Wyvern's Secret

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  “No, you’re too vulnerable without me, and my magical fire can protect you. Thayer would never forgive me if something happened to you,” I tell him, although no one knows what we’re doing out here.

  “We can’t let you go inside, lordi lord. We’re brave and proud Pixies. And we’ve never seen a Warlock in our life,” Lenin says, flying around us. I have a bad feeling about going inside and Jorgen seems apprehensive too. None of us have any idea what to expect.

  The sky starts filling with dark clouds and thick mists begin drifting around the place. It’s the Warlock sending out another warning. He doesn’t want us to go inside, and I have a feeling we should respect his wishes.

  “No, I can’t remain without my dragon. Just make sure we all stick together, I don’t want any surprises,” Jorgen says and I swallow past the lump of fear growing in my throat. The stingy reminder of what happened to me a few months back in the mill when I was playing with magic, trying to remove my scar burns my memory. I was lucky to have gained my invisibility charm, but I could’ve easily died.

  The duke kicks the old door and we go inside. The space is empty, there’s graffiti on the walls, a pile of rubbish on the floor and some empty bottles of alcohol laying around. There are large wooden blocks scattered around the place that weren’t here before. The burning smell of herbs and other unknown, unpleasant odours linger in the air.

  None of this reminds me of Emilia when she brews her potions. A sudden blast of energy smacks me in the shoulder. The pain spreads down my legs, but I don’t say anything, trying not to scare the Pixies or the duke. It looks like for now, I’m the only one affected.

  We move slowly through the rooms and begin climbing up the old squeaky staircase. The room where I used to perform certain spells is on our right. Small traces of salt and my own scent are still there, and Jetli’s staring at me like she wants to remind me what happened the last time I tried to play with unknown magic.

  “Don’t come any further. You’re not welcome here. I’ve given you enough warnings,” says a voice coming from upstairs. I swallow hard, trying to sense the warlock, but his energy is faint.

  Then I look up and my jaw drops. There’s a little girl, probably around seven years old, standing at the top of the stairs, wearing a tiara on her head. She’s very cute and suddenly I want to run to her and squeeze her cheeks.

  “It’s the Warlock. Don’t go anywhere near her or you’ll suffer greatly. They can change their appearance often,” Lenin warns, whispering into my ear. Jorgen starts running towards the stairs, probably attracted by the Warlock’s spell.

  “Jorgen wait–no it’s only an illusion,” I shout after him, but he doesn’t seem to hear me at all. I shake my head and run to the top floor of the mill that had been occupied at one time. When I get there, I see Jorgen standing a meter away from me, all the windows are shaded and there’s a giant pot with boiling water, cooking under a fire in the middle of the room.

  The duke seems mesmerised, staring at the Warlock who now looks like his father. My Pixies are flying around, Jetli’s dropping her dust everywhere, no doubt trying to break the Warlock’s spell. Fake Hans smiles, looking healthy and so much younger, more like the mage from years ago when Rivenna was under his rule. Then his eyes move down to me and they glow with a blue light.

  “Wyvern creature … how nice to see you decided to pay me a visit,” he says and I take out my sword, but then I feel pressure wrap around my back, as if an invisible, heavy chain’s tightening around my entire body. I’m starting to choke, falling down to my knees, trying to get oxygen into my lungs.

  Jorgen stands transfixed, not moving at all–he seems to be in a trance. When Lenin pokes him with his long fingers, he finally snaps out of it, glancing around disoriented.

  “Astri, what the hell’s going on? What are you doing to her?” he shouts looking at his fake father, grabbing my hands. Blood rushes to my face and I try to take a breath, but the invisible chains are getting tighter by the second and I’m still choking. Jetli’s flying towards the Warlock who then turns into a woman wearing a red, silky dress–she stops abruptly–staring at his new illusion. The Warlock suspends her in the air. Lenin quickly flies to her, trying to help her with his magic.

  “Hmm. What do we have here? A lust-driven shifter, a broken mage and Welsh Pixies who are determined to fight me. I’ll let the Wyvern live for now, because you’re all intriguing me,” she says and the chains finally release their death grip. I fall to the floor, coughing and taking a few raspy breaths.

  My heart pounds in my ears while Jorgen helps me up, causing the skin on my arms to burn. The world around me spins for a bit, and my stomach rolls with nausea. The giant pot in the middle of the room is filled with boiling, crystal clear water, then it changes colour, turning into a thick, black mass of liquid.

  I glance back at the Warlock who changes her appearance again, now appearing as a stunning stranger. She’s beautiful, with smooth, blond hair, long eyelashes, and long legs. Her body radiates with pulsing, static energy. I have no idea if she’s just using her glamour or if she really is a woman. I continue taking steadying breaths, while Jorgen keeps his hand on my back. It’s distracting and I need a minute to pull myself back together.

  “We don’t want to harm you,” Jorgen says, lifting his hand like he’s trying to use his magic, but soon realises he can’t anymore and drops his arm. She releases Jetli from her spell, giggling away when the Pixies hide behind me, scared. Lenin isn’t so brave anymore either.

  The Warlock woman walks around, staring at me intensely, licking her lips.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, too many mages and shifters know I’m here,” she responds. “But I have to say, it’s been a treat seeing you here, Wyvern creature. I thought the other warlocks and mages wiped your clan out of the Eastern World.”

  “No it isn’t true, I’m not the only one. Our clan is strong,” I tell her, massaging my painful throat.

  “It’s such a nasty scar and it’s been created with your own magic. I would love to hear your story before I leave,” she continues, smiling and walking around me as if she’s fascinated by the fact I’m still alive and well. Nausea rolls through my stomach and I keep breathing in and out, trying to bring my magic back. I don’t want her to say anything else in front of Jorgen.

  “We’re here because of me. I’m the one who needs your help,” Jorgen says, with anger in his voice. The Warlock woman ignores him, sighs loudly, and then waves her hand.

  “I don’t help humans like you for nothing, there’s always a price you have to pay,” she hisses as she approaches Jorgen. “Tell me what it is you’re seeking, handsome? And I’ll see if I can make an exception for you.”

  He swallows hard, staring at her with determination in his eyes. I’m not surprised that he’s willing to taste black magic in order to get his dragon back.

  “I’ve been through the “cutting of the mage” ritual. A shifter ripped my inner creature from me. I need your help to get it back,” he says, and his dark, fake eyes shimmer with resilience and hope.

  The Warlock narrows her eyes and glances at me again.

  “You were a mage?” she asks, looking surprised and smiling. Strange, she said he was a broken mage a few moments ago. What sort of game is she playing?

  “Yes, a mage shifter, and now I’m no one–my beast is gone. There must be a way for me to reverse the ritual,” he says, sounding hopeful.

  The Warlock clicks her fingers and starts laughing. At the same moment, the entire mill begins to shake, and the floor beneath my feet starts to slip. I try to hold on to the wall, but the warlock’s feeding off my energy–my destructive fire magic that’s been dormant inside me for eleven years. Then everything becomes still once again.

  “Let me speak to the girl alone and I may be able to get your dragon back, Duke of Rivenna,” she says and I part my lips wondering how she recognised Jorgen under a glamour. Jetli’s magic is strong, but I suspect this warlock is very old. Her
glamour’s extraordinary–nothing I’ve ever come across before.

  Jorgen looks at me and I shake my head slightly, telling him I’m going to be all right. The Warlock won’t kill me yet. I’m too valuable to her.

  “I’m the one who requires help. Astri’s my assistant,” he protests, and I walk up to him and say:

  “It’s fine, I’m going to be fine.”

  Jetli’s shaking her head and Lenin’s trying to pull my hair. I don’t even know why I’m doing this, walking away with a Warlock. The creature’s power fascinates me and I want to find out what she wants from me.

  Then the Warlock does something strange, she raises her hands up in the air and the wall behind her starts vibrating, turning into some kind of magical passage. The bright light blinds us all, and I close my eyes when they start to burn.

  Seconds roll in, then someone grabs my hands and I’m pulled forward. My inner beast roars as I try to shift. Everything happens so fast and my head starts spinning. Then the whole world around me goes dark.

  Chapter 9

  The offer.

  A strong gust of something burning stirs me back to a conscious state and I lift myself off the dusty ground, coughing and spewing bits of dust that must have gotten into my lungs. My eyes are slowly getting used to the darkness surrounding me. Finally, I recognise the shapes of trees in the distance and hear insects buzzing around. The Warlock couldn’t just transport me away from the mill–no creature in the entire Eastern World has such power.

  “Get up Wyvern, we haven’t got much time. I can’t afford to be traced back by others. I’ve used extensive magic for us to be alone,” a voice barks at me, and I hear footsteps a few meters away from me. I rub dust from my eyes, seeing the Warlock in the moonlight. Her face is somehow damaged, like she’d been badly burned. She isn’t the beautiful woman anymore. Her hair’s greasy and clothes are filthy.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask, taking a step away from her, but she grabs my hand and pulls me to her. A wide smile spreads across her ugly face. She smells of ash and fire.

  “You’ve been very naughty, dear girl. Not the Wyvern I expected you to be,” she points out, releasing me, then smoothing her long, dirty hair. “The duke’s desperate and he has no idea you could’ve saved him that night.”

  I stare at her with disbelief–anger begins rushing through my veins. She couldn’t have discovered my secret. No one apart from Jorgen and bunch of wild shifters were in the mountains that night. Sebastian and Elijah couldn’t have told her anything, they’re both still incapacitated.

  I part my lips to tell her she’s wrong, but no sound comes out of my mouth. I’m ready to deny anything, but for some reason she’s able to read my deepest secrets. She recognised Jorgen as the duke through Jetli’s glamour, so she must be truly old and even more powerful than I suspected.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is this place? Why are we here?” I question her, convinced we’re at the edge of the Black Forest.

  Pain shoots down over my shoulder and I hiss, breathing hard watching her stare at me with her large, green eyes. Her irises shimmer in the darkness, and her power pounds through me, overwhelming my inner dragon. I have no idea what’s happening to Jorgen or my Pixies. For all I know, I might never make it back to Rivenna. This might be limbo or another world filled with shadows of death, the one Jared often spoke of.

  There’s a possibility the Warlock could’ve taken me all the way to Samara or even further towards the Asian part of the Eastern World.

  “Don’t lie, little dragon girl. I went deep into your mind and saw everything. You believed the mage gave you this scar and killed your relatives, so you taught him a cruel lesson. It was a clever idea, and I’m impressed. Maybe I won’t kill you and take away your magic as I’d planned,” she adds and runs her manicured fingernails down her deformed face. I swallow hard, while my heart jackhammers in my chest.

  She’s truly powerful, but I don’t need to tell her anything. My old inner fire spell rises inside me. It’s like a breath of fresh air and I nearly gasp sensing it again. It’s impossible, this magic’s been shut down inside me since the power turned against me eleven years ago. The energy rises over the surface of my skin and my fingertips tingle. I’ve been too afraid to even think about my destructive fire magic since I woke up. It used to bring death and destruction, and when my magic blew back, scarring me, the most powerful fire inside me was locked, now I’m feeling it again.

  “No, you can’t see the real me, I would have neve–”

  “Stop lying to me, dragon girl or I’ll punish you. My inner eye never lies and I’ve seen where you stood, hiding between the trees and not acting when the leader of the wild shifters performed the cutting of the mage ritual on your duke. I channel the bitter anger you feel towards him but I’m confused. Why are you helping him now? We both know I can bring his dragon back, but the price is high … too high. He’ll never agree to my terms,” she continues and I clench my fists, wanting to forget about that day.

  Then she’s beside me, clenching her sharp nails around my throat so painfully I gag, unable to use my magic. My fire magic is shut down again. My vision goes blurry and the pain inside my head is unbearable. I want to reach out for my knife, but my limbs refuse to obey me, and I’m falling slowly into the dark oblivion.

  “Admit to your lie or I’ll twist your neck and there won’t be any more Wyverns in the Eastern World. You’ll be dead. I have nothing to lose,” she hisses, and I’m drifting away slowly. Invisible fumes of smoke are making their way into my lungs and mouth. Where’s it coming from? None of this is real, it’s just another illusion and I must fight through it. I nod silently, defeated.

  She lets go of me and I fall to the ground. For a moment, I just lie there, lifeless until the pain goes away. Sweat surges down my face and I take long pulls of air until my chest stops burning. My inner fire magic is back, and feeding me with strength. It’s been dormant for so long and now the Warlock has somehow awakened it. Unbelievable.

  I lift myself back to my feet and look at her, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

  “Fine, I stood in the forest and did nothing to help him. My vision showed me he was the mage who tried to end me, and brutally murdered my parents. I was forced to live with relatives who never wanted me–who treated me like dirt. He paid the price, but now I have no idea what to believe anymore. Maybe I was wrong, so I have to keep up this silly act–keep pretending I’m on his side!” I shout, not able to control my rage any longer. The Warlock stares at me with satisfaction in her eyes and then giggles to herself.

  “Well, see dragon girl, that wasn’t so bad. However, I sense you’re not entirely against the duke as you were in the past–you have strong feelings for him now. It isn’t an act, but no matter. I’m impressed and it takes a lot to impress someone like me,” she says. “Maybe I’m making a mistake and others might punish me for what I’m about to say, but screw them. I want you to join me, Wyvern shifter. I want you to travel with me, you have so much potential.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say, having no idea what she’s truly proposing. I want her to take me back to the old mild–back to my Pixies and Jorgen.

  “Silly girl, of course you understand. You’re going to waste your inner talent if you stay with the pathetic duke. Stick with me and I’ll teach you everything that you ever dreamed of and more. Others might not accept it at first, but a Wyvern creature as powerful as you cannot be on her own,” she continues.

  The Warlock is serious, she’s proposing to teach me and I know if I go with her I never have to look back.

  She only just awakened my inner fire magic, so Hommis knows what else she can do, but I have to think about Jorgen too. Lenin and Jetli would never forgive me if I left.

  “Can you help Jorgen?” I ask, trying to be reasonable, but her offer is awfully tempting.

  “Yes, I can reverse old Bratlav’s ritual, but the price is high. If you leave with me you wouldn’t ha
ve to worry about him,” she states.

  “I’m not ready to leave Rivenna, my ties are with the city and I must untangle my past first. There must be something else you want from me or from him,” I say and she shakes her head.

  “Too bad. You would’ve been a great apprentice,” she says. “But you’re young and inexperienced. One day you’ll look back and realise that you could’ve been the greatest Wyvern in the Eastern World.”

  Then she grabs both of my wrists again and pain explodes inside my skull. I scream with agony, seeing the faces of my parents for the first time since my failed spell in the old mill. Memories begin flashing before my eyes.

  Seconds later, she creates another magical portal and drags me through it. The flashbacks are gone and all too suddenly, I slam back onto the wooden floor in the old mill, hitting my elbow. The giant pot filled with black-tinted water still stands in the middle of the room. The Warlock’s back in her illusion of being a young and beautiful woman.

  “Astri, are you all right? Where did she take you?” Jorgen asks, kneeling next to me. The Pixies are flying above me, and I nod silently. My head’s spinning, but I’ll be fine. The Warlock hasn’t killed me yet.

  “I could’ve twisted her neck, but then I thought better of it. The dragon girl gave me her blood oath instead,” the Warlock replies.

  Lenin and Jetli gasp, staring at me petrified.

  “No, hold on. I don’t know what she’s talking about. I didn’t give her any blood oath.”

  “You did when you asked me to help the duke,” the Warlock giggles and I stand up furious.

  “You tricked me, you didn’t even say what you wanted in return,” I snap, ready to treat her with some fire magic, but Jorgen still needs her help. The Pixies are terrified. I have no idea what a blood oath means, but judging from their expression it’s nothing good.

  “Astri, you didn’t have to make any agreement with her. Now you owe her a favour and–”

  “Yes, the favour can be anything and I can claim it at any time,” the Warlock says. “But this is only one part of the deal. If you want your dragon back you must kiss the girl.”