Page 7 of Hex and the Dragon
"Probably," Dorian agreed, standing from his chair with fluid grace. "But that doesn't change the fact that people need help." He looked down at her, his amber eyes intense. "Are you coming?"
The question carried more weight than just the immediate crisis, and Ivy found herself studying his face as she considered her answer. Working together would strengthen their bond, give the Chronicle more opportunities to influence them both. But it would also give them the chance to understand each other better, to build the kind of trust that might allow them to resist the fragment's seductive promises.
"Yes," she said, closing the Chronicle carefully and securing it in her desk drawer. "But we take breaks every hour. And if either of us starts showing signs of excessive influence..."
"We pull back," Dorian agreed. "No matter what's at stake."
Cade led them through the fog-shrouded streets of Mistwhisper Falls, past houses where protective charms flickered weakly on porches and residents peered nervously from behind curtained windows. The residential district was centered around a small park where ancient oak trees provided natural anchor points for the town's defensive magic.
Lyra Whitaker knelt at the base of the largest oak, her hands glowing with the wild purple light of chaos magic as she worked to reinforce fading ward-stones. Her dark curls were pulled back in a practical ponytail, and her usual vibrant energy seemed focused to laser intensity.
"Thank the gods," she said when she saw them approaching. "The ward network is unraveling faster than I can repair it. Someone or something is actively working against the protections."
"The Chronicle," Ivy explained, kneeling beside Lyra to examine the failing ward-stone. "It's an ancient consciousness that wants to remake reality. The town's defenses are interfering with its plans."
"Naturally," Lyra said with dark humor. "Because we needed another supernatural crisis so soon after the last one." She looked up at Dorian. "I need you to channel dragon fire into the ward network. Not destructive flame, but the creative force that dragons use to build their hoards."
"Creative fire," Dorian repeated thoughtfully. "I can do that, but I'll need guidance. Dragon fire responds to intent, and if my focus wavers..."
"You could melt the ward-stones instead of empowering them," Ivy finished. "What if I help direct your intent? My bibliomancy allows me to shape reality through focused will and precise language."
Lyra's eyes lit up with understanding. "A three-way working. Chaos magic to break down the existing damage, dragon fire to provide raw power, and bibliomancy to give that power precise form." She grinned despite the circumstances. "It's crazy enough that it might actually work."
They positioned themselves around the largest ward-stone, forming a triangle that felt both practical and symbolically significant. Ivy opened her research notebook to a blank page,her pen poised to write the incantations that would guide their working.
"Ready?" she asked, looking first at Lyra and then at Dorian.
"Ready," Lyra confirmed, her chaos magic already beginning to spiral around the damaged ward.
"Ready," Dorian said, though Ivy could see the careful control he maintained as golden fire began to flicker around his hands.
The working began with Lyra's chaos magic breaking down the corrupted elements of the ward network, her power wild and unpredictable but guided by years of experience. Ivy felt the familiar tingle of bibliomancy awakening, her pen moving across the page as she wrote words of binding and protection in languages that seemed to flow from some deeper knowledge.
Then Dorian's dragon fire joined the working, and everything changed.
The golden flames that surrounded his hands weren't destructive but creative, carrying the primal force that had shaped mountains and carved rivers. Ivy felt that power flow through her words, giving them substance and weight that transformed theory into reality.
But more than that, she felt Dorian's mind brush against hers through their shared magical working. She caught glimpses of his careful control, the constant vigilance required to keep his dragon nature from overwhelming his human reason. She saw his fear of causing harm, his desperate desire to protect rather than destroy.
And in return, she felt him experiencing her hunger for knowledge, her frustration with feeling powerless during supernatural crises, her growing fascination with the way his mind worked through complex magical theory with instinctive understanding.
"Your writing," he said softly, his voice carrying wonder even as he maintained his focus on the working. "It's beautiful. Like poetry, but functional."
"Ancient draconic influences modern magical linguistics more than most people realize," Ivy replied, her pen continuing to move across the page. "Your people were the first to understand that language shapes reality as much as will does."
"The old poems," Dorian said with growing excitement. "The ones carved into the hoard-caves. They weren't just stories, were they? They were workings."
"Exactly," Ivy confirmed, feeling a thrill of intellectual connection with Chronicle's influence. "Dragons were the first bibliomancers. You just expressed your magic through carved stone instead of written words."
Their conversation continued as they worked, moving from magical theory to cultural history to personal experiences with supernatural forces. Ivy found herself fascinated by Dorian's perspective on magic as a living force that responded to emotion as much as technique, while he seemed genuinely impressed by her ability to find patterns and connections across different magical traditions.
The ward-stone beneath their hands began to glow with renewed strength, its protective magic spreading through the network to reinforce the entire residential district. But more important than their magical success was the growing understanding between them.
"There," Lyra said with satisfaction as the last ward stabilized. "That should hold for at least a few days." She looked between Ivy and Dorian with a knowing smile. "Nice work, you two. Very... compatible magical styles."
Ivy felt heat rise in her cheeks as she realized how closely she and Dorian had been working together, their shouldersalmost touching as they focused on the ward-stone, their voices dropping to intimate murmurs as they discussed magical theory.
"It's the Chronicle," she said quickly. "It's designed to make us work well together."
