By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(48)

So over this.

I spit fire at her, engulfing her in flames.

She shrieked, but a wave of her staff extinguished the flames, left her in the middle of a thick patch of smoke.

The bitch refused to die. Maybe because she was mostly dead?

When the smoke cleared she looked a little more like melted wax than the young sprite she pretended to be. Satisfaction surged through me. I opened my maw to hit her again, but a hand on my leg stilled me.

“You should stop while you’re behind,” Quinn called out. “It’s only a matter of time before my familiar roasts you or you become a dragon snack. You get that, right?”

“Let’s strike a deal, wizard.” Burningwood lowered her staff, staying well out of my immediate reach.

A deal? I waited to see what Burningwood had in mind. Mostly, I wanted to understand why Quinn spared her. He was right. I’d have barbequed her in another moment. He should let me. She’d already killed hundreds of creatures. We’d be doing the world a favor. Quinn patted my leg as he kept his eyes on Burningwood.

“What did you have in mind?”

“You want the horn. I can get it for you.”

“And the price?”

“You.” She swung her staff in his direction, shot her destructive magic.

Quinn had obviously been expecting something because at almost the same moment he vibrated, his hand still on me. A jolt went through my body, though it didn’t hurt, and when her spell hit it bounced off us and ricocheted back on her.

This time, she screeched, a dried up husk of a scream and fell to her knees. Her staff burst into flame. She dropped it, clutching her sides.

Huh, hadn’t expected that.

Skin that only moments ago could kindly be described as well-preserved now turned a deep brown and rippled in ever increasing pulses. Burningwood continued to scream, her back bowing at an unnatural angle, her fingers tearing at her skin. Flowers began to sprout along her hair, and branches shot through her body, spreading and growing at an astronomical rate. Then vines twined around her, and roots grew from her knees into the ground. I gaped. What in blazes did Quinn do?

“I reversed her magic through you. Pie gave me the idea when he said that dark magic turns on its user. You already have immunity to most black magic, so I turned that around and instead of draining your essence, it shot life into hers. It’s weird to see a spell in action that I’d practiced all these years, but could never actually do.”

We watched as she writhed, rooted to the spot, more tree limbs bursting forth from her body. A forked branch shot from her mouth, her face crumpling inward, bits falling away like old bark.

“I wasn’t honestly sure what would happen.” Quinn’s fingers dug into my skin, his attention riveted on the grotesque scene. “I figured life wouldn’t react well with all her powers of death.”

Um, an understatement to be sure. As he finished his explanation, her final scream cut off abruptly. An enormous tree grew in what had been Sahara Burningwood, branches still unfurling, and flowers the size of Quinn’s hand dotted the newly emerging foliage.

Wow, she must be pretty old to have such a thick trunk, I thought.

“Ancient,” Quinn agreed. Even the ground around us was affected. The withered trees began to crack and healthy shoots pushed through the husks. Then the swamp grass turned from a shriveled brown to a vibrant and lush green.

That’s some magic you got there, Quinn.

“Y-Yeah. I guess so.”

We traced our way back through the swamp, Quinn slumped against my neck.

Tired?

“That spell took a lot out of me. Do you mind if I rest and we can talk more once we reach the Outpost?”

I rumbled my assent and sped my steps, making sure Quinn was nestled snug in his place. With my new size and stamina, we made it back to the Outpost in short order. I lowered my head gently to the ground so he could dismount. He scrambled off me, stumbling a bit as he cradled his arm once again.

I nosed at him, almost knocking him over.

“Careful, big guy. You don’t know your own strength yet.” Quinn patted my snout. “We need to get you to change back. I don’t suppose you know how to do it?”

I shook my head. I didn’t have a clue.

“Maybe you just need to think about it.”

I did the equivalent of a shrug. Worth a try. Willing myself to change back to my human-like form, I waited. Nothing happened.

“Close your eyes and picture yourself as Twig,” he suggested.

I did as he asked. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded because I just really wanted to stomp around and test out my new body some more. I’d lived my whole life thinking I’d never have a dragon form, so this was incredibly exhilarating.

“Focus, Twig. I really need to get my arm seen to.”

I flinched. What was I thinking? I should be taking care of my mate. I couldn’t do it in this form now, so I needed to shift. Thinking of Quinn’s arm did the trick. My bones cracked and I grunted from the pain as my body shrank and reformed into human form. Still excruciating, yet not nearly as bad or as slow as the first shift. Hopefully, in time, it would be effortless.

I lay on the ground gasping for breath, my bones feeling achy and my muscles wobbly. Quinn rushed to my side, crouching.

“Are you okay?” His eyes were huge, his cheeks flushed. “Uh, I don’t suppose you packed a change of clothes in your knapsack?”