In
fact, right now my schooling is the most
important thing in the world. If I play my cards
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right, I’ll be Valedictorian at graduation this
year.”
“Oh my, and won’t that be quite the little
accomplishment?” said the would-be chef with
a vacuous smile. “I was the class Valedictorian
once. And now look at me, saddled with seven
children who need food in their mouths, and a
husband who can’t seem to rub more than a few
coppers at a time together, no matter how hard
he tries. He’s not the most powerful Mage who
ever lived, mind you, but at least he’s decent
enough to me.”
“I’m certain that you must love your
children very much, to end up in here trying to
feed the little dears,” Felicity pointed out with a
smile. “There’s no greater gift you can give them
than the gift of your heart.”
“Well, I wish one or the other of them
would gift me with a thank you every now and
then,” she complained. “Just wait, my dear.
Someday you’ll know exactly what I mean.”
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“I should hope not,” Felicity replied.
“Well, little miss Valedictorian, don’t let
us disturb your tender sensibilities any further,”
Elsie chuckled then. “In fact, I believe that
there’s a book to read right over there on the
little table. That should keep you occupied till
morning, even if sleep does not. Mind that you
stay off the top bunk, though, as it belongs to
me.”
“Do you always use the same bed when
you come in here, then?” the cooking witch
inquired.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “This is my home
away from home, after all. Do make yourself
comfortable, child.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you, ma’am,”
Felicity answered with a polite nod, earning
another round of laughter as a result.
“You’re very welcome, miss,” Elsie told
her with a curtsy.
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Felicity did her best to ignore the
continued ribaldry of the others as she turned
and walked over to retrieve the book the witch
had indicated off the table. She brought it with
her as she went to lie on the bottom bunk. She
didn’t look at the title until she’d plumped up the
flat pillow a bit and settled herself down into a
reasonably comfortable position.
She was thinking about what the mother
witch had just said. She hoped very much that if
ever she had any children of her own that she
would teach them enough about respect that they
would never fail to thank her for things, as those
other children did to their mother.
“Bewitching,” she muttered as she read
the book’s title aloud, and realized that she was
holding a rather spicy romance novel. It wasn’t
the kind of fare one ever found at the Academie,
and thus she had never had the opportunity to
read anything like it, but she was willing to give
it a go.
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In the middle of the book were a few
panels with pictures on them. More than one of
these depicted scenes where the characters in the
story were kissing or coupling, and with a blush
Felicity turned quickly from them to read the
book from the start.
As the story progressed, she came to the
scene where the witch first met her wizard. She
read it through with interest when she realized
some of the similarities it had with the way she’d
just encountered Lancelot Jones.
For one thing, this man had caught the
woman in a place she did not belong, just as
Lancelot had caught her. However, rather than
carrying her straight off to be judged, as
Lancelot had done to her, the wizard had begun
a slow seduction instead, kissing the witch with
a savage need.
Eyes rounded, Felicity found herself
gazing off into nothingness after a time, her
mind’s eye clearly focused on the earlier events
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of the evening. How her heart had lurched the
very moment she had first seen the handsome
wizard, and how it had not been simply the fright
of discovery that had been the cause.
What would it be like to kiss a man like
Lancelot Jones? To run her fingers through that
silky golden mane? What would it have felt like
if he’d been on top of her body like that without
any clothes at all, doing the things a man might
do to a woman in such a state, whatever those
things might be?
Maybe if she read a bit further, she might
even discover what some of them were, she
reflected, and then she found herself digging
about in the chapters in search of just the
information she craved.
It wasn’t until dawn that she realized
she’d fallen asleep with dreams of Lancelot
Jones’ kisses floating about inside her addled
head. She realized with a start that she’d been
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thinking with her body when she should be
thinking with her brain.
Very soon now, she would be brought
out to be judged for what she’d just done to
Dervish’s office. Her accuser, the very man
she’d been lusting after all night, surely had
formulated what he had to say in the matter by
now, while she had allowed herself to sink into
the realm of fantasy instead.
Well, she decided, that was no matter.
She would simply make up her defense now, in
plenty of time for the upcoming event. She spent
the greater part of three hours waiting before her
name was finally called.
Felicity’s stomach knotted up as she
stood and walked over to the officer who waited
for her at the cell door. The woman flicked her
wand, and wrist restraints appeared just above
Felicity’s hands, making her wince.
“These are hardly necessary, ma’am,”
she told her in a conciliatory tone.
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“Regulation,” the older witch barked
efficiently. “Come with me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, feeling a
bit nervous now.
You must be strong, she told herself. You
did nothing wrong, merely attempted to
illustrate how wrong the opinions of one wizard
were in the face of so many others people.
Felicity stepped out into the huge
courtroom filled with three hundred witches and
wizards who comprised the Council of Elders,
none of whom were less than four hundred years
old. She felt a little bit dizzy as she padded
further in. The officer who escorted her offered
her a steadying hand as she took a seat on the
chair in the center of the huge, formidable
chamber.
“Now comes Miss Felicity Lake to be
heard on the matter set before us,” called out the
bailiff, and Felicity watched fervently as
Lancelot Jones strode into view.