“Ah, no. Wizarding stuff.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Umm. I can’t do spells and charms either. My power only lets me fly like the wind and spot things over a mile away…and a bit of power throwing at short range.” He looked up at her, pleading, “Don’t tell anyone. Only master knows.”
She stooped beside him and rubbed under his neck feathers. “I won’t. I understand. What you can do is very special, like me. We’ll make a good practice team, you and me.”
A roll of laughter caused them to look up. “You two look a sorry pair,” Cullen said. “A shivering maiden with no clothes but a slip and an owl with a crooked tail,” He shook his head. “…the two I’m relying on to face a host of mortal dangers.” He paused to chuckle again and kneeled next to them on the floor. “Lyra, a lesson…hold your palm lightly touching one of his bent feathers. Summon your inner fire and let it spill out through both the word ‘Repairo’ and your hand.”
“Fire from my mind, or heart, or both?” she asked, moving her hand over one of the injuries.
“Use that from your heart only in rare cases that require extra effort like last night; it’s very draining. Use from your mind most often.”
She followed his directions and forced the word out with her inner strength. “Repairo!” It rang clear and the shaft of the quill straightened under her vibrating fingertips.
“You’re sure a fast learner! I’ve seen many take a month to do that much,” Kenzo remarked.
“Yes, with basic instruction, the process is intuitive for her,” Cullen added.
Lyra repeated the procedure on other damage. “That’s good. I have a lot I want to learn.”
“Can I try?” the tiger owl asked, eyes wide.
“Perhaps later. I must concentrate on Lyra’s training for a while,” Cullen replied.
Lyra noticed Kenzo’s wings and head droop. His downcast look melted her heart. “I’ll try to help you learn during our practice sessions.” She wanted to do something nice for the bird who offered her so much cheer and assistance.
He rubbed a wing appreciatively against her arm.
“Now for the breakfast lesson.” Cullen stood to continue his instruction. “Imagine what food you wish and then channel out as before, holding your palm above the counter or table. Use the word ‘Creo’ in your spoken charm.”
This proved tricky to imagine all the parts and qualities of the meal she wanted. She screwed up her face and held her hand over the table. “Creo!” A plate of scrambled eggs and buttered toast materialized. “Oops, forgot a few things.” She clamped her brow together again. “Creo!” A glass of orange juice, jar of strawberry jam, and a pepper grinder took shape. “Got it all now!” she pronounced with satisfaction as she sat before her meal.
“Almost!” Cullen waved a hand. Forks and spoons floated from a cabinet drawer onto the table.
“Darn. So close. It’s hard to think of so much at the same time.”
“Practice. It will come.” He lifted a hand while fingering his dragon ring. A plate filled with a large omelet, and a mug of steaming coffee appeared across from her. Smiling, he seated himself and grabbed up a fork. “You did such a good job on your eggs I couldn’t resist.”
She beamed at his positive evaluation of her effort. “Why didn’t you have to say the charm word?”
“This ring contains the power in numerous common charms and spells. The Imperial Dragon gifted me with it, after I completed a quest that helped the Alliance.”
While they ate, Lyra’s examined his ring, wondering how it worked. Eager to begin her lessons, she could barely sit still.
After Cullen cleared away the remains of their meal, she flipped through Compendium of Common Charms. She experimented with several examples from the book, setting a feather duster on its way through the house. She sent a cordless electric vacuum whirring over the carpets. “Oh! I’d like to take this one back to Jean’s cottage.”
Cullen leaned over her shoulder. “You should slow down. The Imperial Dragon’s lesson might be taxing. You’re not accustomed to magical concentration.”
“I feel fine, and these are such easy tasks. Just a few more and I’ll stop. I need to learn.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Not all in one day. How about trying to conjure some clothes?” He laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Much as I love you in that slip, the Imperial Dragon may not find it proper attire.”
After he assisted her with selecting the correct invocation words and necessary intonation, she successfully conjured many garments. Dressed in jeans, a cabled Aran sweater, hiking boots, and a down parka, her choice of outfits drew criticism from both the Imperial Sorcerer and his assistant. When she finished, only the sweater remained, over a long, light blue, tweed skirt, topped by a hooded cloak of the same fabric lined in navy, wool flannel. “I’ll admit the boots you came up with are better, surprisingly warm and lightweight. But skirts and cloaks always?”
Cullen nodded. “Women in Dragonspeir don’t dress in trousers.”
“Hmpf. No one but me here hugs dragons either. Seems I can wear what I want.” She tossed her hair, and with a couple more incantations, traded the skirt for jeans, but kept the rest, hoping the long cloak would be properly feminine enough. She headed for the door, not looking at either of the two males for approval. She only heard a sigh and a flap of feathers behind her.
***
Lyra and Cullen transported to the ledge outside the Imperial Dragon’s lair. When his vapor dissipated, she looked far across the Steppe of Ora. Directly below them, workers cleared decorations from last night’s party. In the distance, a gray mist hung over Silva Nocens, the dark forest home of the Black Dragon. She shivered, remembering the dangers of last summer and her vision from the scrying sphere this morning.
They walked into the antechamber where more workers removed centerpieces, gathered garlands, and folded tables and chairs. Not waiting for guidance, she strode across the wool carpets of the grand hall to the private corridor. Upon meeting the guard, a blue dragon, she forgot the customary bow. Instead, she declared, “I’m Adalyra McCauley, and I’m here to meet with the Imperial Dragon for my first lesson.”
The blue eyed her curiously and bowed. He glanced at Cullen, but kept watch on Lyra. “Sire Drake, will you be accompanying the Scribe?”
Cullen bowed, the corners of his mouth drawn up as he muffled a laugh. “Yes, I will.” As they followed the guard, he whispered to her, “You must remember to bow.”
“If I think of it.” Lyra tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I have a lot more important things on my mind.”
Cullen chuckled and shook his head.
Inside the leader’s study, several stacks of volumes rested on a table. The wall sconces were lit since the small window openings admitted little light. The golden dragon stood on the opposite side of the room, holding a long brass cylinder to his eye while he surveyed the sky.
When the guard announced their entry, he lowered the device onto a stand. “Hello, Adalyra,” he called to her with a low, gravelly voice. “I’m glad to see the eagerness in your eyes, although your mind is shielded…for good reason.” He gave Cullen a knowing nod.
Lyra bowed. “Thank you. I’m ready to begin.”
He and Cullen exchanged a round of bows. “First, I want to be sure Sire Drake possesses these books for your use. If not, please borrow what is needed.”
She examined the collection of at least twenty. “I saw Lunar Magic, History of the Power of the Four Elements, Isolating Powers Within, and some of the books on fascination this morning.”
The Imperial Dragon chuckled. “Very good. Sire Drake, are you missing any titles?”
“Yes, The Guide to Mystical Astronomy and these four related ones. I do little with that craft.”
“That guide is the first I want you to study, Adalyra. My element is air, and I use the principles of mystic astronomy with many of my instruments.” He waved his thick forearm around the room, causing his lower win
gsail to flutter and catch the light. The translucent golden membranes glowed like stained glass. “Today, I’ll introduce you to my two most important and reliable tools.” He crossed under a wide archway, his footsteps pounding against the stone floor.
Lyra and Cullen followed into an observatory with glass-covered windows set in three walls as well as in a high ceiling skylight. Barely large enough to accommodate the massive body of the dragon, they wedged around a central table. It reminded Lyra of a pool table. Built of dark wood, an elaborately carved serpent coiled around the perimeter to form a lip, which contained four balls on a felt-covered top. About six inches in diameter, they were comprised of various types of opaque, banded stone.
“This will be interesting. I’ve never seen the Spheres of Sidus used,” Cullen said, stepping close to examine them.
“Are these made of marble or onyx?” Lyra asked.
“Onyx would be correct for three—white, gray, and black. The fourth is the utopian rondure—a grand moonstone.”
“I’ve never seen one so big,” she remarked. “May I roll it over?”
“Yes, of course.”
She slowly turned the milky white ball, exclaiming when it shot blue flashes of opalescence. “A rainbow moonstone of this size is amazing.”
“The set must be positioned to draw energy from the stars. The workings are unique to each user. The Spheres of Sidus answer questions about the past. I’ve attempted time and again to employ this to determine who is responsible for the death of your aunt, but alas, I cannot channel into the energy of your heritage. Dark powers now block some of my abilities to read for my people and protect them. The evil must be stopped.”
Lyra examined the differences in the four stones and their present positions.
“The darkest ball must be placed in the mark of the star governing the birth of your maternal ancestor a generation preceding your question. The gray, the same for the generation living at the times of your concern. And the white, the following generation.”
“That doesn’t seem difficult. I only need to know birthdates of the three past female relations and to place the balls where those stars are currently?”
“True, in part. You must also focus your full magical power on each as it is set and as you move the utopian into line with your own star. Then, if all is correct and your power sufficient, the moonstone will reveal your answer.”
“But I won’t know where the stars are in the daytime. Isn’t this something I must do at night?” She turned away from the table and looked into the sky. “Oh, I can see stars even at midday. How?” She stepped closer to the glass, almost bumping her nose against it. Brightly colored lights dotted the sky.
“The Spheres of Sidus must draw their energy, making them visible,” Cullen added.
The Imperial Dragon lifted his forearm to a window. “Correct, Sire Drake.”
“Seems I need to learn my astronomy to know which star is which,” Lyra said.
“Indeed. But, for today I will assist you. Do you know the month and day your grandmother was born, your aunt’s mother?”
“Hmm. Let me think.” She moved from the distracting display of stars. “Grammy’s birthday. It was in winter…December…December first.”
He rolled the darkest orb to the far side of the table. “Sagittarius is the orange star far to the left in the sky. Do you see?”
Lyra craned her neck, looking for an orange light. Cullen pointed to something, but she wasn’t certain she saw the star. “I guess.”
“And your aunt’s date?”
“July thirty-first,” she blurted out, leaning toward the window. “Mine is March thirtieth.”
“Leo—that yellow star low and to the right, and Aries—high, straight in front of us. How unusual, all fire signs. I wonder…” With a single long claw he nudged the balls into the correct positions. “If all women in the scribal lineage are from fire. Brigid certainly was.”
With a little help from Cullen, she successfully located the other two stars, each a different shade of red. “I don’t know, but can research and find out.”
“I think it would be worthwhile. Now to activate the instrument, you must set the Spheres of Sidus yourself, but today is practice. Place a hand on one, then another, and deliver your power to each while you focus on the question you wish answered.”
She pulled mind fire up from deep inside and channeled it into her touch, keeping her mind steady on seeking the identity of Aunt Jean’s killer. When her hand contacted the moonstone, it sparked a huge flash of blue light, so bright she jumped back.
Cullen gasped.
The golden dragon’s quick reflexes allowed him to catch and hold her hand in place. “Continue,” he said with a calm tone, his eyes studying her.
Refocusing, she pulled power deeper from her heart, but couldn’t produce more than a series of bright surges. “I don’t see anything.”
The leader removed his hold, and Lyra relaxed back from the table, losing her balance as she moved.
Cullen caught her around the waist. “These instruments all require great mental strength and can be tiring.”
“They do. Adalyra, do not dismay. You called more response than I thought possible. Your inherited power is strong. With training, you’ll be able to channel it enough to easily command this instrument.” His face lit with a toothy grin. “I’m pleased. You are free to come and practice using these instruments at any time. The guards will be alerted to allow you to pass. Now let’s learn one other device.” He strode back into his study, crossing to a marble pedestal.
A shallow earthenware bowl sat on top. It was wide, nearly three feet in diameter, but otherwise unremarkable. A clear liquid filled the vessel, which looked like water to Lyra. She stepped near the edge, eyes wide and watching for changes.
The Imperial Dragon stirred it with his claws, and the liquid disappeared as wisps of vapor rolled around the basin—certainly not water. A fragrance of myrrh wafted from the spirals of steam. “This will allow you to see into the future, much like a scrying stone, but more accurate and detailed. It is the Lacuna Ales, another instrument calling powers from the air.”
“Pool of augury,” Cullen added.
“Indeed. This is simpler to use since you need no knowledge to set the device. However, it requires as much skill in your craft. Sire Drake, you’ve used this one, have you not?”
“Yes. Your focus must be intense, using heart aura, or images blur.” Cullen stepped close, gazing down at the churning steam. “First, you slowly stir with your fingertips to awaken the powers of the charmed water. When the vapors rise high and you breathe in their spell, you become united in purpose with the Lacuna Ales. Then is the time you silently ask your question about what may happen. Maintain contact with the gases no matter what occurs. Remember—all sensations are illusions.”
The Imperial Dragon looked at her and withdrew his hand. “The pool is ready. Begin.”
Lyra cautiously touched the vapors with a single extended finger. Surprisingly, it felt cool. Encouraged by the pleasant sensation, she stirred wide circles from her shoulder, her whole hand submerged. As the gases slipped between her fingers, she called forth her power. In response, steam rose high, carrying a different fragrance. While she couldn’t drop her concentration to identify the smell, it imparted a feeling of comfort. This encouraged her to inhale the scent deeply and pose her question. She wanted to know why her scrying stone showed her face with a horrified look this morning. Holding her focus took great strength. She trembled and sweat beaded along her upper lip.
Abruptly the basin glowed, and the gases burst into flame. She screamed and tried to jerk her arm free.
From behind she felt hands on her waist and arm, holding her still. “Remain. You are safe,” the deep, fatherly voice of the Imperial Dragon reassured.
Then, the central area calmed back to liquid, and hazy images slid across the surface. She fought to hold her question, her face dripping with perspiration. The vision cleared in
to something like a slow-motion video. Cullen lay collapsed on the ground. An image of herself kneeled beside him, trying various methods to repair the damage. After no success, her likeness looked up to the sky, face constricted with despair.
“No! No!” Lyra screamed into the augury pool. Her body went limp, and she slumped to the floor, guided by arms holding her.
Chapter Eight: Reading the Stars
Her eyes still shut, Lyra smelled roses. Images flitted through her mind: roses decorating the rug and furnishings in Aunt Jean’s bedroom; the bouquet of Mrs. Kendall’s prize pink roses on Jean’s dresser to ease her suffering; arrangements surrounding her casket. At first, the visions comforted, then with the association to Lyra’s loss, they brought a sense of urgency. She opened her eyes and fought to sit up. Wisps of perfumed vapor spilled over the edges of the bowl.
Cullen kneeled at her side, and his arm supported her from falling backward. “Easy. You’re safe. How do you feel?”
She looked at him and remembered the forecast of the Lacuna Ales. “Scared stiff. Did you see that prediction? You were seriously injured. I can’t lose you. I need you.”
He rubbed along her spine. “I did see, but nothing will separate us. I promise. Don’t worry. Now besides that, how do you feel? Tired?”
“Drained.” How could he dismiss what the instrument foretold? The Imperial Dragon remained composed, modeling calm behavior to keep peace. However, the irises of his eyes, usually a contented blue, were streaked with yellow, revealing worry.
Cullen nodded and addressed the leader. “She needs to rest before her evening lesson.”
“Most certainly she does.” The dragon stepped back to give them space.
“I’ll take her back to my cabin where it’s quiet and she can get some sleep.”
“Use caution. Quiet can invite danger.”
“I’ve set numerous safeguarding spells. A new one last evening after an attack by a cimafa carrying a cloaked rider.”
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