Chapter Five
“Tell me what you know about dragons,” I pressed.
Wanda tipped her glass back, swallowing the dregs of her cocktail. She smacked her lips once before offering me a lazy smile.
“They’re fantastic lovers. I remember this one called Gregory, who had a massive—”
“Ack!” I interrupted, waving my hands frantically, as though I could bat the explanation away. “No, that’s not what I meant! I don’t need to know how hedonistic they are. I need to know what you know about their magic.”
“Really, Poppy, you are such a prude.”
I frowned at her. “I’m really not, but anyway…”
Wanda leaned back in her chair, setting her empty glass delicately onto my countertop.
I took it as the request it was and started mixing another.
It seemed only fair if she was going to give me a primer on dragons.
The others were clustered around a poker match between Darla and Fifi, egging them on.
Personally, my money was on Darla. Anyone who could beat Death in a card game wasn’t someone to be trifled with.
“It’s always about the boring stuff,” Wanda said.
“Yes, the boring stuff. What can you tell me about them?”
She shrugged an elegant shoulder. “What anyone could tell you.”
“Which is?”
“That they’re huge and practically unstoppable. It’s fortunate that a lot of them settled down and decided not to continue scorching mundane cities. That used to be a favorite pastime for some of them.”
“Burning down villages?”
She nodded. “As well as looting, carrying off virgin sacrifices, and fighting knights.”
“They sound like the Vikings.”
She cocked her head to the side at that. “Yeah, similar but fire-breathing and massive with scales and wings.”
“So not like Vikings at all.”
“Right. Although… the European ones were nasty characters. Less so in the East. A lot of those dragons are still alive, hiding in mountains and inspiring poets or philosophers occasionally. They’re all a pretty secretive bunch, so I can’t tell you a lot more than that.”
I frowned because that wasn’t much. It was basically the same thing ChatGPT could have told me. “Do they have magic?”
Wanda nodded. “Sure. Some of them can perform fire magic beyond the ordinary ‘razing cities to ash’ thing. They fuel protection spells with their dragon fire. It’s strong stuff.
It’s similar to what dwarves can do with metals.
They can imbue a lot of anti-harm and uncrossing magic into sigils.
Your lab should be completely fireproof. ”
“What about acid proof?” I asked.
Wanda rolled her eyes. “You can’t account for every emergency, Poppy. Just embrace that you’ve got a gift. You’ll be happier if you stop worrying about what could go wrong and focus on what could go right.”
I stared at her for a second before saying, “You know, I think that’s the most optimistic thing I’ve ever heard come from your lips. I’m proud of you, Wanda.”
Wanda’s lip curled. “Oh don’t get maudlin, Poppy. Blame it on the alcohol. I’m sure I’ll be back to my moody self by morning.”
I smiled a little to myself. Wanda wasn’t half as hard a character as she made herself out to be. She was actually very endearing. She’d also curse me if she heard me thinking as much.
And speaking of curses...
“Are they resistant to magic at all?” I asked.
“You’re not going to hurt your contractors, Poppy,” Wanda said, sighing as though I was hopelessly misguided in my worry.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Sure it isn’t. If you don’t want to be honest with me, just say so. At this point, I’m drunk enough not to care.”
“Should I cut you off?”
She glowered at me. I just laughed.
“You know, you might be able to make that glare work better if you didn’t have a mudslide mustache.”
She immediately wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “I have a mustache?”
“Well, now it’s more a fu manchu.”
She dabbed again, then glared up at me for the second time. “If you cut me off, I’ll be forced to hex you into next week.”
“I’m just making sure you aren’t going to be sick all over my house.”
Wanda waved away my concern. “As if I’d toss my cookies.”
“I’ve seen you do it before.”
“Blah.”
“And I’m not worried about Smith. Not directly, at least. I’m more worried about whether I can deliver. I mean, what if he builds me a lab and I can’t come through on the gemstone he asked for? Then what?”
Wanda considered me thoughtfully (well, as thoughtfully as she could when she was beyond inebriated) before nodding. “I believe in you.”
“At least one of us does.”
“And the good news is that his sister—”
“—niece—”
“—whatever is already gone. So even if you fail to turn her into an emerald, it’s not like you can hurt her since she’s just ash.” Hiccup. Another hiccup. “Do I still have a mustache?”
“No, now it looks like a little beard on your chin—like you’re a member in a 90s grunge band from Seattle.”
Another frown. But I couldn’t say my mind was on Wanda’s mudslide facial hair. Instead, it was stuck on the fact that there was a good chance I wouldn’t be able to deliver. I mean, my alchemy was new to me. And I had no idea how hard it would be to turn ashes into gemstones.
“You can do this, Poppy.” Hiccup. Then something I was pretty sure was a burp.
I sighed. “I’m just a novice. What if I can’t do it?”
“You will. You’re a witch in my coven. You can do anything you set your mind to.”
“Oh, Wands, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said!”
“You know I hate it when you call me Wands.” She let out a groan of protest but didn’t actually push me away when I leaned across the table to give her a hug. She sloshed a little of her drink on my sleeve, but I didn’t care.
“Love you too.”
“Oh put an ice cube in it, Poppy. This is just embarrassing.”
I grinned. “You love me, and I’m your best friend.”
She sighed. “If you insist.”
I wasn’t sure what I might have said to that but a knock at the door saved me the trouble of finding a reply.
When I crossed over to it though, I found no one waiting for me on the front step.
Instead, there was a box full of old books.
My cousin Lydia had followed me from the living room to the front door and looked downright eager at the sight of the books.
“Books?” I asked, lifting one from the pile. The front cover and the edges were extremely worn. And the spine was almost worse. Even though the title appeared to be penned in a different language, I picked up the word “Alchemy”.
“What’s that,” Lydia said as she reached down and retrieved a little note that had fallen down one side of the box. She held it up and I could make out Smith’s signature. “I think you just received treasure from a dragon.”
“He brought me Alchemy books?” I asked.
Lydia nodded. “I’d say he wants to help you succeed.”
I gave the book in my hand a narrow-eyed look. “Alchemie für Anf?nger,” I said slowly, drawing the words out as I tried to get the pronunciation right. “I’m pretty sure that’s German. But no clue what it means.”
“I took German in high school,” Lydia offered. “And though I’m not fluent by any means, I’d guess that one there is basically an Alchemy for Dummies book.”
If ever a book was suited to me, this one was it. Because where alchemy was concerned, I felt like the biggest dummy.