Origin of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector #3)(45)

She was right. It was really the only thing I could do. It would be hard enough to defeat Drakon without extra worry dragging me down. Some might even say it was impossible.

I had a feeling it was going to take everything I had to prove them wrong.





Chapter Twelve





The next morning, we all met at Potions & Pastilles promptly at seven. My mother had departed last night after our chat, and Cass and Del had immediately descended upon my apartment, questions in tow. They’d wanted to know all about her.

While I still didn’t remember a lot of my past the way they did, I had an opportunity to make new memories. I’d take that any day. The three of us had fallen asleep at my place sometime around midnight.

Now, we all gathered around the bar at P&P, coffees in hand, courtesy of Claire. They’d closed P&P today so that they could help us and so there would be no observers when I untangled the prophecy using the Vessel of Truth.

Cass, Del, and I sat at barstools at the counter. Roarke, Ares, and Aidan stood behind us.

“I’ll be right out!” Connor shouted from the back, where his workshop was located.

I glanced at Ares, nerves skating through me. He smiled. “It’ll be all right. Perhaps the prophecy won’t be bad.”

I laughed. “Was that a joke?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Even if it is a good prophecy, I bet Drakon has a plan to use it for evil.”

Ares nodded. “Fair assessment.”

The door from the kitchen swung open and Connor walked out, a vial full of gray potion in his hands. He held it aloft. “Ta da!”

“Looks delicious.” I grimaced. Though Connor was one of the top potion makers in the world, not all of them tasted great. I opened the wooden box I’d put on the bar and removed the beaker, then handed it over to Connor. “You can pour it in here.”

I held my breath as he unstoppered the bottle. Ademius had said that if we didn’t get the potion right, it could destroy the beaker. I had faith in Connor, but still, it was hard to shake the nerves. So much rode on this.

Carefully, Connor poured the liquid into the vessel. When it didn’t explode or shatter, the air rushed from my lungs and my shoulders relaxed. For a moment, the beaker glowed with a pale light.

“I think it worked,” Cass said.

“Here’s to defeating Drakon.” I gave everyone one last look, then put my lips to the beaker and drank.

At first, nothing happened. It did taste worse than Connor’s invisibility potion, however, which had the unfortunate flavor of mud. This was like mud plus old socks. I gagged slightly, then drained the beaker. Once the last drop was down my throat, warmth flowed through my veins. Kinda like Four Roses, but my favorite bourbon didn’t come with a side of clarity and understanding. It also tasted a whole lot better.

I set the beaker on the table and closed my eyes, calling up the prophecy on instinct. The only two words that I’d understood floated in my mind— dragons and return.

Energy fizzled through my mind. I gasped, clutching the counter, as more words appeared. It was like a curtain was being drawn away. Words floated through my head.



Deep in the place where the earth meets the sun and the mist meets the magma, the Phoenix will give rise to the dragon’s return or the Triumvirate will engender their fall.



I gasped, opening my eyes. “I understand the prophecy.”

“What is it?” Del asked.

“Not good.” My stomach turned. I met everyone’s eyes. “Somehow, the three of us will be the end of the dragons.”

“Us?” Cass’s voice was stark.

“Yeah. He’s not just after me. He’s after all of us.” My stomach twisted at the idea that Drakon wanted my deirfiúr as well. The stakes had been high before—but they were being hunted too? It shook my world. I was used to them being in dangerous situations, but this was so much bigger. I repeated the prophecy to them.

“Fall?” Del asked. “That’s like… death or destruction. But they’re already dead, right?”

No one had heard of or seen dragons in centuries. They’d disappeared one day, gone forever. They were assumed dead, but no one really knew. “The prophecy may be suggesting they aren’t.”

“If they still exist, he’ll have to find them first,” Ares said. “And it sounds like the prophecy gives a clue to their location.”

“It’s does, but it’s vague.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Deep in the place where the earth meets the sun and the mist meets the magma.” Del recited the prophecy. “That sounds like it’s part of a myth or something. It feels familiar, almost.”

“It’s another clue. One that Drakon is capable of tracking if he’s given enough time.” I shivered at the knowledge of how capable. He had resources and power we didn’t even know about. “Maybe that’s why Drakon wants us––we’re supposed to help him find the dragons with our dragon sense.”

“Can we?” Cass asked.

I shrugged. “We might as well try. It’s not a lot to go on, but you never know.”

The three of us went silent, each calling upon our dragon senses. I recalled the prophecy, using it as fuel. Seconds passed, then minutes. I pushed my magic, trying to force my dragon sense to work.