Chapter Thirty
I squeezed Bri’s shoulder. “She isn’t a witch.”
“I wasn’t referring to Bri,” Freya said gently.
I waited for an explanation, until it dawned on me there were only three of us in this conversation. I laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?” I nudged Bri with my elbow and hissed, “What is she talking about?”
Freya smiled, serene and knowing and witchy in a way that reminded me of Marcail. No wonder they were friends. “Willow,” she said, as if I were the numpty who couldn’t keep up.
None of this made sense. Bri wasn’t technically a witch, but she had magic, while I knew with utter certainty that I wasn’t a witch at all.
Technically, hypothetically, theoretically, or otherwise.
Not a single adverb accounted for my being a witch.
It seemed Freya Lewis was a dafty, which would have been a very good thing to know before we went to her for advice.
She continued to stare at me, serene and seemingly sane. “Come now, Willow. You must have realized it.”
I shook my head. “Realized what?”
She reached through the bars, offering me her hand. “I know you’ve repressed it so deeply you can hardly feel it, but your magic is there.”
“Where?” I asked, looking over my body as though Freya had casually mentioned I had a spider crawling up my skirt.
She smiled again. “Inside you, Willow. It’s just waiting for you to release it.”
I shook my head more vehemently. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lewis. Freya. But you’ve got the wrong lass. I’m no more magical than that moldy pile of straw.”
She and Bri released identical sighs, which grated on my already raw nerves.
“Instead of standing here spewing utter nonsense, why don’t you see if you can do something that will actually get us out of this place!
” I squeezed my eyes shut and was surprised to feel cool tears streaming down my flaming cheeks.
“Please. Bri doesn’t deserve this. Even if she’s not a witch, she’s a good person worthy of your help. ”
“Willow,” Bri whispered, taking my hand. “Listen to her.”
“You listen. This … what she’s saying? It’s not possible.” Of all the things I knew about myself, the fact that I was anything but special was the one I’d always counted on. I was so ordinary, in fact, that my father would rather die chasing magical items than live to take care of me.
Besides, Marcail had said witches could only be born to witch mothers, and while my father hadn’t told me much about mine, I was positive he would have let me know I was descended from one. What would be more exciting to a man like my father than to have a magical daughter?
I shook my head, my eyes still closed, though a small voice was whispering in my head, And yet …
I thought back to the day we’d met Marcail, how strangely she had looked at me when I started reading the grimoire.
The way something invisible had passed between her and Agatha in the library.
Marcail’s comment about my father’s feelings about witches.
Wexley wondering if I’d been the one to make the objects in our shoppe magical.
My gaze lifted to Bri’s. “Magic?” I whispered. “That’s doolally.”
Bri only smiled and shook her head at me like I was the world’s biggest fool. Maybe I was. “Yes, Willow. Magic.”
Realization crept slowly over me. “You knew.”
“I wasn’t sure at first. It was so repressed it was hard to tell, but I knew there was something different about you.”
It took me a second to process her words. “If you suspected, why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, my voice thick.
“Because I figured it was repressed for a reason.” She released a soft Bri sigh. “But when I touched you the first time, I knew for sure. That surge of power wasn’t all from me.”
My jaw worked, though no sound came out.
“Marcail also suspected, but she told me not to tell you,” she added, placing a tentative hand on my shoulder. “I would have otherwise.”
Marcail couldn’t know I’d come here searching for the dragon egg, but she’d encouraged Bri to meet with Freya, even knowing we wouldn’t find the blossom. If she thought I was a witch, why not tell me when we were in Abundance?
Then again, would I have believed her if she had told me? Even now, it was almost impossible to accept. I closed my eyes again, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“Think about it,” Bri said. “Your father owned a magical cabinet of curiosities. He wasn’t a sham. He knew some of those items were real. They just needed to have the magic drawn out of them.”
“Then why didn’t he say something?” I asked, my voice pitifully small.
If this was true, then all this time, magic had been right here, inside of me.
And if Da had known, then he’d done his best to surround me with magic, even though it cost him everything.
He’d let himself be called a liar and a scam artist, and worse, lost any money he ever had. For what?
“Hey,” Bri whispered, catching my tears with the side of her finger. “You taught me something about magic, too.”
I croaked a hollow laugh. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“You taught me that magic isn’t a bad thing in its own right, because it represents something we all need.
Hope. Because if a broom can fly and a stuffed rabbit can speak, then imagine what we can do.
We all have the potential to become more than what we are.
That’s magic, Willow.” She smiled. “And that’s worth believing in. ”
I sniffed, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “You really think so?”
“With all my heart.” Bri embraced me, enveloping me in her warmth and softness. No one had hugged me like this—with all their being—since Da died. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed it until now.
When she released me, I wiped my tears off my chin with my shoulder and turned to Freya. “I don’t … I don’t know what to say.” For the first time in my life, I was speechless.
“You don’t need to say anything. What you need to do is act.
” Freya glanced over her shoulder as the prisoners, who had been silent all this time, began to rouse as if waking from a nap.
“My perfume’s effects are wearing off and the guard will return soon.
Fate has guided you both this far. Between the two of you, your magic, and a dragon egg, you have everything you need to escape from this place. ”
“How do you know about … Never mind.” Of course she knew about the egg. She seemed to know about everything.
“Torion and I will be waiting to help you when you get free.” She stepped back, smiling. “Be quick about it, would you? I’m afraid if you spend too long in here, you’ll never stop reeking.”
She glided down the dark hallway, and I wondered if any of this had actually happened, if I’d been dreaming the whole time. As soon as she disappeared, however, the inmates began to shout and rattle the bars on their cells.
“What do we do now?” I asked Bri.
She started to chew on a fingernail, then abruptly dropped her hand, likely remembering we were surrounded by filth.
“Between us, your magic, and the dragon egg…” Bri led me farther back into the cell, away from the prying eyes of the other prisoners.
“What did Mr. Wexley say about it? That it grants immortality?”
I nodded. “I don’t know what that means in practice, though. Does it make me invincible? Does it mean I won’t age but I can still be killed?” I reached into the pocket I’d sewn into my skirt and pulled out the egg. It was warm in my hands, and very heavy.
It took a moment before I realized that it wasn’t just warm from my body heat, and that the soft glow emanating from it was growing stronger.
“What’s happening?” I asked Bri, doing my best to shield the light so no one else would see.
“Magic. Obviously.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can see that. But what does it mean?” I scratched my head, trying to reassure myself it was too soon for lice to have moved in already.
“Let me think. Dragon bones do what their respective body parts do. A breastbone gives invisible armor, a wing bone gives the power of flight.”
“Right,” Bri said as I straightened.
“Mr. Wexley said the dragon egg grants immortality to the beholder.” The egg had grown so hot it was almost painful to hold. “But if what’s in here is an entire baby dragon, it should do more than that. It should give me all the powers of a dragon.” Including …
“Um, Willow.”
“What?” I asked, distracted.
“You’re glowing.”
I looked down at my hands and realized the light spilling from between my fingers wasn’t coming from the egg.
It was coming from me. I glanced up to find all the other prisoners staring at me, their mouths open in disbelief.
Well, that has certainly shut them up. I was impressed with own my ability to be smug at a time like this, even as another part of my brain was screaming at me to pay attention to the fact that I was as bright as a torch and growing brighter by the second.
My eyes met Bri’s. “Dragons breathe fire,” we said in unison.
“What have you got there?” a prisoner a few cells down shouted.
Another prisoner chimed in. “Aye, what is that?”
“I think we’d best call for the guards,” another man hissed. “Unless you plan to share.”
Bri and I reached for each other. “What do we do?” she whispered.
“I don’t know, but we’d better decide quickly. If they call for the guards and the egg is taken, we’ll have nothing. This is likely our only chance.”
I gripped the egg tighter, the heat almost unbearable now. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it,” I said to Bri, but deep in my belly, I felt something beginning to build. This entire situation was mad, but then, what hadn’t been the past few weeks?
“Scratch that,” I said. “Stand back. Here goes nothing.”
I inhaled as I leaned down to the lock of our cell and opened my mouth, releasing a breath from deep inside.
Flames erupted from my mouth, instantly melting the iron.
I clamped my jaws shut as the door swung outward, touching my lips and half expecting to find they’d been charred off. But there wasn’t even a blister.
“Holy shit,” Bri said behind me.
Holy shite, indeed. There was no time to process anything. I stuffed the egg into my pocket and grabbed Bri’s hand. “Let’s go.”
By now all the prisoners were shouting for us to release them. We ran for the exit, the shrieks growing in intensity. As we rounded the corner, two guards were already barreling toward us.
“Oi!” one of them shouted. “How’d you get out of your cell?”
“Now what?” Bri cried.
I wasn’t interested in hurting anyone, but I would do what it took to save Bri.
I inhaled again and opened my mouth, releasing another burst of flame.
As one guard’s shirt caught fire and the other attempted to put it out, we shoved past them and ran for the stairs leading to the main floor of the prison.
“We can’t kill anyone,” Bri said from beside me as we panted up the stairs. “I refuse to add murder to my list of crimes.”
“Noted,” I agreed, releasing a small puff of smoke.
We skidded to a stop in the main hall. I hadn’t been paying enough attention the night we were brought in, and I had no idea which way led to freedom.
“What other magic do dragons have?” Bri shouted. More guards were running toward us, their faces contorted in fury.
“Incredibly strong armor,” I said, shoving her behind me. “Hold on.”
Instead of slowing as the guards approached, I bolted forward, Bri’s hands gripping my waist. Not only was I inhumanly fast, but the guards seemed to fall over as easily as bowling pins when I hit them.
“That way!” Bri pointed over my shoulder to a massive door, where three more guards waited with clubs in their hands.
They shouted for us to stop, but when I lowered my head and charged, they exchanged startled glances and scattered. I hit the door at full speed, slamming it open and squashing a guard on the other side.
“Whoopsie,” I said as we burst onto the street, blinking against the morning sun.
“It’s daytime,” Bri gasped. “Our trial could start any minute.”
Armed men in uniform were streaming toward us, blocking our escape path. I didn’t know what the limits of my powers were, but I doubted I could take on an entire army.
“Willow,” Bri whispered, shivering in fear as she gripped me tighter.
What was it that Wexley had said that night at the docks, when Torion had tried to sell him a breast plate instead of a scapula?
Yes, but it won’t make me fly, now will it?
“Do you trust me?” I asked as I turned to Bri, my heart pounding so hard I wasn’t sure if it was dragon magic or my own fear.
Her wide eyes searched mine. “What?”
“Do you trust me, Bri? I know I’ve betrayed you so many times and I’ve been selfish and horrid and I’m a terrible friend and I promise I’ll make it all up to you someday, but I need to know if you trust me. Right now, in this moment.”
“Yes,” she said, starting to cry. “I don’t know why, but I trust you, Willow.”
“Good.” I wrapped my arms around her as she closed her eyes, said a silent prayer that I could do better than a sodding broomstick, and did the thing dragons are most notorious for:
I flew.