Page 52 of Redeeming the Dragon

“For another, the dragon prince recognized your bond. It drew you to him, he says. A bond across species, while uncommon, is not unheard of, especially with the Dragonkind. Warkin are a rarity in how they share partner bonds. It is similar to the bonding magic with their dragons, I think, and that is why they are capable of experiencing it.”

“But I am not Warkin,” I pointed out, not meaning to argue, yet truly confused. “How can I experience such a bond when I am not Warkin?”

Braisley paused her pacing to offer me a somewhat reproachful glance, as though I should have remained silent.

“The bond on the other side matters not,” she said calmly. “The bond is produced and maintained on their side. As I told you, it is similar to their bond with their dragon. In your case, it is probably helped along by you possessing magic.”

The notion was so strange I found it difficult to accept. However, the fairy queen would have no reason to mislead me.

“Do you know,” I dared to ask, stepping closer to the powerful fairy, “why the dragon’s mirror brought me to you when I asked for help finding Moonswept? Was the magic mistaken?”

At this, Braisley’s expression changed to haughty. Affronted.

“Magic is never mistaken. Misused, but never mistaken. I cannot help you?” she laughed. “I am queen of Cleyton and ruler of the fairies. If anyone in this realm can help you, it is I, if only to point you towards someone else who may know more than I do.”

“Forgive me,” I mumbled, bowing my head in humility.

I was unsure if I liked this fairy. Still, if I was to continue my quest, I needed help. If I was even to get down off her mountain alive, I probably needed help. I shuddered to think of clambering down those frozen peaks with my meager supplies and lack of experience with cold, snow, and wintery conditions.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

To my shock, the fairy’s tone had gentled, daring me to peek up into her face.

“Perhaps I was too harsh,” she said, her features softening. “I forget I am not speaking with another fairy, a creature of magic, or even a human ruler.

“Although,” she tacked on, “you must have some magic, from what you’ve described, else the mirror would not have brought you to Cleyton. Magical artifacts don’t function properly unless the one with whom they were working also possesses a spark of power.”

“Kidron said I must have magic,” I agreed. Then, added hopefully, “You will help me?”

The fairy queen sighed. “Child, did I ever indicate I would not?”

I shook my head. No, in fairness, she hadn’t.

“I cannot tell you where this Moonswept is,” she said. “Nor can I answer all of your questions. However, I can send you to someone who can provide the information I lack.

“Give me your hand.”

I obeyed. Braisley lifted my palm to her lips, blowing softly onto my skin. Her breath was a puff of cold air, filled with visible frost. The powdery, smoke-white air turned my palm hoary and sent tendrils of cold racing up my arm. I gasped, but the fairy did not release me. Instead, she flipped my hand over, studying the veins on the back of my hand, which stood out in sharp, green relief to the bleached hue of my skin.

“I see…” she mumbled.

She flipped the palm back over to study it further. The creases and lines of my palm had turned the same green color as the veins on the back of my hand. I recognized the color—it was the same mystical green that had seeped out from beneath my fingertips back in the dragon’s cave. All of this was utterly foreign, like watching the street performers during the festivals back home on the island, and yet this was me.Myskin changing colors.Myveins altering to a deep green.

How is she doing this?I wondered.Whatis she doing?

I didn’t have to voice my questions, for Braisley blew once more on my palm, and this time the fog and frost vanished. My skin re-warmed to its original peachy hue.

The fairy glanced up at me, her deep gaze encompassing all the mysteries of the world.

“As I thought,” she said. “You have a unique gift, Lorna of the Jeweled Isles. Where it came from, I cannot say. Somewhere in your lineage, perhaps hundreds of years in the past, you had an ancestor with magical abilities that have been bequeathed to you. Your gift isone of persuasion, but it is not necessarily in the words you speak. It is in the actions you undertake.”

My features scrunched into a frown of confusion.

“I have never heard of this,” I said.

“It is a lesser magic,” Braisley replied. “Many who hold it go their entire lives without knowing, yet it plays out as they can convince those around them to do as they wish.”

I nearly laughed aloud, thinking of the sisterly quarrels with my siblings, or of my mother’s stubborn refusal to leave me alone when I’d visited the island. Then I thought,If I hold this magic, perhaps Mama does too and hers is stronger than mine. She is certainly able to convince Father to do whatever she wishes, and she convinced me to give in to her. That would explain some things.

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