Page 75 of Redeeming the Dragon

“An offer?” the witch-woman laughed scornfully. “The sole offer I’ll accept from you is relinquishing the Warkin prince.”

“Mother, hear her out,” Atora pleaded. “Perhaps…”

“Perhaps nothing!” her mother snapped. “You brought this on our heads by not doing your part. Useless fool.”

“Scraggen!” I yelled, still hidden behind the pillar, hoping she would not direct Kidron after me. “You’ll wish to hear what I have to say.”

“Just listen, Mother,” Atora said in a very small voice. “What can it hurt? If you dislike the words, kill her.”

“Fine.” Louder, to me, the Scraggen barked, “Very well, Peddler. Let us hear your bargain. Hasten your words. If what I hear displeases me, I’ll unleash the beast.”

Daring myself to be brave, I crept out from behind the pillar and climbed to my feet, facing my enemy.

“Here it is. Shortly,” I replied. “Clothing has brought us to this impasse. Clothing can bring us out of it.”

“That makes no sense,” the Scraggen replied, folding her arms. Her stare was as black as death. I saw hatred on her countenance. Raw and real hatred. I had to hurry before I lost her.

“In my bag,” I responded, holding it up from my hip, “is a gown, crafted of magic. The magic of Kidron’s shirt has made him mine. If you can take the gown and utilize its magic to reclaim him, I’ll renounce my rights to him.”

“How is a gown crafted of magic?” snapped the witch-woman.

“How does a shirt retain the power to break a curse?” I retorted. “This is my challenge to you. Either accept it, or I’ll not surrender the Warkin prince.”

“Mother, I think we should do what she says,” begged Atora, plucking at her mother’s sleeve. “I think…”

“No one cares what you think, Atora,” snapped her mother, wrenching her arm away. “You are a means to an end. Nothing more.”

To me, the witch-woman said, “Fine. Bring out the gown. I am the Scraggen of Moonswept. What magic could you possibly possess that I cannot trounce?”

Anxiety gripped my heart. What if she was correct? What if my magic was easily unraveled by hers? What if—

Have faith. You’ve come this far.

I felt as though I were stumbling blindly through a nighttime forest, trying to find my way while avoiding rocks and trees and stumps and clefts and hollows. Magic and curses and witchcraft and natural abilities were all new territory for me. Was I making the right decision? I cast a desperate look at Kidron. He could not help me. He was still trapped in his dragon form and clearly beneath the Scraggen’s control. His massive body twitched, his scales glittering with each motion. His great head dipped in agitation, and smoke drifted from his elongated nostrils.

He wishes to eat me,I realized,fear creeping back in. He doesn’t recognize me. Kidron isn’t there at all.

Swinging my focus back to the Scraggen, I said,

“It is simple. All you need do is complete the gown and put it on. Wear it. If you can do that, I’ll forfeit the Dragonkind prince.”

“What sort of foolish wager is that?” sputtered the Scraggen, even as I reached into the pack at my hip and drew out the carefully folded gown.

I shook it out and heard Atora’s soft cry of delight.

“Mother! How lovely. What a regal wedding gown it would make.”

“Aye, a regal wedding gown or a regal gown, worthy of the queen of Moonswept,” I agreed, daring to step closer. I shook it out for all to see, hearing quiet exclamations over its beauty from the female onlookers.

They were impressed. When I dared look at the Scraggen, her piercing emerald gaze was latched onto it too. The lines of her face were set and hard, but I saw something flicker in the depths of her eyes. Greed. Covetousness.

I had planted a seed. She wanted the gown.

I hoped desperately that its magic would hold.

Chapter 44

“Lovely, is it not?” I asked, half-taunting the Scraggen, trying to coax her into taking my bait, even as a fisherman coaxes the fish to accept the worm on the hook. “I daresay, m’lady, that it befits the great Scaggen of Moonswept, even if crafted by my humble hands.”

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