Magic Renewed

Morgana stepped into the castle and sighed as the noise behind her dimmed. Magic pulsed through the walls, a comforting embrace. She leaned against the door and forced the tears away. Mourning would have to wait. Every breath stabbed, sharp and cold against her breastbone. Warm heat pressed against her shoulder blades as Castle Corvana lent her strength. The power of it rippled the air around Morgana with icy heat. The castle welcomed her with open arms, and Morgana relaxed into its comforting embrace.

It was done. The witches had been disbanded. Safety had become their priority, forcing them to abandon their castle and their town. Her heart broke again as thoughts of her sister flashed though her mind. The castle understood her pain, and a wisp of wind kissed her cheek. She wasn’t the only one who missed Constance.

Morgana pushed off from the door and stepped around the clutter left behind from a hundred witches running for their lives. Her purple velvet skirt brushed against golden goblets, sending one jewel-encrusted chalice rolling with a muted clink.

Hundreds of empty rooms echoed their silence. Castle Corvana’s magic gave a reedy moan and tugged one of Morgana’s silver curls. With no one left to protect, Corvana’s spirit became restless.

This was the one place Morgana had always felt safe…the one place she could be who she was meant to be. She would have to start over. What would happen to the castle then? She couldn’t stay here. The people of Trolleyvale were burning witches every day. Some real. Some only suspected. Even if Morgana hadn’t been a real witch, her looks alone would have gotten her killed. With violet eyes and silver hair, she risked the pyres by her presence alone.

Tears streamed down Morgana’s face as the sound of Constance’s screams echoed through her mind. Sliding to the floor at the top of the stone staircase, Morgana slammed her hands over her ears. The scream that ripped from her throat would have made a wailing banshee proud. Magic wrapped around her, ensuring the sound remained trapped inside the castle walls. A warm breeze kissed her tear-stained cheeks with a promise of retribution.

Finally, Morgana stopped screaming, and a sob pulled her back to her feet. Magic from the castle lifted her a few inches off the floor and eased her down the long corridors. Corvana knew where she wished to go, and the door opened before she could lift her hand.

Constance had been the compulsive one—always leaping before she had a clear picture of what she was jumping into. Morgana prided herself on being the over-thinker. Though birth order made her the younger of the two, she’d always felt responsible for her older sister. Morgana had failed. She had failed at the most critical point in their lives, and Constance had paid for the mistake. Her smoldering bones bore the black-hearted testament.

Stepping into her sister’s room, Morgana swiped away the tears. Constance’s dresses lay scattered all over the floor while her closet sat packed full of bottles of perfume. The top of the vanity held a mixed collection of jewelry while the jewelry box had been crammed full of dried herbs. The chaos made no sense to Morgana, but it was exactly as her sister needed it to be.

Morgana sat down on the bed and hugged her sister’s pearl-white, satin pillow to her chest.

A noise from the hallway barely had time to register before the warlock burst through the door. “We have to go, Morgana. They’re coming. They’ll be here any minute. They won’t leave until they have you tied to a stake.” Taking a single glance, he bounded to her side, sat down on the bed, and pulled her onto his lap. Wrapping his long arms around her, Drake crushed her to his chest. “I’m sorry.” Pressing her head to his chest, his voice rumbled in her ear. “I’m so sorry. We both tried. We did everything we could. You have to believe that. There was nothing else we could have done.”

Morgana curled into his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “Get me out of here, Drake.” She didn’t worry about whether he could do as she asked. A descendent of the gargoyles, Drake had more power than a dozen witches. Head and shoulders above everyone, his strength, size, and power had made him legendary until a spell gone wrong turned entire villages against the witches and warlocks they’d loved.

Leaping from the bed, Drake carried her into the hallway. Here he stopped at the sound of wood splintering from downstairs. “They’re already here. Go to the roof.” Morgana repeated what the winds of the castle whispered to her, and he took off without hesitation. The castle would not put Morgana in danger. Its job was to protect, from the day the first stone touched this sacred ground.

Shouts sounded from below as village men rammed their way through the front door. Drake ran faster as the castle did what it could to slow the men down. Its magic could only do so much, and they would eventually overpower it. The magic of the castle and the witches inside had been nearly exhausted over the last few months as they fought for their lives against the humans. They couldn’t keep fighting without risking burning out their magic or killing themselves from overuse.

Doors opened before Drake as he made his way higher and higher through the castle corridors. He didn’t know how they would get off the roof, but he trusted in the magic around them. He trusted in Morgana, and the castle protected Morgana at all costs. Cool air rushed down the corridor as the last door opened before him, and Drake ran out into the night.

“Stop, Drake.” Drake paused at the sound of her voice and looked down at Morgana. Love filled his heart until he thought it would burst. She was his life, and he would do anything to protect and keep her safe. As though in response to his thoughts, a pulse of magic erupted from beneath his feet, and Morgana looked over his shoulder.

Slowly, Drake turned to see a small, red dragon, no bigger than his hand, fly past him and land on the edge of the wall.

A feminine voice, too old and heavy for the tiny body, grated like stone against stone. “Would you truly do anything to keep her safe?” Drake nodded, and the dragon’s head tilted to the side as she spoke again. “I would like to give you a gift, Drake, son of Talon. Morgana has been the only one to believe in the magic of Castle Corvana, and although you have never sensed me, you have always believed in me through her. My job here is done. I can no longer protect this place. But through your willingness, I can help you continue to protect her.” She nodded at Morgana, and Drake’s arms tightened until his muscles corded into tight bands. “I would like to give you my magic, Drake. It isn’t much, but it will allow you to escape here and protect Morgana forever.”

The red dragon seemed to smile when Drake spoke. “I accept, and I thank you for your gift.” His reply clashed with a sudden shout from within the castle. The dragon disappeared, and magic pulsed through the stone below his feet. It poured into him in a seemingly unending wave, forcing him to his knees with its power. Not much? If Castle Corvana considered this outpouring of indescribable power to be miniscule, what would she consider a great gift? His skin grew hot, every muscle within his body longed for release before he could no longer withstand the pressure.

Morgana tightened her grip around his neck. Her lips pressed against his cheek, and her murmured words rushed over him like a cooling salve.  

When the magic finally stopped, taking the head-splitting gongs with it, the shouts that had been so distant grew close enough for him to make out individual voices. They were out of time. The men would be upon them within seconds. Drake didn’t have to think what to do. The magic within him pushed, and he jumped over the edge of the castle wall. There was a rush of air, a clench in his gut at the nothingness below, and then a burst of magic. Seconds later, he was flying through the air with Morgana clutched in one massive silver-blue claw. He drew the arm appendage closer to his chest, tucking his love into an impenetrable fortress.

 A knowing filled him, as though eons of magic infused his mind. This dragon form could only be passed on with the threat of a witch’s destiny.

Arrows whistled through the air, gliding toward his hulking shadow. Drake flapped his wings until he rose high into the sky. Flying took nearly no thought. Just as the magic pushed him from the castle, it showed him how to control this new body. The arrows fell short with two beats of his massive wings, but Drake did not stop. They would not be safe until they were out of sight. The cover of the clouds would be their only recourse.

Drake flew for over an hour before he found an empty mountaintop with a flat enough expanse of land that would not risk his wings. He clutched Morgana to his chest, landing clawed feet first with wings outstretched. Once he was sure of his footing, Drake lowered his hand to the ground and opened the claws.

Morgana hopped lightly to the ground and stepped back. Her gaze traveled over his new form from snout to tail.

Drake lowered his head, making sure to keep the rough jaw ridges away from her delicate skin. Once he settled on the ground, she leaned her left side against the space behind his eye and reached up to scratch the bony ridge. “Drake?”

“Yes?” His words came through clear, despite their rumble through a dragon’s maw.

Morgana sighed and scratched again. Her voice trembled. “Just making sure you were still in there. Do you think you’ll always be a dragon?”

Drake looked back at her. With a rustle of wings, he transformed back into a man. Morgana fell against him, and he hugged her tightly. “I can be whichever shape I need to protect you. That was the gift Corvana gave when she gifted me her magic. It gave me other magics, as well, but that is the most noticeable.” Drake reassured her with another squeeze.

Morgana wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands barely able to clasp together. Their difference in size was never more evident than when they were close to one another. Stands of magic curled around them. Morgana’s purple hue mingling with the silver of his own. A shot of blue teased the others when Morgana asked, “What other magics?”