Wicked Wish (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 1)

by Veronica Douglas

  Great. We were expected, then.

  As we drew close, the billowing clouds filled the expanse of the sky. The outer edges roiled as wind currents stirred the air, creating new white puffs of fog. Every few minutes, dull flashes of lighting burst within the massive gray storm wall.

  My pulse quickened. “We really need to go in there?”

  “That’s where Rhiannon is. And the djinn. It’s going to be hard to see in there. Stay close and watch out for updrafts. There might be some turbulence.”

  “Turbulence?” We’d flown through smaller cumulus clouds in the past, and I’d never had any issues.

  “A lot of it.”

  I swallowed. Turbulence was the worst part of flying internationally. Now, instead of being trapped in a nice, safe, flying tuna can, I was going to be completely exposed to the raging elements—and I didn’t have so much as a seatbelt.

  We broke through the wall of clouds. The gray mist choked out the light, and it soon became hard to see. The air was dense and wet, highly unstable. Gusts of wind surged around me. Suddenly, I dropped a few feet, my stomach lurching. It took every ounce of will I had not to cry out.

  Breathe. Just fly.

  The wind buffeted my clothes as we pushed forward, and my stomach whirled every time I dropped. The nagging voice in the back of my head reminded me that this was why airplanes didn’t fly into thunderheads.

  A column of air shot us upward several hundred feet, knocking the breath from my lungs. Seconds later, a downdraft sent me spiraling out of control, and I screamed.

  Damian soared down beside me and clasped my hand. “You can do this!”

  No, I can’t.

  I closed my eyes. Frustration surged through my veins, and I pulled my hand away. I should be able to master this, I told myself. I am like the wind. This is my domain.

  I lashed out and fought the wind with all my strength, bending downdrafts and updrafts away from us, creating a slightly smoother pocket of air. The thunderhead still rumbled around us, and invisible currents still shook my body, but we kept pushing ahead.

  My breath was heaving by the time we burst through the clouds and into clear sky.

  Like a hurricane, the storm was hollow, creating a formidable barrier around the small island that floated in its center. It was much larger than the islet I remembered. Waterfalls spilled over the island’s edges, pouring into the sky. Gusts of wind shot spray into the air, and tiny rainbows glinted where the sunlight shone through the clouds above.

  I wouldn’t have believed this was Aileth Islet, except the djinn’s palace still lay at the heart of the island, shrouded with fog. Had the palace grown larger as well? I could barely make out the cloud-colored towers.

  I swooped in close to Damian. “Where is Rhiannon?”

  “In there.” Damian pointed toward the palace. Lighting struck, and patches of fog began to part as if the storm itself were acknowledging our arrival.

  I gasped.

  The sprawling palace had not only grown, but now it was surrounded by a strangely patterned garden. Twisting vines and hedges curved around the main building, protecting it. Barring it.

  A maze. And everything was so much bigger. “Where did all this come from?”

  “The djinn’s power is growing,” said Damian. “And so is his dominion.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Why put a maze around a palace in the Realm of Air? It seems that everybody here can fly.”

  “Look at the way the light shimmers over the palace and the maze. There’s some kind of magical dome—I think the djinn has been planning ahead since our last visit. The only way in now is through the garden.”

  The fog continued to clear, almost inviting us forward. The maze bridged the vast lake of water that spilled over the island’s edges and led right up to the palace’s front door.

  I groaned. “I hate mazes. Why did it have to be a maze?”

  “In a world where everyone flies, make your enemies walk.”

  My throat tightened. “How the heck are we going find our way through? Do you think there’s a back door we could fly to?”

  Damian pointed to the glowing clouds in the distance. “It’s too dangerous to fly through the lighting storm above the palace. We also can’t risk getting spotted by the guards.”

  “Well, I hope you’re good at puzzles, because I’m the worst.”

  Damian pulled something out of his backpack. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve solved most of our problems quite well.”

  “Problems, maybe—mazes, no. Ask me to tell you about the corn maze at the Illinois State Fair when we’re not so busy.”

  He held up a silver square case. “Well, lucky for you, I have a magic compass.”

  My eyebrows shot up, and a little spark of hope flickered in my chest. “You mean that can navigate us through…” I turned and motioned at the maze. “That?”

  “Theoretically. I haven’t tested it before. Bought it from an art dealer in Sicily.”

  “Let’s try it, then.” I looked back at the maze and spotted hawk-faced guards patrolling the air above the island. “Damn. It’ll be hard to get in.”

  Several of the guards arced in our direction, monitoring the outer circuit of the thundercloud barrier. Though they were birdlike, there was something unnervingly human about them—probably the fact that they were five feet tall and wore leather breastplates and red tunics.

  Damian and I ducked into the thunderhead for cover. We were just a few feet inside when the patrol darted by, barely visible as shadows against the mist.

  My shoulders relaxed. “They didn’t see us.”

  We let a few minutes pass before emerging again into the light.

  I racked my brain for another route. “Are you sure I can’t planes-walk us in? I can remember what some of the rooms look like.”

  Damian’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think it would be possible. Do you feel the magic sparking in the air?”

  I nodded, feeling it prickle against my skin.

  “That’s a protection spell. The dome probably wards against teleportation and flight. Many magical places have similar defenses, though this is quite large. We’re going to have to go through the maze.”

  Well, shit.

  22

  We darted down toward the maze, ducking in and out of the clouds to avoid being spotted by the flying patrols. Dozens of hawk-headed guards circled the perimeter of the storm, but the island was so large that they often remained specks in the distance.

  We shot for a wide bank of fog tumbling off the edge of the isle, then landed silently on damp moss of all shades of green. Strange budding plants shrank away as we picked our way toward the maze’s entrance, just inside the magical dome.

  Just to be sure, I tried levitating. And it worked. I was hovering several feet off the ground. “Damian! Maybe we can fly in here after all.”

  I flew upward to see if I could get a view over the mist and the top of the maze, when I slammed into an invisible barrier that zapped my skin. Electricity shot through me and I dropped.

  Damian caught me before I landed. I gazed up at him as my vision cleared. His jaw was set, and worry flashed across his face. “Are you alright?”

  He set me down, and I wasn’t sure if it was the electric shock or Damian’s magic that had my skin tingling. “Yeah. Just got a little jolt of energy. I’m fine.”

  “Strange.” Damian looked up. “It doesn’t seem to be an anti-flight spell.”

  “No. Just a don’t-fly-above-ten-feet spell.” I glared up at the invisible barrier—stupid magic dome—and resigned myself to walking.

  As we progressed, the mist dissipated, revealing a cobblestone path that wound its way into the verdant labyrinth ahead. Two giant, perfectly trimmed hedge creatures flanked the entry. One was a vulture-like bird with outstretched wings and an open beak. Opposite it was a giant griffin, rearing back on its hind quarters, its mouth agape in a silent shriek.

  I grabbed Damian’s arm. “What�
��s the chance that these are just hedge sculptures?”

  “Slim to none. Feel the magic on the air?”

  I nodded, not liking the prickling sensation, and pulled my khanjar from its sheath. Its reverberating ring was always reassuring, reminding me that I was in control. “Well, I hope you brought garden shears. These hedges need a trim.”

  Damian summoned his blade. “Lead the way, Livingstone.”

  When he wasn’t being dark and mysterious, Damian actually had a sense of humor. As we inched forward toward the gate, weapons bared, I wondered what else he was hiding under that lethal façade.

  The massive hedge sculptures loomed over us, motionless, patiently waiting to strike. We moved back to back as we passed between them…and then we were through.

  The sculptures hadn’t moved an inch.

  Damian frowned, shifting his sword to his off hand, and summoned a smoking black dagger from the ether. He hurled it at the hedge vulture, and it sank into the leaves. No response.

  He turned in a slow circle, warily searching the area around us. “That protective magic is coming from somewhere.”

  I searched but could see nothing out of the ordinary. An unknown threat, just waiting to strike.

  Great. Let the mind games begin.

  As we passed through the gateway, a thick fog rolled in, obscuring the path ahead. Fortunately, it concealed us from the eyes above.

  Unfortunately, it made us vulnerable to ambush.

  The cobblestone path was damp, devoid of the mossy growth that covered the rest of the island’s surface. Hedges towered fifteen feet tall on either side of us, draped in thick vines that sprouted large red flowers. They were beautiful but grim. Five thick petals cradled a ring of teeth-like stamens. As we passed by, the flowers shifted forward, and the petals opened wide, releasing a putrid rotten odor.

  I scrunched my nose. “Ugh. Do you smell that?”

  “Be careful, they’re—”

  Before he could finish, one of the flowers shot toward me. Damian lunged, smacking the flower and pulling me out of the way. In the scuffle, the compass flew out of his hand. The flower caught it, chomped it once, then spat it out. Quickly, he sliced off the flower as it shot toward us again.

  Panting, I gripped Damian’s arm, my senses on high alert as I searched the other flowers for signs of attack. “Holy crap. What was that?”

  “Death lily.” Damian looked me over for a bite, then stepped back. “One with an unusually long stem.”

  “It’s carnivorous, isn’t it?”

  “They’ll take off a finger if you give them the chance.”

  “Like Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors?” I stopped short, recalling the plant that ate people. The rancid stink of the air suddenly made me nauseous, and I swallowed sharply.

  Damian stared at me blankly. “I haven’t been to that store. Is it in Magic Side?”

  I blinked several times. Seriously?

  He grabbed the compass off the ground, and shook it. “It’s broken. They’re strong bastards.”

  “Let’s see what’s ahead, then.” I walked onward, warily watching for death lilies with extra-long stems.

  A short while later, the path ended.

  “Dead end,” said Damian.

  “Did we miss a turn?” I didn’t recall seeing one, but maybe I had been so focused on the flesh-eating plants that I’d completely overlooked it.

  I turned. A wall of fog rolled toward us, blocking the path we’d just come along. I raised my hand and issued a steady, light breeze. It was easy to use my magic here, not like in Cappadocia. I shuddered. Maybe this was better than giant spiders.

  The fog rolled back, and a gap appeared in a section of hedge we’d just passed. “Bingo.”

  Damian slashed through vines and flowers that reached too close as we pushed along the winding path.

  I dodged a biting flower. “This isn’t so bad.”

  “You say that. Just wait till one of those nips you.”

  Then the fog parted, and another dead end blocked our path. I kicked myself for speaking too soon. “What the heck? I’m sure we didn’t pass an opening.”

  “We didn’t.”

  I looked behind us, spotting the hedge as it shifted ever so slightly. “Did you see that?”

  Damian looked puzzled. “See what?”

  “The hedge…it moved.” I pointed to a gap that appeared. “See! This was—”

  Vines reached out, wrapping around my limbs and yanking me into a hole in the hedge.

  Damian shot forward, but the bushes closed in around me, squeezing and scratching my body. I screamed, and the mass of branches constricted, crushing my chest and driving the air from my lungs. They pulled me backward, deeper and deeper into the thick hedge.

  Heart racing, I released a surge of energy from my hands. It ripped through the branches, leaving two empty cavities.

  Whoa.

  Vines hurled me through the air, expelling me onto the cold stone pavement with a painful thud. My khanjar clattered across the ground.

  Apparently, the hedge didn’t like me blasting it apart. “What did you expect?” I snapped at the hedge.

  It didn’t respond, of course, but I was too pissed to be embarrassed about talking to a plant.

  Elbows and tailbone aching, I climbed to my feet. The hole where the hedge had spit me out was slowly reshaping, knitting itself together.

  “Damian?” I rushed toward the hole and peered in.

  A hollow growl reverberated through the hedge, and the hole closed fully.

  Oh, fates. This was bad.

  I reached for my dagger and scanned my surroundings. The path opened in two directions. I chose the option on my left, following my gut.

  I rounded a corner and—holy shit!

  Wrong choice.

  Up ahead, a giant stone creature stood in the middle of the cobbled path like a massive statue…except it was alive and mobile. It crouched, its back facing me, apparently eating something. The creature was probably a gargoyle, but I wasn’t going to get close enough to check.

  Suddenly, its long, gray ears twitched toward me, and the sound of chewing stopped.

  Oh, crappity crap.

  I froze and held my breath, desperately trying to slow my pounding heart. Gargoyles had excellent hearing, and it would be only a matter of seconds before it sensed me. Sure, I could fight it, but as I’d learned the hard way, where there’s one monster, there’s usually more.

  Slowly, I stepped backward, retracing my steps toward the corner. If I could just get out of sight, maybe it wouldn’t notice me.

  A piercing screech echoed from up ahead, on the other side of the gargoyle.

  Aaand there it was. The gargoyle had a buddy. The creature shot to its feet and bounded down the path toward the cry, and I gave a brief thanks that it wasn’t after me.

  I ducked around the corner and sprinted in the direction I’d come. Once I was certain I’d put enough distance between myself and the gargoyle, I slowed. Had I already been down this way before? It looked the same, but I was suddenly disoriented.

  I freaking hated mazes.

  I pushed onward, letting my gut guide me. Where was Damian? How much time had passed since we’d been separated? Hours? Minutes? Was my sense of time as warped as my sense of direction? I wanted to shout for him, but I wasn’t going to risk alerting the gargoyles or something worse.

  I paused at each corner, peeking around to make sure I didn’t bump into any unexpected creatures. But there were none.

  Another junction appeared out of the fog ahead. I walked and walked but had no way to gauge my progress. Everything looked the same. Was I going in circles?

  Then I hit a dead end.

  A dense fog bank floated several feet above me, obscuring the top of the maze. Could I fly up enough to get a hint about where to go next?

  I recalled the electric shock I’d gotten the last time I tried this, but it was worth a shot. I hated mazes and at the rate I was going, I’d starve befo
re I cracked this one. I pushed off the ground and glided into the thick fog above. The tops of the hedges were taller than I’d expected, and the white vapor obscured my vision.

  Damn.

  I floated higher, hoping I might get above the fog and steal a view, but my movement came to a jarring halt. I was jerked backward by something sharp that had wrapped around my ankle, cutting into my skin.

  “What the—”

  Another violent jolt pulled me down. I surged upward with all my strength, but the harder I pushed, the stronger it pulled. Several vines lashed out toward my face.

  Fear iced my skin. Gripping my khanjar, I slashed the vine that held me, severing it before ducking from another. More grasped for me, so I shot toward the ground, but a particularly nasty one constricted around my torso, pulling me back. I reached behind and sliced it cleanly, then dropped below the fog bank and landed.

  Rubbing my stinging ankle, I glanced up. Several vines twisted through the fog above, then disappeared.

  I definitely wouldn’t try that again.

  Where the heck was Damian?

  I gazed down at my khanjar. I needed help.

  Ask for it.

  I remembered the book I’d stolen from the djinn’s vault, Secrets of the Djinn—in particular, the section on summoning air elementals. I wasn’t sure exactly how it’d work or who I’d summon, but at this point, I was ready to try anything.

  “Help,” I said, feeling awkward. “I could use some help?”

  I waited, but no one appeared, and I sighed. The maze it is, I guess.

  A buzz whipped through the air, and then another. I shot to my feet, looking around wildly. Where had it gone?

  The air vibrated behind me. I turned, my hand clutching the khanjar a little too tightly.

  A tiny sprite hung in the air before me. Whereas the sprites I’d met previously had been vaguely formed, this one had a woman’s body, and her skin was faintly tinted green. She was no bigger than my hand and wore a dress made from a leaf.

  I found my voice. “Hi, there.”

  The little sprite smiled and flitted in front of me, hovering a few inches from my face. She moved like a hummingbird, swiftly and erratically, but didn’t speak. Instead, she beckoned me with a wave of her hand.