Page 50 of Redeeming the Dragon

If I’d listened to Kidron, I might have broken the spell. I might be finishing this dress and wearing it as my wedding gown while marrying him. Instead, I suppose I’ll leave it here. What is the point of taking it?

However, when I lifted my hand to walk away, a pang struck deep in my soul, reverberating through my heart, my body. It was a pang of loss, coupled with an absolute certainty that I was making the wrong decision. I would not say the gown spoke to me, but something warned me I would be making an even worse mistake by leaving this sewing project behind than I’d made in disobeying the dragon and listening to my mother.

Stunned, I placed my fingertips back on the gleaming satin and felt a sense of rightness. My fingers began to itch. The strangest feeling coursed up through my fingers and into my arm, across my chest, and all the way to my heart.

“I can’t leave this,” I murmured aloud.

The words had scarcely left my lips when a soft green glow seeped out from beneath the pads of my fingers, swept across the surface of the gown, slid over the sewing instruments beside it, and then…vanished, winking away into nothingness. Gasping, I jerked my hand away.

“What was that?” I said. I glanced wildly over both shoulders as if someone might be standing there watching me perform the trick.

“What was that?” I repeated. Only the silence of the cave, combined with the soft rushing echoes of the sea in the mirror, answered my question.

I bit my lip, debating what to do. I stretched out my hand over the fabric, daring myself to touch it again. My fingers trembled slightly. What was wrong with me? I’d never hesitated to touch my own work. Then again, never had I seen or experienced a green glow passing from my fingertips through the sewing.

“Lorna, perhaps this experience has driven you insane,” I muttered aloud.

That might be true, or…

Kidron claimed I had magic. He’d said the terms of the Scraggen’s curse required him to find a woman with magic, and that something had called to him the night he rescued Father at sea. He couldn’t be utterly mistaken, could he? After all, he was able to rescue my father and find our home with ease.

But magic? Me?

To my knowledge, no one in my family had magic, except for the possibility of Mama’s bones warning her of storms. I failed to understand how I could have it. And yet…

Testing the waters, I lowered my palm to the fabric of the gown. Rested it there. Waited.

Nothing. No itching of my fingertips. No green light. No glow. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing except the growing resolution in my soul that if I left the dress, I would be doing myself—and Kidron—a great disservice.

“Well,” I said aloud. “I suppose that answers one question. Whether I have magic or not, I cannot say, but I will take you with me,” I told the gown.

With that, I hastily bundled up the entire project—dress, needles, thread, scissors, etc. I wrapped them in a sturdy canvas cloth and pushed them down into my bag, which, by now, was burgeoning with supplies for my journey. I slung it over my shoulder and secured it at my waist.

Ready to depart, I walked to the mirror and stood before it.

Use the mirror, Kidron had advised.

How do I use a mirror?

No denying it was a magical artifact. How did it work? Gingerly, I reached out to touch its shiny surface. Rather than solid, unfeeling glass, it shimmered beneath my fingertips, rippling like waves on the seashore. Yet the image of my home island never altered, and the sounds remained unchanged. I jerked my hand away from the odd sensation of cool glassmovingbeneath my flesh.

“How do I make you take me where I wish to go?” I muttered aloud.

Make?

For some reason, the word stuck in my mind. Should I be attempting tomakea magical artifact do anything? Or would I get further by simply requesting? Certainly, more flies were caught with honey than vinegar. This was a universal truth.

Steeling myself, I reached out again, this time placing all five fingertips of my right hand on the smooth surface.

“Magic mirror,” I said softly, “I do not know how you work, but, if you can hear me, please help me. The man I—the man I love, has been taken from me. Please help me find him. I know he has gone somewhere east of the sun and west of the moon. I don’t know where that is. If there is any truth to his claims of magic inside me and a bond between us, please…please help me. Please send me there. I want to rescue him, to free both him and his dragon from the Scraggen’s curse.

“Please help me, mirror,” I finished.

To my shock, my fingers began to itch and then I beheld the same green glow. It seeped out from beneath my fingertips, like water leaking from the bottom of a cracked vase. Quickly, it spread across the face of the mirror, which rippled. This time, it changed when it rippled. Briefly, the noises of the sea and gulls and the waves were louder in my ears. Then they suddenly altered to a greatwhooshingsound, coupled with my own scream. For my hand, which had been resting on the glass, was suckedintoit.

My hand, then my arm, my shoulder, my head, and my entire body. All were whisked into the glass. I felt as if I’d been picked up by a giant hand and tossed down a long tunnel. Blinding lights flashed in the midst of intense darkness. Wind roared in my ears. It plucked at my clothes, my bag, until I feared them being ripped away. My horrified scream pierced my ears, and then I was dropped onto a pillow of white that was both wet and cold.

I shrieked, floundering, my arms and limbs flailing.

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