The Box Omnibus #1 (The Box, The Journal, The Sword) (29 page)

When I come to, I remember what happened and I feel like a dork. How could I have let this happen?

The worst part is when I glance around
, there’s no longer a dragon staring at me. Instead, the teen boy version hangs back as far as he can from me while looking sheepish. I’ve missed my chance to see my first and possibly only dragon, and in doing so, made him think I’m a wuss. 

“I didn’t faint,” I say as I force myself to my feet. I’m slower than usual because I’m feeling woozy and my headache is as
awful as ever. “I was just so impressed I had to lie down for a minute.”

His mouth twitches as though he’s holding back a smile. “It seemed like you fainted.”

“You’re wrong.” Time to change the subject. “So, you’re a dragon, huh?” Smooth.

“All my life.”

I shake out my dress, though I’m not too worried about it being wrinkled or dirty. It couldn’t make me appear any less attractive than it already does.

“And people call you ‘Dragon?’“ I ask. “Weren’t you ever given a name by your parents?”

“I’ve been here my entire life.” He doesn’t seem nearly as upset as I would be if I’d been stuck in one place my entire life. “I’ve never met my parents, and the wizards never believed a name was necessary.”

“Your
whole life?” The items scattered around the room have a new meaning to me now. This place is his version of a hoard of treasure. He doesn’t have gold, so he sticks to the items he can get his hands, or claws, on. “Why have you never left?”

“
Because I can’t.” His voice is darkened with emotion. “The wizards have access to powerful magic. I’m forced to stay and guard the people who keep me captive.”

“Is there no way to
break free?” I can’t believe that a few humans, even ones as powerful and sadistic as wizards can hold a dragon against his will. “Maybe there’s something I can do to help. Or, I could ask my sister. She’s a sorceress. I’m sure there’s something we could do for you.”

“A sorceress?” His eyebrows raise in question. “Here? Might not be such a smart idea.”

Of course not. I have no idea why I’d suggested it. I’m behaving childish and rash. I’m sure if he’d had any ideas on how he could leave, he’d have already tried them. There’s nothing illusion magic or Gran’s journal can do for him.

“Well, you can’t keep going around without a name.” I snap my fingers. “Dray. I’m going to call you Dray from now on. What do you think?”

“I think it’s time you explain to me what you meant about the headmaster.”

I cringe and rub my
head. “Sorry, Dray. I can’t.”

“You can’t?” I can tell he’s pissed, but in a quiet, subdued way. “Exactly why not?”

“Spell.” I tap my head. “Won’t let me.”

I’d love to tell him everything. After all, it’s obvious he has some magical abilities if he can shape change and float even without wings. He might be able to help me. But thinking about it makes me feel like my skull is being chipped away by a dull axe.

Apparently I must have said something right because his anger fades and is replaced with curiosity. He takes a couple of steps toward me with his hand raised as though he’s going to touch my head, but then he stops. An apologetic look takes over his face.

“Sorry.” He steps back until he’s pressed against the wall.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe he misread my expression, or somehow Rilla’s magic repelled him?

“For what?” I ask.

He looks at me as though he expects me to know exactly what’s going on, and when it becomes clear I don’t, he becomes confused. “You really aren’t frightened? Even after seeing my true form?”

“Of course not.” My laugh might be a little much. I think I’m offending his manliness
, or dragoness, now. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re impressive. But if you were going to eat or injure me, wouldn’t you have done it already?”

He considers this for a moment. “I could be toying with you.”

“Fair enough.” I walk over to him and shove my bare wrist into his face. He seems startled, but he doesn’t move an inch. “Well?” I ask. “If you’re going to do it, would you at least hurry up? I don’t have all day after all.”

He ducks away from my arm without as much as a lick of his lips. It’s almost disappointing. Does he really have no trouble resisting the urge to devour me? Isn’t that how
supernatural relationships are supposed to start?

Heh
. A dragon boyfriend. Too much fun.

“Is the spell so bad?” he asks when he’s halfway across the room.

I’m not sure if he’s still afraid of scaring me or if there really is some part of him that wants to eat me.

“Worse,” I say. “End of the world bad.”

“And you can’t say anything about it?”

I’m afraid if I open my mouth, even to say ‘no,’ everything will come spilling out, including what’s left of my brain. I shake my head and try to think of something I can talk to him about. I don’t want him to think I don’t appreciate him showing his dragon side.

I supposed there is one thing I can show him.

“Do you want to know why I originally was going to come here?” I ask. “Before the spell, I mean.”

His usual relaxed demeanor turns stiff and he seems to be determined to keep his eyes anywhere but on me. “I can guess.”

I think back to what I’ve told him so far
, but I can’t remember having said anything about the journal or Gran’s plea. “You can?”

“It’s not hard,” he says. “You’re a witch after all. There’s only one reason you’d come here.”

“Other witches come here?”

As I say the words, I remember what Al told me when we were being interrogated by a wizard after Lou had her magic taken. The reason why witches sometimes work for wizards is because they hope to earn
a place within the wizards. They want to be able to steal a sorceresses magic too.

I laugh. I can’t help it. The idea of wanting to become one of those parasites is too funny.

“Not if my life depended on it,” I say. “Gran told me enough stories. And if they hadn’t convinced me of how slimy wizards are, after dealing with Borin and Stewart, I’m definitely convinced. Not happening.”

His shoulders loosen and his lopsided grin returns. “That’s good to know.”

“I’m actually here for something of my sister’s,” I say. “I think I mentioned her before. She’s a sorceress. Mostly. Anyway, I would never have come, except for something my Gran left for me.”

I untie the journal from my hip and flip it to the map. It’s still focused on the castle, though of course there’s no dragon wrapped around the tower. He’s inside with me.

I twist the book around to show him while he moves to my side and leans in for a better view. The sensation of being so close to a real life dragon should be bottled and sold as a drug. I think I’m already addicted.

“It’s the University,” he says. “It’s a nice view of it, and an interesting spell allowing it to be
seen in real time. This image made you want to come?”

“Not what the picture’s showing right now, but what it’s not showing.”

When it’s obvious he doesn’t understand what I mean, I snap the book closed and hit him in the chest with it.

“I’m talking about you. When I saw there was a dragon here, I knew I had to
meet it. Whether or not I ever found Lou’s bag didn’t matter. Oh!” I slap myself in the forehead. “I need a picture. Proof you actually exist.”

I dig through my many pouches to locate my phone, and when I don’t find it I go through them again
a little more slowly.

“It has to be here,” I say. “You cannot tell me I forgot it at home.”

“Bag?” he asks, not seeming to notice my current dilemma. “What kind of bag?”

I wave my hand in his direction to let him know that’s not what matters right now. “Little blue one. Damn it. Where is it?”

“Made of silk, maybe?” he asks. “And it’s your sister’s, so I’m guessing it’s probably saturated with magic.”

Since I’m still searching for my phone and only half listening to what he’s saying, it takes an embarrassingly long time to
realize what he’s saying.

“How do you know that?” I
ask.

He walks away and after a couple of seconds of digging in his pile of stuff, he produces a small, silk blue bag.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

I gawk at the bag, not believing what I see. “Where did you find that?”

“Does it matter?” he asks. “What’s important is that I have it and I’ll give it to you.”

I reach for the bag, but he pulls it away. “But you just said...”

“For a price,” he
finishes. “I’m not about to give away one of my treasures for nothing.”

I should have known it was too good to be true. He’s been so reasonable up until now, but of course any dragon
living with wizards would have a dark and greedy side.

“Come on, Dray. Be reasonable.” With open palms, I show I have nothing on me other than the clothes I’m wearing. “I don’t have any money. I don’t even have my phone on me. What am I supposed to give you?”

An unnerving smile is his response as he comes closer, his eyes on my chest. For a second, I forget he’s not a normal guy and I start to become flustered, and angry. Who the hell does he think he is? No way I’m selling my body for a bag of magic.

Though, he isn’t bad looking. It might be
kind of fun.

What am I thinking? I met the guy a couple of hours ago. Even for me that’s too soon. Besides, the more he gazes at me, the less I think he’s staring at my chest and instead he’s staring at what’s on it.

My hand goes to Gran’s bandoleer as I feel my lungs deflate.

“No.” My voice is barely audible, though I can tell he hears me. “Anything but this.”

“You said it yourself,” he says. “You don’t have anything else.”

I want to tell him how important it is. How I need to keep it because it’s one of my last links to my grandmother. And even if it wasn’t, I love the thing more than any article of clothing I’ve ever worn. It fits perfectly and is so convenient. It
makes me feel like a true witch.

The problem is he’s right. The only other things
I have are the map, which the spell would never allow me to give to him, Gran’s journal, which I’d die before giving up, and my dress, which would leave me naked.

If only I could say screw the bag. I don’t even want it. Who cares if
I help make Lou more powerful? But if I can’t figure out a way to break Rilla’s spell, Lou’s going to need her power more than ever to protect the portal.

“Damn it.”

I close my eyes as I unbuckle the bandoleer as if not being able to see it will make everything easier. Since the scroll and book are both strapped to the belt attached, I have to figure out a way to wear them on my shoulder like a purse instead. Not nearly as comfortable or as awesome looking.

As I’m about to hand it to him, I jerk it away to prolong the exchange. The leather is so soft. I’ve never felt anything so nice.

“Why do you want this?” I ask while fighting a couple of stubborn tears. “You’re not going to leave it lying around here to rot, are you?”

“Of course not.” The energy in his voice at least makes me think he might be appreciating
his part of the deal. “I’m going to wear it everywhere. Do you know how long I’ve been searching for a way to keep some of my treasure with me at all times?”

At least it will be put to use. And by a dragon, which is cool.
All right. I guess I need to accept the inevitable. I hand the bandoleer over and he drops Lou’s bag into my hand.

Of course now I don’t have any pockets to keep it in. I bend over and stuff the bag into my boot. Not the most comfortable solution, but the best I can come up with.

By the time I straighten, he already has the bandoleer on and is stretching to see how well it fits. Despite the fact it looks way better on me, I can’t deny it fits him perfectly. And he seems so happy. After the sadness I’d sensed from him through the journal, it’s nice to see him like this.

“
I want that back someday,” I say. “So don’t get too attached.”

H
is surprise shifts to a cunning smile.

“You’ll have to bring me something amazing,” he says. “I won’t easily trade away something as nice as this.”

“Deal.” 

I stick out my hand and wait for him to shake it. I’m not sure if it means the same thing for a dragon, but after eyeing my hand suspiciously, he seems to figure out what I’m doing.
His grip is firm and gentle and he’s not afraid to meet my eye like so many boys I’ve dealt with in the past.

As I’m about to let go, his grip becomes too tight to break free and his head swivels around as though someone called his name.

“What is it?” I ask.

He sighs, his shoulders drooping. “It seems I’m needed elsewhere.” When he lets go of my hand, it’s only so he can point an accusing finger at me. “Stay here. I still want to discuss what you said about the headmaster. I shouldn’t be too long.”

Without giving me a chance to respond, he vanishes.

At first I don’t notice much of a difference, probably because I’m thinking about how impressive his magic is. And then the spell hits me harder than ever.
Somehow Dray’s presence must have been subduing the effects of the spell. I stumble, shocked by the strength of it. I need to find Victor. If I don’t go now, I will die. And now might not even be soon enough.

Part of me knows I should resist by looking for a way to break the spell. However, the thought is so small and feels so far away, there’s no way I can listen to it.

I pull the block of wood open and drop down to the stairs. It’s easier to go down the staircase than up, though not much faster since I have to be careful not to slip and break my neck.

I’m not sure how I know where to go once I’m down the stairs, but I do.
Each hall I turn down is a blur, and I soon have no memory of where I’ve been or how to go back to Dray’s tower. All I can think about is the need to go to Victor. And then I’m stepping through an intricately carved door into a large room full of neatly stacked bookshelves and a large desk at the far side of the room. The only seat is on the opposite side of the desk and it is occupied by a thin, balding man in his fifties. He doesn’t glance up from the paper he’s working on when I enter.

There’s no indication of who this man is as far as I can see,
but I have no doubt in my mind. This is the wizard Victor, headmaster of the University and leader of The Sword.