“Is that the truth, or are you just trying to make me feel better?” she asked. “How could Lancelot Jones possibly have agreed to anything of the sort? The last time I saw him was during my day in court, where he threw me to the wolves for slaughter.”
“Aye, ‘tis true he did as he felt was best, but thot doesna mean he’s forgotten ye,” Dervish said with a wink. “I have a feeling ye may have been greatly on his mind since thot day.”
“I’m flattered that you believe me worthy of remembrance, in any case,” she chuckled. “By the way, sir, I recently have been told by more than one source that you live high atop a craggy mountain in Scotland, but it seems like you’re always here. How could you live so far away and yet get about so well?”
Dervish chuckled at this, and placed a hand upon her shoulder as he said, “Well, perhaps ye’ll find yer answer in the archives someday.”
“That is as may be, sir, but it doesn’t answer why you never seem to go home, if indeed that is where you live.”
“Thot, too, is easily explained, lassie,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Have ye ever sat atop a craggy mountain? If ye dinna have a care, the rocks will go right up yer arse.”
Felicity wasn’t sure if she should laugh, or take him seriously. She opted to simply stare at him instead, and Dervish held in his own laughter less than a minute before both of them were chuckling merrily together.
Bruno’s voice resounded nearby as he shouted, “Look at Miss Fancy-pants, acting all friendly with a Director, of all people. Tell us, Lake, are you working on going into politics next?”
“Nay, she is not, young Master Lovette. Now mind yer own business, if ye please. I am in charge of yer father’s paycheck, in case ye have forgotten.”
“Yes, sir,” he agreed, and abruptly departed.
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to shut him up for years,” Felicity marveled. “What’s your secret?”
“A compelling spell, of course,” he explained. “I dinna have time for his nonsense.”
“On a wizard, sir?”
“On anyone I desire to control, Miss Lake,” he said with a nod. “Ye just did the same thing with thot little speech ye gave, if ye only but think on it. Ye tried to compel your classmates to follow yer way of thinking. The only difference is, my brand of compelling worked a lot sooner.”
“I never thought about it quite like that,” Felicity admitted. “I suppose the idea has some merit. I’ll have to give it some thought.”
“Och, and I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Now, shall I take ye to see Lancelot Jones, so the two of ye can hash out all the gory details?”
“I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m ready,” Felicity said with a teasing tone. “I may need to stop off to get my sparring gloves first.”
“Ye’ll be good for him, I think,” Dervish smirked. “Someone to keep him on his toes, as it were.”
“Fine, then I suppose we’d best beard the lion in his den,” Felicity conceded. “Just let me say a few last good-byes, and we can be on our way.”
ELEVEN
Since the day that his wife had left him ten years ago, Lancelot Jones had prided himself on having iron control over himself where women were concerned. Over the years, as the witches had begun to take notice of his single state, this control had become more of a second nature than the carefully maintained aloofness it had started out to be.
The whole first year since Meryl had run off with some overly attentive elf, he had spent every single day reminding himself just how much she’d hurt him. The next few years, this thought process had dwindled down to just once a year, on the anniversary of the night she’d gone.
Certainly Dervish, ever a kind and faithful friend to him, had tried to draw him out of that mindset. He’d tried on many occasions to point out that not every woman was unfaithful just because one had been. He’d even managed to drag him to some date-match club a few months back, but there had been no woman there who could tempt him.
However, quite recently he’d become very aware that he’d forgotten all about the anniversary marking the death of his marriage for at least two years in a row. His firm resolve had been on a downward spiral, and he hadn’t even realized it.
Perhaps this lapse in his erstwhile firm grasp on his sanity was why he knew that it had been precisely three months, three weeks, and four days since he had suddenly found himself with Miss Felicity Lake pinned beneath him on the marbled tiles of the Magical Museum’s hall, that very same place that for the past hundred years he had been sworn to protect.
Since that night, Lance had been able to think of little else but the scintillating thought of tasting every part of Miss Felicity Lake’s delectable anatomy. It had been very difficult for him, facing off against her in the courtroom, and with much thought on the matter since, he’d figured out just exactly why it had stung quite so much.
Firstly, there was the fact that her arrival had been quite unexpected, so he had been unable to prepare himself for it either mentally or physically. For her beautiful doe eyes, flashing angrily up at him from just a hair’s breadth away. Or her trembling lips he’d felt an overwhelming urge to kiss.
Secondly, she had been right underneath of him, in a position he had not allowed himself the luxury to indulge in for a very long time. He could feel every single curve of her petite, perfect body pressed against his. And he ought to know how perfect, since he had replayed the scene often enough afterwards to have memorized every curve thoroughly.
And thirdly, there could be no ignoring everything he’d learned about the girl since then. How she was at the top of her class, how she’d felt obligated to take all the blame for a crime she hadn’t even been the originator of, just because she was that loyal to her friends. How she was a kind and caring witch who had a penchant for protecting the underdog.
Dervish had, of course, went out of his way to inform him of her interests and dislikes, which he’d found out from Madame Grelda during the girl’s time there. The witch had given him periodic updates in compliance with the court order.
But most importantly, Dervish had told him how Felicity had never once complained about the chore she had been assigned. She had actually gone out of her way to make certain it was done to perfection.
The man knew him too well, telling Lance something like that. Knew that he valued a good work ethic almost as much as he valued such true loyalty. If the sky had suddenly opened up and poured forth the woman of his dreams, it may as well have been Felicity Lake who fell down into his waiting arms.
She was feisty, and beautiful, and also quite the innovative little spell-crafter. He had been with Dervish when her confetti charm had gone off, berating the man for his unfeeling ways.
Rather than becoming annoyed, the old Scott had gotten up and taken a better look at the impressive handiwork as the particles circled about the room, deeming her one of the most ingenious young witches he’d ever come across. High praise coming from a wizard who was well over a thousand years old.
How could a mere slip of a girl, barely seventeen years old, a girl who could not possibly have ever faced a council of three hundred elders before that day, sit so calmly as they judged her? How could she speak to them so eloquently, and be so accepting of the punishment they eventually meted out to her?
He didn’t know which affected him more, the way he’d reacted to her mentally, or the physical attraction he’d been dreaming of ever since that day. The very fact that he was thinking of her right now, rather than sitting comfortably in his rocker at home, laid testament to how much the young witch had gotten to him.
Indeed, last night he should have been sitting comfortably inside his large country estate, sipping a brandy and resting his feet, as per usual. He should have been lying in his bed reading a good book. He should have been anywhere but where he found himself instead.
“This place has been in need of a thorough cleaning well before today,” he excused himself as he gave the Museum’s archives a final
once over, waving his wand about as though he was running in a decathlon. “I’m not doing this for her. Not doing it just because I don’t want the lady to see what a slob I’ve been.”
He flicked the wand again. A large feather-duster made its way out of the broom closet and set to the task of cleaning away all the cobwebs.
“It’s only common courtesy to clean up a bit when expecting the arrival of a new employee, isn’t it? I’m sure it must be,” he continued, and padded into the bathroom to look for anything in there that he wouldn’t want Felicity to see.
It was a good thing he did, too, for he’d apparently left a pair of his boxers lying about for however long it may have been. He knew the last time he had taken a shower there rather than returning home to do so was the night he and Felicity had met. That was quite a long time for them to have been lying around.
Lancelot reflected on the fateful day that Dervish McTavert had first mentioned his desire to hire Miss Lake. How his heart had sped up and his face had gone numb, and how his loins had begun to throb at the very thought.
“By the gods, Dervish, why would you want to do a thing like that?” he’d gasped.
“Thot’s a simple enough thing, laddie,” he’d scoffed. “Ye’ve been in need of an assistant around this place for an age now, and I believe Miss Felicity Lake would be perfect for thot position.”
“Position?” Lance had repeated distractedly, and noticed he was rolling one long strand of his hair between his fingers. He’d quickly let go, hoping the older wizard would not notice, but that had not been the case.
“Jones, ye canna tell me the wee lass hasna crossed yer mind since the two of ye met,” Dervish insisted. “It seems to me thot since then, ye havna put a single thought together inside yer befuddled brain. If ye are so besotted with the girl, why not just tell her so?”
“Besotted?” he’d scoffed. “What makes you think I’m besotted with Felicity Lake? You know that I have sworn off all relationships, McTavert. I’ll not let anyone hurt me like that again.”
“See, thas exactly why a girl like Felicity Lake would catch yer eye,” Dervish pointed out. “Ye already ken just how much mettle she has, dinna ye? She wouldna tell anyone who her friends were. Thot’s a mark of true loyalty, right there. Now, if ye could harness thot loyalty for yerself, sure and ye would have the finest woman on the planet.”
“Don’t be foolish, Dervish,” he’d said. “What would a school girl want with a man like me?”
“She’s not a school girl anymore,” he reminded him. “At least, she willna be one when she starts working here.”
“And have you told the council about your desires concerning the girl?” Lancelot asked. “Have they agreed to it?”
“I wanted to know if ye agreed first, laddie,” he said. “But, if ye agree to the job of giving Felicity her six years of training, I will tell them so first thing in the morning.”
“I see no reason why you’d need my permission,” he answered slowly. “This is your Museum, much as I like to claim it as well. It should be up to you who works in it.”
“Still, yer agreement was wanted,” Dervish persisted. “The main responsibility will lie with ye, lad. Sure and I’m too old to concern myself with the raising up of another acolyte.”
And Lancelot had agreed to the thing. He tried to look as though it was nothing to him one way or another. He even tried to convince himself that it wasn’t, as well. Yet here it was, the day of her graduation, and it was all he could do not to come along with Dervish just so he could give Felicity the news himself.
Did she resent him for the trial, he wondered? Had she ever resented him for having her punished, or had she seen it simply as the duty that it was? What would Felicity think if she knew he’d slept every night since they’d met with dreams of her dancing behind his eyes?
But what if Felicity was not equally as afflicted with thoughts of him? Could he possibly tell her everything that was in his heart, and risk her stomping all over his newfound emotions? He didn’t know if he could.
The only answer was to try to endure being close to her, to see if time would draw them together or pull them apart. To see if that sweet, sweet light he’d seen shining in her eyes would remain once she found out what an irritable bastard he could sometimes be.
With a heavy sigh, Lancelot went in search of anything else that needed fixing. Dervish and Felicity were sure to be along any time now, and he wanted everything to be perfect.
TWELVE
Dervish and Felicity had decided to stop off for a meal at Madame Grelda’s before they went on to the Magical Museum, and the woman had greeted the pair warmly.
“So, it’s to be the Museum for you, then, my girl?” she said excitedly. “I might have known.”
“I had no idea I’d end up there myself,” Felicity admitted. “But it’s a good placement, nevertheless.”
By the time the two of them arrived at the Museum it was practically time for sunset. Felicity regaled the old wizard with tales of her exploits at the Academie Magica, and told him a little about her adventures with her Aunt Beatrix beyond the Veil. Dervish seemed to be genuinely interested in everything that she had to say.
Felicity was starting to feel a bit better about the whole situation, but she still felt a huge knot in the pit of her stomach at the idea of once again seeing Lancelot Jones. Would the handsome wizard be just as alluring to her now that a couple of months had passed, or would her girlhood crush come to naught? She was excited and terrified to learn the answer.
“Here we are,” said Dervish as he continued on past his office and headed for the door to a broom closet.
“What, did you hire me to be the maid, then?” Felicity asked with an uncertain frown.
“Of course not, lassie,” he chuckled. “Give me yer wand for a moment, and all shall be revealed.”
Felicity reluctantly handed Dervish her wand, and watched as he traced a pattern in the wall in the shape of a large rectangle. When he was finished, he put the wand back in her hand and motioned for her to repeat the action.
“Look at it,” he said proudly as she went. “A well-crafted spell is a beautiful thing. The room seems ordinary enough to anyone who doesna know its true purpose.”
When Felicity had completely traced the rectangular shape, a loud cracking noise issued from the edges, and the wall began to break free, leaving a large opening in its place. Felicity was momentarily blinded by a bright light that emanated from somewhere inside before she could look to see what the doorway concealed beyond the wall.
At first it just looked like a few rows of tall, neatly arranged bookshelves. She read a few of the titles she saw there: ‘Magic in Real World Application’, ‘Advanced Spell Design’, ‘The Veil, an Ecological Issue’.
“Dinna bother with reading anything right now, lassie,” Dervish admonished her. “I’m quite certain ye’ll get plenty of time for thot later. Lancelot must be wondering where we are by now.”
“Yes, beyond a doubt,” she agreed, and felt an eagerness wash over her, both to see the wizard in question, and to see—well, whatever it was she was about to see.
“Now remember, I’ve placed a charm inside yer wand to open thot doorway,” he told her. “Ye must always keep yer wand safe from here on out, and ye must always remember to close the door behind ye, like this.”
Dervish waved his own wand, and all the fragments that had pieced away as the portal opened were instantly back in place. Felicity flicked her wand a few times, opening and closing the doorway. She wanted to be sure she had a good feel for it.
“How do ye do it so fast, lass?” Dervish inquired as he watched her. “It takes everyone else twice the time to do the task.”
“I’m not sure, really,” she admitted. “I’ve always been really good with locks and doors and such. There’s never been a door that I couldn’t open.”
“Aye, including my own,” he agreed with a slight grimace. “Perhaps ye’ve got a bit of the Fae in ye. But rememb
er, I want ye to use yer powers only to the good from now on. No more opening doors thot ye are not meant to be opening, especially the doors in here. There are many wondrous things inside this place, and not all of them are as tame as a young girl such as yerself would like.”
“Oh, Dervish, I can take care of myself,” she grumbled with a slight blush. “I’m a big girl now.”
Dervish chortled derisively as he cast a glance at her smallish form. “Just heed my warning in this, Felicity. Within these walls lie all sorts of magical artifacts and Grimoires, not all of them good. They are here so thot people who would use them to commit deeds most foul dinna lay their hands upon them.”
“Why keep a book around if you can’t even read the thing? It seems a real waste of time and space to me,” Felicity scoffed.
“There are more to books than just the spine and the contents, Miss Lake,” he explained. “Some books can have parts thot try to get out on their own, and those books need to be watched. Thot being said, ye may now enter the real Museum, as no one but a very few can ever see.”
“My goodness! You have an Unveiling fountain right here in the middle of the room?” Felicity gasped as she spotted the large pool of which she spoke. They stepped further into the cavernous chamber, and she walked right up to it. “There are only supposed to be four portals to Mundania in all of England. I never dreamed there was another one hidden in here.”
The magical fountain of water appeared deceptively calm to the untrained eye, but in truth was one of the most powerful objects in their world. It was, of course, possible to enter and exit the two worlds without using it, but the device made doing so much quicker and allowed the user to immediately travel to anywhere in the world that they wished to go.
Felicity examined the three stones that operated the speed and severity of the unveil spell that the object was meant to enhance. The first was an emerald, the second was a ruby, and the third was a sapphire. The most important one was the ruby, as she knew from all the times she and her aunt had used such a device in their own travels between the two worlds.
Dragon's Eye Page 6