Dragon's Eye

by Robin Joy Wirth

  “Come with me, then,” he said, taking her hand. “You can't really alphabetize the things in this wing, yet still they must be organized. These are the artifact rooms, and they will prove much more of a challenge to you. Some of these items cannot be placed anywhere near each other, or the properties of one might well combine with the other in powerful and as yet unknown ways. It's not something it would be wise to experiment with, so for the sake of safety I shall need to remain here with you. Perhaps together we'll figure something out.”

  They had entered one large, well-lit room as he was speaking, and Felicity stopped short in awe as she looked around. Objects of every size and description were piled in various areas, she assumed by magical type. There were wands and talismans and hats and cloaks and very ancient-looking books and who even knew what else. Much of the wall space was covered with lockers and vaults where the various items were meant to be housed.

  “I can see why you neglected the books, with all of this stuff just laying around,” she replied. “We ought to be dealing with these things immediately.”

  “Don't look so worried, Felicity,” he chuckled. “The nastiest toys have been dealt with as they arrived. Most of what's left here has been deemed somewhat benign. Though you must still have a care.”

  Felicity nodded, and she stepped forward to examine some of the items in the closet pile. Before she knew it, several hours had gone by, and now she and Lance were both looking tired and sweaty thanks to all their activity as they moved things around. She was startled to realize the windows no longer let in any daylight.

  Lance caught at her elbow before she tried to pick out yet another item to archive. “I've kept you longer than I'd intended, my dear. I believe we should call it a night. And I insist on seeing you home this time. If there are to be any troublemakers about, they usually show up after dark.”

  “Troublemakers?” Felicity smirked. “You mean someone would dare to cause trouble for the famous Lancelot Jones? I'm quite shocked, sir. I didn't think it was possible.”

  He caught her chin in his hand and gave her face a little squeeze. “What you must think of me,” he said, grinning. “I am not invulnerable, Miss Lake. But I confess, I try to be.”

  Felicity blushed and looked away. “I didn't mean it quite that way. I know better than to think all the gossip is to be believed.”

  “Come along, then,” he said, raising his wand and bringing her back to the secret wall, which they soon passed through. It didn't take much longer before they'd popped back over to the apartments where she now lived, though he had to stop near the entrance gate since he had no idea which rooms were now hers.

  “I believe I can safely leave you here, if you'd like,” he said, smiling. “Pray tell, which of the units is yours, so that I might see to the task more properly in future?”

  “Unit Nine,” she supplied.

  “And have you remembered to stock your larder yet, my dear?” he asked with concern. “I do not think you had the time.”

  “I haven't,” she admitted, blushing.

  “Perhaps I have one more task before we end this night,” he replied. “I shall return directly with a few supplies. And don't give me that look, either. You're my responsibility, and I shall be obliged to do the thing right. Though, you may come along if you'd like.”

  A brisk wind kicked up around them, and Lancelot’s face fell. Abruptly, he looked worriedly up at the sky, and then he grasped Felicity by her shoulders and quickly opened the gate, setting her inside.

  “I fear my plans tonight keep changing rapidly,” he said with a sigh. “Go into your rooms and remain there, Miss Lake. I’ve a couple of other issues to address, and I shall tend to your food supply as soon as I may, but it’s no longer safe for you outside tonight.”

  “What’s happening, Lance?” she asked him with a worried frown.

  “Don’t concern yourself, Felicity,” he insisted, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Please, just get safely inside. The less I fear for you, the easier I’ll be able to deal with the situation. Everything will be taken care of, you may rest assured. I’ll return with your supplies within the hour, all right?”

  “Fine,” Felicity sighed. She turned and hurried inside, but not without realizing a sensation of foreboding that tingled all down her spine at the thought that Lancelot could be in danger. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t shake it as she shut her door.

  When she had gone to work that morning, she had left her old school bag sitting by the fireplace, and inside the book that had called to her remained. Looking over at the bag now, she saw that it had begun to glow from something within, and Felicity didn’t need to think too hard to figure out the cause.

  “What on earth,” she grumbled, stepping over to peer inside. She tugged out the small, reddish tome and saw that it wasn’t the whole book shining, but only the etching of the dragon’s eye at its center.

  “I know you wish to tell me something,” she said with a sigh. “I just wish I knew what it was.”

  She brought the book with her to the couch and cracked it open, more than willing to learn about the magic and lore of dragons for a time. The pages felt smooth and warm, and she was drawn in, almost mesmerized, until finally she began to doze.

  When she awakened, Lance was kneeling by her side. “Felicity? Hey, Felicity?” he whispered near her ear. “Your meal has arrived.”

  But when she barely stirred, Lance stood up and sighed. Brushing her hair out of her face, he whispered, “Have a good night.”

  When she finally awakened, hours later, she discovered that her book had fallen onto the floor, and now a little table was sitting beside the sofa. On it, she found a piece of chocolate pie.

  “How did he know?” she whispered with a contented sigh.

  SIXTEEN

  The next day, Felicity was right back to sorting through the books until lunchtime, but this time she came searching for Lance in the break room. They ate a quiet meal together near the fireplace, which Lance had been obliged to light since it had grown cold outside.

  “How did your trouble turn out last night?” she asked conversationally. “It would appear that you survived.”

  “There are certain persons, of whom we rarely speak, with powers quite foul,” Lance grumbled. “I suspect he was only following us around to see where we might go, but that prospect does not sit well with me. Word of your new position within the museum has surely traveled by now.”

  “And why should that matter to this man?” she wanted to know.

  “Felicity, listen to me. You must be careful of strangers from now on. There are those who would do anything to get inside this museum's walls, even if it meant somehow involving you in that attempt,” he said, covering her hand with his own. “Do you understand? I would not wish you to fall to harm.”

  Felicity nodded. “A young woman alone in her home? Of course I am going to be careful. I'm surprised you didn't already know.”

  Lance asked, “Felicity? How did you do in dueling class back at school? I should like to help you hone those skills. You might need them, working around here.”

  “I was at the top of my class, actually,” she said, her eyes widening with interest. “It was something I really enjoyed doing.”

  Lance smiled. “Well, then, how about enjoying it with me? Three sets, shall we say?”

  “What, you want to duel right now?”

  “Of course,” he said, smirking. “Why else would I be asking?”

  “Where are we to duel, sir?” she asked curiously. “I don't see a runway.”

  Lancelot flicked his wand, and the far wall of the room suddenly stretched and disappeared. Where the kitchen stood a moment ago, now stood a long, wide arena. Both Lance and Felicity were suddenly wearing long, flowing white robes, and their hair flowed freely down their backs.

  Felicity laughed. “Someone has a flair for the dramatic, I see.”

  “I hope you're ready, Miss Lake,” Lancelot grinned slyly. “I don't inten
d to show you any mercy.”

  “Dramatic, and much too confident for your own good,” she added as she began to walk to the other side of the arena. “Perhaps I'd best take you down a peg or two.”

  “That's the spirit,” said Lance appreciatively. “Something tells me that at long last I've found an opponent who is worthy. Don't disappoint me, my dear.”

  Felicity fought hard, with each of them winning one set. The third battle was the fiercest, and quite close. She was almost certain she was about to win, but of course the final set went to Lance. However, he did seem suitably impressed by her skills.

  “You are the most amazing young woman,” he told her, smiling. “Even Dervish himself does not fight so well. I believe his concerns about you protecting yourself are sorely misplaced. You'll be able to hold your own quite well.”

  “Thank you, Master Jones,” she replied. “Coming from a wizard like you, that is a real compliment indeed.”

  For a few weeks it went on that way, with most of Felicity’s day spent on books, and a small part of the afternoon spent with Lancelot, determining where to store the artifacts, dueling, or selecting useful topics to study together. During that time, the two formed an uneasy sort of friendship between them, both of them wishing for more, but neither wishing to be the one to say so.

  At night, Felicity stayed awake for hours, just staring off into space. It helped to spend some time talking to Penelope during the evenings, but whenever she lay down at night, her bed seemed much emptier than she’d ever imagined a bed could be. She could not ignore the ache of longing in her heart.

  For his part, Lance often returned to the museum while Felicity was not there, just to be near the place he knew she’d been. He felt like a pathetic little puppy that hankered after a bone he wanted, but could not figure out how to reach it. The shower in the break room’s bathroom got used a great deal more often, but as for the hot water, he never touched the knob.

  Then came the day that Felicity accidentally opened the wrong containment portal while they were working in the artifacts room, and out popped a huge, nasty troll. He reared his big, ugly head and let out a roar of outrage.

  “Back up slowly, Felicity,” Lancelot cautioned, holding out his hand to her. “We’re going to need to put him back, I’m afraid. We can’t have him running about wrecking the place.”

  Quick as a flash, Felicity turned her wand in a peculiar manner, and the troll popped right back in where he’d come from. The doorway slammed shut with a resounding click. Lance stood there staring at her as if he’d just seen a ghost.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she asked him with some amusement.

  “How did you do that?” he asked. “Last time that blighter got out, it took me a week to get him back in again.”

  “I don’t know, I guess I’m just lucky that way.”

  “Luck has little to do with it, Felicity,” he said, halfway in awe. “That had to have been pure skill.”

  “Stop it,” she said with a blush, but Lancelot came over and gave her hand a squeeze.

  “I mean it,” he told her. “I’ve never seen anything like that, ever. And I work with spells every day.”

  “What do you say we put away a few more things, and call it a night?” she asked, suddenly feeling quite tired.

  “After what you just did, my dear, perhaps we should call it a night right now.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The day after the incident with the troll, Felicity arrived to work and found that Lancelot was nowhere to be found. Never one to shirk her duties, she simply headed for the books and began to sort them as usual.

  She couldn’t help but think about Lancelot as she worked, however. He was by far the most handsome wizard she knew, and every time he came anywhere near her, her heart still sped up until she thought he would hear it beating.

  If someone asked her, she couldn’t put her finger on just one thing about Lancelot Jones that she liked best. He was handsome, of course, but he was also very smart, and he knew about many things she’d never dreamed of, which was definitely saying something considering the vast amount of knowledge she’d gathered over her lifetime.

  He could recite facts and figures, just as though he were reading them from a book. He was constantly to be seen examining broken items and figuring out how to fix them. And best of all, he never picked on her when she gave an opinion that differed from his own.

  Felicity loved the way his eyes followed her as she walked beside him, as though she were too enticing to be ignored. By the gods, she wished that were the truth. That Lancelot Jones had as much trouble ignoring her as she had ignoring him.

  It made her so damned hot, just thinking of those beautiful eyes of his, how their greenish depths darkened as he gazed at her sometimes.

  What did it mean, the way he watched her? What was the man thinking when he did that? What chance could there be that someday he might reveal those thoughts to her?

  Of course, on an instinctual level, Felicity knew the wizard desired her—he touched her for no particular reason often enough to make that clear. But what she wasn’t sure of was if she was the only woman he treated in that manner, or if he simply enjoyed the fairer sex and thought she was a particularly good representation of it.

  “Perhaps it’s not quite as complicated as it seems. Maybe I’m just over-analyzing the entire situation,” she muttered, then gave a heavy sigh and sat down on a tall pile of books to take a break. She leaned her head in her hands and covered her face, so she did not see Dervish approaching her until he spoke.

  “There ye are, Miss Lake,” came his heavy accent as the man himself flew into view, wand held high. “I wondered where ye’d gotten yerself off to. Ye’ll be needed in the front office, lassie. Official museum business. Lancelot is already there waiting for us.”

  “What’s going on, Dervish?” asked Felicity as she raised her wand and followed him out. The two of them traversed the hall and reached the exit within a manner of seconds as their conversation continued.

  “News has reached my ears of a most urgent nature,” he explained. “Are ye at all familiar with any of the legends of the dragons, Miss Lake?”

  With a twinge of surprise, Felicity answered, “Why yes, as a matter of fact they have recently become one of my specialties, you might say.”

  “Excellent, my dear,” he said with a grin. “And had ye not told me that ye had some dealings with a dragon in the past?”

  “Well yes, but what has any of that got to do with your news?” Felicity inquired.

  “I was pleased to find that ye had repaired the Unveiling Fountain as we discussed. I just tested it out yesterday, lassie, and it works perfectly, by the way,” he explained. “However, while I was out and about I ran across an old nemesis of mine who seemed very interested in one of the ancient legends concerning a dragon.”

  “A nemesis, sir?” she smirked.

  “Well, I canna think of a better description,” he shrugged. “But while we dined together, he spoke of a particular Grimoire, the likes of which hasna been seen by human eyes for centuries unnumbered. And I know Crat well enough by now to ascertain that where an interest is expressed, there is always the danger that his search has already begun. I fear that if he should find the book, he would use it for purposes we wouldna care to dream of. The only way to prevent that must be to find it first.”

  “Where is the Grimoire now?” Felicity wanted to know.

  “Somewhere in the mountains of southern France,” he said. “For the most part, I believe it should be a fairly easy mission. At least, it will be until ye actually find the place. Then ye might have to contend with the dragon there in order to obtain the book, but for someone with yer particular skills I dinna think it would pose much of a problem.”

  “So it’s just a quick jaunt down south for a bit of adventure, and then back to the books, you say?” she clarified.

  “Oh yes, lass, I think it should be smooth sailing all the way.”

  “
Well then, what are we waiting for?” Felicity teased as they landed outside the office door.

  Stepping inside, they found Lance seated near the window, using the daylight to read the newspaper he held in his hands. Felicity glanced at the cover page and recognized it by the name printed there, ‘The Meandering Way’. It was a paper largely dedicated to the chaos theory in practice.

  “Ah, Master Jones, I see you are busily looking for ways to wreak havoc,” she teased him cheerfully. “What manner of naughtiness has that magazine set forth for your delectation this week?”

  “Miss Felicity,” he nodded in greeting, then continued his reading for a few more moments. “Nothing of great import, I’m sorry to say. And I had so hoped to read about a grand adventure.”

  “But are we not about to have a grand adventure of our own?” she pointed out with a small smile.

  “Indeed, yes,” he agreed. “It shall be lovely to get out and about while the sun is still shining, for once winter arrives I hardly think we’ll have the same desire to do so.”

  “You’re very right about that,” she agreed. “But only think, winter is not so bad when you’ve a good book to curl up with.”

  Lancelot laughed. “Hoping to read the little tome when we’ve returned with it, I see.”

  “Why bother to go get it if I can’t discover what all the fuss is about? Besides, dragons are a special interest of mine. I’ve unfinished business where they are concerned.”

  Lance gave her a curious look when she said this. Felicity did not elaborate.

  “Come over here, both of ye,” said Dervish as he used his wand to roll a huge globe out for them to look at. He flicked his wand to light up the area he was talking about as he continued.

  “By reading all the legends concerning the dragon known as Amaranth, I have determined that the probable location of the twice-cursed dragoness and her Grimoire Draconis. It will lie somewhere in this region, here, within the mountain range. Ye will, of course, have to figure out precisely where by means I dinna yet ken. Thot will be for the two of ye to discover.”