Chapter 1

“Peter, the dragon you killed was a male. I will arrive at noon the day after you read this. In an attempt to stave off disaster, together, we travel to return the two living eggs to their mother. Mohennial Sala.”

Lord Bentencourt’s Manor

Cursed Island, Mirror Lake, Kreven

3rd day before spring equinox

It was the following morning after Lord Bentencourt’s return from his most recent trip to Earth. After a quick, utilitarian breakfast during which he’d barely noticed his food, Peter now sat in his study, attempting to use office work to distract himself from the worrying message he’d received from Mohennial Sala the night before.

The office work consisted of reviewing the ledgers and journal entries maintained by his executive officer, Miranda Carlson. The twenty-eight-year-old woman was also in his study, busy at her own nearby work table tallying the list of items he’d requested be made ready for today’s pending excursion with Sala. Peter looked up from the ledger to find Miranda staring at him, a look of concern etched across her face. His executive officer also looked exhausted, likely not having slept a wink last night due to the same worries he felt. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Milord,” Miranda asked carefully, “What if you were to use the portal and flee to Earth instead of going to confront dragons with Mohennial Sala?”

“Mohennial Sala is able to travel to Earth, Miranda,” he replied, “and far more easily than I. She’d be able to track me down there eventually. And even if I somehow managed to evade her, I fear what she would do to all of you remaining on Kreven. You know I’m not strong enough to portal-transport all of you to Earth with me in the time we have before her arrival. Besides, Tevi and Klup have too much Kreven magic invested in their bodies to survive even a few minutes on Earth.”

“I realize that, Milord,” she argued carefully, “but if you escaped to Earth, those of us left behind could flee the island and go to live elsewhere. Surely Mistress Sala cannot be aware of all your holdings! We could use the boats and head east across Mirror Lake and into the Ryzeelund. You could cast shielding spells on us before you left. The island manor house could always be rebuilt later. Also, there is a chance that when the Mohennial confronts the dragons without you, she might not survive.”

“I doubt that would happen,” Peter replied, “but even if she were killed, Sala most assuredly has plans in place to be quickly resurrected. And once she is restored, I have no doubt she would seek vengeance upon those who abandoned her in her time of need, and do so with a fervor—starting with me, of course.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “No, I fear that I will have to see this dragon business through, come fortune or folly.”

Peter and Miranda’s somber discussion was interrupted by two women entering the study. The older of the pair, Peter’s housekeeper, Bella, led the way and was smiling proudly while gesturing towards her companion. The second woman, his young new apprentice, Bemilda Garland, was carrying a heavy, hooded leather cloak. Peter could not help but smile as he took in the older teenager’s comely figure and shining blonde hair.

“Milord,” Bella explained, “we have altered your war cloak as you have instructed.”

Bemilda, or Bemi, for short, stepped forward and presented the cloak to Peter. He took the heavy garment and laid it open on the large meeting table opposite his desk. First, he inspected the new warded patches he’d instructed be added to the exterior. These areas of padded, heavy leather should better protect his vitals from the front, sides, and back of the cloak. He then opened the cloak to inspect the two new pockets he’d requested be added to the inside lining.

One of the new pockets was positioned over his right breast and was sized to hold the fire crystal amulet the Mohennial had recently given him. The other new pocket, which was over his left breast, was much smaller, being just the size of a grape. Both pockets had been securely attached by heavy, reinforced stitching and each had flap covers which could be sealed shut by three closely-spaced buttons.

“These look good!” he commented. “Did you have any trouble sewing the reinforced leather?”

“The lass did the work, Milord,” Bella explained. “Her young fingers are much stronger and nimbler than my own.”

This was likely due to Bemi’s skill with the fiddle. The older teen had spent much of the last eight years working hard in her mother’s inn. She also regularly provided the evening’s entertainment in the great room, singing, dancing, and playing the fiddle. The effort showed in her toned arms visible below the short sleeves of her work dress.

Peter pulled on the heavy cloak and started cinching shut its many belts and buckles. Miranda rose to assist him, pulling the lowest two straps tight. Once it was fitted, Peter almost felt armored in the heavy leather covering. He pulled up the hood and also cinched tight the neck cord. With it closed, only a small portion of his face remained visible.

“The leather’s stiff from disuse, but not too bad,” he commented, moving around and bending. When he squatted, the long cloak reached the ground, concealing his legs and most of his feet. Peter had sized it this way on purpose as his best concealment spells would be cast on the cloak and not himself. He stood again and motioned for his executive officer to begin unbuckling the cinches.

“Good ... well done, ladies. Thank you!” he announced. “Please fetch my blackened boots, leather leggings, and gloves.”

Peter waited until the two had departed the study before going to his hidden lockbox. He released the guard wards while bypassing the trapped latch. Inside the small compartment was an assortment of his most powerful potions and items. He began removing certain potion vials and handing them to Miranda, who began sliding them into the appropriate pockets inside the cloak.

Finally, he removed the warded sack which contained the tiny frost crystal he’d recently retrieved from the dead cryo-dragon hatchling. He remembered to incant the spell which would protect him from the effects of touching the crystal and extracted the small gem.

Holding the blue sphere up to the light for a moment, he felt his hand warming while the gem became magically colder, maintaining its near cryogenic temperature. He also felt the excess magic emanating from the tiny crystal and how the spell he’d cast on himself allowed his body to siphon that excess while simultaneously protecting his fingers from the intense cold.

With his free hand, he fingered the new smaller pocket and cast a similar spell onto the leather material itself. He then tucked the small orb into the pocket and fastened the closure flap. Once the gem was in place, he carefully probed the leather around it, ensuring that the spell was protecting the garment from localized freezing. It seemed to be working, as if anything, the leather now felt slightly warmer than room temperature. Good!

Next, he withdrew his fire-crystal amulet from where it hung around his neck. He then carefully wrapped the chain around the perimeter of the amulet before tucking the medallion into the cloak’s new right breast pocket. Conversely, the leather over this pocket felt cooler as the fire crystal drew in nearby heat, storing some and converting the rest to magic.

Peter finally cast a new ward spell that merged the effects of both crystals, feeling the balance forming between the two. The cloak, and hopefully its wearer, were now protected from extremes of both heat and cold. The cloak tingled in his fingers as the magic potential being released by both crystals soaked into the leather.