by Karlik, Mary
He slung the belt over his shoulder and wrenched the targe handle past his hand to his wrist. “Aye. Be safe, wee fairy.” He grabbed two sacks of globes in each meaty hand and hurried up the stairs.
“It’s time to get serious.” Layla fashioned a rain cloud to pour water just above her head, and flew into the melee.
The Dark Harvester zapped her with a stream that closed around her throat like a dragon’s talon.
Ian blasted the red stream with fire, but it was relentless. Layla was going to have to use full power to fight back, which meant she wouldn’t be able to maintain her constant supply of rain.
She managed to squeak, “Cover me.”
It took Ian a second to understand, but once he did, he flew over her with his wings spread wide. Smoothing her fingers up her neck she managed to wiggle them beneath the conjured noose. The energy in her center was strong and she released it in a single blast that broke his hold on her throat.
Laughter shook from him as he hit her stream with his. Vile red magic weaved through her blue stream until it entered her body.
Layla’s brìgh grew cold while pain seared through her as his magic attacked hers. She tried to hang on, to fight it, but his stream was stronger and her power began to peel away.
She couldn’t let him take it. The fairies depended on her. Esme depended on her. Failure is not an option. She couldn’t have come this far only to be rendered null by a creature that let spiders use him for a habitat.
“No. Leave me.” Instead of pulling her magic from him, she focused on pushing his away. At first, it was like trying to knock down a stone wall. Then, slowly it retreated.
She kept pushing. Even when she felt it leave her body, she pushed. When his magic returned to him she followed it, right into the depths of his soulless body. She wrapped her stream around his unanchored stolen magic, and pulled.
His nasty, cold, dark magic followed her stream. She was in control. She was the Harvester now and all she had to do was snap her fingers and his neck would break like a dried-up twig. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was thrilling—until she tasted the bitterness of evil.
His blue eyes turned black and his face grew hard. He cried out and spiders spilled from him… or were they spilling from her?
The dragon grabbed her by the shoulders and shook. As if being yanked from a dream, she jerked her magic from the Harvester. The recoil from her magic leaving him with such force made him totter until he fell on all fours.
He screamed as the acid burned through his hands and knees, and when he fell face first on the floor, the screams gurgled into a dreadful silence. In seconds, the only thing left of him was the soles of the boots that had protected him from the acid.
Layla squinted up at Ian’s scaly underside. “Let’s get out of here.”
He flew her to the storage room. As soon as he released her, she shifted human-size.
Layla looked into his crimson eyes and swallowed the remains of her dragon fear. “Can you change back?”
He closed his eyes and took several slow breaths. Pain washed through Layla as he returned to his human state, but it was no worse than when she shifted sizes.
When he finished, his eyes grew wide and he covered as much of his body as he could with his hands. “I’m naked.”
Layla almost laughed at the shock etched into his face. “Aye. Your clothes were shredded when you changed.”
“I can’t go out in public like this—I’ll be arrested.”
“I can cover you with a glamour. You’ll still be naked, but you’ll look as though you’re wearing clothes.”
She cast a spell covering him in what appeared to be the same trousers, shirt, and trainers he’d worn before he shifted.
He looked down. “I do look as if I’m wearing clothes, but my skin is very aware that I’m bare-arsed. I’m not keen on the sensation.” He rubbed his good hand along the green scales that ran from his shoulder down his arm, fading into normal human skin just below the wrist. “I guess this is permanent.”
“Aye. I can try to rework the glamour if you want.” She raised her hand to cast the spell.
“No. It’s fine.” Then he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes with the same intensity as the Harvester had. “You feel my pain, so you feel when I shift. Are you okay? Is it too much?”
“You call that wee cramp pain? I’m fine.” She tried the shoulder bump thing. But she was standing in front of him not next to him so it came off awkward. She faked a cough and turned her back to him. “Let’s find Buzzard and get the fairies to the kirk.”
“Aye.” They ran through the tunnels and caught up with Buzzard at the iron gate.
He smacked Ian on the shoulder. “You came in handy.”
A quirky smile crossed Ian’s lips. “It hurts like hell to transform, but once it’s done, it’s amazing.”
Layla opened the gate. “I hate to interrupt the moment, but we need to get the fey to safety.”
They hurried down the street toward the church, but as they neared the kirkyard Layla slowed. The Wise Wife of Keith had told her there were things she hadn’t discovered about herself. She’d warned Layla to use her power honorably. And now she understood what the Wife meant.
The bracelet had been placed on Layla’s wrist not to protect her but for the protection of others.
She was dangerous and powerful.
She was a Harvester.
Layla stopped at the kirkyard gate.
Ian stood at her side. “What is it?”
She had harvested evil magic. What did that mean? Would her soul succumb? Would it die and leave her a shell of the fairy she had been? Would she become a Dark Harvester? Icy fear filled every part of her as she met Ian’s concerned gaze. “I don’t know if I can go through.”
Buzzard held the gate open. “What do you mean?”
She closed her eyes to calm her nerves, but when she opened them to see the gate in front of her, dread swirled twice as heavily in her belly. “I defeated the Dark Harvester because—because I’m a Harvester too. I took some of his magic.” She looked from Ian to Buzzard and back. “There’s a bit of evil in me, just as there’s a shard of dragon in you.”
Ian’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you saying?”
“If I try to pass through the gate into a holy place and there is evil in me, I will die.”
Buzzard closed the gate. “Just to be clear, do you mean figuratively? Or will you literally die?”
She covered her mouth with trembling fingers and whispered, “Literally.”
Buzzard shook his head. “Ach. Lass, you are not evil. Knock that notion from your mind.”
“I’m not evil, yet. But I still took his power.”
Ian faced her. “Look at me. You did what you had to do to save us—to save the fairies. There is absolutely nothing evil in you. Besides, I went through the gate and nothing happened.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You turned after you were inside the church. I don’t know if you can go through now. Ian, we need to stay outside the kirk.”
“You’re being ridiculous. You are not evil and neither am I.” He backed toward the gate. “Aye, I have dragon in me and it is pure evil. But I’m in control. I’m no worried. I’ll go first. You’ll see.”
“No—Ian—” She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the scream of Ian’s death.
Chapter Twenty-One
The sound of the kirkyard gate squeaking as it swung on its old iron hinges chattered down Layla’s spine like ice breaking from the trees in a wild winter wind.
“See? No problem.” Ian’s voice wafted across the fence, full of confidence.
She opened her eyes and relief blew through her. Ian stood inside the kirkyard, his arms stretched wide, wearing a huge grin. A human man full of kindness, bravery—and a wee bit of dragon—had passed through the gate into a holy sanctuary.
Buzzard held the gate open. “If that mangy dog made it through, I know you can.”
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But the dragon blood had been forced upon Ian. She’d stolen the Dark Harvester’s magic on purpose. She’d pulled it from him and swallowed it into herself. She’d chosen it. She could have stopped harvesting, but hadn’t and wouldn’t have—oh no, not until she’d seized every bit of the evil magic—if Ian hadn’t shaken some sense into her.
At the gate, she fey-sized. “If I am to die, it will be as a fairy.” Focusing on the door of the church, she sucked in a deep breath and buzzed over the fence to the steps.
She released the breath she held as she landed and shifted her size. “I’m okay.” Joy bubbled up inside. “We’re okay.”
“Aye. Of course we’re okay.” Ian pulled open the heavy wood door leading into the church.
Layla led them to the altar. Before she opened the secret passage down to the cellar, Ian stopped her. “I’ll go no further. I may be in control of the dragon, but I’ve felt his hunger. I’ll no jeopardize the good folk.”
Layla placed a hand over the scales of his dragon arm and looked him in the eyes. “You’re a good man, Specialist Agent Ian Cameron. The dragon won’t win.”
Ian covered her hand with his. “And you have a pure heart, fairy. No more nonsense about dying trying to enter a kirk.”
Buzzard held up the sacks full of globes. “You’re both good people. Come on, let’s get these fey to the cellar.”
Layla turned from Ian. “Right behind you.”
As they entered the room, a Primrose fairy with a wide-toothed grin flew in front of them and clasped her hands to her breast. “You saved them.”
A cheer went up from the rest of the fairies who’d remained behind.
Buzzard set the sacks on the floor. “Aye, we did—and the Dark Harvester is dead.”
Another cheer went up as the fairies crowded around Layla. She knelt and reached into the first bag.
Buzzard scanned the room. “Where’s the other team?”
The Primrose twittered her wings. “They’re not back yet.”
The globe Layla held slipped from her hold as her heart dropped into her gut. She caught it before it hit the ground, but her hands shook so hard she nearly dropped it again before safely placing it on the floor. She said in a low voice to Buzzard, “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Shouldn’t they be back by now?”
The Primrose fairy landed in front of the globe and placed her hands on the glass. “Aye. Shona said it was a simple rescue.” Sadness shadowed her face as she stared at the fey inside. “I doubt anything is simple when you’re dealing with this kind of magic.”
Buzzard raised his eyes as though he could see right through the ceiling. “We need to collect Ian and get to the shop.”
Ian leaned against the pew cap rail and stared up at the painting of St. George. Father Wilson appeared next to him. He nodded to the spirit. “Father.”
The priest considered the painting too. “You’ve not taken your eyes from it. I can assure you that in four hundred years, I’ve never seen it change.”
“The dragon simmers inside me, Father. It’s like a deadly virus waiting for its moment to seize control. Staring at this painting comforts me.” He flattened his palm against his chest. “I feel this thing inside me—so powerful—and I know its bloodthirsty desires. If I can pretend I’m a wee bit like St. George, maybe I can control it. The truth be told, Father, I’m scared.”
Father Wilson walked closer to the painting, then turned to Ian. “I believe everything has a purpose. It wasn’t by chance that Layla was brought to you. I don’t believe it was by chance that you were infected with the dragon poison or the plague.”
“I could have died. Maybe I should have.”
Father Wilson clasped his hands. “You could have died, but the Wise Wife of Keith was here, and Layla was able to perform the magic. It was no accident that you survived. You have a purpose in all of this.”
The dragon within wrapped a talon around Ian’s throat making him catch his breath. He gasped and fought to submerge the beast to a place somewhere between soul and body.
The priest gazed at him intently. “Stay with us, lad. You can win this fight.”
When Ian could breathe again, he lowered himself into a pew and rubbed his neck. “Father, I feel the appetite the beast has for the fairies. I am on the verge of losing control. What if it happens? How could I live with myself?”
“While you are here, the dragon cannot have you. He’s toying with you, checking your defenses, as it were. That said, you have a fight ahead of you. It won’t be easy and I fear this battle will take you beyond the world you know. There will be moments when the dragon will rule. But you have to keep fighting until you get your control back. It’s the same struggle we all face. We all lose control now and then.”
“Aye, but most don’t kill when that happens.”
The priest looked toward the painting. “Keep the image of St. George in your head and remember who you are, Ian Cameron.” He faded as Buzzard and Layla rushed past him to the door.
Buzzard called over his shoulder, “Ian, the others are in trouble.”
Ian ran to catch up as they crossed the churchyard. “They should have been back by now.”
The dragon surfaced the moment he passed through the kirkyard gate. The beast filled every part of him and if he couldn’t push it down, he’d shift. If he shifted, it wouldn’t be by his own choice and he wouldn’t be in control. Kaleidoscope colors swirled in front of his eyes for blinks at a time. When the colors cleared, he saw his agony echoed in Layla’s face. Pain knifed through them both as the dragon fought for control.
She spoke to him, but her words came in chunks, like a mobile with poor reception. “Stay… you… control.”
He thought of the painting and imagined he was the one with his foot planted on the dragon’s chest. That he was the one holding the spear at the beast’s throat. The dragon struggled against the image, but Ian kept it clear in his mind until the beast skulked away.
Ian’s vision returned to normal and he rolled his shoulders, wishing he could dump the unwanted burden that resided within. He’d won this round, but the dragon remained uneasy, a wild animal pacing inside a cage. And as it paced, it grew stronger, and as it grew stronger, so did his fear of losing control.
Ian turned to Buzzard. “If it rules me, you do what you have to. You take Layla’s sword and you do it.” Sadness filled him as he looked at her. “I know you feel my pain, Layla. If I die… It’s not fair. You saved me and now must suffer for it. But if it comes to it, it’s the only way. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She grabbed his arm. “It won’t come to that. Remember, you command it.”
He pulled away. “Promise me. Both of you. Promise me now that you’ll do it.”
Buzzard huffed. “You’re going to be fine. You’ve controlled it so far.”
“I need you both to promise.” He had to hear the words, to know that if the dragon consumed him, they wouldn’t allow him to kill.
Slowly, Layla nodded her head. “Aye. I promise.”
Buzzard kept his eyes trained on the buildings ahead. “I promise. Now let’s get to the fairies.”
They ran across the road to the close leading to the shop. An explosion sounded ahead and Buzzard pointed to a blast of color in the sky. “That can’t be good.”
Ian stopped. “The dragon—”
Buzzard laid his arm across Ian’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“Aye. I’m in command. Take her sword—just in case.”
Buzzard cut his gaze to Layla, “I won’t use it.”
She handed him Tormed. “I know.” Shifting fey-sized, she flew above the men. “It’s faster for me to fly. I’ll meet you there.”
As fast as her wings would pump, Layla flew down the street toward the shop. Pain flashed through her when Ian shifted. Stay in control, wee man.
Another cry penetrated the night air above the fireworks, but it wasn’t Ian. Layla looked down at the storefront and her heart jolted aga
inst her breastbone. A bolt of magic struck one of the fairies they’d saved as he ran from the building.
His child-sized body jerked and twisted as he fell to the ground unconscious. His hand went slack around the neck of the sack he carried. A globe rolled from it and across the walk to stop at the heels of another motionless fey.
Layla’s mind raced to try to figure out the scene below. Two fairies down—where was everybody else? At least a dozen had accompanied Theo and Jack.
Wings sounded overhead. Anxiety rattled through her as she watched Ian circle over the fallen fairies before perching on the roof of the shop.
She let out a breath. He didn’t snap up the fairies. He’s in control.
Layla flew to the front of the store. The inside glowed as she eased her way toward the door.
“Don’t come closer.” Theo was hunched below the storefront window. “It’s a trap.”
She human-sized but remained where she was. “What happened?”
“I knew it was too easy. The fairies got in and filled the bags without trouble. But when they stepped away from the awning, they were blasted into the street.”
“A one-way stream?”
“Aye. It seems so. I’m stuck here. If I move past the awning, I will be shot. And if you come closer, you’ll be stuck as well. Jack and the others are inside.” He smiled. “I take it you succeeded in saving the fey in the warehouse?”
“Aye, and the Dark Harvester is dead.”
“That’s something. Ian and Buzzard are okay?”
Layla pointed up. “Ian’s on the roof. He shifted into a dragon.”
The color drained from Theo’s face.
Layla shook her head. “It’s okay. He can control it. He shifts at will.” For now, anyway.
Theo glanced at the door to the shop. “Maybe he can help us.”
“Now that I know what I’m dealing with, I can help.” Layla stood in front of the door and felt the hum of the magic reach toward her. When she backed away, it strengthened and came after her, attempting to lock onto her magic.