What if…what if I cannot wield its power, father? What if it is too great for me?
You needn’t worry. If you cannot wield all of its power, you will surely be able to wield some, and that is more than most people can say. I believe you will become a great wizard yourself, son. I see the power growing in you everyday, in your eyes, in your posture, in your magic, but most importantly—in your heart, Ignatius. The man raised the sword slightly. Go on, my son; take it. It is yours. My time with it is done. To a new owner it goes, as it has for generations.
Tears formed in Ignatius’s eyes. One trailed down his cheek. Thank you, father—
Maria! Maria! If you hear me, then listen!
“Sherlock?”
Suddenly, Maria was brought back to the present. If it hadn’t been for the fact she was currently flying through the air on the back of a giant lizard beast, she would’ve been in awe of what just happened to her.
What happened to me? And was that Sherlock’s voice I just heard, or is the lack of oxygen up here getting to my brain?
The dragon lurched downward again. Maria’s heart jumped into her throat, causing her to swallow it back down. Her grip was slipping on the spikes. She was tempted to throw her sword away and hang on for dear life, but something was telling her she would need her sword. The sword was special.
‘Passed down for generations,’ the man had said in her vision.
A snippet of words filled Maria’s mind now, words she didn’t fully understand
—fei feir!
“What?” she called out and received no answer.
Instead, another voice came into her mind, one slippery with treachery and deceit.
You just do not give up, do you, witch?
It was the voice of a female, and it seemed close.
Well, let’s see if you can stay on after this!
The dragon rolled in the air three times very fast. Maria’s stomach lurched and groaned, and for a moment she thought she was going to slip off, but she didn’t. When the dragon righted itself, Maria found herself, facing the other direction. Now her back was up against one of the dragon’s spikes, and her feet were wedged in front of her. She sat in a makeshift seat. Feeling momentarily secure, she sheathed the sword and hugged the nearby spike with both arms.
Stubborn! So stubborn! But we shall see—
It took Maria longer than it should for her to realize who was talking to her, but once she did, she decided to use her abilities to her advantage.
“Odarth the Bright, you will go back from whence you came!” she spoke in a commanding voice.
Hardly, my dear!
The dragon shot straight up into the air and rolled, gliding upside down. Maria’s arms slowly gave way to gravity, slipping down the ridged spine. The satchel hung upside down with Maria, dancing off her shoulder.
The music box! No!
She had to choose—death, or the loss of the music box.
She let go of the spike and reached out for the falling strap. She caught it before it could fall into the burning lake below.
And Maria fell with it.
Chapter Twelve
Just then, the dragon righted herself. Maria’s mind acted on instinct. With the satchel in her hand, she reached inside of her mind for her magic—only catching a bit, for the distraction of death was far too much to allow her to call upon it in full-force.
But it was enough.
A burst of electric blue escaped her hands and propelled her upward. With a great heave, she looped the strap of the satchel around the dragon’s horns. Weightless, she floated until a sudden jerk tore through her muscles. The breath was knocked from her lungs as she slammed into the surface of the dragon’s neck.
If you’ll not allow me to kill you, witch, then I shall do something much worse. Oh, yes…what is that I feel? Your mind is open. I can read it like a book, the sly dragon voice cooed. You feel strongly for the ones below me, the ones on the beach. I see their faces: an old man, a furry beast, another witch…and—and a Gnome! Ha! Then I shall kill them, too. This time I will try harder.
Theix grututa—
“No!” Maria shouted. She reached for her sword.
Yes, draw your blade. My armor shall shatter such a puny mortal weapon. Go ahead, do it!
Maria! Maria! Are you listening? Listen to me! Theix…grututa…fei…feir! Theix grututa fei feir!
“Sherlock?” this time she was sure. His voice came to her fully, but so did the ripping seams of the satchel. They would not hold on for much longer.
Theix grututa fei feir! Say the spell, Maria! I don’t know what the hell it’s going to do. Just say it so Ignatius gets out of my face, say it! Theix grututa fei feir!
Maria gave one last heave on the satchel’s straps. She looped it over her body until she was just inches away from the dragon’s large, curved horn atop her head.
They broke through dark clouds, and Maria, holding on for dear life, saw the sandy land getting closer and closer.
A sudden burst of heat sliced through the chilly air and rain, coming from right beneath her. A sound like a great revving engine filled her ears.
The dragon is pulling fire from her belly, preparing to roast my family below.
Sherlock’s voice chanted the mantra in her head: Theix grututa fei feir! Theix grututa fei feir! Theix grututa fei feir! Theix grututa—
Closer and closer the land came. Maria reached for her sword in its sheath. The G-force would not allow her an easy escape from the makeshift seatbelt she had made with the satchel’s strap. She would have to cut it free and fight the beast from land—a battle she would surely lose.
Theix grututa fei feir! Now Sherlock’s voice cut out, replaced with a whine.
As a cry of war, the anger rippling through her, the blue magic illuminating
