The Crystal Dragon Series Collection

by Katie Cherry

  When I join everyone downstairs, I’m relieved to see that the ice rain had melted and had been cleaned up from the doorway, and Chester and Hannah were free from its grip as well. Chester’s arms were bandaged, but Hannah was still in the middle of bandaging her shoulders, so I was able to catch a glimpse of the red welts similar to a third-degree burn, a small hole burned into her muscles from each drop. My stomach clenches and I look away.

  “Good morning,” Hannah greets, pulling her shirt up to cover her bandaged shoulders. “For breakfast we’re going to have the last of the bread, then we’ll head to your appointment. Chester’s going to stay home and recover, though, since he got burned really badly.” Chester grunts in confirmation and doesn’t look up at us. “Eat quickly though, it’s a little ways across town,” she adds, grabbing plates and placing the steaming slices of bread before us. Not looking at each other, Nathan and I wolf down the food. Hannah doesn’t eat. As soon as we’re done, she leads us back out into the cold without another word. We follow her silently.

  I feel bad for her, although the storm wasn’t our fault. She was hurting, and she was still doing her best to aid us. Chester was stuck at home with those horrible wounds covering his arms and back as well. My gut continues to feel tight as we arrive at the appointed place, are led into the back, and while lasers of some kind are focused on the tiny dot at the base of my throat. Even as all this is happening, my mind remains stuck on the ice rain. It was such a horrible thing! I hoped I would never encounter it again.

  When the process is over, I don’t feel any different, but Hannah assures me that it will work. Nathan’s done soon after me, and we walk with Hannah back to the house. We go over currency with them again and have a better grasp for how much money we have and what the approximate prices for things are. After having lunch with them, we change into clothes made for swimming, again similar to what we wore for the Third Challenge back in Zilferia, and head out. We had some extra time before we’re to meet Drake at his house, so we walk quickly back towards the over-crowded street, drawn towards it as our ears pick up the sound of hollering merchants. We don’t talk much, but I can feel Nathan’s presence beside me, boosting me up by simply walking close to me as we plunge into the crowd once more. They mill around us and for a few moments I’m afraid Nathan will get swept away by the tide, taking him and his comforting strength away from me.

  Luckily, he’s able to stick close by my side, easing the pressure in my chest at the thought of losing him. I’m just turning to point something out to him when I feel bony fingers wrap tightly around my arm. Squealing, I spin towards the source of the grip and am surprised to find myself face-to-face with an old lady, cloaked in strange fabrics in all sorts of colors and patterns.

  “Apologies, miss,” the lady croaks, finally peeling her long, thin fingers from my arm. “This isn’t something I do often… however, I’m hoping you’ll allow me to make an exception.”

  “Are you a vendor here?” Nathan asks, hovering even closer, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. I feel better knowing he’s here to protect me, although the old lady still unnerves me a little.

  “I am, although my wares are very… different from the rest,” she chuckles wetly, panting for breath afterward.

  “It’s like she already has one foot in the grave,” Nathan mumbles to me, his lips turned up in a slight, amused smile. I smile in return, but I don’t relax.

  “What do you mean, different?” I ask, trepidation building in me even as the questions burst from my lips. “What are you selling? And why on earth would you think we’re interested?”

  The lady’s eyes glitter as they look up at me, a knowing smile on her face. “What I sell is knowledge, my dear. I can see what others cannot… such as you two being foreigners to Quagon.” I blanch at the statement and look around in a panic. Luckily no one seemed to be paying any attention to us. “Come, let us talk more in my tent- it’s much more private,” she winks before turning her humped back to us and shuffling towards a dark purple tent.

  “No way are we doing that,” Nathan growls, grabbing at my arm. “We’re leaving that crazy lady to her dark tent. I don’t trust her.”

  “I don’t either,” I sigh, turning to watch as the woman stops at the entrance of her tent before shifting her eyes back to us, her gaze piercing as she awaits us. “But what choice do we have? She might be our best bet to find Rex- she said she can see more than anyone else, right? She pegged us as other-worlders before even talking to us. Maybe she’s done the same with Rex and could help us.” At Nathan’s stony face, I sigh. “Nathan, it’ll be alright, okay? I promise. It’s just one old lady versus you and me. We’re a good enough team to take her on, right?” I finish with a wink.

  Sighing even as he smiles, he gives in with a nod. “Alright. But anything… fishy happens and we’re out of there. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I reply, leading the way through the crowd milling through the street to the only place that was empty of movement- this strange purple tent looming before us. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I duck through the small opening, pushing back the heavy fabric. Nathan is so close behind me that I can feel his warmth on my back. Instinctively reaching toward him as we enter the dark tent, I slip my hand into his, intertwining our fingers. Thus leading him by the hand, we’re joined as we take in the sight before us.

  “What on earth…?” I repeat, unable to keep from staring. The tent was impossibly large on the inside, tables and shelves going back so far I know it would be running into the houses lining the street. This tent should only just be able to hold the three of us, yet somehow it felt as though it could hold all of the merchants’ stands and wares. Strange things line the shelves that we slowly step past, causing a cold shiver to run down my spine. Since going to Zilferia, I learned that magic was real and wasn’t really like all those TV shows where they needed various strange ingredients to cook up a spell… but this woman fit the image of a Witch in every form of the word. My mouth goes dry as I catch sight of a dried severed head. I try to swallow but my throat seems to close up. What could this witch do to us? I wonder, fear causing my head to pound.

  “Do not be afraid,” the woman’s voice sounds, drawing my gaze back to her as she stands before a small, circular table. “I only wish to be of service, to give some extra sight and knowledge to two young adventurers such as yourselves.”

  “What’s with all this creepy stuff?” Nathan asks, his voice raspy, the only clue I have as to how freaked out he is as well by this witch and her ‘wares.’

  “The amount of power one has is limited,” she explains, gesturing us forward. We slowly and hesitantly shuffle closer to the table. “Certain items can expand what I’m able to divine.”

  “Of course,” Nathan mutters. Turning to me, his hazel eyes glitter in concern. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, there are other ways… Quagon doesn’t even have that large of a population, I’m sure we can look on our own.”

  “And if she can see into other realms as well? She could be the key to ending this war before it really starts to pick up,” I whisper in return, feeling bold. Turning back to the woman, I pull out my coin pouch.

  “Alright, very well. How much for your… skills?” I ask, hating my voice for the way it trembles.

  “Like I said, I don’t do this often, but I’m curious enough about the two of you that my assistance today is of no cost to you.”

  “Right, because that’s not suspicious at all,” Nathan mutters.

  Taking a deep breath, I tell myself to calm down and focus on the matter before me. Getting information from this witch. “Okay. What do we have to do?”

  She smiles at me, near enough now for me to notice her uneven, unclean teeth. “Sit,” she instructs, pulling out the nearest chair and waving her small arm from me to it. Giving Nathan a confident smile, I walk forward and sit in the seat, every muscle tense. When nothing happens, Nathan warily obeys the witch’s direction to sit in the seat beside me. She sits
as well, and my gaze is drawn towards the bowl resting in the middle of the table. It’s filled with a swirling blue mist. Gulping, I turn my gaze back to the woman as she hunches over the table. “Now, there isn’t much that you need to do,” she assures us with a smile that doesn’t really ease my trembling body. “All we need to do is hold hands. A secure circle joining the three of us.”

  I’m happy to reclaim Nathan’s hand, but we both eye the witch’s small, withered hands with distrust. Reaching out at the same time, we force ourselves to allow her to grasp each of our free hands. “I thank you for your trust,” the witch smiles, straightening. “I must now go into a trance. I only ask that you be silent and still as I do so. Do not break the circle until I am finished. Do you understand?” I nod, relieved that all I have to do is to literally do nothing.

  I watch as her eyes slowly close and her head bows. After a few moments, I glance at Nathan. I can tell we’re both feeling a little better about the situation, although it still feels unreal and strange. Noticing his eyes widen, I follow his gaze to the center of the table, where tendrils of the blue mist are beginning to reach out from the wooden bowl. Soon it swirls outward. It takes everything I have to hold still and watch as it fills the area above the table. Thankfully, it stops there, although it continues to slowly swirl around the table. Relaxing slightly, I look back at the witch. As I do, her head lifts and her eyes open. I can’t help but gape in shock. They’re pure white. The blue mist suddenly picks up, swirling around us all, nearly obscuring my vision. Words, strong and echoing with magic, come from her lips, although the voice doesn’t sound like her own.

  “Your search is for a dragonblooded-child… I see a man with dragon instincts run wild. Closer than you think, a danger you should seek. A foe for most, a friend she’ll be; a truth she will reveal to thee. Everything you see will change, black and white shall be a range, emotions rise, friendships tried, a chasm between you shall open wide. Yet for the future, this change will provide, two girls with skills that none can hide.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Under the Surface

  Twigs on the forest floor snap as Zarafa runs, even as more hanging from the trees whip at her face, their long, slender form appearing to her as fingers reaching for her, tearing at her grey cloak and scratching tunnels into her once fair face. Snarling at them, she rushes on, the baying of wolves behind her, growing closer. Her arms tremble as she clutches the over-sized frog to her chest, its body alone the length of her arm. She hadn’t known that her captured meal was so close to a wolf pack on the hunt. If she had, she would have gladly chosen to let another meal slide. Allowing her human disguise to drop from her, she feels her teeth sharpen as her eyes finally expand to take in more light. They burned a little at the bright moonlight, but it was much preferable to the havoc the sunlight would unleash upon her skin. Her sense of smell heightened as well, she could smell the approach of the wolves more clearly. A front-runner had nearly caught up to her on her right; its movements nearly silent but for her vampiric hearing. Snarling, she turns sharply to the left, still clutching the limp, sticky body of the frog to her chest. She would drop it now and leave it to the wolves, but she knew they would continue on after her, leaving her meal in their tracks; dusty and forgotten.

  Finally breathing hard from her run, the footfalls of the wolves are cloaked to her hearing. Cursing herself, she slows down a notch to still her breathing and check back in on the progress of the pack. Nothing. Her heart stops. She spins around. Nothing. Sharpening her eyesight further, she notices a wolf a few feet before her, nearly invisible from blending into the forest so well. A few feet to its left, another. And another. And another. Somehow, they had gotten ahead of her and were now surrounding her. Carefully. Slowly. Purposefully.

  Locking eyes with the lead wolf, a battle-worn specimen with scars overlapping its face and small chunks sliced from its ears, Zarafa growls, baring her own pointed teeth. Making herself appear larger through spreading her limbs and magic, the wolves’ ears all flick back as they stare at her. Still, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to convince a hungry pack to leave her. Glancing quickly to the nearest tree, she calculates the distance.

  As the lead wolf crouches, she does the same. Muscles tensing in both their legs, preparing for a leap. The wolf thinks it has her. She thinks she can make the leap. Finally, the wolves leap at her at once. She releases the tension in her own legs at the same time, making a desperate, flying leap towards the nearest tree. As it comes closer, panic pulses through her veins. I’m not going to make it… I didn’t aim high enough. Using the last of the blood magic she had siphoned from a human, she pushes desperately for the needed lift, knowing the wolves would be on her the second she fell back to the ground. Slowly, slowly, she rises, slightly higher than her jump had put her. Clinging to the sticky leg of her frog with one hand, she desperately stretches the other out. The branch comes closer… closer… Zarafa holds her breath as her fingertips touch the soft bark… and fail to wrap around and secure her.

  With a shocked scream, she falls, landing harshly on the branch below her, sticks now scraping her legs as she begins to slide off the branch, back toward the ground where the wolves were beginning to circle again. “No!” she screams, grabbing a branch to pull herself up higher. She finally is able to stop her descent, but not soon enough. A blur rushes below her, and she feels a tight, crushing grip on her ankle, fierce teeth easily tearing through the skin. With another scream, she forces herself to push her leg deeper into the wolf’s mouth. Immediately choking, the wolf thrashes, releasing her. Panting, with tears running from her eyes, she finally manages to pull her legs up onto the branch with her. The wolves below her begin leaping up at her. With each try, they get closer. Gulping a few more breaths of air, Zarafa stands on her good foot, leaning against the trunk of the tree for balance. Gritting her pointed teeth, she climbs up a couple more feet.

  When she’s sure the wolves won’t be able to reach her, she sits on the branch, leaning her back against the trunk of the tree. It takes a long time, but the wolves eventually leave. Zarafa relaxes into the tree, the big stupid frog on her lap. Her ankle was slowly beginning to heal, but thanks to a lack of blood supply, she was unlikely to heal fully for weeks.

  “I hate Zelon,” she mutters before finally taking a bite of the frog. Uncooked, slimy, and dragged across a decent portion of the forest, it was hardly appetizing. After choking down as much as she could, she slung it over a branch to the right of her. Pulling her grey cloak, now full of holes from her time on Zelon, tightly around her body, she curls in close to the trunk of the tree.

  “I hate Zelon,” she whispers, closing her eyes against the burn of the moonlight. “I hate Patrick for all he’s ruined for me. I hate… I hate the Higher Power, for treating me like dirt, even before I was exiled.” Breathing out a shaky breath, her voice grows stronger and less full of self-pity. “I will take my revenge on Dravyn, if it’s the last thing I do,” she growls, a smile slowly creeping back onto her red lips. “And he will taste my fury.”

  <<>>

  The blue smoke disappears all at once, allowing me to clearly see the witch as her eyes close and she slumps back into her seat. I immediately drop both hands that I had been holding and push the chair back as I stand, panting. Whatever spell she just used seemed to have taken a toll from Nathan and I as well. Taking in a deep breath as though emerging suddenly from sleep, the witch sits back upright, her eyes opening to reveal that they have returned to normal. I relax with a deep sigh, sinking back into the chair. “What the heck was that?” I demand, facing the witch.

  She smiles wearily at me. “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you. I have no recollection of the prophecies I pronounce. Whatever words you heard, no one knows but you. Now, prophecies are clear pictures of the future, but rarely worded in such a way to provide easy translation before the events unfold. I have a feeling it was specific regarding the two of you, though… in which case, I would offer this advice- do not
breathe a word of it to anyone. No matter how much you think you can trust them. Prophecies are sacred, and bad things can begin to muddle the future it concerns should too many- or the wrong people- know about it.”

  Her words weigh heavy on my shoulders. I shift my eyes over to Nathan, who seems to be feeling the gravity of the situation as well. The witch’s eyes roam over both of us before she slowly rises back to her feet. “I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes for you to commit your prophecy to memory. It is important to know, but again, never speak of it. It would be safest if you never even mentioned it between the two of you.” With that, she shuffles back into her tent, pretending to examine some jars as she waits for us.

  Turning back to Nathan, I raise my eyebrows at him. He gives me a quirky little smile in return. “Well. That was… that was something for sure.”

  “Something important, apparently. I wonder how many prophecies I’m involved in now,” I sigh, burying my face in my hands for a few moments.

  “Yeah… I never knew the weight that it put on you until now,” Nathan murmurs. “I can feel this one weighing on me like… I don’t know, an abrupt change in atmosphere or something. Everything has just… shifted for us, hasn’t it?”

  I peek up at him through my fingers before pulling out of my hands and looking at him solemnly. “Yes. I think it has.”

  After a few moments of silence, we turn our thoughts inward to try and commit the prophecy to memory. I try my hardest not to start dissecting it, but simply repeat the words in my mind. My thoughts linger on this alleged foe-turned-friend and two especially skilled girls, however. I can’t help but wonder if they’re related. They should be, since they’re involved in the same prophecy, right? Maybe the foe introduces us to the girls… maybe they could turn the tide in the war and possibly even end it! I’m elated at the prospect of not having the welfare of everyone’s lives resting solely on my shoulders.