Page 131 of The Mirror of Beasts

Caitriona came over, allowing him to plop a chunk of it into her upturned palms. She brought it closer for inspection, sniffing at it in a way that made me reflexively gag.

“Dragonheart’s a powerful substance,” Nash told her. “It can be used in a number of ointments and potions to amplify their effects. I think Lady Olwen would love to have some of this.”

Caitriona’s face fell at the mention of her sister, but she nodded. Neve took it from her, retrieving a plastic bag out of her bottomless fanny pack and wrapping it up. Undoing the buckle, she tossed the whole bag onto a nearby table, and I set mine down beside hers.

“What else should I collect for her?” Caitriona asked eagerly. “Some scales? More teeth?”

“Save one of the fangs for me, will you?” Emrys muttered from next to me. “I’d love a souvenir to remind myself of the terrifying experience I barely survived.”

“Me too!” Neve said.

I grimaced, circling around the creature. The knot in my stomach tightened, and the creeping sensation of decay had returned, spreading through me like poison. Almost as if …

I can feel death hovering over it, my mind finished.

My hand rose of its own accord, fingers brushing the gleaming crimson scales.

“—sorry, great and ancient flying lizard,” Neve was saying as she appeared suddenly beside me. She held up the tooth she’d selected for herself, and I shuddered at the sight of it. The thing was longer than my index finger, curving slightly.

Neve slid it into her jacket pocket, then patted the beast’s neck. “If you hadn’t tried to roast and eat us, we probably could have been friends.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but even I had to admit that it wasn’t unheard of. Dragons were cunning, fiercely intelligent creatures, and certain breeds were said to be docile enough to form friendships with mortals—though they were too stubborn to ever be trained. That thought led to another melancholy one, a drifting memory of the dragon bones curled protectively around the snowy cottage in Avalon.

“Hey, old man,” Neve called to Nash. “Didn’t you say Excalibur has creatures carved into its hilt?”

“I surely did,” Nash said, leaning around the dragon’s barbed tail. “Why?”

Neve moved past me, kneeling beside the dragon’s neck where Caitriona’s cut began. I saw it then too—the silver metal protruding through the oozing wound, a blood-slick steel pommel.

The sword that had been lodged in the dragon’s throat for an untold number of years.

“Found it!” Neve shouted back. “And, surprise! It’s not reacting to me at all because, like I told you—” She gripped the hilt and pulled the sword free with a single tug.

A phosphorous blue-white light blazed around her, tugging at her hair, her clothes, her skin. I reached for her with a gasp, but in the next moment I was flying back, riding the pressure, the power, as it exploded around her like a dying star.

The light threw back the heavy curtain of shadow hanging over the hall, chasing the darkness to the very edges of the room. It undulated with a terrifying ferocity, its many arms tracing scorched patterns over the stone floors like lightning.

“Neve!”

As I struggled to pick myself up off the floor and shake off the disorienting punch of magic, Caitriona rushed past. She stopped just beyond the reach of the roiling magic, the fear etched on her face illuminated by its pure, unearthly power.

Neve’s outline was just barely visible at the center of the growing orb; her back was arched painfully, her head thrown back as if caught in a soul-rending scream.

“Release it!” Nash shouted. The light hummed low and thunderous, as if displeased. “You must release the sword!”

A set of strong hands gripped me under the elbows, easing me up as my legs wobbled.

“What is that?” Emrys breathed out, drawing me closer to his side.

“Neve!” I called, struggling to hear myself over the thrumming vibrations. “You have to let go!”

As Neve and the light rose, the ground cratered beneath them, sending cracks racing over the stone floor and up the walls. There was a faint movement from within the depths of the magic—Neve turning her head ever so slightly to the right, where Caitriona stood, a decision flashing in her eyes.

“Don’t—!” I warned, but Caitriona had already thrust her arm forward through the barrier of magic.

Rather than repel her the way it had with me, the light shifted and swallowed her whole.

Emrys cast an uncertain look my way, as if I’d know what to do now.

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