Chapter Twenty-two
A vase tumbled from a side table, spinning in the air before smashing into a hundred shards.
Someone yelped as a chair toppled, narrowly missing their toes.
The zing of a spell whistled past, missing its target entirely and leaving a faint scorch mark on my wallpaper.
Another crash and a collective gasp swept through the guests.
I wheeled around, darting toward the noise.
Violetta and Wanda were already moving with surprising speed, considering they were in heels.
The room was a mess of overturned tables, spilled drinks, a cloud of dust, and glittering shards.
A creature crouched low in the wreckage, its small claws flashing as its wings beat like a hummingbird’s.
And seeing it now, I realized it looked nothing like a dragon.
Yes, it had scales and wings, and yes, it was some sort of amphibian, but it was missing the regality of a dragon.
“Everyone, stay back!” I shouted, my voice slicing through the panic.
Violetta raised her hands, weaving a protective ward, while Wanda muttered a quick incantation, her spell arcing toward the creature only to ping harmlessly off a wall.
The kobold hissed, baring needle teeth. Its skin was a mottled rust-red, rough and scaly, and a thin, whip-like tail flicked behind it.
Eyes the color of embers glimmered from under a narrow, pointed snout.
His little clawed hands grasped a crude dagger.
What might have been the strangest thing about it this time—it was wearing clothes.
And they looked like they were from an earlier century.
He had on a loose cotton shirt with two holes for his wings, leather jerkin, worn pants.
And, even stranger: work boots. If not for the scales and tail, he might have passed for a brownie.
I think I might have stayed frozen like that, if not for Burns.
Because while I stood in the doorway, staring at this thing, he was already on the move.
The shining miniature dragon dove like a merciless comet toward the kobold.
His claws scrabbled across the hardwood, sending a bookshelf teetering before it crashed into the sofa.
The little kobold skittered across the room, shrieking and brandishing his dagger at Smith’s fairy dragon.
Another vase flew through the air as the dragon’s tail whipped forward, shattering against the wall.
Feathers and bits of upholstery (from what I didn’t even know but was already bemoaning the fact that there went another piece of my furniture) puffed into the air as it dove under the coffee table, only to spring up and slash at Burns’ flank.
A streak of red-gold scales met the glinting steel with a screech that made the windows rattle.
Cushions, lamps, and framed pictures became collateral damage as the two twisted and lunged, the tiny dragon snapping its tiny jaws, the kobold desperately trying to stay ahead of Burns’ teeth. Debris hung in the air, catching the light from the overturned lamp.
Finally, Burns lunged, pinning the kobold against the wall.
The little creature hissed, claws scraping the paint, and the dragon’s eyes widened in frustration as it realized the fight was far from over.
Somewhere in the chaos, a coffee table leg had snapped in half, and the living room, once tidy and calm, now resembled the aftermath of a tiny tornado.
I skidded to a stop, a vial of the elixir I’d just created clutched tight in my hand.
My heart was hammering. The chaos hit me all at once—shattered furniture, splintered picture frames—everyone in a stunned silence.
Smith was standing there, ready to make a move if he had to.
But he hadn’t yet because he remembered our plan. Hopefully anyway.
“Hey! Stop that!” Without thinking, I flung myself between the combatants. Burns recoiled for a split second, but then stilled when I pressed the potion to its scales, anointing it with a quick sweep of my hand.
A glittering shimmer ran across the dragon’s body, and suddenly its movements became sharper, faster, luck twisting in its favor.
It lunged at the Kobold with renewed vigor, snapping its jaws.
The little creature tried to dodge Burns, but its foot caught on a toppled chair, sending it sprawling.
With a final, triumphant twist of his tail, Burns cornered the defeated Kobold, who seemed to collapse in front of him, as if giving in to its fate.
Then, with surprising gentleness, Burns scooped the kobold up, cradling the limp creature in its claws, and set it carefully at my feet.
He wagged his tail as if waiting for praise (or maybe a treat), eyes shining with pride.
I crouched down and scratched behind the dragon’s ears.
“Good boy,” I said. “That was impressive—but next time, maybe we fight somewhere that isn’t my house.”
“I second that,” Smith said as he appeared behind me. Then, as if everyone was suddenly in motion again, they were all crowding around us to see what in the world had just happened.
“What is it?” I heard someone say.
“Looks like a strange little reptile,” Finn answered.
“It’s a kobold,” Smith said. “Just like I thought it was.”
That was when the little kobold seemed to come to, and it hissed, its claws scraping across the wood, tail flicking with agitation, but I reached down and held it there, in place. “Release me at once!” it said, shocking the hell out of me because I hadn’t imagined it could talk.
“Or what?” I asked. “It seems to me like I’m the wronged party here. What’s more: we know you’re being sent here for a reason. So, who do you work for?”
The kobold’s small chest rose and fell, claws flexing nervously. Its ears twitched.
“And why do you keep attacking Poppy’s family?” Violetta added.
Wanda circled slightly, stopping just to my right. She placed a gentle hand on my elbow, as if to steady me. For a long, tense moment, only the kobold moved, its tail flicking slowly, deliberately, as though weighing the answer it was about to give. Or whether it should give one at all.
The kobold managed to twist out of my grasp, claws scraping against the floor.
I lunged, fingers brushing the edge of its scaly shoulder, but it flattened itself like a cornered cat and shot between my boots with a furious hiss.
Chairs toppled as it barreled through my living room, weaving through the stunned circle of onlookers.
For a moment, all I could do was stare as the little creature darted toward the door, tail lashing, shoulder-checking ankles with surprising force as it fought its way to freedom.
“Not so fast, you little bastard,” Maverick growled, stepping out from the shadows. He held his hands up, fingers splayed, and the air thrummed with a dark, metallic energy. Blood magic, raw, potent, and alive billowed out of him. I could feel it like iron under my tongue.
The creature screeched, slamming against the wall as Maverick’s power anchored it in place. Its claws scratched uselessly against the invisible bond holding it there as a small hiss escaped its jaws. It continued to thrash, but Maverick’s dark magic was unyielding.
Maverick’s voice was low, calm. “Answer her. Now. Who sent you, and why are you here?”
“Master sent me,” the thing responded in a strange voice that was raspy but also high-pitched. “I wasn’t supposed to leave until I returned with his possessions.”
“What possessions?” I demanded.
“His books,” the creature responded.
“And your master is the one who cursed the dragon girl?” I asked.
The Kobold gave me a furious expression but didn’t respond.
Until Maverick did something with his magic, which seemed to tighten around the thing’s neck, and its eyes began to bulge out of its head.
Then Maverick eased up on it and it panted a few times before it nodded at me in a way that said it was ready to confess.
“Master needs the books back.”
“Explain,” Smith said.
“Master needs the spells in the book.”
I looked back at the little kobold, who remained silent, but his breath was definitely coming faster. His eyes darted this way and that, like he was searching for any way out.
“Who is your master?” I asked it.
“I can’t tell you. Master will be furious if I say too much.”
“Who sent you?” Maverick repeated. “Don’t make me tighten my magic around you again.”
“And why did you wreck my house?” I added, leaning closer, trying to look the little thing in the eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I need answers. I want to know who put you up to this.”
The kobold scowled. “Master Klaus.”
“Who is that?” Maverick asked, looking at me but the kobold answered.
“Klaus Schwarzkopf—the man who wrote the books Smith gave me.”
The kobold nodded. “Master is the final heir to a dynasty of half-mad alchemists. He’s been dying for years.”
The words seemed to hang in the still air. Even Maverick’s spell hummed quieter.
The kobold swallowed, throat bobbing.
“Zen is it true zat Herr Klaus made zee Philosopher’s Stone?” Olga suddenly piped up. “As I read in zee book?”
The kobold nodded. “He once made the stone, yes.”
“Why did he make the stone?” Maverick asked.
“Master used the stone to extend his life. And it worked. For a while. But someone corrupted the core of the spell. Master didn’t know.
Master drank the serum he made from the stone as he always did, thinking it was pure.
But it was not. And now, the essence of the spell is killing him.
Eating Master from the inside. Like… rot. ”
Violetta’s lips pressed into a thin line. Wanda crossed her arms. I didn’t know what to think.
“So this,” I asked, motioning to the wrecked furniture and scattered charms around the room, “is because he’s dying?”
The kobold’s gaze darted between us. “Master is trying to fix what happened to him. And he needs his books to understand what went wrong.”
“How did he lose them in the first place?” I asked, remembering how Smith had happened upon them at a garage sale.
“Master’s own house was broken into many years ago. And the books were taken. He has been trying to find them ever since.”
“And he tracked them here?” I asked.
The kobold nodded. A long silence fell then, but the threads of Maverick’s blood magic continued to pulse, steady as a heartbeat.
I sighed, using the wall to steady myself as I thought about what in the world I was going to do now. “Well. I guess I’m gonna need to put this new power of mine to use.”
The goddess tingled in my fingertips, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Healing and renewal. That was what I’d gained from the goddess. I was fairly sure I could heal anything or anyone now. With enough time, faith, and elixir.
“I’m pretty sure I can save your master’s life, book or no book.”