Dragon's Eye

by Robin Joy Wirth

  He and Felicity were high atop a craggy mountain, shaking their fists at a stormy sky. A huge and terribly beautiful dragon soared above them, periodically swooping down to taunt them.

  Lancelot kept Felicity close to him, not willing to let her go. He was sworn to protect her, but more than that, his heart was hers as well. He’d be damned if anyone or anything would take her from him.

  Another larger dragon appeared beside the first, and the two of them swooped down together. Each dragon took one of the humans, and then they flew in opposite directions.

  “Felicity!” Lancelot screamed in a rage, but there was nothing he could do to stop the beasts from having their way. “Please, please don’t take her from me! I cannot lose her!”

  The dragon who had been carrying him suddenly let go, and Lancelot fell slowly back to the ground. He sat cross-legged in the dirt and held his head in his hands, gnashing his teeth in frustration.

  “It’s all right, Lance,” said an elf who suddenly stood by his side. “You must calm yourself. Felicity is all right.”

  Lance turned and looked at the figure beside him, and he realized with a start of surprise that this particular elf was known to him. He was Laenos, the elf who had taken away his former wife.

  “What are you doing in my dream?” he growled as he looked at him. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  “I’m here to tell you something important, Jones,” he insisted. “I know that you are frightened, but you must believe my words. Felicity isn’t going anywhere, you know. Everything is going to be fine.”

  “How do I know your words are true?” he asked in an accusing tone. “How do I know she will not become unfaithful someday as well?”

  “One never knows anything for certain, even the greatest of the seers,” Laenos reminded him. “The future is always in motion, and thus cannot be known.”

  “I don’t want her to go,” Lance wailed. “I don’t want to lose her, too.”

  “I do not believe this would be your fate, Jones, yet I must remind you that fate is all a matter of the choices we make. If you make the right ones, all will turn out as you desire.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance grumbled. “Was it my choice when Meryl left me and went to you? Did I suddenly decide I no longer wanted her?”

  “In a way you did, yes,” he said. “Meryl once told me that she could no longer stand to be held back because of you. She said that you clung too tightly to allow her to breathe. If you truly want this girl, you must remember my words, and try not to do the same thing to her.”

  “She told you that I was holding too tight?” asked Lance in confusion. “But why would she tell you that? I never stopped her from getting a job, or told her she could not go somewhere if she wished. How was I holding too tight?”

  “Because you expected her to live as your shadow instead of as your partner,” said the elf sagely. “If you heed my words and give your Felicity the room she needs to become the witch that she is meant to be, she will always return to you.”

  “What do you know about it?” Lancelot growled. “You once stole what was mine. I do not want you in my head, elf. I do not wish to be reminded of a past that cannot be changed.”

  “I will trouble you no more,” he said, “But I hope you will heed my words.”

  “I will try,” he answered, and watched as the elf became a ray of blue light and floated away.

  Lance awakened with a start. Felicity was asleep beside him, and without any hesitation he pulled her into his arms. He smiled as the sorrow he had once known dissolved into nothingness in the dark.

  This little witch must be something special, he thought as he drifted off to sleep again. Why else would an elf bother himself to come to his dreams? Laenos may owe him a debt because he’d taken Meryl, but it was not the way of elves to enter dreams for nothing.

  He truly wanted to believe that all would be well with them. But he knew that first they must contend with a very real dragon, and survive to tell the tale.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “Wake up, my dear,” said Lance as he stirred a few hours later. “We’ve got to discuss the next leg of this journey as we prepare to get out of the train in Geneva.”

  Felicity groggily looked at him, and blushed to realize she must have rolled over and curled her leg over his as she’d slept. She said, “What do you mean, discuss? We’re getting out and heading for the mountains, aren’t we? What’s to discuss?”

  “Yes, of course we’re heading for the mountains, love,” he said with a cheeky grin. “But there’s the small matter of precisely where we ought to go from there.”

  “Well, one might imagine we’d head south,” she pointed out, sitting up beside him and taking the blanket with her. Lance shivered slightly, but he did not try to retrieve it.

  “Well, certainly, but we know only that we are seeking one of the mountains in this region,” he explained. “I’ve no clue specifically where the bloody temple once stood, nor the exact appearance of anything that might mark the site in any way.”

  “What, do you mean like a symbol or something?” asked Felicity with interest as she jumped out of bed and pulled her book out of her pack. “Why didn’t you say so? Perhaps if you can tell me more about the Grimoire Draconis I could figure it out.”

  “I only know that during one of the Crusades, the Templars were hiding the existence of the shrine and all of its knowledge of dragons from the Pope,” he said as he stretched. “You know well enough how the Church felt about the use of magic and witchcraft back then, what with it being the main reason the Magi went into hiding completely. So, it will likely be a hidden symbol of some kind, to be sure no one who would be considered unworthy could find it.”

  “Hmm, you mean nobody who did not possess the gift, don’t you? It sounds so much nicer to say it that way,” Felicity pondered. “However, there may be even more to it than that. Maybe we should consider what sort of a symbol might be used by the dragons themselves, rather than just what sort of symbol the Mundanes might think was bad. Good thing we’ve brought some climbing gear, in case we need to make use of it.”

  Lance’s faced soured at this, and Felicity laughed. “What did I say, Lance? You look as though you just tasted your first pickle.”

  “You’re not really going to make me use the ropes to climb, are you?” he complained. “I think I’d far rather have the pickle than that.”

  “Sure I am,” she chuckled as she pat his shoulder. “We’re supposed to be acting like Mundanes, are we not? What better way than to pull ourselves up some mountain or other?”

  “But it would be so much easier to fly, my dear,” he pointed out. “And much less messy as well.”

  “That’s true,” she agreed, “but where is the adventure in that?”

  “We’ll have to discuss it later, I suppose,” Lance said. “For now, we must make certain that all of our belongings are packed up.”

  “Ugh, that sounds like too much work. Can’t we sleep a bit longer first?” she grumbled as she fell back onto the bed beside him.

  Lance rolled over and slid a hand across her belly as he kissed the side of her head, and then said into her ear, “Well, little miss adventurer, we don’t have much time before we arrive at the Geneva station. You’re not going to have much of an adventure just lying there as we pass the place by—at least, not the kind of adventure we were planning on.”

  “Lance!” she gasped, and then she gasped a second time when he bit the ear he’d been speaking into. Felicity sprang back up to get away from him.

  “I rather thought that might do the trick,” he chuckled with a wicked grin, then got to his own feet as well. “I’m going to make certain we remember everything, if you don’t mind,” he announced.

  He pulled out his wand and gave it a swish. A couple of stray items returned to their backpacks, and then they magically slung themselves onto the Mages, one on Lance’s shoulder and the other on Felicity’s.

  “C
heating,” Felicity admonished him sweetly.

  “Felicity Lake, what kind of wizard do you take me for? I never cheat,” he retorted as he bent to kiss her on the forehead. “You’re just imagining things.”

  “If I was going to imagine something, I could think of far better things than that,” she told him.

  “Of that, my dear, I have no doubt,” he replied. He drew her into his arms and kissed her forehead again, and then trailed a path of feather-light kisses down to her chin, stopping only briefly when he’d reached her upturned lips, and then returning to them when he’d completed the journey.

  Starting from where his lips touched, Felicity felt a slow heat begin to enter her limbs, making her entire body feel alive with a longing for more. Then, as the train began to slow, her body swayed slightly, making her lose her balance.

  Lance’s hand shot out to steady her as they headed for the exit, closing the cabin door behind them with a slight snapping sound as the lock engaged. Then they proceeded towards the front of the train.

  “Geneva!” called the porter just as they reached the end of the long, narrow hallway.

  “Here,” said Lance as he waved at the man. He shook his hand and thanked him as they both stepped off and headed for the small structure they saw a few feet away. No one else got out of the train, and soon it whistled and moved on again, leaving them standing there in the darkness of the night.

  Stepping over to a small cubicle with an array of pamphlets inside, Felicity picked up a map and held it under a street lamp to get a better look at it. She glanced up when she noticed that Lance was watching her rather intently, and she blushed slightly under the scrutiny.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked.

  “You look good under the moonlight,” he told her appreciatively, making Felicity stare at the map even harder to hide her embarrassment.

  “It looks like there’s a campsite about three kilometers that way,” she told him as she pointed to a nearby road. “We could trek over there and sleep till daylight, if you like.”

  “Three kilometers that way?” he drawled with amusement at the casual way she’d said it. “You sound as if you’ve done this sort of thing before.”

  Felicity cast him a withering glance, and he gazed innocently back at her. She folded the map up again.

  “Well, my dear, lead the way then,” he said. “And it might be a good idea to bring that map along with you. The thing may prove useful for our search.”

  “Yes, that’s probably a good idea,” she agreed as she tucked it into her pack. “Maybe you should slip in a little donation for it in that box, though. It only seems fair.”

  Lancelot glanced over at the small slot in the wall that allowed enough room to put in both coins and bills. His expression growing dubious, he inquired, “How much does one donate for the use of a map, anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Just throw in a few euros or something.”

  Lance dutifully slid in a few bills, and turned back toward the road, squinting. “So, how long do you suppose it takes to walk three kilometers? I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure.”

  Felicity laughed. “I don’t know. I suppose it would depend on the company you were walking with—and the mood. Perhaps it might help to occupy the time if we were to sing songs or something.”

  “Sing songs?” Lance inquired blandly as he raised a brow in her direction.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “I remember that when I was little, before my parents were killed in that ill-fated battle with a dragon, my father loved to pass the time by singing.”

  “Pray tell, what sort of song does one sing to walk three kilometers?” he asked, the smirk on his lips finally escaping his control.

  “Well, I don’t know, maybe something repetitive would do,” she answered, but then she laughed and grabbed at a stitch in her side.

  “What is so funny, Miss Lake?” Lance insisted, laughing along with her.

  “Sea shanties?” she suggested. “My father used to love them. Do you know any?”

  “My darling girl,” he grinned. “I know a few of those that could make your ears burn right off.”

  “You would,” she scoffed as she started to head for the road. “But I think we had better sing the ones that I would know too.”

  In a smooth, velvety baritone voice, Lancelot began to sing, “Let’s go find the camp, my pretty witch lady, let’s go find the camp and bed down on some grass. Let’s go find the camp, my sweetest witch lady, and if there’s some time might I get me some—”

  “Lancelot Jones, I told you not to sing the naughty ones!” Felicity gasped, and she turned and swatted him right on the backside before she scooted quickly away.

  Laughing, Lance tried to swat her back. Felicity squealed and ran away from him up the road.

  “Oh yes, love, we should get there much sooner this way,” he chuckled as he stalked after her. “Much sooner, indeed.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  About an hour or so later, Lance and Felicity came to the entrance to the Mundane campsites they’d been looking for. A tired-looking man took the money required for their admittance, and told them they had the pick of the park, since only a few other guests were there.

  “Mind you be quiet, however,” he added as he recalled them laughing as they approached. “It’s the middle of the night, and some folks don’t like it when you disturb their slumber.”

  “Of course, sir,” Lance agreed. “I’m certain that I wouldn’t like it, either.”

  As they walked, hand in hand, down the dirt road, they glanced here and there at some of the sites, but it was not until they reached one beside a creek that bubbled along its way to the lake just beyond that they finally chose a spot. The moon shone down, making the idyllic scene even more inviting.

  “All right, Lance, you go and gather some wood while I clear the pit, and then we can make a nice little fire.” There was just enough light for Felicity to see Lance pull a face as she said this, making her chuckle. “What’s wrong with that idea?”

  “You mean as in rub a couple of sticks together?” he said with a mock cringe.

  “Oh, that’s right,” she giggled. “You did say that you wanted to be the one who rubbed the sticks together, didn’t you?”

  “Imp,” he grumbled as he tweaked her nose. “Don’t think that I’ve forgotten about owing you a swat or two on your sweet backside, witch. And I fully intend to collect.”

  “Well hey, you never have been able to catch me to administer them, that’s hardly my fault,” she answered with outrageous bravado. “Now go find some sticks and I’ll show you how to rub them the right way.”

  “Really?” he asked as he pulled her into his arms and nibbled at her lips. “So, you think I don’t know how to rub things the right way, eh?”

  “Lance!” she squealed, though she tried to keep her voice low as she did so. She pushed at his chest, both attempting to get away and not to at the same time.

  “Mm, have I finally caught you then, or is it just that you’ve decided to surrender?”

  “Neither!” she answered bravely, then chuckled. “Both,” she amended, and leaned up to give him a kiss. “Find wood.”

  Then she pushed him towards the trees and swatted his arse again.

  “Ha, you just wanted to lure me into your evil web of deceit, didn’t you, Felicity?” he called back as he went. “I’ll know better than to trust your more tender advances after this.”

  With a merry laugh, Felicity turned away and did a quick assessment of the campsite. She cleared debris out of the area near the fire pit, and then pulled the sleeping bags out of their packs.

  Biting at her lower lip in indecision, Felicity could not make up her mind whether to pile the two sleeping bags one on top of the other as she wished, or set them apart from one another.

  If she put them together, would Lance think that she was being blatantly forward? Would he think it was an invitation to show her his rotter, or would he th
ink the gesture was simply the attempt at being romantic she believed it to be? She had no idea how the minds of males worked concerning such things.

  To compromise, she decided to drop the two sleeping bags and some blankets into a pile so they looked like she hadn’t gotten around to arranging them yet. But then she thought this through. She was always known for being thorough and efficient, as Lance well knew. He would see right through something that lame.

  She next laid them side by side, close but not quite touching, and gave a dissatisfied frown. She didn’t really want to put them that way. She really wanted to create a cozy little nest that the two of them could share. Would it be so wrong if she did?

  After all, it was just the two of them alone out here, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t as if she was trying to deter him from being naughty with her, either. She rather liked the thought that he would be willing to try.

  Before she could make up her mind to move the sleeping bags together, however, Lancelot returned from the woods with his sticks in hand. He glanced down at the two bed rolls as he dropped the wood, and casually stretched as he went to stand beside them.

  Pretending that it was an accident, Lancelot used one of his feet to flip one sleeping bag on top of the other. Felicity laughed at him, and he cast her an innocent smile.

  Then she stepped over and plopped down on top of the pile. She wriggled around a bit until she’d found a comfortable spot, and burrowed into it with a satisfied sigh.

  “Hm, this seems much comfier this way,” she commented dryly. “Guess we’ll just have to leave it like this, eh?”

  “Undoubtedly,” Lancelot agreed, winking at her. Then he hunkered down beside the fire pit and began to pull up tufts of grass from a nearby patch.

  Felicity watched as he gathered the grass along with some moss that he’d found in the woods into a pile, pleased to see he’d thought of it on his own. Not every witch or wizard knew about the usefulness of kindling when making a fire. It was refreshing to keep company with someone who did.