The Ginger Cat
Page 20
“Love him and his light will grow stronger,” Grand-mère said. “That’s the way it is with love and with light. One can give strength to the other. Mordecai is right.” Grand-mère stood. Well, she almost stood. The cave ceiling wasn’t quite tall enough for her to stand to her full height where she was, and it was part of the reason Sir Lancelot stood on my shoulder with calm. The dragon couldn’t come any further into the cave.
“Now, I think it’s time we get going, don’t you agree, Mordecai?”
Mordecai had been considering something. But when Grand-mère spoke, he nodded, and the beads that capped the braids in his beard verbalized his affirmation. He stood.
“Darling, would you please back out of the cave for us?”
I looked up to see my grandmother, back from the dead, addressing this gargantuan dragon with the same terms of endearment she used with my sisters and me. Yet it seemed perfectly appropriate coming from her. The dragon must have believed so too because he began to retreat immediately, backing out of the cave that didn’t allot him the space to turn.
When the dragon vacated the entrance to the cave, it was as if daylight snuck up on night. Suddenly, a flaming red-orange light was everywhere, illuminating the recesses of the dark, allowing the sun its final expression of glory before the moon swallowed it whole. The sun and the moon danced around each other every night, expressions of light and love that could never touch each other, but found other ways to express the beauty of love making.
And when the flaming light illuminated Marcelo, I thought that perhaps Mordecai was right and that Marcelo was strong enough to pull through this. Although he wasn’t even awake, the light shone on something within the man that saw past the ashen pallor of his skin. I remembered Mordecai and Grand-mère’s words, and shooed any other thoughts away. I just loved him.
In the light that flooded the cave, the serpent and dragon awoke from their golden loop of eternity for a moment, responding to a love and a power the magical ring had been forged to represent. The ring came to life, glowing for any that looked. As it was, only one person saw the change in the ring on my left hand, and nobody noticed Salazar’s eyes grow wide with surprise.
Marcelo’s nephew might not yet have the evidence he needed to decide conclusively whether or not Count Washur had fed him lies, but he wouldn’t deny the power that revealed itself in my ring. Salazar might be many things, and he might still not know the other many things he was capable of becoming, but he was a magician, through and through.
Since Count Washur ripped him from his mother’s womb while the life raced to leave her body, he baptized the boy in magic. Count Washur and Marcelo’s father, the only men with any real influence over his childhood, were obsessed with magic. They attributed value to magic when they didn’t even attribute it to life—at least not to the life of others. It was the currency they traded in, and the boy Salazar adopted a similar fascination for the magical arts. He knew a ring of power when he saw one.
His eyes found my face. He also knew a witch with power when he saw one. The signs were too great to ignore.
Although his magic was still bound, for the first time in his life he was beginning to feel the freedom to make up his own mind. Count Washur’s spell over him was beginning to wear off. He stood to lose as much as any of us if Marcelo were to die. Salazar’s magic would die along with his uncle, as no other magician can unbind the magic another has bound.
We exited the cave while Mordecai waited at its entrance to float out Marcelo and Sylvia’s bodies. When Salazar walked by, he averted his eyes from the penetrating look of the older man. But Mordecai noticed the shift in Marcelo’s nephew anyway. He would keep a close watch on him now that the urgent matter of tending to the patients was over, at least until the next treatment.
When a mind became free of its bindings, it wasn’t always clear which path the mind would take. Salazar was victim to decades of misinformation. Mordecai hoped Salazar would delay making any decision of importance until he learned the truth, both of his history and his heart.
But as it always was, only time would tell.
Mordecai raised the limp bodies of his patients with infinite care and lead them out of the cave. There, he looked up at Grand-mère seated atop a dragon, outlined by the last vestiges of a sunset as heated as any flame. Just for a second, he wondered. He wondered what his life would look like from here on out, now that this woman had entered it.
You can continue the story in The Scarlet Dragon. Thanks for reading!
Thank you
Thank you for reading and allowing me to take you on this adventure. Creating magical, exciting stories is one of my great passions, but it wouldn’t be nearly as rewarding if I didn’t have anyone to share them with. That you give your time and attention to the worlds I’ve created means so much to me, and I appreciate every single one of you.
If you enjoyed this story, will you please consider helping other readers find out about it? There are many easy ways to do this, here are two. You could:
Tell a friend (or better yet, several), in person or social media.
Write a review on Amazon (or Goodreads). The more strong reviews my book has, the more likely it is that a new reader will take a chance on it. And great reviews often make me do funny celebratory dances, because knowing someone enjoyed my writing makes me that happy.
Again, thank you! I wish you blessings on your journey, and wherever you are, I hope you’re having a magical day.
Lucía
Acknowledgments
I’d write no matter what, because telling stories is my passion, but the following people make creating worlds (and life) a joy. I’m eternally grateful for the support of my beloved, James, my mother, Elsa, and my three daughters, Catia, Sonia, and Nadia. They’ve always believed in me, even before I published a single word. They help me see the magic in the world around me, and more importantly, within.
I’m also grateful to Linda Ingalls for beta reading this book and offering astute suggestions for its improvement.
And finally, I’m thankful for every single one of you who’ve reached out to tell me that one of my stories touched you in one way or another, made you smile or cry, or kept you up long past your bedtime. You’ve given me reason to keep writing.
Titles by Lucía Ashta
THE WITCHING WORLD
(YA fantasy)
Magic Awakens
The Five-Petal Knot
The Merqueen
The Witching World Omnibus, Books 1-3
The Ginger Cat
The Scarlet Dragon
Spirit of a Spell *
PLANET ORIGINS
(Space fantasy)
Planet Origins
Original Elements
Holographic Princess
Planet Origins Omnibus, Books 1-3
Purple Worlds
Mowab Rider *
Planet Sand *
THE LIGHT WARRIORS
(Visionary fantasy)
Beyond Sedona *
Beyond Prophecy *
Beyond Amber *
Beyond Arnaka *
The Prophecy of Arnaka
The Secret of Namana
A Betrayal of Time
Whispers of Pachamama
“Daughter of the Wind”
“Immortalium” *
The Unkillable Killer *
(* coming soon)
About the Author
Lucía Ashta, a former attorney and architect, is an Argentinian-American author who lives in Sedona with her beloved and three daughters. She published her first story (about an unusual Cockatoo) at the age of eight, and she’s been at it ever since.
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Lucía on the web:
LuciaAshta.com
luciamashta@gmail.com