Is it a trap? No, I can’t think like that. Not now.
Instead, he leaned forward to whisper in Frieda’s ear, asking if she was ready. Her long, full hair smelled like the woods, like the leaves…like home.
How can I be falling for a dark witch? Frieda was a member of a small group of magic users who’d been a problem to the villagers of Dominion so long ago.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts as Frieda replied, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
She turned around, her beautiful eyes finding his, and leaned in to kiss Ignatius full on the mouth. Her lips were soft, her taste sweet. Youthful resurgence hummed though his body, and he gawked at her, floating on that kiss.
“For luck,” Frieda said, and the flames from her hands burned brighter and darker, edging on red—the color of love.
Maria saw all of this, of course. At first, she was shocked, and perhaps a little offended that Frieda would do such a thing in front of her. Her grandfather had never been one to have girlfriends. He often talked about the love of his life—Maria’s grandmother, who had passed away many years previously—but Ignatius Apple, as Maria knew him, did not often talk of love or relationships.
At least, not to her.
What little lovey-dovey stuff he did talk about was exclusive to the many soap operas he had watched from sunup to sundown during simpler times, before they hopped planets and decided to take down a dragon.
Yet, as Maria knew so well, stranger things had happened. And once she saw the big, goofy grin on her grandfather’s face, she wanted nothing more than for Frieda to end up as her new step-grandma.
They just had to get through this task first.
It is often said that the first step is always the hardest. This was true for Maria. Sure, she was growing more powerful by the second, and her confidence grew along with her powers, but each new challenge brought a new set of fears, too.
What if I trip and fall in my mad dash to the beach, and it alerts the remaining Dragon Tongue to our presence? What if Sherlock and Gelbus are already dead? What if Penelope and the other townspeople are burning right now?
No, Maria, you can’t think like that, she scolded herself. You were raised by Ignatius ‘Ferod’ Apple. He taught you all there is to know about being a good person and doing the right thing, and you’re not going to disappoint him or yourself. You’re going to save the fucking day.
With that, she took off toward the beach. Her footsteps were muffled by the sand, though she kicked rocks in every direction. Gramps and Frieda were right behind her.
The Dragon Tongue turned around, but it was too late. Maria thrust out with her sword, catching the nearest one along his arm, then she kicked up with her left leg and caught him in the throat. He hit the sand, unconscious.
By this time, Frieda’s white and red flames licked at the remaining Tongue, driving them backward. Some tried to deflect the magic with their swords, only to scream out in pain as their fingers and forearms roasted in the heat of Frieda’s power.
Gramps’s voice boomed with spells, and the fleeing Dragon Tongue fell over as ropes manifested out of thin air to bind themselves around their wrists and ankles.
“Nice!” Maria shouted.
Gramps turned and offered her a wink, then pointed behind her with a look of alarm. She turned around and raised her sword quickly enough to deflect the blow from a Dragon Tongue’s curved black sword; the hit was strong enough to knock her back. She lost her balance and landed in the sand next to the recaptured townspeople. Gramps and Frieda were shouting their battle cries as they fought off more of the Dragon Tongue behind them. She would have to get out of this herself.
She moved to grab her sword—
Where’d it go?
The Dragon Tongue’s shadow blotted out the light from the two moons as the man stood above her. He raised his own sword, revealing sharp fangs behind pulled-back lips.
Maria reached out to her right, expecting the blade to be there, and grabbed a handful of sand and rocks instead.
This is it. The end.
Just as the wind of the hit came whirling toward her and Maria closed her eyes, the Dragon Tongue grunted.
Maria opened her eyes. One of the townspeople, a young man with wiry blonde hair, had thrown his shoulder into the Dragon Tongue’s sternum, knocking him on his back and pinning him down. It bought Maria enough time to find her sword, gain her footing, and knock the guard out.
“Thanks,” she said to the young man.
He nodded. “Thank you for saving my family.”
Maria cut his ropes and the ropes around the other townspeople. “Go,” she told them, “Run somewhere safe. Stick to the shadows and don’t come out until your mayor gives the order.”
The survivors nodded, looks of gratitude on their faces.
Two Dragon Tongue came forward, and Maria put herself between them and the townspeople. “Go!” she ordered again.
The Dragon Tongue shot flames from their palms.
“Big mistake,” Maria said as she thrust her sword out in front of her to block their combined fire. Like before, the blade absorbed the spell, and the power thrummed through her. She shouted out as she stabbed the sand, and the magic burst out from the cross-guard in an array or oranges, reds, and blacks. Like twin snakes, the flames rocked the Dragon Tongue, igniting one and knocking the other out.
The flaming guard ran for the lake.
“No!” Maria shouted. If he reached the water, he would ignite the surface, and their plan would be forced into motion. She couldn’t risk that.
She brought her sword up, preparing to throw it. The distance between her and the
