Magic Lost: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Touched By Magic: Dragon Book 3)

by Ashley Meira

  “I see,” he said slowly, dipping his head. A fiery red curtain obscured his features, and his damned magic was non-existent, so I couldn’t read anything from him. “You and your sister he wanted for your heritage. Fiona…. Well, he had a different interest in her.”

  “Do you know what that is?” I asked, hoping to use the information as an olive branch. “Why he wanted Fiona?”

  “The Protector and Warrior thing was a much bigger deal back in the day, before Fireborns were declared anathema. Those twins were hailed as the pinnacle of magical power and were worshipped by others of our kind. Nicholas had his eyes set on that, the delusions of godhood brought on by his birth.”

  My head shot up, his words distracting me from the fact that he’d ignored my question about Fiona. “He’s a twin? He’s one of them?”

  “He was. Until his brother was killed. Inquisitors.” Bane lifted his head and pulled his hair back. “He and his brother were born around the time the Council began their witch hunt. I believe the reason was ‘resisting arrest’ or some such nonsense. I find it hard to believe a ten-year-old boy could put up such a fight that he had to be killed, but it was a long time ago — far before the Council had the kind of ‘policing the police’ they do now. Which still isn’t saying much.”

  “He lost his powers when his brother died?” I asked, utterly confused.

  “He lost the status and gifts afforded by his birth. The Warrior cannot exist without the Protector and vice versa. After his brother’s death, the gifts were passed to his aunt’s children.”

  “He’s not my father,” I breathed, relief flooding through me with such intensity I began to cry. “He can’t be.”

  To my surprise, Bane laughed. It was a short bark of laughter, but laughter nonetheless. “Is that what was bothering you?”

  “Part of it,” I said in a cracked voice. Damn it. I hated how squeaky my voice got when I cried. “What the hell does he want with us? What does the brand mean? Why did he keep us locked up? Why—”

  “Did he keep you locked up?”

  I glared at him. “No, we were treated like royalty.”

  His brow arched at the acidity in my tone. “The brand is his mark, so there’s no hidden meaning for you to read into. How long were you held captive?”

  I thought back to the dream with my parents. How old had I been there? Four, maybe? I wasn’t sure. “At least ten years, I think. Maybe more.”

  “In all that time, he never once mentioned what he wanted from you?”

  “Your power will bathe this world in fire.”

  I swallowed thickly and repeated the words from my dream. “Whatever that means. He raised us as weapons.”

  “You are remarkably uneducated for a trained weapon.”

  If looks could kill, Bane would’ve died twice over. “Screw you.”

  He shrugged. “You were a child when he took you. I can’t imagine Nicholas, no matter how controlling he is, didn’t give you some insight into his plans.”

  The dragoness huffed as I dug my fingers into her neck and opened one slitted eye. I loosened my grip and patted her hide. “I don’t remember. The night I escaped…. I woke up in a cell without any memories.”

  “Then why are you mad at me?”

  A shrill cry pierced the night. One of the dragonlings waddled toward its mother and rolled onto its side, revealing a gash along its hind leg. The wound looked like a bite mark, and I looked toward the rest of the babies to see one with blood around its mouth. Guess the roughhousing went too far. The poor thing shrieked and thrashed for attention. Tears streamed down its cheeks, dissolving into steam as they did so. After giving the child a once over, the dragoness closed her eyes with a huff. Apparently, the injury was no cause for concern.

  Its mother’s indifference did nothing to calm it, and the dragonling bawled harder, filling the air with steam. Despite having caused the injury, the bloody-mouthed dragonling began crying too, followed by the rest of its siblings. The courtyard was filled with shrill cries, forcing me to slam my hands against my ears.

  “Make them stop!”

  Bane held out his arms. “Hand him over.”

  I picked up the wounded dragonling, his rough hide scratching my palms as he fussed. Bane placed the child in his lap and held his hand over the wound. A white light streamed from his fingertips, and soon the wound began knitting back together. Even when it was healed, the dragonling continued bawling. Bane sighed and tapped its snout until it opened its eyes to see the injury was gone. The dragonling let out one last whimper before silencing.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t calm the rest of the herd. I glared at Bane as they continued crying, but all he did was shrug. The dragoness lifted her head and everything went silent. She stayed up there a moment, her eyes still shut, before resting back onto my lap. Her babies nuzzled into each other, trying to push their siblings forward to take the blame.

  “I like your style,” I told the dragon. She opened an eye and looked at me before resuming her snoozing. “Tell me more about the Protector and Warrior. Are they just super powerful Fireborn?”

  “They were the leaders of the Fireborn,” he said. “Back when Fireborns were unified enough to lead. The Warrior protected the clan, and the Protector kept them healthy. Together, they made sure we all lived happily.”

  “Explains why Diana’s a healer, and why I used to blow things up all the time.”

  He nodded. “Indeed, though all Fireborn can heal — in a sense.”

  My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Did you forget what I just told you?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.

  “Is being super sassy also a Fireborn thing?” I deadpanned.

  “Perhaps,” he said tersely. “Fireborn can heal others the same way the phoenixes and dragons healed them, though I suppose it’s not really healing. More like sacrifice.”

  “They died to heal those mages?”

  “No, they transferred part of their Fire into them.”

  “I can do that? Wouldn’t it make whoever I was healing Fireborn?”

  He shook his head. “The dragons and phoenixes sent part of their Fire into the mages, lighting their soul anew. However, their control over the Fire is much more precise. It is an innate talent for them, but not for us.”

  “How so?”

  “They can’t limit how much they transfer. Instead of passing on part of their Fire, leaving some to be reignited within, Fireborns expend their all of their Fire. It can even bring back the dead, so long as the death is recent.”

  “I’m confused. Wouldn’t that mean my Fire would go into them and make them Fireborn?” And wow, I could bring back the dead? Finally, a silver lining to this day.

  “No. There would be no Fire left. It would be consumed in the process — along with the Fireborn’s magic.”

  I sighed. Apparently that silver lining was ash.

  “So, don’t do it?”

  “Very good,” he said in a tone one would use with a particularly slow child. “Some self-sacrificing lots used it during the Inquisition to save their dying children. Fat lot of good that was — all it accomplished was a bunch of orphans.” His eyes darkened. “My point is, the sacrifice isn’t worth it.”

  “It can heal anything?” I asked.

  “You really don’t listen, do you?” He wrinkled his nose as I stuck my tongue out at him, and for a moment, I thought he would return the gesture. He didn’t but the mental image was enough to mollify me. “It can heal fatal or near fatal injuries. I have no idea about diseases. Now, I think that’s enough storytelling for one night. Do you need me to tuck you in as well?”

  “Are you offering?” I asked, unable to fight my grin.

  Despite the rollercoaster this day had been, speaking with Bane had lifted my mood. I felt much lighter despite the weight of new knowledge. Maybe it was because a ton of questions were gone. Most importantly, I learned Nicholas was definitely not my father. That alone was enough to make me jump for jo
y.

  Bane’s lips turned up. “Ask that rapidly approaching boyfriend of yours to do it instead.”

  Sure enough, the scent of pine was approaching. “That reminds me: how are you so good at hiding your magic? Nicholas doesn’t do that, though I remember him mentioning he would teach me.”

  “Practice,” he said, looking at his hands. “We’re both very old. I imagine he doesn’t do it because his magic intimidates those who sense it. He likely hides it around Inquisitors and the sort.”

  “Will you teach me?” I asked with the nicest smile I could think of. I tried batting my eyelashes too, but I was pretty sure it just made me look twitchy.

  “You seem to have a firm grasp on the concept already, but perhaps,” he said with a hint of amusement. “When the threat of armageddon isn’t on the horizon.”

  “Sophia— Whoa.” Adam was half out the door, his eyes fixed on the cluster of dragons around us.

  The dragoness stood, her teeth bared. Before she could roar, Bane placed a hand on her snout and pulled her face into his lap. She snorted and swept her dragonlings toward her with one wing, never taking her eyes off Adam.

  “You should go,” Bane said. “Before she realizes she’s hungry.”

  I nodded and stood. “Thank you for speaking with me. It really means a lot.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, slipping his expressionless mask back on. “Good night, Sophia.”

  “Good night,” I said, going over to Adam. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him back into the foyer. “I’m surprised you’re still awake.”

  He ran his eyes over my body. “That’s my jacket.”

  “Well, yeah.” I shrugged, unable to hide the impish smile on my face. “Did you want me talking to Bane in my, as you so eloquently put it, tiny pair of lace…. I don’t know. You cut off.”

  “You cut me off,” he said, lust overwhelming the snark in his words. His hands slid down to cup my backside. “I was waiting for you.”

  “What’s the matter?” I teased. “Can’t sleep alone?”

  “Not well. Not since I got you into my bed,” he said in a husky voice. “But that’s not what I was waiting for.”

  The growl in his voice made it impossible for me to tear my eyes off him, and when I spoke, my voice was equally husky. “What do you want, Adam?”

  “You,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot and wet. “I’m going to make you pay for leaving me high and dry.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I had to force myself out of the warm paradise that was Adam’s embrace the next morning. He made a valiant effort not to look disappointed, but I couldn’t shake how much I’d rather stay in bed with him than go off to face the Emperor of Earth.

  “Now that I think of it,” I told Adam as we got dressed, “Emperor of Earth sounds more like a dorky sci-fi name than some scary mage with insane mastery over the element.”

  He scoffed, slipping a fitted black tee over his sleep-tousled hair. “If you plan on telling him that, please wait until I’m as far away from you as possible.”

  I tossed my jacket at him before plucking the outerwear off his head and going downstairs. There was a distinct “last night on Earth” vibe in the dining room when I stepped into it. Mostly from Charlotte, who was sitting in the corner clutching her cup. She was curled up on the seat looking very much like a child who’d been grounded.

  “You’re taking me with you, right?” she asked when I approached. “To get the Wreath back.”

  I ducked her gaze and went to pour myself some coffee. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I have to go,” she insisted. “That Wreath is my responsibility. If something happens to it—”

  “What?” Bane interjected. “You’ll stop them from destroying the Wreath so someone else can try to summon Trixie?”

  His words humbled her, and she looked at the floor. “Of course not. I just want to see this through. I was the one who lost the Wreath, I should be the one to get it back.”

  I took the seat next to her, trying to find the right words. “I admire your sense of duty, but it’s still too dangerous. Gadot is supposed to be very powerful, not to mention who else might have joined him.” Like Diana or Seraphine. Or Nicholas. “There are way too many risks involved. You need to leave it to professionals.”

  She pursed her lips. “I am a professional.”

  “Professional combatants,” Bane drawled. “Unless your fossil brush has the ability to instantly kill would-be gods, you’re staying here. Two dragons are due to give birth today. I need someone to look after the house while I tend to them.”

  I frowned. Then who would watch Charlotte? “They can’t give birth by themselves?”

  “They can. As can you. But I’m sure you’d much rather give birth in the comfort of a hospital — or at least with a healer.”

  “Who’s giving birth?” Adam asked, his eyes fixed on me. “Did you forget to tell me something?”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I hid them behind my coffee mug. “Dragons. Dragons are giving birth. That is all.”

  Bane arched a brow. “Sophia—”

  “That. Is. All. No one else is having babies,” I said quickly, avoiding Adam’s look. “Unless it’s food babies. Bring on the bacon.”

  “With the amount of bacon you eat, you might actually end up birthing a pig,” Adam said, coming to press a kiss against my forehead.

  “I suppose I have to cook, then?” Bane let out an exaggerated sigh.

  “Didn’t Charlotte cook yesterday?” Fiona’s voice came through the tall archway.

  The redhead appeared a moment later, sleep still clouding her eyes. Eyes that didn’t meet mine, I noticed with a heavy pang of sadness. Now wasn’t the time to apologize. We’d both just woken up, which meant we were still pretty temperamental. I decided to wait until after we’d stopped this ritual. If we won, we’d be too happy to stay upset. If we didn’t…. Well, we could agree that a small fight was less important than the rising chaos Nicholas seemed to be unleashing.

  “Perhaps you should take the reins,” Bane told Charlotte. “Might take your mind off things.”

  Fiona grabbed a red mug from the shelf and filled it with steaming hot coffee. “Worried about today? Don’t be. We’re professionals — except Adam. We’ll take care of this.”

  Adam snorted, and she gave him a smug look. At least she wasn’t mad at him.

  “That’s what Sophia told her,” Bane said. “Didn’t seem to do any good. Her heart is still set on going.”

  “What?” Adam stiffened beside me. I took his hand before he could stand up, but there was no diffusing the stern look he fixed on his sister. “There is no way in hell you are leaving the house today.”

  Charlotte wilted under his gaze. “I just—”

  “Absolutely not.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Adam, I already told her no.”

  “And she didn’t listen.” He leaned toward her. “This is way too dangerous. You aren’t leaving until we come back and tell you it’s safe. Bane, you need to keep an eye on her.”

  “I’m busy,” the Fireborn drawled as he prepared breakfast.

  Adam frowned. “Doing what?”

  “Not being a babysitter, for one. I have to tend to the dragons today. I’d bring Charlotte along, but she wouldn’t be any safer than if she followed you.”

  “That can’t wait?” Adam asked testily.

  Bane gave him an unimpressed look over his shoulder. “Believe it or not, Mr. Pierce, I am not here to serve you. Perhaps, instead of bothering me, you should speak to your sister like an adult and convince her to stay put. That way you won’t need a babysitter.”

  “There’s no need for a babysitter either way,” Charlotte huffed. “I am not a child.”

  I sighed as her words set Adam off even further. While I hadn’t been happy about the desolate mood that permeated the room when I walked in, I’d have much preferred eating breakfast in a grim silence rather than a tense one.
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  Instead, I had to endure watching Adam baby his sister to the point where her sad, anxious looks grew tight and resentful. If Fiona and I were speaking, I’d have asked her what I could say to calm him down. But we weren’t, so Bane had to step in like a begrudging parent and pry them apart. Hopefully, things would go up from here.

  Bane directed us to the summit with instructions so clear I suspected witchcraft. I supposed living here had given him a profound understanding of the terrain, but it should have been impossible to be so precise. Maybe being super old gave him an edge over that sort of thing.

  Before he left, Bane promised he would have a dragon sit outside his home to watch Charlotte. There was only one exit, so she wouldn’t be able to leave without being caught. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was more concerned about her than he let on or if Adam’s harping had finally worn him down, but I felt better knowing something would stop her from escaping.

  “Are you sure there are no secret exits out of your place?” I’d asked, suspicion plastered across my face and tone.

  “None she knows about,” he’d replied. It didn’t make me feel better, but it didn’t make me feel worse, either.

  I let out a sigh as we continued our awkwardly silent trek. Not that I didn’t like climbing mountains in search of rare treasure, but usually the stakes weren’t as high, and I hadn’t just finished the breakfast-from-awkward-family-hell.

  Also, Symeon usually paid me enough to forget the grave peril he put me in. Then again, Mr. Pierce was paying me a lot of money. Sure, it was for finding his daughter, but considering how lackluster that had been, I figured I could throw saving the world in there, too.

  “This is too quiet,” Fiona muttered. “I don’t like it.”

  Adam nodded. “Last time it was this quiet, I was almost eaten by a dragon.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said. “Charlotte said the dragons were avoiding this place, didn’t she? I’m more worried about the lack of guards.”