A Dragon’s Witch

by Tina Glasneck

  Where was the flute to calm the cobra when you needed one?

  “I thought he was the first one.” I didn’t say Leif’s name as not to give Emma any hint of which we were discussing. For all I knew, she might be a blabbermouth. Hey, I’d known this version of her for like five minutes. And the Emma I recalled from all those years ago regarded hope and happiness like cheap trinkets. She prized wealth and fancy things.

  He laughed a harsh, brittle laugh that lacked all humor. “No, do you not know the stories of the dragons? What sort of Chosen are you if you don’t know the history? I shall educate you.”

  How did he recognize me as a Chosen one?

  “That vampire of yours is maleficence. Instead of helping, the queen remains with her mate, the unholy Fenrir, the wolf, and does nothing to curb the rising aggression. The vampires grow bold and decimate towns, kill innocents, and no one stands up for the people except for me.”

  I gulped, pushing down my confusion. My visions had never been wrong, and I had the strange suspicion that Donovan was attempting to manipulate me, mixing truth and lies.

  The last time I saw Jaz, she and Erich were in love. Is that what Erich meant about Jaz having gone missing? How could this be? A pang of regret hit me. If I’d only checked to see what was so urgent with Erich instead of following orders, I’d have known. I’d know how to help Jaz.

  “In her absence, this is my palace, and I shall help mankind cleanse this world of those created by the illegitimate queen.”

  “Illegitimate?” I knew Jaz was always the promised Queen, as she was descended from the line of Baldr, the most beloved of the gods.

  “To get her position, she had to usurp the former one. A coup of horrible consequences, as she took the weakling of her line, her brother Greyson, and together they served as ammo. They murdered the queen and took what did not belong to them. She may be the daughter of the gods, but she knows nothing of our ways. She’s made a mockery of the dragon. Instead of us rising, we’ve been given less than table scraps.”

  Was Jaz no longer with Erich? How could a true love’s mate be exchanged for another?

  “I don’t understand. What of the queen’s beloved? You may know him as the necromancer?”

  His harsh laughter cut through my question. “He and this vampire of yours are two of the worst traitors in existence. Cowards even. The necromancer has been snipped and is now powerless—and can be found downstairs ready to swear his oath. But that is the benefit of time travel to the point before the queen could arrive. I’ve studied the timeline, as have the others in succession.”

  For him to tell me this, there had to be dire reasons for such. “Why are you revealing these confidences?”

  “Because I’m sure that you wouldn’t want to do anything that might cause your family to be harmed.”

  The doors opened, and in walked Emma. She now wore the lovely dress over which she’d been fawning.

  “You may now leave, dear Lady Abele, as your sister will make a great addition to my feast.” Did he suppose that I would leave so that he could eat my sister? I watched as he exhaled smoke from his nostrils.

  I rolled my eyes. “You can’t suppose such intentions.”

  “No, I do more than that. I take what I want, and her magic and might will make a great combination.”

  “And what about me, why have you brought me here?” I removed the dagger in the folds of my dress and wrapped my fingers around the worn handle.

  “It is simple. Contrary to your high regard for this vampire, we have a history.” The distaste was palpable. I sneaked a peek at his face, which was squished together as if he’s stepped in poop and smelled it sticking to him.

  Of course, that was what happened when one’s position had gotten away from them. He spoke to me as if I were his friend when all I wanted to know was how to protect my own.

  “It is not our blood relation,” he continued, “as he is only special because of his direct line to the Dragon Queen. Even now, I should let you see the one you are bound to: The Queen who rules no one and allows the wolf to rule her.”

  He beckoned me to him and whisked away a piece of blue satin that covered an ornately carved scrying mirror. Runes were etched into the beautiful knotwork.

  I moved silently forward, tucking the blade into my skirts.

  As I stood before it, my reflection changed to a haze of clouds and smoke, to then reveal a black-haired woman I recognized as my best friend, Jaz.

  Jaz knelt to pat two little girls on the head. Their backs faced me, but I watched her face, and a small smile that I recognized, I knew that whatever was going on wasn’t that bad. It couldn’t be. The smile was genuine, bubbly even.

  In complete stillness, like watching a silent movie, I could only see their motions, not hear their words.

  The two young children nodded and bowed their heads, to be pushed away by a stout older woman who resembled the fairy tale rendering of the Mother Goose. Glasses rested on her upturned nose, and a barely-there smile on razor-thin lips. Led quickly away, the two girls’ braids blew behind them in their hurry to escape, while soldiers in French uniforms gathered to stand at attention at Jaz’s side.

  I could almost imagine the stomping of their boots against the marble floor when they clicked them together, and a man whose aura danced in colors approached her. His black hair was greased back, his shoulders proud and straight. Power emanated from him in those colors, as well as something else that I couldn’t identify.

  The mystery man held out his hand, cleared his throat, and Jaz reluctantly took it. A pang of pain passed over her saddened face.

  “Who is that?”

  “That is Fenrir, the wolf.”

  “He doesn’t look like a wolf.”

  “And I don’t look like a dragon. The power of magic and shifting, but you know all about that. And I wouldn’t suggest that whole cutting off my hand idea. It would put a damper in my plans.” He grabbed my arm, squeezing until the dagger clattered to the floor. “But why is she behaving so?”

  He shrugged. “She is under his spell, in love. Isn’t that how one behaves?”

  This was not Jaz in love.

  This was Jaz imprisoned. I’d watched her love Erich, where her eyes danced, her cheeks flushed at his touch, but with this guy, there was only terror.

  “You see, all I wanted was to have a nice conversation, and you have found a way to threaten me.” He waved his hand, and one of his men moved my sister toward him.

  “What are you doing?”

  His smile was filled with mischief. If he could, he would have morphed into a giant lizard and chewed on us, breaking and snapping our bones. But instead, he reached behind him to a satchel that rested on the table before the mirror.

  What were the weaknesses of a dragon? My hand burned blue. But before I could react, he blew a purple powder into Emma’s and my face.

  “Spicing things up.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tink

  An inner battle was my reality upon waking. I couldn’t get my mind to focus quite right. Everything shimmered, and all I could think of was escaping and erasing whatever malformation I’d caused. If there was a screw-up, I did it.

  I threw open the cupboard bed doors. These self-deprecating thoughts strangled me, and I couldn’t even scoot out of the warm bed.

  A soft meow cut through my contemplation. Only the mother cat remained in my room, as Mum said she’d find a place to keep the kittens safe. The mama cat refused to leave, and I wasn’t one to kick her out.

  And since I was to have a roommate, she needed a name. I stared at her for a moment. “You need a name. Poppy maybe?” It was the first name to pop in my head.

  The cat meowed. I took it as a sign of acceptance. I didn’t speak cat.

  Up until now, the maids had fed them—once entering and claiming my chamber, Poppy seemed to ween the little ones to where they now ate solids and still thrived—all good signs. The maids also emptied their litter box (Whoa! Was
that an act to explain to them that I needed a potty for the cats? It was like explaining quantum mechanics) and kept the grand secret. But now, Poppy guarded this room like it was her territory where she reigned supreme.

  I was okay with that, too. She wanted to keep us both safe.

  Everything felt wrong, sort of like the feeling of walking into a house with the door slightly ajar, and listening for any movement.

  I feared only three things: being found out that I wasn’t good enough on the grand moral scale of everything; that I’d lived all of this time and never made a life worth living, and felines. Yep, cats. They looked so innocent, and then, boom; they attacked with their feisty claws. Nope. No kittens or adults—at least I used to believe that—Poppy was going to change my mind, though.

  Today, Poppy rested again on the steps to greet me. This time I stretched out my hand waiting for her to scratch, bite, or attempt to kill me as cats did. Instead, she bumped my hand with her head and rubbed her face on me. Yep, this orange-striped, long-haired cat, was slowly melting my fears.

  I couldn’t undo anything I’d done: none of those I’d killed ever increased my score to make me a better person. Their blood cemented me in this circular dungeon of self-hate. I’d lied for so long about everything. What if I could tell the truth, walk in truth, be a vessel of truth?

  Heck, I’d already burned bridges with Freyja. The Queen of Asgard would come to punish me, too, even if I said that I was looking after Jaz’s interest. These games were so difficult to referee.

  I never knew if I was fighting on the team of good.

  What was being good anyway?

  “You smell foul, dear sister,” Emma chastised.

  “Well, it’s better than being a fowl.” My shoulders shook at my silly joke. But still, something wasn’t quite right. The walls appeared to shine as if painted in glitter. Despite the thick cloud, beams of light refracted throughout the room as if it had landed right on a prism, and for the life of me, I had a horrible taste in my mouth: copper. A lot of copper.

  “We can’t be late for his lordship,” Emma declared, and I wanted to shake some sense into her. No, really. How could she not see how dangerous this shifter was? He was powerful and knew it, and he stood on our necks. If all that he said was true, then this was more than a simple problem. The supernatural had been let loose, and no one could do anything.

  Well, almost no one. There might be a way, but to make this happen, I’d need to make it to the caves where Leif rested in the black dirt or to the sacred forest. There was no way I would be allowed a trip to the mountains, but the forest was only a short walk away. I’d need to perform blood magic.

  This dragon’s plans were maniacal. His whole idea seemed to be based on world domination, but what he didn’t know was, I had a direct line to the gods, but it would be that I’d have to find a way to wake up Erich from his unnatural slumber, maybe travel to Helheim to speak to his mother for help. Maybe get a message to Jaz to wake the fuck up, too. I mean, it seemed like I was to be the heroine of everyone’s story, except my own.

  A knock interrupted me, and I stretched when Emma peaked around the corner. Her golden locks were styled in Shirley-Temple-like curls.

  ‘Twas almost as if a cloak was pulled over my head, and I awoke muddled from a Midsummer’s dream. It was the rainiest of days, and although my beloved sisters basked in the radiance of the fire’s glow, I wanted nothing more than to scratch off the skin that now sought to imprison me.

  Everything chaffed.

  Everything was different, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. In my lovely outfit, my sisters clamored for attention, while Papa lamented over the price of the fabric; the dressmaker had overcharged us for the gowns.

  Gowns, since when had they been vital to me? This wasn’t right. This shifting felt alien, almost. I’d once heard of the men and women who traveled the mighty seas and encountered these strange new cultures that carried old fear, none of which I was aware, but maybe, maybe I, too, had caught a superstition. Could it be this is the reason that even my flesh felt foreign? It was as if time collapsed on one another, and my twenty-first sensibilities couldn't align with this sixteenth-century world.

  A household of girls had nothing to offer dear Papa without that of a well-made match. Fortune and fortitude. That was what today’s lesson was about, besides hours of needlepoint and hot to properly curtsy.

  A part of me wished to inquire as to the year. My proper place even? How could I live my entire life like this, but everything felt so foreign. The air was too crisp, the corsets too tight. The shoes were too hard. And the lack of pockets?

  It was the strangest of thoughts, as I sought a place to rest my hands. Pockets? A word that made no sense, but I knew what it meant. It was like darkness whispered, and wooed me like a lost lover, something I should know nothing of. But I knew how it felt to ache for a man and have that ache met with throbbing shafts of steel. This voice spoke things that made no sense in my head, in a vernacular foreign, but was understandable.

  Could I have a special gift?

  I fingered my necklace that held the bejeweled tear-shaped amber stone.

  “I cannot believe that his lordship has chosen me,” Emma once again raved, and I considered her options. She was the prettiest of us; she’d inherited the beauty associated with high royalty, cheekbones and all. While I, more bookish, found gaiety and much joy with my tomes.

  He’d drugged me, attempting to wipe everything away, the voice inside of my head whispered. I wanted to punch a wall, or rather flay a lizard. The damn beast.

  Years from now, the way things were, my brother would rip all this away and explain to the world that I was mad, and this family never existed, and everyone in the town and keep would agree. It was best not to mourn the dead, they’d say. They didn’t hear us, anyway.

  Could it be that even the voice in my head seemed strange, misplaced? My thoughts whirled as much as Emma’s new dress, as she spun around in circles, despite mother’s qualms about the un-ladylikeness of it.

  “We must continue our lesson, girls,” Mama called, and she handed me a bejeweled dagger.

  Emma’s giggle broke through my trepidation, and I took the weapon. If this were the time to enjoy family once again, then I would hold on tight to it. I raced to Emma’s side, took her hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze.

  “Do you know why he chose me?” she asked. “Could his affection indeed be true, and as straight as an arrow?”

  I squinted and shook my head. A pang of pain in my head almost caused me to fall to my knees.

  “What is it? Have you taken ill?”

  “No, I’m fine. It must be the weather.”

  “But what of his highness, the prince? He seemed to be besotted with you.”

  “Besotted?” My memory moved like slow waves on the ocean, rising on a high crest to crash onto dry land. Besotted? I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I found him appealing, but romance could be rocky. I wasn’t ready to be smitten, to be a part of a grand love affair written about in books.

  Books? Again my present knowledge seemed to possess more than what this time said. As if time weaved together, of this that I knew to be real and a reality far, far away.

  The dragon plays a game with you, dear Tink.

  Tink? I knew that name. I concentrated on the voice a little more.

  Could this invisible wave be pulling me toward him, the man of whom she spoke? And could he undo it all…The prince? Yes, I remembered him. A part of me seemed to have always known him. He was not one I could so easily forget.

  I concentrated on his face, and recalled his voice. Yes! My prince.

  Aha, the dragon thought I would be easily fooled by his tricks. It will not be easy to best him, I thought to myself.

  “But he was also quite different. If he wasn’t the prince, I might even assume that he was a vampire. And vampires are outlawed.”

  “And what if I married him?” The words slipped from my lips.

>   Emma chortled. “You marry a vampire? You would never reduce your status with such.”

  “Not even for love?”

  “Love solves nothing, dear Abele, but creates even more issues. He may be of wealth, smart and unmarried, but his values are not our own, nor his sentiment. Our principles we must adhere to. Shall we not adhere to that of society, how then shall you survive? There is no place for a woman born of a gentleman but without a taler to her name. It is best not to make these arrangements with your heart, but with your head, and with Mother and Father’s guidance. To love a vampire? That would push us all to the outskirts of society, where we’d all have to shun you. It wasn’t long ago that our family were peasants and rose to the gentry. Is love worth such? He might be the richest in the kingdom, but he is not above our laws, or that of wealth. Money, property are what we need to survive. Maybe if you are lucky enough you can have it all.”

  Again, I didn’t understand my emotions. It was like two sides within me fighting for dominance. I squared my shoulders. “Yes, even if a human wife would make lots of money, I would only marry for love.”

  Emma hooked her arm with mine and shook her head. “Dearest Abele, then you are the silliest of fools.”

  LEIF

  On their way back to Keel, Leif attempted to push down the panic that crawled up his back. Something was wrong with Tink. He could feel it, her, pulling at him.

  Astride his horse, he sought to pay attention only to the road ahead. But the sound of the horses’ shoes clicking against the stone did nothing to abate that sixth sense.

  Throughout the ride, they’d been less than welcomed by the villagers and other travelers, most recognizing or assuming his vampiric appearance meant evil, or that he brought death. To them, his pallor was a little too unnatural. The spray-on tans of the twenty-first century must have made him appear as more of an oddity than even he’d expected.