by Robin Wirth
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Robin Joy Wirth
SIXTEEN
The next day, Felicity was right back to
sorting through the books until lunchtime, but
this time she came searching for Lance in the
break room. They ate a quiet meal together near
the fireplace, which Lance had been obliged to
light since it had grown cold outside.
“How did your trouble turn out last
night?” she asked conversationally. “It would
appear that you survived.”
“There are certain persons, of whom we
rarely speak, with powers quite foul,” Lance
grumbled. “I suspect he was only following us
around to see where we might go, but that
prospect does not sit well with me. Word of your
new position within the museum has surely
traveled by now.”
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“And why should that matter to this
man?” she wanted to know.
“Felicity, listen to me. You must be
careful of strangers from now on. There are
those who would do anything to get inside this
museum's walls, even if it meant somehow
involving you in that attempt,” he said, covering
her hand with his own. “Do you understand? I
would not wish you to fall to harm.”
Felicity nodded. “A young woman alone
in her home? Of course I am going to be careful.
I'm surprised you didn't already know.”
Lance asked, “Felicity? How did you do
in dueling class back at school? I should like to
help you hone those skills. You might need
them, working around here.”
“I was at the top of my class, actually,”
she said, her eyes widening with interest. “It was
something I really enjoyed doing.”
Lance smiled. “Well, then, how about
enjoying it with me? Three sets, shall we say?”
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“What, you want to duel right now?”
“Of course,” he said, smirking. “Why
else would I be asking?”
“Where are we to duel, sir?” she asked
curiously. “I don't see a runway.”
Lancelot flicked his wand, and the far
wall of the room suddenly stretched and
disappeared. Where the kitchen stood a moment
ago, now stood a long, wide arena. Both Lance
and Felicity were suddenly wearing long,
flowing white robes, and their hair flowed freely
down their backs.
Felicity laughed. “Someone has a flair
for the dramatic, I see.”
“I hope you're ready, Miss Lake,”
Lancelot grinned slyly. “I don't intend to show
you any mercy.”
“Dramatic, and much too confident for
your own good,” she added as she began to walk
to the other side of the arena. “Perhaps I'd best
take you down a peg or two.”
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“That's the spirit,” said Lance
appreciatively. “Something tells me that at long
last I've found an opponent who is worthy. Don't
disappoint me, my dear.”
Felicity fought hard, with each of them
winning one set. The third battle was the
fiercest, and quite close. She was almost certain
she was about to win, but of course the final set
went to Lance. However, he did seem suitably
impressed by her skills.
“You are the most amazing young
woman,” he told her, smiling. “Even Dervish
himself does not fight so well. I believe his
concerns about you protecting yourself are
sorely misplaced. You'll be able to hold your
own quite well.”
“Thank you, Master Jones,” she replied.
“Coming from a wizard like you, that is a real
compliment indeed.”
For a few weeks it went on that way,
with most of Felicity’s day spent on books, and
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a small part of the afternoon spent with Lancelot,
determining where to store the artifacts, dueling,
or selecting useful topics to study together.
During that time, the two formed an uneasy sort
of friendship between them, both of them
wishing for more, but neither wishing to be the
one to say so.
At night, Felicity stayed awake for
hours, just staring off into space. It helped to
spend some time talking to Penelope during the
evenings, but whenever she lay down at night,
her bed seemed much emptier than she’d ever
imagined a bed could be. She could not ignore
the ache of longing in her heart.
For his part, Lance often returned to the
museum while Felicity was not there, just to be
near the place he knew she’d been. He felt like a
pathetic little puppy that hankered after a bone
he wanted, but could not figure out how to reach
it. The shower in the break room’s bathroom got
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used a great deal more often, but as for the hot
water, he never touched the knob.
Then came the day that Felicity
accidentally opened the wrong containment
portal while they were working in the artifacts
room, and out popped a huge, nasty troll. He
reared his big, ugly head and let out a roar of
outrage.
“Back up slowly, Felicity,” Lancelot
cautioned, holding out his hand to her. “We’re
going to need to put him back, I’m afraid. We
can’t have him running about wrecking the
place.”
Quick as a flash, Felicity turned her
wand in a peculiar manner, and the troll popped
right back in where he’d come from. The
doorway slammed shut with a resounding click.
Lance stood there staring at her as if he’d just
seen a ghost.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asked
him with some amusement.
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“How did you do that?” he asked. “Last
time that blighter got out, it took me a week to
get him back in again.”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just lucky that
way.”
“Luck has little to do with it, Felicity,”
he said, halfway in awe. “That had to have been
pure skill.”
“Stop it,” she said with a blush, but
Lancelot came over and gave her hand a
squeeze.
“I mean it,” he told her. “I’ve never seen
anything like that, ever. And I work with spells
every day.”
“What do you say we put away a few
more things, and call it a night?” she asked,
suddenly feeling quite tired.
“After what you just did, my dear,
perhaps we should call it a night right now.”
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SEVENTEEN
The day after the incident with the troll,
Felicity arrived to work and found that Lancelot
was nowhere to be found. Never one to shirk her
<
br /> duties, she simply headed for the books and
began to sort them as usual.
She couldn’t help but think about
Lancelot as she worked, however. He was by far
the most handsome wizard she knew, and every
time he came anywhere near her, her heart still
sped up until she thought he would hear it
beating.
If someone asked her, she couldn’t put
her finger on just one thing about Lancelot Jones
that she liked best. He was handsome, of course,
but he was also very smart, and he knew about
many things she’d never dreamed of, which was
definitely saying something considering the vast
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amount of knowledge she’d gathered over her
lifetime.
He could recite facts and figures, just as
though he were reading them from a book. He
was constantly to be seen examining broken
items and figuring out how to fix them. And best
of all, he never picked on her when she gave an
opinion that differed from his own.
Felicity loved the way his eyes followed
her as she walked beside him, as though she
were too enticing to be ignored. By the gods, she
wished that were the truth. That Lancelot Jones
had as much trouble ignoring her as she had
ignoring him.
It made her so damned hot, just thinking
of those beautiful eyes of his, how their greenish
depths darkened as he gazed at her sometimes.
What did it mean, the way he watched
her? What was the man thinking when he did
that? What chance could there be that someday
he might reveal those thoughts to her?
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Of course, on an instinctual level,
Felicity knew the wizard desired her—he
touched her for no particular reason often
enough to make that clear. But what she wasn’t
sure of was if she was the only woman he treated
in that manner, or if he simply enjoyed the fairer
sex and thought she was a particularly good
representation of it.
“Perhaps it’s not quite as complicated as
it seems. Maybe I’m just over-analyzing the
entire situation,” she muttered, then gave a
heavy sigh and sat down on a tall pile of books
to take a break. She leaned her head in her hands
and covered her face, so she did not see Dervish
approaching her until he spoke.
“There ye are, Miss Lake,” came his
heavy accent as the man himself flew into view,
wand held high. “I wondered where ye’d gotten
yerself off to. Ye’ll be needed in the front office,
lassie. Official museum business. Lancelot is
already there waiting for us.”
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“What’s going on, Dervish?” asked
Felicity as she raised her wand and followed him
out. The two of them traversed the hall and
reached the exit within a manner of seconds as
their conversation continued.
“News has reached my ears of a most
urgent nature,” he explained. “Are ye at all
familiar with any of the legends of the dragons,
Miss Lake?”
With a twinge of surprise, Felicity
answered, “Why yes, as a matter of fact they
have recently become one of my specialties, you
might say.”
“Excellent, my dear,” he said with a grin.
“And had ye not told me that ye had some
dealings with a dragon in the past?”
“Well yes, but what has any of that got
to do with your news?” Felicity inquired.
“I was pleased to find that ye had
repaired the Unveiling Fountain as we
discussed. I just tested it out yesterday, lassie,
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and it works perfectly, by the way,” he
explained. “However, while I was out and about
I ran across an old nemesis of mine who seemed
very interested in one of the ancient legends
concerning a dragon.”
“A nemesis, sir?” she smirked.
“Well, I canna think of a better
description,” he shrugged. “But while we dined
together, he spoke of a particular Grimoire, the
likes of which hasna been seen by human eyes
for centuries unnumbered. And I know Crat well
enough by now to ascertain that where an
interest is expressed, there is always the danger
that his search has already begun. I fear that if
he should find the book, he would use it for
purposes we wouldna care to dream of. The only
way to prevent that must be to find it first.”
“Where is the Grimoire now?” Felicity
wanted to know.
“Somewhere in the mountains of
southern France,” he said. “For the most part, I
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believe it should be a fairly easy mission. At
least, it will be until ye actually find the place.
Then ye might have to contend with the dragon
there in order to obtain the book, but for
someone with yer particular skills I dinna think
it would pose much of a problem.”
“So it’s just a quick jaunt down south for
a bit of adventure, and then back to the books,
you say?” she clarified.
“Oh yes, lass, I think it should be smooth
sailing all the way.”
“Well then, what are we waiting for?”
Felicity teased as they landed outside the office
door.
Stepping inside, they found Lance seated
near the window, using the daylight to read the
newspaper he held in his hands. Felicity glanced
at the cover page and recognized it by the name
printed there, ‘The Meandering Way’. It was a
paper largely dedicated to the chaos theory in
practice.
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“Ah, Master Jones, I see you are busily
looking for ways to wreak havoc,” she teased
him cheerfully. “What manner of naughtiness
has that magazine set forth for your delectation
this week?”
“Miss Felicity,” he nodded in greeting,
then continued his reading for a few more
moments. “Nothing of great import, I’m sorry to
say. And I had so hoped to read about a grand
adventure.”
“But are we not about to have a grand
adventure of our own?” she pointed out with a
small smile.
“Indeed, yes,” he agreed. “It shall be
lovely to get out and about while the sun is still
shining, for once winter arrives I hardly think
we’ll have the same desire to do so.”
“You’re very right about that,” she
agreed. “But only think, winter is not so bad
when you’ve a good book to curl up with.”
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Lancelot laughed. “Hoping to read the
little tome when we’ve returned with it, I see.”
“Why bother to go get
it if I can’t
discover what all the fuss is about? Besides,
dragons are a special interest of mine. I’ve
unfinished business where they are concerned.”
Lance gave her a curious look when she
said this. Felicity did not elaborate.
“Come over here, both of ye,” said
Dervish as he used his wand to roll a huge globe
out for them to look at. He flicked his wand to
light up the area he was talking about as he
continued.
“By reading all the legends concerning
the dragon known as Amaranth, I have
determined that the probable location of the
twice-cursed dragoness and her Grimoire
Draconis. It will lie somewhere in this region,
here, within the mountain range. Ye will, of
course, have to figure out precisely where by
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means I dinna yet ken. Thot will be for the two
of ye to discover.”
“What do we know about this particular
dragoness or her book?” Lance asked as he
enlarged the area they were looking at into a
back-lit extension that floated above the original
globe. Felicity moved closer to his side to have
a better look, and he gave her a slight smile that
made her stomach do a little flip as she returned
it.
“Mostly just the legends, which are not
always to be relied upon completely,” Dervish
told him as he hid a smile when he noticed their
exchange. “It has been said thot for reasons
unknown, the giants cleaved a special gem she
possesses in twain, and to date it was never able
to be mended. No one who has ever gone in
search of the Dragon’s Eye or Amaranth’s
hidden lair has ever returned to tell the tale, so
ye must be very careful how ye proceed.”
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“Smooth sailing, eh?” Felicity scoffed
with a wry smile in Dervish’s direction. “Sounds
more like a thunderstorm waiting to happen.”
