Dragon's Eye
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Dragon’s Eye
The wizard looked even more handsome
than he had the night before, with the
immaculate suit and his hair pulled carefully
back. She could well see why the wizard was so
well liked simply by the manner of his gait as he
strode confidently across the room.
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SEVEN
As Felicity sat there taking in all that
happened around her, she watched Lancelot
explain the situation that had brought them here
today. She was disgusted with herself for
hanging on the wizard’s every word. She kept
hoping he would look in her direction, but he
seemed to be avoiding her eyes with great
determination.
“Fellow Magi, the case before you now
is quite simple,” he explained in a cool, dynamic
tone that did queer things to her insides and
reminded her very much of how she’d felt while
he lay on top of her. “I apprehended this young
witch as she exited the office of Dervish
McTavert within the Magical Museum. She had
others with her, but she herself was the only one
I managed to catch.”
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“And has the witch revealed the names
of her accomplices?” asked the wizard who sat
in the seat just across from hers, about four
meters away. He floated slightly above everyone
else, making it apparent that he was in charge of
the proceedings.
“She has not, Director Ames,” said
Lancelot, finally casting her a brief glance. “I
believe she intends to take all of the punishment
herself instead.”
“Is this true, Miss Lake?” the older
wizard inquired with a raised brow. “Why would
you wish to shield your friends, when that could
only increase the degree of severity for your
crimes?”
Felicity cleared her throat and stood as
she looked the man squarely in the eye. “Sir, this
was never to do with the idea of stealing
anything. My friends and I simply disagree with
Dervish McTavert’s intention to have the Law
of Three repealed. It was my friends who
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thought to protest it, but I allowed myself to be
a party to doing so. I was the one who was
caught, so it is only just that I should be the one
to take the blame.”
“Master Jones, I understand that this
morning a charmed object exploded in Dervish
McTavert’s office,” Director Ames said. “Can
you tell the Council more about it?”
“Yes, Director,” Lancelot said with a
nod. “The object was a container of confetti, of
sorts, set to explode the moment Dervish himself
entered the room. A rather inventive adaptation
to the voluminate charm, I have to say.
“Anyway, it spoke in Miss Lake’s voice,
and said something to the effect of, ‘Dervish
McTavert, if you cannot understand that all
sentient beings should respect each other,
perhaps you should see how it feels to be treated
without that respect. Hopefully this will help.
All creatures, including the Mundanes, should
be treated equally.’”
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“I see,” he said with a nod of his head.
“Miss Lake, I can sympathize with your need to
protest the repeal hearing, but you took an
avenue of protest that was clearly disrespectful,
and criminal as well.
“Your lack of respect towards Dervish
McTavert, a Director on this Council and a pillar
of our community, cannot possibly demonstrate
the concept of respect. Your plan was ill-advised
at best, and your willful refusal to disclose the
names of your co-conspirators shows a
stubbornness that I cannot like.
“The Council will vote on three points.
The first is whether or not to deem the intrusion
as criminal, the second to determine if you
tampered with the belongings of Dervish
McTavert, and the third to agree that your charm
infringed upon the Law of Three because it
created discord. Magi Directors, please raise
your wands one at a time to cast your votes.”
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Every one of the three hundred members
of the council would have to raise their wands
and aim each of their three votes up to a
collection of colored lights that floated above
their heads. Felicity sat down again to wait for
the rather time-consuming process to be
completed.
While the Directors were thus occupied,
she could not help but steal an occasional glance
at Lancelot Jones. He had taken a seat closer to
the door, and appeared to be reading a book.
Felicity could not help but attempt to catch a
glimpse of its title, and when she finally did she
was quite surprised to discover it was the same
book she’d been reading the night before.
Why would a wizard like Lancelot
Jones, so strong-willed and outgoing, read a
steaming hot romance novel like that one?
Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.
Felicity was so busy speculating on this
that she didn’t even notice when the last of the
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Directors had cast his three votes. Not one
member sent a vote against any of the
judgments.
“Excuse me, Miss Lake?” she heard
Director Ames say. “I’ve addressed you three
times now. It’s about time you noticed.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, sir,” she said,
genuinely disgusted with herself for her flighty
ways. Lancelot patently did not look up from the
book, but she could see a slight smirk forming
on his lips, which irritated her to no end.
“Miss Lake, as you can see, the voting
has unanimously convicted you of your crimes,”
he said. “Have you anything to say for yourself
before I pass judgment?”
“Only that what I did, I did for a noble
cause,” she stated emphatically. “I believe the
Law of Three was long overdue in coming, and
to repeal it in the face of all that has transpired
would be a great disservice both to the
Mundanes and to the Magi. Perhaps it was
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wrong to take the specific actions for which I
must pay, but I cannot in good conscience tell
you that I am sorry for them, when I believe
them
to
be
well
justified
under
the
circumstances.”
“Master Jones, have you anything more
to say on the matter?” he asked. “You are, after
all, her accuser.”
Lancelot stood up, avoiding Felicity’s
&
nbsp; eyes more than ever. “Yes, sir, I do,” he stated
firmly. “Miss Lake’s heart may have been in the
right place, to her way of thinking, but still I
must point out that her thinking was flawed.
“Doing the very thing you are
protesting—which in this case was defiling the
belongings of a fellow Magi—cannot be
justified. It’s a simple enough concept, to be
sure, that doing so must ruin the credibility of
the person taking such action as a result.
“Miss Lake is an impressionable young
woman, and she has not yet learned the ways of
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the world. She needs to be punished lest she go
on to do even worse crimes than this.
“Furthermore, sir, it must be noted that
many things within the Magical Museum are
irreplaceable. Who knows what sort of treasures
Miss Lake might have inadvertently destroyed
when she turned them to confetti? We do not
even know yet just how much damage her
indiscretion has caused.”
“Very well, Master Jones,” he said.
“Then it is the judgment of this court that in
recompense for her crimes Miss Felicity Lake
will be expected to complete three hundred
hours of community service.
“It is the hope of the Council that she will
learn some of the life skills that she currently
lacks during the course of her servitude. Miss
Lake, you will be set loose from this place so
long as you sign the paperwork and report to
work every evening as expected.
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“If you do not agree, or if you fail to
complete your service to the community as
mandated by this body herein assembled, you
will of course be locked up for the duration of
those hours instead. Is this understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
“Bailiff, please escort Miss Lake to the
processing room,” Director Ames said. “Next
case up, Master Jones and Director Dervish
McTavert have petitioned the Council to repeal
the Law of Three, which is our right should we
choose to do so. And Arnold, after you’ve
delivered Miss Lake to the community service
facilitator, will you please show Director
McTavert back in so he can be heard? We had to
send him out of the room during the last
proceeding, on which he was unable to vote.”
“Certainly, sir,” the bailiff agreed.
“Can’t I stay to watch this part?” Felicity
pleaded softly.
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“No, Miss Lake, you must go through
processing,” he told her as they exited the
chamber. “Besides, I have a feeling you would
not be able to sit quietly as the case was
discussed.”
“You’re probably right about that,” she
said with a sigh.
“Here, let me take those cuffs off of
you,” he offered, and flicked his wand toward
her wrists, making the glowing bands that had
been holding her hands together disappear in a
small puff of smoke.
“I thought that those things were
supposed to be regulation,” Felicity commented
dryly.
“Only for the prisoners,” he answered
with a smile. “You’re no longer a prisoner, Miss
Lake, you are just not done conducting your
business within the building.”
“Yes, I suppose that makes sense,” she
said.
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“So, I heard you’ll soon be graduating,”
he added conversationally. “My son, Rian
Arnold, graduates this year as well. Perhaps you
might know him.”
“Yes, I know who he is,” she said. “But
if you don’t mind, sir, I’ve so very much on my
mind right now, I need to just sit down and take
in everything that’s happened. Does that even
make sense? I’ve no idea; I’ve never been
arrested before.”
“It absolutely does. It can be quite
overwhelming to do something new. Well, here
we are, young lady,” he said as he opened a door.
“Go right on in and give them your name, and
the witches back there can get your wand out of
storage and finalize all your paperwork. They
are really good. They’ve got about ten different
charities they’ll choose between for you. I
suggest you join at least one or two extras as
well, just to regulate your place within the
universal scheme of things.”
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“Thank you, sir, for all your help.”
“That’s my job, Miss Lake,” he
reminded her. “But believe me when I say, you
made that job much easier today.”
“I’m glad to hear it, sir,” she said. Then
she stepped inside to face her punishment even
as she continued to daydream of Lancelot Jones.
EIGHT
In the last couple of months since the
incident at the Magical Museum, Felicity
became quite a bit more familiar with dishes
than she cared to. But though she disliked her
chore, the woman who employed her to the task
was someone she now easily considered a
friend.
Madame Grelda loved nothing so much
as talking. She talked almost incessantly as she
cooked and Felicity cleaned, preparing her
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restaurant for the onslaught of customers who
would arrive in the evening. Felicity suspected
that the older one was a bit lonely, and was glad
for her company whenever she came.
School was finished for yet another day,
and Felicity couldn’t be happier about it.
Though she truly loved the Academie Magica,
and those she called friends there, far too many
of the other students had heard about what she’d
done, and they had been troubling her with their
opinions about it.
“There she is, boys,” snorted Bruno
Lovette as she stepped out into the hall. “The girl
who thinks she can lead a Director around by his
nose. Off to battle another dragon this afternoon,
Miss Fancy-pants?”
Felicity scowled at him. “You know very
well I’m not.”
“Of course not,” he replied smugly. “Not
with your aunt permanently fixed in the loony
motel, unable to take you there.”
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“Leave her alone, Lovette,” Felicity
grumbled. “You can’t blame her for being on the
bad end of an ill-cast spell.”
Bruno hooted with amusement. “I
certainly can,” he guffawed. “And I think I
will!”
“I don’t have time for this right now,”
she grumbled, and turned to go.
Felicity lifted her wand, and soon found
herself at Madame Grelda’s. There she found
herself faced with yet another mountain of
dishes, and with a sigh she dove right in and got
to work. She could scarcely imagine how the
Mundanes could possibly get this particular
chore done without the use of a wand to zap off
all the grime, and she was ever-thankful that she
did not have to find out.
Of course, magic didn’t always get a dish
completely clean if the dirt was stuck on, so
occasionally Felicity was forced to apply a bit of
elbow grease. Madame Grelda always thanked
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her profusely for being such a responsible young
woman whenever she found her doing this, for
as she’d said, she considered it ‘above and
beyond the call of duty.’
Madame Grelda started talking almost
immediately, of course. On this particularly
warm day in May, only a few days before
Felicity’s impending graduation, the kitchen
witch was feeling especially talkative, though.
She had regaled Felicity with anecdotes and bits
of trivia before, but for some reason when the
woman mentioned an individual by the name of
Caracticus Snigget, it caught Felicity’s interest.
“Have you ever heard of him, my dear?”
she asked garrulously.
“No, Madame, I don’t believe I have,”
Felicity answered, forgetting for the moment
that she was using her wand to quick-dry a load
of plates until Grelda stepped over and re-aimed
her hand in the right direction.
“Oh. Sorry.”
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“Well, my dear, you simply must learn
about the goings on of our world, if you’re to
integrate into your life as an adult within it,” she
said. “I mean, I half expected that useless school
of yours to have a class on local lore to help you
out, but I suppose they think they have bigger
fish to fry.”
“Yes, I suppose they do,” Felicity