Dragons and Witches

by Madeline Smoot

  “Welcome home, Grandfather Lafee.”

  Sarah Lyn Eaton is a writer fond of magical realism and dystopias. She has previously published the stories “The White Sisters” in What Follows and “Hold the Door” in The Northlore Series, Volume 1: Folkore, as well as “Jar of Pickles” in the anthology One Thousand Words for War.

  The Pendragon Crystal

  Kath Boyd Marsh

  “Are we the only ones up?” Morgan scanned the kitchen then stared at the old wizard. When he realized Myrlin was using magic, he almost forgot why he needed to talk to the Master Wizard alone. Since their arrival in the human realm six months ago, Myrlin had used no magic at all. Day by day he’d seemed to grow more and more like the confused old man he pretended to be for the humans on this plane.

  The wizard flicked a hand at a drawer and the cupboard, sending spoons and bowls to settle on the counter for the twins when they came into the kitchen. Two plates plunked down next to the frying pan on the stove. Where Morgan’s mother would sit for a hurried breakfast, a coffee cup already steamed beside a container of yogurt.

  “For now it’s only us.” Myrlin hummed as he worked. Which was part of the problem. The wizard shouldn’t be this relaxed. These past six months in the human 21st century were only a week in the Dragon Realm. A week, was plenty of time for Uthur’s soldiers to find Morgan and his family.

  When Uncle Uthur had captured Morgan’s father, Myrlin had gathered Morgan and the rest of his family, and they’d escaped from the palace. As soon as they’d all arrived in his crystal cave, Myrlin had ignored them all, sending rocks lifting and panels of crystals sliding while he hunted for something. “Help me, boy. We need the Pendragon Crystal to take back your father’s throne.”

  Morgan scanned the crystal-encrusted walls of the cave. “I never heard of it. Not one of these, then?”

  Myrlin had laughed. “Of course not.” He’d thumped his head. “Of course NOT! We must go.”

  Morgan’s mother, always the patient one, laid a slender dragon paw on the wizard’s arm slowing his frantic pace. “Where do we need to go?”

  “Away, of course. Long, long away. It’s where I’d be if I were the crystal.” Myrlin smiled and snapped his fingers. A purple stone appeared. “Crystal finder,” he’d said. “Now a spell to send us on our way and bring us back successfully.” He began the chant, having signaled Morgan, his mother, and his twin sisters Elaine and Evangeline to hold paws in a circle ending and beginning with Myrlin, the most powerful wizard ever.

  But his chant was only half-finished when the cave shook, sending them all to their knees. “Into human form at once!” Myrlin yelled. They shifted from royal dragons as he added, “And we are Gone!”

  With that, they were indeed gone from the cave. Four dragons and a wizard stood in human form in a human house, in the human 21st century, the house they had now lived in for the past six months in Grove Township.

  “We have to talk,” Morgan started again, staring at Myrlin like he could force the elderly wizard to focus.

  “Indeed? Do you wish your eggs and bacon crispy?” Myrlin cracked four eggs into a bowl and whirled a finger to beat them to a froth.

  “Myrlin, we’ve been here too long, and there’s no sign of this Pendragon Crystal. I don’t get why a dragon crystal would be in the human world, but you said it would be at the high school, but … nothing.” Morgan tried to take the bowl out of Myrlin’s hands, but the old man was surprisingly strong and kept hold of it.

  Myrlin grinned. “No sign of Uthur. Good, eh?”

  “No, not good. I need to get back. To save my father.” Morgan let go of the bowl and leaned against the counter.

  Myrlin snapped his fingers. Bacon flew out of the refrigerator and slapped into the heated pan. He turned to Morgan. “I am sorry. You won’t believe me, but your father is dead. Until you can return with an army, there is no point in going back. You, as the legitimate heir to the Dragon Realm, and your family would be slaughtered.” The wizard’s eyes had none of the fuzzy dreaminess they often held in this easy world of humans.

  Morgan knew through his last scale that Myrlin was right. It had been possible to deny that his father was dead as long as the wizard behaved like a distracted elderly human, but Myrlin’s old clarity was back, as was his keen logic. Uthur would never keep his brother Arthur alive.

  “So it will do no good to find the crystal?” Morgan said, watching fat bubble and dance above the frying pan. If there was one thing dragons loved, it was bacon.

  Myrlin turned and waved a hand over the splattering bacon, and the grease bounced off an invisible shield, raining back down into the pan. Morgan stood up straight. He had to make the wizard treat him like an adult. Talk to him.

  Morgan knew Myrlin was back to his pre-escape wizard self, because of this magic, the first he’d done since they’d arrived. If you didn’t count arranging for their home and neighbors who seemed to think the ‘Smythes’ had always lived in Grove Township. Of course you had to add in how easily Mother had gotten her job as crops supervisor for the Food for Life charity. It was the perfect job for his mother who would have overseen dragon farmers if the wife of the Dragon King was allowed such a job. If Morgan became King, he’d make sure all the old-fashioned rules about who could do what were broken.

  A part of Morgan felt like a traitor for adjusting so easily to life as a human high school junior. His natural dragon ability to swim made him the captain of the swim team a week after school had begun, and his good grades came naturally. He felt a bit guilty about how much he liked being around his new friend Chrys. Not that he had done anything about it, since feeling this way about a human female was totally forbidden.

  Myrlin waved at Morgan to sit, and he found himself plopped on his stool. The wizard’s eyes were hawk-bright when he said, “We will discuss everything this afternoon when you and I will have private time.”

  When Morgan objected, Myrlin waved a hand and continued, “Your sisters have their music lessons. Your mother will be late because of meetings with donors. And your swim practice will be cancelled.”

  Morgan did not argue. Myrlin was finally acting like the king’s counselor, the wizard who knew the future.

  “The Crystal will find you today,” Myrlin added then said in a louder voice, “How are my favorite dragonelles?” The elderly wizard’s loopy smile was back as Morgan’s twin sisters galloped into the kitchen. The pair, no matter how much trouble they might get into otherwise, were perfect princesses around their ‘uncle’ Myrlin. They loved him so much, maybe even more now that they thought he was just a regular old man and not a scary wizard. They rushed up to him, plastering kisses on his wrinkled cheeks and hugging him with all their little princess strength.

  Elaine wrinkled her nose. “I don’t eat meat!” She pointed at the bacon.

  Evangeline nodded.

  “Don’t worry, my little angels, your special cereal awaits.” He pointed to their bowls, and as they turned to clamber up on their stools, he started to wave his hand in his summoning-way, catching Morgan’s stare. Myrlin shook his head, dropped his hand, and waddled to the refrigerator to pull out milk to pour on the cereal.

  Morgan lifted an eyebrow. Whatever was happening was definitely just between Myrlin and him. For now the wizard continued not using magic in front of the rest of the family. Morgan wished they’d had another few minutes alone, so he could ask about the army Myrlin said was connected to the Crystal, the army to defeat his uncle. This afternoon seemed too long to wait to ask.

  Mother joined the breakfast group, and normal twin chaos reigned until she left for work. Morgan dropped the girls at their school before he drove on to Grove Township High.

  When Morgan saw Chrys, he forgot all about … everything. He couldn’t get words straight. Which was so messed up. He was a dragon prince hanging out in human form, and she was a human. There was no way he should want to date her. And now that Morgan hoped Myrlin was ready to drop the human act and really help find the
crystal, there would be no time for … anything.

  “Hi, Morgan,” Chrys said walking beside him as they headed to their Analytical Geometry class. “Did you meet the new guy?”

  There was something odd in her voice. She’d been mildly flirty before, but now the lightness in her tone was gone. Her question sounded too serious for her words.

  “No. Who?”

  “He’s joined the swim team. Funny name. Mordie Pendragon. Same as yours.” Her mouth snapped shut. “I mean unusual.” But her eyes were pinned on Morgan’s.

  As far as anyone knew here in the human realm, his last name was Smythe. No one should know he was a Pendragon. Before he could ask her how … a male as dark-haired as Morgan was blonde, and as tall as Morgan, who looked familiar and yet not, strode down the hall headed straight at them. The new guy had a smirk on his face. Shocked, Morgan kept his mouth snapped shut and his face as blank as possible. This human: his attitude, the dark gray eyes, the half moon birthmark, it was all a younger echo of the dragon Uthur, Morgan’s uncle and his father’s murderer. Had his cousin tracked him down?

  Morgan paid no attention to Chrys’s next words. Humans were no longer important. Time had run out. Uthur had sent his son to hunt Arthur’s son, and he had found him.

  But the first words out of Mordie’s mouth confused Morgan. He was focused on Chrys, not Morgan. “Well, if it isn’t the fair Chrys. Is this your boyfriend? I know you have one, or you would not have turned me down.” He grinned at her like this was a teasing joke, but when he looked at Morgan his eyes were cold.

  Mordred had to know. Morgan didn’t want to break out in dragon on dragon battle in front of humans. If Uthur’s son knew he had found the missing prince, Morgan would make sure Mordred also knew there was going to be a battle. He stepped forward. “I’m Morgan—”

  Chrys interrupted, stepping between the two males. “Smythe. I did mention a boyfriend, didn’t I? Did I say that we’d been sweet on each other since we were five?” She snagged Morgan’s hand. “He doesn’t like me to say, but when we were little our mothers put us in the same wading pool, both of us without a stitch of clothing!” She laughed like this was incredibly funny.

  Morgan was too surprised at her facile lie to speak. For months now they’d talked casually; flirting humans called it. But, boyfriend? He looked at Mordred, who wore a puzzled look as if he thought he was wrong about something.

  Had Mordred suspected he’d found Morgan, but human Chrys’s insistence she’d known Morgan for years convinced him that Morgan wasn’t … Morgan? Since dragons never used human form on the dragon plane, Mordred had no sure way to know Morgan’s human form was the prince dragon he sought.

  At the very least Chrys had confused Mordred. Why had she lied?

  Probably the special soap Myrlin made the family bathe in to cover the dragon scent had something to do with Mordred not realizing he’d found his prey. Apparently the soap didn’t just hide dragon scent from humans, but worked on other dragons. Human form or not, Morgan could definitely smell the sulfur of Mordred’s flame stomach. Which meant he had used his fire on something or someone and not long ago.

  This was not the time to hide. If Mordred was out torturing or killing to find Morgan, what kind of coward was Morgan if he hid? He’d face Uthur’s killer son.

  He started to shake Chrys’s hand free, but she held on harder, harder than he thought a human girl could grip. But that was probably because she was the best swimmer in the female events. She had to be strong. Deciding it might be a good idea to not create a confrontation that might set Mordred into full flaming battle mode, maybe turning the school to a smoldering pile of cinders, Morgan let Chrys drag him into the math classroom. He’d find a way to track Mordred and confront him where there wouldn’t be human casualties.

  But Mordred followed them, sitting in the lone empty seat on the other side of the room. Throughout class, Morgan slid looks at Mordred. Finally, Chrys scribbled a note, dropped it on the floor, and as she picked it up, stuffed it in Morgan’s sneaker. He would have laughed, but this was no time to attract Mr. Potvin’s attention. Morgan sneezed and managed to bend over far enough to retrieve the note. If their math teacher couldn’t figure out what they were up to, he really did need new glasses.

  Chrys had written: “We need to talk after school. Stop staring at Mordred! You’ll give yourself away!”

  Unable to stop himself, Morgan turned and stared at her. This was impossible. She knew about him? She knew about the real him?

  When Analytical Geometry was over, Morgan took Chrys’s arm and hissed in her ear. “I need to talk to you.”

  “No duh,” she said and walked with him. “You go in the boys locker room, I’ll go through the girls and meet you in Coach’s office. Wait for me. No matter what, don’t follow me!” She gave him a look as steely as his own father’s.

  Before he could ask, she speed-walked down the hall and took a turn the opposite direction from the locker rooms. Why was she headed straight for the pool entrance?

  When Mordred followed her, Morgan hesitated. He smelled the stench of killer flames on Mordred. He wanted Chrys dead? Morgan didn’t care what this female said, it was his duty as Prince Morgan to protect. He would not let his cousin do … anything.

  Morgan set off after the pair, but was stopped by the swim coach. Helpless to follow, he watched Mordred look both ways then follow Chrys through the pool doors.

  Coach put a hand out toward Morgan’s arm, then withdrew it. He knew it wasn’t because Coach sensed there were scales beneath the human skin, but that teacher-humans avoided touching pupils. For dragons personal touch was reserved for those you were closest to or trying to kill. And a bite could be fatal or grant an unchangeable bond and dragon-life to creatures other than dragons, the closest thing to eternal life.

  Coach’s words brought Morgan back to the moment. “Practice has been cancelled. Can you let the rest of the team know? I have to get busy rescheduling.”

  He nodded, but Coach was already shuffling files and trudging down the hall toward his office. There was no time; Morgan ran as fast as his human legs would allow. When he skidded through the pool doors, at first he didn’t see anyone. It was so silent the bubbles bursting from the pool aerator sounded like fireworks.

  Then shadows wavered beyond the far end of the pool where the overhead lights had gone out. He headed toward them. Halfway around the pool, a blast of light, maybe from Chrys’s cellphone, showed her backed up to a wall and Mordred morphed into his gray-scaled dragon form. There was no mistaking Mordred’s son in the dark gray sheen of scales only a shade lighter than his eyes.

  Mordred was going to kill the girl! There was no other way he’d reveal his dragon form, unless he meant to bite her and … claim her for his own. The problem was Mordred looked too calm for it to be murder. Dragons and humans did not mix, which was why Morgan fought his feelings for Chrys, but Mordred and his father had long been suspected of the Dark Magics. Would they want a human slave?

  When Mordred finally lunged at Chrys, Morgan roared and shifted into his red and purple scales. Myrlin would just have to deal with the mess of a human finding out. There was no way Morgan, Prince of the Dragon Realm, would let Uthur’s get kill or enslave a human right in front of him.

  Mordred jerked at the roar, and his eyes flared with a rim of killer red.

  Chrys yelled, “You fool!”

  Mordred whipped back to her, swept his tail and pulled her against his side. With a look of scarlet-glinting triumph, he clamped down on her neck.

  Morgan spewed flame, scorching Mordred’s back and making him jerk away from Chrys. She ducked and darted from him. Morgan watched her race up the bleachers and jump to the balcony. Satisfied that she was out of the dragon’s reach for the moment, he switched his attention back to Mordred.

  “Crap!” Mordred stalked along the pool deck, crimson glowing at his nostrils, his eyes now more than half red. “I knew it!” he growled. “The girl tried to confuse me, but
I knew it.”

  “Good for you,” Morgan said as he gathered his own fire to battle Mordred’s. Another reason for Myrlin to be angry: Morgan had let himself be tracked down. The question now was whether Mordred had come alone or had an army of Uthur’s soldiers come with him? And if they had, where were they? Morgan thought of his unaware family. “So you do this all by yourself? Or you got an army to back you up, coward?” He hoped to make his furious cousin spew out information.

  The gray dragon stopped ten yards away. That smirking smile pulled on Morgan’s sharp-fanged dragon snout. “Worried about your family, princeling?”

  “No. You got lucky finding me. No way you know where my family is.” But how had Mordred even come to Grove Township?

  “It’s my fault,” Chrys called. “He tracked me.”

  For a second Morgan tried to understand how tracking a human girl had helped Mordred. In that second, Mordred blasted flame so wide and tall there was no way to dodge it. There was only one defense. Morgan spit out the flame he had left to counteract the attack, but there hadn’t been enough time to replenish. His flame only shot out ten feet and died.

  A flash streaked in front of him. A pure silver dragon hovered between him and Mordred’s flames. Its wings spread wide, the Silver (one of the legendary warrior tribe that were pledged to no king and battled anyone who crossed them) took the blow of the flames and dropped to the pool deck.

  Morgan did not have time to rush to the silver dragon. He did not have flames. He had only the one thing he did better than any other dragon, and which he hadn’t done in six months. He flew. He flew as fast as he’d ever done in any of the tournament races. He pictured the speed of light and threw himself at Mordred before the other dragon could recharge his flame.

  Talons out, Morgan ripped Mordred’s gullet from snout to heart zone, and his cousin dropped like a sack of stones. The wound was not necessarily mortal; if he got back to the dragon realm fast enough, he could heal. But Mordred would not fight again for a long time.