By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(47)

17





I spun toward the voice and Quinn’s thoughts urged caution. Probably a good thing I couldn’t talk because I would have told her that Quinn and I dared . . . right before I crunched her up.

Perhaps it was better if Quinn did the talking.

Sahara Burningwood fluttered before us defiantly, a slip of a sprite, with long, flowing hair and skin smooth and unblemished, but also somehow unnatural and chalky. She didn’t look quite alive, and maybe without her soul she wasn’t. The effect was chilling—like she’d been cast in wax. She was no larger than Drutilda, though unlike Drutilda’s vibrancy and curves, she was gaunt, her wings a lusterless shade of white like the trees. Burningwood held a long gnarled staff carved at the top into the shape of a tombstone. Boy, did she know how to have fun.

I grumbled, let smoke pour from my nose. She seemed thoroughly unimpressed. Probably because of the wings.

“It’s not the wings,” Quinn whispered. I could practically feel him shake his head.

“You don’t scare me, dragon.” Burningwood’s voice carried over the eerie silence, a scratchy laugh conveying years way beyond her appearance and making the scales along my back quiver. I bared my teeth. Quinn’s calming hand rested on my neck and I pushed back against it. Fine, he could handle her. For now.

“We didn’t mean to intrude on your solitude, Ms. Burningwood. We—”

“If you didn’t mean to, you wouldn’t be here, wizard,” she pointed out in that creepy low voice.

“Uh, true, you make a good point. What I mean to say is that we’ve only come because we want to make an arrangement with you for the unicorn horn you received from Lapus Rainbowpebbles.”

She grinned, her skin pulling back from her face until the outline of her skull became clear. Creepy.

“An arrangement, you say?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Quinn shifted uneasily on my back.

“How unfortunate for you that I no longer have the horn.”

“You destroyed it?” I heard the sorrow in Quinn’s voice.

“Destroyed? No. Too valuable. I traded it.”

Can you sense it, Twig? Quinn thought.

I raised my snout and sniffed.

No, it’s not here, I replied. I sent my senses out further. Still nothing. Dammit.

“To whom did you trade it, if you don’t mind me asking?” Quinn kept his voice light.

“No, I don’t mind.” That weird grin again. “A fairy named Nyx Dapplepool.”

I snapped my teeth when I heard his name, a growl escaping my chest before I could rein it in. There wasn’t a fairy in the Elder I hated more than him.

“Easy, Twig.” Quinn soothed, picking up on my anger. “Well then, we’re sorry to have bothered you, Ms. Burningwood. We’ll just be going now.”

“I have never had a dragon nor a wizard in my army. Seeing as you destroyed my current crop, I’ll take your lives in payment.”

Before I could lunge at her, a bolt of magic shot from her staff. I roared when the spell hit me, a chill running over my skin before my thick hide bounced it back at her. She flew backward into a clump of withered foliage, disappearing in the undergrowth.

Huh, that was easy.

“Don’t count your sprites before they die,” Quinn admonished. “Look.”

Burningwood rose from the tangled vegetation, her face set in a scowl. “Let’s try that again.”

Another bolt of magic shot from her staff, striking me in the foreleg. A frosty tendril snaked over my skin before her magic rebounded and struck her down. Again. I did my best to snicker. It would take some practice in this form.

I could do this all day. What was that expression? Like shooting mermen in a cask?

Do you think since she’s attacked me, I can eat her now?

“I’d rather you didn’t. No use having to explain to the Alphae Guild—”

Quinn squawked as another zap of magic struck my neck, next to his perch. The bolt bounced and struck a gnarled tree that then crumbled to ash. A little too close to home for my comfort. I had protection, but no guarantee Quinn did. Damn. I couldn’t let her hit him.

Apparently she clued into my thoughts because she threw another burst of her dark powers Quinn’s way.

“Twig, you don’t need to worry—”

I dodged, but my jerking motions unseated Quinn. He tumbled from my neck and hit the ground with a thump.

Burningwood chortled with a breathy glee, her staff pointing where Quinn lay. I roared and charged her, my jaws gnashing as I reached for her. She fumbled her aim, then scooted beneath my belly, her ancient form surprisingly spry. I swatted her with my tail as she neared it. She sailed through the air like a ragdoll and right through a window into the manor. Ouch, that had to hurt.

Well, that should be that.

Rounding as fast as my bulky form allowed, I returned to where Quinn dusted himself off.

You okay?

“Gotta get a saddle or something.” His disgruntled voice was music to my ears.

A sudden bright yellow glow sprung from his hands. He caught and absorbed another volley from Burningwood that I hadn’t seen coming.

Burningwood stumbled from the building, a trickle of blood running down her cheek. She bared her teeth in that ghastly grin. She raised her staff and pointed it in our direction.