[Dragon's Gift 01.0 - 05.0] Complete Series

by Linsey Hall

  I left them lying on the cobblestones and ran, following the pull of my dragon sense. My deirfiúr and I used this gift to find treasure for our shop, Ancient Magic. Now, I used it to find what I valued most.

  Escape.

  It pulled me toward the castle, of course. Into the lion’s den.

  The building loomed ahead, a massive, hulking structure that threatened with its very presence. I sprinted up the expansive stone stairs and pulled on the heavy wooden door.

  To my relief, it opened easily. I darted inside, careful to keep myself against the wall. The foyer was grand, a massive space done in rich woods and silk wall hangings.

  I reached for my dragon sense, letting it direct me toward my goal. I followed it, skirting around the edge of the foyer to the other side of the massive room, careful to keep my ears alert for the sound of approaching footsteps.

  Where was the Warden now? Had the demon found him already?

  Windows glinted on the other side of the hall, beckoning me.

  Outside, an oasis of a garden spread as far as I could see. Roses and other flowers bloomed in riotous color amongst the lush green, so different than the hellscape at the front of the house.

  My dragon sense beckoned me toward the garden. The portal lay within.

  A single wooden door caught my eye, and I raced to it, darting out into the garden. The air was cooler here, a delightful contrast to the fiery nightmare that I’d just left on the other side of the castle. The scent of flowers and recent rain permeated the place.

  Did this Underworld have two sides—good and bad?—or was the Warden also a gardener? If it had two sides, why did I end up on the hell side? I wasn’t a bad person.

  Right?

  I dragged my mind from the stupid questions and sprinted across the grass, losing myself in the hedges as I sought the portal. My time had to be running short. The Warden would see the fallen bodies of the demons any moment and know that I was gone.

  Rose thorns scratched my arms as I raced by. I winced and kept going, my heart thundering in my ears. I came across a small blue pond. Black swans floated across the surface, their beady gaze clinging to me.

  “Nice birdies,” I cooed, eying them warily.

  Swans could be bitches. Mean birds, those.

  I skirted around the pond, following my dragon sense. Fortunately, the swans didn’t pay any attention to me.

  When I reached the other side, the pale green glow of a portal nearly made me weep with relief. I raced for it, not hesitating at the entrance.

  I flung myself inside.

  And bounced off, landing hard on my butt, the grass wet beneath me.

  Pain sang through my face and chest where I’d slammed into the portal. I clasped my hand to my nose, hoping I hadn’t broken it.

  “Dang it,” I muttered as I climbed to my feet.

  It was locked. I scowled at the shimmering green air that marked the portal, trying to figure out why the heck I couldn’t get through. Most portals just let you through, unless something was wrong with them. I’d seen a broken portal before, and it had caused some serious problems.

  “Oh, you idiot,” I muttered. Of course there was something wrong with this portal.

  It led to hell. And out of hell. No way it’d be constantly open like a normal one. Demons would be flooding through to Earth all the time, which was totally not allowed. Most of them looked like such scary freaking monsters that they’d alert humans to the presence of supernaturals. No one wanted that.

  Which actually made me feel better. If this portal was locked, it probably went to Earth. That was exactly where I wanted to go. Heading to another Underworld would do me no favors. I didn’t know much about them—no Earth supernatural did—but I knew I didn’t want to be in one of them.

  So I just had to figure out how to get through this one.

  The portal glowed a shimmering green, dense and impenetrable. But it was the edges that caught my eye. They looked almost like seams, glowing a slightly brighter green.

  I reached out and tried to stick my fingers through the seam. They hit a hard surface and stopped dead, glowing slightly green in the light of the portal.

  Damn.

  I glared at the portal, my mind racing. The green glow was a bit like the blue glow of my Phantom form. I glanced behind me, making sure no one was watching.

  Idiot.

  No one would be just watching me. Attacking me, maybe. But not just watching.

  Still, it felt like there were eyes on me. Probably just paranoia.

  I called upon my power, embracing my Phantom form and letting the shivery magic flow through me. It took longer to catch on because of my injuries, but it worked. The magic chilled my skin, turning me blue and transparent.

  When I was fully transformed, I reached out again. This time, my fingertips sunk through, tingling where they touched the portal.

  Jackpot.

  I grinned as I gripped the edge of the portal like a blanket, and tugged. It resisted at first, but I yanked harder, giving it everything I had.

  The portal tore away, peeling back to reveal a woodland scene in a place that was definitely not the Underworld.

  I grinned, then knocked on my head for good luck, hoping that wherever I was going was close to home. As I climbed through, my heart panged to leave my sword behind, but I was getting out of here, and that was all that mattered.

  As I stepped into the woods on the other side, I couldn’t help but shudder as the demon’s dying words echoed in my mind.

  He’ll come for you.

  ~~~

  Click here to get Magic Undying and find out what happens to Del.

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  Author’s Notes & Acknowledgements

  Ancient Magic Author’s Note

  Hey, there! I hope you enjoyed reading Ancient Magic as much as I enjoyed writing it. In addition to being a writer, I’m also an archaeologist. As a kid, I loved history (because of the fantasy and historic romance novels I read), Indiana Jones, and Laura Croft. When I started writing novels, it was only a matter of time before I applied my love of archaeology and history to my stories.

  Hence, Dragon’s Gift was born. However, I knew I had a careful line to tread when writing these books. As I’m sure you know, archaeology isn’t quite like Indiana Jones (for which I’m both grateful and bitterly disappointed). Sure, it’s exciting and full of travel. However, booby-traps are not as common as I expected. Total number of booby-traps I have encountered in my career: zero. Still hoping, though.

  When I talk about treading a line with these books, I mean the line between archaeology and treasure hunting. There is a big difference between these two activities. As much as I value artifacts, they are not treasure. Not even the gold artifacts. They are pieces of our history that contain valuable information, and as such, they belong to all of us. Every artifact that is excavated should be properly conserved and stored in a museum so that everyone can have access to our history. No one single person can own history, and I believe very strongly that individuals should not own artifacts. Treasure hunting is the pursuit of artifacts for personal gain.

  So why did I make Cass Cleraux a treasure hunter? I’d have loved to call her an archaeologist, but nothing about Cass’s work is like archaeology. Archaeology is a very laborious, painstaking process—and it certainly doesn’t involve selling artifacts. That wouldn’t work for the fast paced, adventurous series that I had planned for Dragon’s Gift. Not to mention the fact that dragons are famous for coveting treasure. Considering where Cass got her skills from, it just made sense to call her a treasure hunter. Even though I write urban fantasy, I strive for accuracy. Cass doesn’t engage in archaeological practices—therefore, I cannot call her an archaeologist. I also have a duty as an archaeologist to properly represent my field and our goals—namely, to protect and share history. Treasure hunting doesn’t do this. One of the biggest battles that archaeolog
y faces today is protecting cultural heritage from thieves.

  I debated long and hard about not only what to call Cass, but also about how she would do her job. I wanted it to involve all the cool things we think about when we think about archaeology—namely, the Indiana Jones stuff, whether it’s real or not. But I didn’t know quite how to do that while still staying within the bounds of my own ethics. I can cut myself and other writers some slack because this is fiction, but I couldn’t go too far into smash and grab treasure hunting.

  I consulted some of my archaeology colleagues to get their take, which was immensely helpful. Wayne Lusardi, the State Maritime Archaeologist for Michigan, and Douglas Inglis and Veronica Morris, both archaeologists for Interactive Heritage, were immensely helpful with ideas. My biggest problem was figuring out how to have Cass steal artifacts from tombs and then sell them and still sleep at night. Everything I’ve just said is pretty counter to this, right?

  That’s where the magic comes in. Cass isn’t after the artifacts themselves (she puts them back where she found them, if you recall)—she’s after the magic that the artifacts contain. She’s more of a magic hunter than a treasure hunter. That solved a big part of my problem. At least she was putting the artifacts back. Though that’s not proper archaeology (especially the damage she caused to the first tomb), I could let it pass. At least it’s clear that she believes she shouldn’t keep the artifact or harm the site. But the SuperNerd in me said, “Well, that magic is part of the artifact’s context. It’s important to the artifact and shouldn’t be removed and sold.”

  Now that was a problem. I couldn’t escape my SuperNerd self, so I was in a real conundrum. Fortunately, that’s where the immensely intelligent Wayne Lusardi came in. He suggested that the magic could have an expiration date. If the magic wasn’t used before it decayed, it could cause huge problems. Think explosions and tornado spells run amok. It could ruin the entire site, not to mention possibly cause injury and death. That would be very bad.

  So now you see why Cass Clereaux didn’t just steal artifacts to sell them. Not only is selling the magic cooler, it’s also better from an ethical standpoint, especially if the magic was going to cause problems in the long run. These aren’t perfect solutions—the perfect solution would be sending in a team of archaeologists to carefully record the site and remove the dangerous magic—but that wouldn’t be a very fun book. Hopefully this was a good compromise that you enjoyed (and that my old professors don’t hang their heads over).

  As with my other books, I like to include real historical sites in my novels. In Ancient Magic, there were a few places of note. The first was the monks’ island in Ireland. That is a real place called the Skellig Michael, part of the Skellig islands off the coast of southwestern Ireland. It’s an amazing place and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The beehive shaped buildings that I described were inhabited by real monks from the end of the first millennium onward.

  The other historic site that I included is on the cover of the book. It is Holyrood Abbey in Edinburgh, Scotland. The final battle site on the hidden island is modeled after the abbey. Edinburgh is just too heavily populated to have an epic final battle without humans noticing, so I moved it to a hidden location :-)

  I hope you enjoyed the story and will stick with Cass on the rest of her adventure!

  Ancient Magic Acknowledgments

  The Dragon’s Gift series is a product of my two lives: one as an archaeologist and one as a novelist. Combining these two took a bit of work. I’d like to thank my friends, Wayne Lusardi, the State Maritime Archaeologist for Michigan, and Douglas Inglis and Veronica Morris, both archaeologists for Interactive Heritage, for their ideas about how to have a treasure hunter heroine that doesn’t conflict too much with archaeology’s ethics. The Author’s Note contains a bit more about this if you are interested

  Thank you, Ben, for everything you’ve done to support me in this career. Thank you to my dear friend Emily Keane for reading every story I’ve written and for sharing your great ideas. As always, your comments were amazing. Thank you to Carol Thomas for sharing your thoughts on the book and being amazing inspiration.

  Thank you to Jena O’Connor and Lindsey Loucks for various forms of editing. The book is immensely better because of you! And thank you to Rebecca Frank for the beautiful cover. You really bring Cass to life.

  Mirror Mage Author’s Note

  Hey, there! I hope you enjoyed reading Mirror Mage as much as I enjoyed writing it. The Dragon’s Gift series has really become a labor of love for me because I am also an archaeologist. This series allows me to combine my two loves—writing and history—which has been massively fun.

  As with my other books, I included historical sites in Mirror Mage. The most important historical site in Mirror Mage is the ruined city that is the setting for the final battle. This took place at the ruins of Ephesus, the ancient Greek and Roman city in Turkey. The statue of Hercules, the ampitheatre, the library, the brothel, and even the sign pointing to the brothel are all real. You can even visit! I haven’t had the pleasure myself, but a colleague of mine, Dr. Ayse Devrim Atauz, helped me understand the layout and feel of the city. Any errors are my own (or were made to improve the story, like moving the amphitheater slightly).

  But one of the most important things about the Dragon’s Gift series is Cass’s relationship with the artifacts and the sense of responsibility she feels to protect them. I spoke about this in the Author’s Note for Ancient Magic, so this might be repetitive for some folks (feel free to quit now if so), but I want to include it in each of my Author’s Notes because it’s so important to me.

  I knew I had a careful line to tread when writing these books—combining the ethics of archaeology with the fantasy aspect of treasure hunting isn’t always easy.

  There is a big difference between these two activities. As much as I value artifacts, they are not treasure. Not even the gold artifacts. They are pieces of our history that contain valuable information, and as such, they belong to all of us. Every artifact that is excavated should be properly conserved and stored in a museum so that everyone can have access to our history. No one single person can own history, and I believe very strongly that individuals should not own artifacts. Treasure hunting is the pursuit of artifacts for personal gain.

  So why did I make Cass Cleraux a treasure hunter? I’d have loved to call her an archaeologist, but nothing about Cass’s work is like archaeology. Archaeology is a very laborious, painstaking process—and it certainly doesn’t involve selling artifacts. That wouldn’t work for the fast paced, adventurous series that I had planned for Dragon’s Gift. Not to mention the fact that dragons are famous for coveting treasure. Considering where Cass got her skills from, it just made sense to call her a treasure hunter (though I really like to think of her as a magic hunter). Even though I write urban fantasy, I strive for accuracy. Cass doesn’t engage in archaeological practices—therefore, I cannot call her an archaeologist. I also have a duty as an archaeologist to properly represent my field and our goals—namely, to protect and share history. Treasure hunting doesn’t do this. One of the biggest battles that archaeology faces today is protecting cultural heritage from thieves.

  I debated long and hard about not only what to call Cass, but also about how she would do her job. I wanted it to involve all the cool things we think about when we think about archaeology—namely, the Indiana Jones stuff, whether it’s real or not. Because that stuff is fun, and my main goal is to write a fun book. But I didn’t know quite how to do that while still staying within the bounds of my own ethics. I can cut myself and other writers some slack because this is fiction, but I couldn’t go too far into smash and grab treasure hunting.

  I consulted some of my archaeology colleagues to get their take, which was immensely helpful. Wayne Lusardi, the State Maritime Archaeologist for Michigan, and Douglas Inglis and Veronica Morris, both archaeologists for Interactive Heritage, were immensely helpful with ideas. My biggest problem was figuring out ho
w to have Cass steal artifacts from tombs and then sell them and still sleep at night. Everything I’ve just said is pretty counter to this, right?

  That’s where the magic comes in. Cass isn’t after the artifacts themselves (she puts them back where she found them, if you recall)—she’s after the magic that the artifacts contain. She’s more of a magic hunter than a treasure hunter. That solved a big part of my problem. At least she was putting the artifacts back. Though that’s not proper archaeology (especially the damage she sometimes causes, which she always goes back to fix), I could let it pass. At least it’s clear that she believes she shouldn’t keep the artifact or harm the site. But the SuperNerd in me said, “Well, that magic is part of the artifact’s context. It’s important to the artifact and shouldn’t be removed and sold.”

  Now that was a problem. I couldn’t escape my SuperNerd self, so I was in a real conundrum. Fortunately, that’s where the immensely intelligent Wayne Lusardi came in. He suggested that the magic could have an expiration date. If the magic wasn’t used before it decayed, it could cause huge problems. Think explosions and tornado spells run amok. It could ruin the entire site, not to mention possibly cause injury and death. That would be very bad.

  So now you see why Cass Clereaux didn’t just steal artifacts to sell them. Not only is selling the magic cooler, it’s also better from an ethical standpoint, especially if the magic was going to cause problems in the long run. These aren’t perfect solutions—the perfect solution would be sending in a team of archaeologists to carefully record the site and remove the dangerous magic—but that wouldn’t be a very fun book. Hopefully this was a good compromise that you enjoyed (and that my old professors don’t hang their heads over).

  Mirror Mage Acknowledgments