Wicked Wish (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 1)

by Veronica Douglas

  I sat back. “Well, that’s heavy.”

  “Very.” The mage folded his hands in front of him.

  Damian leaned forward. “Do you have the spell that will enchant the object?”

  “Yes. Do you have my payment?”

  Damian pulled out his phone and swiped the screen a few times. “It’s been released into your account.”

  The mage popped open his laptop to check. After a moment, he snapped it shut and stood. “Excellent. All is in order. Now, I will need your help to cast the spell. It will require all of our strength. Follow me.”

  I scanned the bookshelves as we left and revised my opinion of the man. He was still someone who deliberately ordered the most pretentious books he could find, but he had probably read them all and was eager to remind you of it, if given the chance.

  The mage led us to a brickwork carriage house in the backyard. The interior of the building had been gutted, and the floor was paved with large slabs of basalt, each with a single rune carved in its face.

  “Welcome to my laboratory.” Matthias positioned the box carefully on a rune-marked stone in the middle of the room. He indicated a separate stone for Damian. “Stand here.” Next, he indicated a rune-marked stone to my left. “And you, stand here.”

  “Hi, I’m Neve,” I said cheekily.

  “Hello, Neve. Stand there.” He gave a slip of paper to each of us. “This is the incantation of binding. Memorize it now. You will chant it with me as I work the spell. As the magic rises, you will feel your energy drawn out of you. Don’t worry, that is part of the process.” He gave us a moment to look over the incantation, then asked, “Ready?”

  We nodded.

  Even though daylight streamed in through the windows, the mage lit candles mounted in the corners of the room. He also ignited some incense and placed it by the box. “We begin,” he said, then snapped his arms out, and the sunlight vanished. All around, the candle flames turned green. He raised the gem in his left hand and began to chant, marking sigils in the air with his right. After a moment, I mastered the rhythm and began to follow along. I had never worked magic in that way before, though parts of it distantly reminded me of the Sumerian spell I had used to bind the gallu.

  The words filled the room, pushing outward on the boundaries of reality. It was like space itself twisted around the little brass box. I felt my power pull out of me and begin to circle around the room, like water spiraling a drain. My magic mixed with Damian’s and the mage’s, and I sensed their magic much more clearly now. Something terrified me about it, but I kept chanting.

  Everything warped. Magic pulled the world inward toward the gem in Matthias’s hand. It began to glow with white light—faintly at first, but soon it became white hot and radiant. Matthias stepped forward and placed it in the box as he continued the chant.

  A roar soon filled the room, like a hurricane rushing inward. The box shook and began to glow. Thunder clapped, and the lid snapped shut.

  Suddenly, the carriage house returned to normal. Sunlight beamed through the windows, and dust drifted lazily in the wind.

  My legs went weak, but Damian caught me. I gasped, gripping his shoulders and meeting his dark eyes. “You’re fast,” I mumbled.

  One corner of his mouth quirked up in a devastatingly sexy half smile. He pulled me up, supporting me with strong arms.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Of course you’re not,” the mage scoffed. “Powerful magic takes its toll. Power demands sacrifice. I, myself, feel like crap.”

  Despite my intention to dislike the man, a chuckle escaped. Yeah, I felt like crap, too. The lousy end of being drunk.

  Matthias picked up the box. “Follow me.”

  He led us to a bright kitchen trimmed with white shelves and cupboards, then produced three glasses and pulled a pitcher from the fridge. “Fresh lemonade. Literally the perfect antidote for all that is magical.”

  I downed mine and poured a refill. It was ice cold, sweet and tart, with bits of mint. A glass and a half in, I was nearly restored. “Fates, this is good.”

  “We’re lucky. Lemons are good this time of year,” the mage said absently.

  Damian leaned forward. “So, how do we work this? Just show up and open the box?”

  “Right in principle. Wrong in execution.” Matthias set the brass box on the table and opened it. The magic had consumed the gem, leaving only a burn mark on the inside of the box. He indicated the lid. “First, you must get very close to the djinn, within thirty feet. Second, you open the box and chant the phrase I taught you to initiate the spell. Third, chant until the djinn is sucked into the box. I don’t know how long this will take. Maybe only a few recitations. Maybe minutes.” Matthias snapped the lid shut. “Then you close the box once the djinn has been drawn inside. Do not open it again. Lock it or seal it if you can. The bonds may take time to set. Honestly, it’s a simple process. The trick is to cast the spell while only thirty feet from the djinn…and to keep chanting the whole time. Don’t stop, or you’ll have to begin the process again.”

  “That’s going to be difficult,” Damian said, eyeing me.

  “Absolutely.” The mage looked at the two of us. “My money is on the djinn.” He slid the box across the table. “Good luck.”

  The limo sped away from the mage’s house.

  I turned to Damian. “Woof. He’s a total dickweasel.”

  “Yes. And expensive. But he’s the best at what he does.”

  I leaned back into the seat with a sigh. “He makes good lemonade, though. I’ll give him that.”

  “That’s very generous of you.”

  “I know.” I studied the shadows lining Damian’s face. “You know him better than you’re letting on.”

  His jaw tensed. A confirmation.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Fine. I know Matthias well—knew him well. It was long ago. We were allies once, before going our own ways. I would be dead many times over, if not for him. But he is, as you say, mostly a dickweasel.” Damian turned to face me, more serious now. “I assume we’ll need to use the Atlas of the Planes to return to the Realm of Air?”

  He was changing the subject but also right. Our journey wasn’t over.

  I had been entirely focused on the library, then the potion, then Cappadocia, and finally the spell. But it was all leading up to a moment when we would have to face the djinn once and for all.

  Dread slowly began to creep through my veins. “I think we need to use the Atlas. I’m not sure I can put us directly on the spot. Last time, I dropped us in the middle of nowhere, remember?”

  “Don’t be hard on yourself. You were channeling your powers for the first time, using an artifact you had only encountered minutes before. Temper your expectations. Using magic the first time is always difficult.”

  My mind flashed back to Rhiannon in the djinn’s palace, bloody and bound. Frustration surged. “I appreciate the sentiment. But when is the last time you had to learn new powers on the spot?”

  Damian tensed, a shadow flashing across his face. I frowned. Something I said hit a sore spot. But what? Either way, I was out of line. He was just being supportive and trying to boost my confidence.

  “Sorry. I’m just agitated. I could have killed us that first time. Jumping and not knowing what I was doing…we were lucky I remembered the island from the book.”

  “We’ll go to my office and get the manual.”

  Soon, we left the Gaslight District behind, heading back downtown to the Rhombus. Traffic wasn’t bad, and it took only about fifteen minutes to get to Damian’s office. I glared at the secretary as we walked in. She smiled and waved at me enthusiastically.

  Once he had locked the door behind us, Damian pulled the Atlas from his vault. I opened it, and the scent of old leather and parchment wafted upward as I turned the pages. “I don’t think we should jump directly to the djinn’s island,” I said. “I could pop us in the middle of his dining room without meaning to.”

  “Good th
inking. I suspect he may have warded his palace against teleportation anyway, especially since he knows you’re a planes-walker. Could you get us to one of those small rocks nearby?”

  I considered for a moment. From our last experience, planes-walking into thin air was extremely disorienting and dangerous. “No. Too much risk. I want a big target. If I missed a rock, we’d be just dropping through the infinity of space with no idea of which direction to go.”

  “Okay, where?”

  “Capri. It’s here on the map, and only a few hours from the djinn’s palace. We made a similar flight last time. We can do it again…it’ll just be a little longer.”

  “Great. Ready when you are.” He studied me intensely, perfectly composed.

  I took a deep breath. The memory of us spinning and plummeting through the sky flashed into my mind, and a lump formed in my throat. “Okay, then. Hold on tight.”

  Damian wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I breathed in his fresh scent and steeled myself for the impending whirlwind through the ether.

  My eyes fell to the book, and I noticed the islands and the sky begin to move, drawing close. I pinpointed Capri as its ink outline zoomed up to meet me.

  Then we jumped.

  21

  Magic tore through us. The first time, I hadn’t been prepared. This time, I knew what was coming, and that was far worse. Or it would have been, but I could feel Damian holding me, his strength unrelenting, even as we dissolved into the cosmos.

  The vortex consumed us, transporting us atom by atom into a realm on the other side of reality.

  I calmed my mind. It’s just a whirlwind. I was born of wind.

  Thinking of Capri, I reached out with my mind and pulled the image of the island close.

  A single breath later, our feet slammed into the pavement. The impact surged though my body, along with a rush of triumph. It was the impact of an arrow sinking into a bullseye. I didn’t even need to look around to know that I had found my mark.

  “Hell, yes!” I yelled.

  This dramatic outburst startled the local populace. A few avians fluttered their wings and moved away.

  We were in the middle of a square, somewhat similar to the one in Tayir. I had felt drawn to this point. Perhaps these squares were designated landing pads for far travelers.

  Whereas Tayir had been urban, Capri was much less developed. We stood on top of a hill. Vineyards and terraced gardens dotted the slopes, a postcard of idyllic loveliness. I took in the landscape, breathing deeply from the rich air. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes.” Damian said distantly. “But I’m afraid we shouldn’t linger. I have food in my pack. Are you ready to fly? Or do you need rest?”

  The jump had exhausted one part of my being. But just standing here, amid the floating islands, I felt another part of my soul refreshed. I wanted to leap into the sky, but the coming battle would require every bit of my strength.

  “Just give me a second to catch my breath,” I replied.

  We stood next to a vendor’s stall, and Damian turned to the man. He bought a few strange fruits and handed one to me.

  “Thanks.” I bit into one of the tart red fruits and collapsed onto a nearby bench. I’d sit, but just for a minute. Just until my legs stopped shaking. I stared out at the verdant fields that disappeared into open sky. “I’m scared.”

  He watched me closely, then pulled a flask from his bag. “Here.”

  “Liquid courage?” I asked, tossing it back. To my surprise, it was pure, cold water. “I was expecting booze.”

  “It’s just water. There’s no need to be afraid.”

  “I think there is. We’re going to face a djinn. A creature with unrivaled cosmic powers. I recall someone saying a djinn could crush me with a wink.”

  “True. But I have a good feeling.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I have a half djinn with untold power at my side.”

  I scoffed. “How did you find me in the first place?”

  “I’m a seeker. I told you.”

  “What, you just asked the universe for the nearest available planes-walker?”

  He looked at me for a moment and turned away, his eyes dark. “I asked the universe for someone who could help me defeat the djinn.”

  I was unsure how I should feel about that. “Why did you take this job?”

  Damian shifted his shoulders back and forth. “I’ve done a lot of things for money. Others out of boredom or habit or even revenge. This, I’m doing because it needs to be done.”

  “Very noble for a thief, I’m sure. Who’s your client?”

  “Someone who made a well-intentioned mistake.” He shrugged. “Now I’m stuck cleaning up their mess…as are you.”

  “Go on…”

  “I don’t discuss my clients. Or my collaborators.” He turned and gave me a wink. “Thieves’ code.”

  The tart fruit, cool water, and momentary rest did the trick. My legs stopped shaking, and soon I felt the itch to get moving. “I’m ready.”

  Damian unfurled his wide wings and leapt into the air.

  I chased after him. It was so much easier to fly in this realm. I certainly hadn’t mastered the technique, but I felt twice as strong as I did back on earth. I pushed to keep up with Damian, though I suspected he could have gone faster.

  Joy vibrated through me as we flew.

  For a time, we were alone, but soon we began attracting wind sprites, who played and dove around us like dolphins at the bow of a ship. I had seen a few on our first voyage. The sprites left trails of mist streaming in the air behind them, like jet contrails across the face of the sky. Soon, there were a dozen, and we raced in the air, turning and twisting as we flew on toward our destination.

  A sprite came close, matching my flight. She laughed. “Who taught you to fly? A bird?”

  “Yes,” I said, beaming.

  The little sprite frowned. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not. It was a raven.”

  Her jaw dropped as she slowed to a hover. The other sprites stopped one by one, and, unsure of what was happening, we did, too.

  “You learned to fly…from a bird?” the sprite inquired.

  “Yes.”

  “But birds can’t fly!” cried a male sprite, clearly aghast.

  “Of course birds can fly,” I said. “That’s what they do. They’re birds!”

  The sprites looked at each other, completely dumbfounded by what I was saying.

  What didn’t make sense here? Birds. Fly.

  The friendly sprite drew close and spoke hesitantly, as if explaining a principle to a small child or a foolish friend who should know better. “Birds can’t fly. That’s why they have wings. To help them fly.” She pointed to Damian. “He can’t fly. That’s why he has wings. Because he can’t fly.”

  My brain squealed in pain. “I don’t understand.”

  The sprite was clearly frustrated and unsure of how to proceed. “How do you fly now?”

  “I just call the wind and push myself along.”

  A dozen wind sprites gaped at me, utterly horrified. “You what?”

  “I use lift?” I responded, completely at a loss.

  The sprite came close, and spoke in calm, reassuring tones, as if to a very stupid person. “You are a djinn. You are like us. You are like the wind. The wind doesn’t need lift. The wind doesn’t have wings. The wind is.”

  I was exasperated. “Fine. So how does the wind go where it wants to go?”

  “The wind decides where it wants to go and goes. It is the wind. This is the wind’s world.”

  “You’re going to have to explain.”

  The sprite flitted around me. “Where do you want to go? Just choose.”

  I picked a point in the sky and strained my muscles. Nothing happened.

  “Well?” The sprite raised her eyebrows.

  “I’m trying!”

  “Decide what you want. Reach out. Draw it to you.”

  I
thought of the sky. Then I thought of Rhiannon. Of the palace. Of the isle.

  Reaching forth with something inside of me, I pulled. The world came rushing toward me, and I exploded through the sky. The air shook as I passed, and I pulled as hard as I could. Shock waves curled around me. I was alone at first, and then surrounded by sprites, spiraling in a celestial dance.

  Reaching out to my right, I pulled again, turning at an impossible speed. I should have blacked out, but I was unfazed. The sprites followed, a second behind.

  I am of this realm.

  I’d been told that when I’d arrived, but now I understood. I was the wind. This whole time, I had been fighting against myself, yet my body was the sky. I was limitless.

  Looking back, Damian was a distant speck. Any farther, and I would lose sight of him forever. I turned back and pulled, soaring in a rage of turbulence. I overshot and had to try again, slowing myself as I approached.

  “Hell,” he said, otherwise speechless.

  I was electrified. Flying before had drained me. This filled me with power, and I felt as if I could explode.

  “Not bad for a girl who thought she was a bird.” The sprites whirled around me. They laughed, and with a burst, they flew off into the cloudless sky.

  We took off at a steady clip, keeping a slight distance from each other so we didn’t collide. Damian’s wingspan was at least ten feet.

  After another hour of travel, dark clouds rose in the distance. Cool drafts of wind converged around us, raising goosebumps on my skin. “We’re headed toward a storm,” I said. “Which way should we go to get around it?”

  Damian gestured to the brewing thunderheads. “That’s where we’re headed—we’re close.”

  “What? The palace is in there? The storm is over the island?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a natural storm. I think the djinn has made a wall around the island. To keep intruders like us out.”