Origin of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector #3)(4)

The mixture sizzled slightly, as if boiling, then Mordaca held her hand over the puddle. I felt her magic flare, the taste of whiskey on the back of my throat.

The liquid flashed with light, then turned to a silvery dust.

“Neat,” Del murmured.

“More than neat,” Aredeca said. “That’s top-level magic.”

She picked up the slab of stone and held it near the beaker, then blew the dust onto the clay vase. Magic swirled on the air, feeling like strong ocean breeze against my cheeks. It came from the beaker.

I held my breath as Aerdeca and Mordaca touched the clay surface, closing their eyes for concentration.

“Yes. A terrible person last used this beaker.” Aerdeca shuddered.

The mob boss. But what had he wanted with the thing? “What does the enchantment do?”

Mordaca’s brow furrowed. “I think… I think it is a revealer of prophecies.”

“What?” I asked.

“It’s a vessel of truth.” Aerdeca’s voice was breathless. “There are a few in the world. If you drink from it, you can understand hidden secrets. Information that has been protected or scrambled.”

Holy crap. I glanced at Del, who was looking at me with raised brows.

“Can it be used again?” I asked. “Or was it a one-time thing?”

“It could be used again,” Aerdeca said.

Excitement flared in my chest.

“How?” Del demanded.

Mordaca frowned. “You must mix a special potion and drink it from the beaker.”

“So we need the recipe,” I said.

“That’s the problem,” Aerdeca said. “Whoever made this beaker also knew the recipe for the potion. But this thing is ancient.”

“And whoever developed the recipe for the potion has got to be long dead.” Something unfamiliar flickered in Mordaca’s eyes. Worry, almost. Or fear.

But nah, that was crazy. Mordaca wasn’t afraid of anything.

“So there’s no one else who could know the recipe?” I asked.

“Only the one who crafted this beaker,” Aerdeca said.

Dismay opened a black cavern in my chest. Shit.

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Del asked.

Mordaca shook her head. “Not about the beaker, no.”

Damn.

“Then what do we owe you?” I asked, my mind already racing ahead to how we turn this devastating information into something good.

Mordaca and Aerdeca spoke at once. “Nothing.”

Shocked, my jaw dropped. These women, though friends, would charge you to use their bathroom. “What? Why?”

Aerdeca signed, her gaze drifting to the beaker. “Whoever used that last… You must stop him, Nix.”

I knew that. But how did she? Mordaca and Aerdeca had fought at our side before, but they didn’t know about the Triumvirate or our fated tasks.

“We’re not stupid,” Mordaca said. “You are fighting something stronger than you. Darker than you. This vase makes that clear. The dark magic that is smeared upon it made my skin crawl.”

“We won’t charge you.” Aerdeca’s gaze zeroed in on me. “But you must defeat whoever last held this beaker. His evil intentions are all over it. I’ve never felt darkness like that. And I’m no stranger to black magic.”

I shuddered. “I thought you weren’t a seer.”

“I’m not. But I can read the magic, and that thing scares the shit out of me. Whoever used that beaker last learned something when he drank from the goblet. The vessel of truth untangled a prophecy for him.”

Yeah, a prophecy that I wanted to understand. One about dragons that had been encrypted by ancient monks called Cathars. If the mob boss now understood what the prophecy meant, I needed to as well. It was our only link to him. Our only way to find him.

“We know you’re meant for something important. We don’t know what, but Cass and Del have fought their battles. It is time for yours.” Mordaca pointed to the goblet. “This is yours.”

My mouth dried. “Yes, it is.”

“Well, then, we’re not charging you.” The corner of Aerdeca’s mouth tilted up. “This time.”

They had our backs. My back. The message was clear. And terrifying.

Though it was good to have allies, knowing that they—these powerful women—were afraid of whatever was coming made my skin grow cold.

I had to fight something that scared even Aerdeca and Mordaca.

And I had no idea what it was.





Chapter Two





Del and I left the party in silence, climbing into the car. As soon as we were in and had shut the doors, she turned to me. “If we can use our dragon senses to find who made this beaker, I can turn back time so we can speak to him. Get the potion.”

“The least we can do is try.” Though I had my doubts our dragon senses could work with so little to go on.

I locked the car doors and removed the beaker from the box. The clay was rough under my fingertips, history speaking through the material and the design.

But it wasn’t telling me what I needed to know. Who had made this damned thing? And where could I find him? Or his body, since he was probably dead.

I called upon my dragon sense, begging it to help me find the creator. I focused on the feeling of the clay beneath my fingers, the cool irregularity of the surface. But I got nothing. No matter how hard I tried, my dragon sense lay dormant.