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  Felicity’s Challenge

  “Roughing it, as you so casually put it, is highly overrated,” he scoffed. “I much prefer the fact that I don’t have to.”

  “Ha,” she chuckled. “Just as I thought. I’ll bet that you couldn’t last one night if you tried camping the Mundane way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not talking about simply sleeping out under the stars, with your wand at your beck and call whenever a whim may take you,” she explained with a smirk. “I mean good, old-fashioned Mundane camping.”

  “Are you serious?” he laughed. “You mean as in rubbing two sticks together to start a fire, building a lean-to out of a bunch of twigs, and sleeping on a bed of leaves type camping? Of course not.”

  “I’ll bet you couldn’t last one night out in the wild, could you, Master Lancelot Jones?” she teased him.

  “Oh, and you think you could, bookworm?” he scoffed good-naturedly, sitting forward in his chair so their noses were practically touching. “All right, I’ll tell you what. We won’t pop from here to Mont Blanc, as I planned. We’ll go straight back to Calais and take a train south to Geneva, just like the Mundanes would have to do. And when we get there, we’ll build a fire, pitch a tent, and toast some marshmallows or something.”

  Copyright©2018

  Robin Joy Wirth

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 9781980355809

  Originally crafted as Terratica’s Talisman for NaNoWriMo 2013, this work has now undergone numerous changes and taken on a new name to serve as the first in a series of stories to be set within this world. You can look for the new books upcoming in the near future.

  For updates on this and her other works, please visit Robin’s website:

  http://www.redshadow67.com

  RedShadow’s Quill is a site with tips and tools for writers of steamy romance, both fan fiction and original. Ready to take your writing up a notch? Stop by and have a look around today.

  Dragon’s Eye

  Robin Joy Wirth

  Dedication

  For Jeffery, the hero of my real-life romance. Thanks for putting up with my muse.

  ONE

  From the perspective of the unsuspecting Mundane eye, the huge crowd of people now gathered in front of Big Ben, right in the heart of the city of London, did not exist. Anyone walking through that area beyond the Veil occupied the exact same space, just in a different dimension.

  Big Ben itself occupied a space which was of great importance to many Londoners, though anyone who lacked magical skills didn’t know it. The site was, in fact, the same place that was occupied by the Magehold of London—a large and somewhat forbidding structure not unlike the castles of old—although some people might deem it quite the largest of them all.

  Magehold was the meeting place of the Council of Elders, and it contained all other important offices in that hidden world. It was also the place to which the Magi flocked whenever anything of importance happened in their society, just as it had today.

  The High Mage of London, Archibald Flanders, stood on a balcony overlooking the enraged group of witches and wizards with a smug look plastered onto his face. His lips were pressed into a tight line as the roar of the protesting members, and those who completely opposed them, echoed louder and louder below.

  He stepped forward at precisely five o’clock, as indicated by the dim, chiming sound coming from beyond his world. Most witches and wizards could not hear the old clock, and he felt the same surge of satisfaction he always did each time he, himself, could.

  “Silencity!” he shouted, raising his hands above his head and neatly casting a spell to quiet them down. It may have earned him a few glares, but he was more than willing to force his will upon the throng if it served his purpose, which it did right now.

  “Everyone here is well aware of the gravity of this situation,” he intoned, his voice booming over them as he cast a voluminate as well.

  “Thas a gross understatement!” shouted a stalwart wizard in heavy brogue. Archibald didn’t need to look to the back of the crowd to recognize who had spoken, nor did he bother to acknowledge that he’d heard the wizard in question at all.

  “You all know it is forbidden for any Mage under the age of twenty-four to venture beyond our realm without an accompanying Mage who has weathered the dangers of Mundania many times before,” Archibald scolded. “There are things beyond the Veil which are incomprehensible to any witch or wizard who has never experienced the place for themselves.”

  “Get to the point, mon,” the same wizard complained, and this time Archibald cast him a glance meant to quell.

  “Young Theodore Lundy was acting well outside the laws set forth by the institution when he took his little jaunt outside, and as you can see it was indeed a foolish thing to do.”

  A tall, determined-looking wizard strode through the crowd, and they all moved aside to let him through. No one could blame them really, for the wizard had dressed in his best robes, and his long, golden mane was drawn back into a ponytail. His intent was only to keep the hair out of his face, but it lent a look of severity to his overall appearance that people had long-since learned they should heed.

  As he neared the front, the man cast a voluminate of his own so he could be heard. “Sir? Where is Theodore Lundy now? He was not unduly harmed by this unfortunate experience, I trust?”

  “Only his pride, Lancelot Jones, though it could have been much worse if he’d been harmed, or chosen to injure any of the four Mundane thugs who accosted him,” Archibald replied. “Now please, I must ask you to hold all of your questions until everyone is on the same piece of parchment.”

  Lancelot squared his shoulders and curbed his tongue at the slight, but the crowd surrounding him went wild with indignation on his behalf. Many of them shook their fists at the High Mage, while some others turned their backs to him completely.

  “Sir, you cannot silence a wizard’s questions like that!” shouted a nearby witch as she pushed Lancelot forward. “Every witch or wizard among the Magi has the right to be heard!”

  Another wizard grabbed Lance’s arm and drew him to the front of the crowd, saying, “Yes, Archibald, you must let Master Jones speak, if he will. That’s one law at least that you cannot tamper with.”

  Lancelot reclaimed his arm and said, “I shall wait as the High Mage has asked, if you please. And so should you all, so that we may discover what it is he’s come all the way out here to tell us.”

  Archibald waited for everyone to quiet down again before he continued. “The Mundanes have been completely unaware of the presence of Magehold for many centuries. Our spells, and the presence of the Veil, have helped keep us hidden most effectively. We have survived as the Anglo-Saxons held sway, and we have thrived throughout every other regime since.

  “In all that time, we have interacted with the Mundanes any way we pleased, using them to farm our foods, provide us with all of our goods and clothing, or to do any other task a wizard cannot do behind the Veil. We cannot simply disappear completely into our fortress of magic, for that magic’s very existence disallows our own crops to grow or our magical beasts to be shorn for wool.

  “But thanks to Lundy getting caught on film using magic to save himself, all of Mundane London has been in the worst kind of an uproar ever since. A hundred thousand memory spells cannot possibly eradicate such hard evidence.

  “If the lesser folk begin to balk, our entire way of life is under severe threat. It was therefore my unfortunate mission to seek out the Mundane Prime Minister and plead for Lundy’s immediate release. I explained to him that the lad had broken the laws of his own kind, and should therefore be dealt with by us.

  “He voiced a great concern that the Magi walked among them at all
, and wanted us to withdraw from their world completely. I had to explain to him that in our dimension it is impossible for us to grow food, and I was able to convince him that should he press such an issue he would not succeed in the attempt. No Magi would be willing to starve just for the sake of a Mundane’s pride.

  “So, in the interest of preventing an all-out war between our two worlds, I had to agree to a compromise. I was forced to strike a deal.”

  “Wot sort of a deal?”

  Archibald flinched as the stalwart wizard whipped his wand into the air, high above his head, and used it to float over the sea of bodies that stood in his way. He landed beside Lancelot Jones with a flourish, and gave that wizard a nod of respectful greeting, which the other man summarily returned.

  “Now, Dervish, there’s no need to be so forceful. We don’t want to stir these good people up even further,” the High Mage admonished him.

  The rest of the crowd backed up slightly, leaving the two outspoken wizards alone in front of them to continue their tirade.

  “McTavert’s a member of the Council,” Lancelot reminded him with a triumphant smirk. “You’ll not be able to disrespect him the way you just disrespected me, Flanders. This angry mob would never stand for it.”

  “You need not remind me of Director McTavert’s position, Master Jones,” Archibald answered in a quelling tone. Lancelot continued to glare at the man, unruffled by his ire.

  “The Magi have been forbidden from interfering in the affairs of the Mundanes in any way, Dervish. Furthermore, we are barred from any use of magic outside of the Veil. And most importantly, we are no longer allowed to use any spells on the Mundanes themselves, no matter what the reason.”

  “Are ye daft, mon?” Dervish snorted. “We canna agree to thot! How will we get on without compelling Mundanes to serve us? We’ve always gotten by with the concept thot the Gifted must further their own needs at the expense of lesser beings. We see to our own prosperity first, and theirs second. ‘Tis just our way.”

  “Not anymore, it isn’t,” Archibald insisted. “As of right now I am invoking the Law of Three. Whatever a Mage sets forth into the world shall return to him threefold. We are no longer to command the Mundanes. All help from them must be freely given, or we shall be forced to do the tasks for ourselves. Without magic while we are among them.

  “But we’ve gained a victory of sorts, making such a concession. The Prime Minister agreed to deem the recorded footage a hoax, ending the unrest among his own people, and insuring their safety all at the same time.”

  “Ye’ve gone insane, Archibald,” Dervish insisted. “Ye’ll be bringing about the ruin of us all!”

  “Yes, I quiet agree with McTavert,” Lancelot piped in. “Without the compelling spells, how will we stock our larders? Without Mundane fabrics, how will we keep ourselves clothed? We cannot risk asking for their help instead of simply demanding it. There’s too great a possibility they’d refuse.”

  The two wizards now linked arms as they glared up at Archibald. In turn, he sneered down at them. “Of course you agree with him, Master Jones. Everyone knows you’re Dervish McTavert’s little lap dog. Where would you be today if he hadn’t appointed you as the curator of his Magical Museum? I’d expect no less from you.”

  “I can assure you, sir, that my opinions are my own,” Lancelot informed him hotly. “Why do you find it necessary to pick a fight with me rather than defend your pathetic Law of Three? You know it can never work, you’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

  “Enough!” Archibald shouted. “The Law of Three has been enacted, and you will abide by it. That is all.” Saying this, the wizard turned away and went inside.

  Beyond the Veil, Big Ben’s chimes echoed into his ears, and Archibald smiled with satisfaction as he realized precisely fifteen minutes had elapsed since the beginning of his speech. He had been just as efficient as he’d hoped to be. Now, he only hoped the Magi would heed his words.

  TWO

  Professor Gregory Spine stood before a class of thirty acolytes as they all stared at him attentively. As the timekeeper called out the hour somewhere in the distance, he gave a heavy sigh.

  He knew everyone there had only one thing on their minds today, and trying to talk about anything else would be a losing battle. Instead, he decided to talk about the topic that was foremost.

  “Good afternoon, class. I’m sure all of you heard the news by now that the High Mage has set a controversial new law. So today, I thought perhaps we could discuss the problem completely. As always, I’ll ask that each person speaks one at a time, and in the respectful manner expected of all Magi. And, since I know that most of you don’t like the law, I’d very much like to hear first from somebody who does. Anyone?”

  “I’ve got something to say, sir,” said a petite, tawny-haired witch seated at the front of the class. She brushed a mass of curls from her flashing brown eyes and got to her feet as she spoke. Several of her classmates groaned in response.

  “Miss Felicity Lake, I might have known you’d have something to say on the matter,” Gregory commented with an indulgent smile as he folded his hands behind his back and stepped over to her side.

  Felicity nodded sagely. “I’m fairly certain many of you believe this new law is useless, but I can assure you that it’s not. It’s going to have a profound impact on the entire future of Magehold and all of its citizens, and I for one feel the change will be for the better.”

  A fellow classmate, Bruno Lovette, groaned at this pronouncement and held a hand to his face, vigorously shaking his head. The Professor cast a stern look in his direction, and the young man subsided.

  “I believe that the current system we’ve employed, wherein the Magi are superior to all other beings, is flawed,” Felicity insisted in a passionate tone, putting forth her hand as though she wanted to shake a fist but thought better of it.

  “Humanity’s greatest flaw has always been the ‘us and them’ mentality, as evidenced by so many wars among both the Mundanes and the Magi throughout history. If we could but accept that we are all one and the same race, and work together for the good of all humans, not just the Magi, we could achieve a far greater existence than we have so far.”

  “And I believe you’re a do-gooder, rosy cheeked little Mundane lover,” scoffed Bruno as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What good does it do to preach the ideas of peace, love, and understanding if those things cause me to go hungry? What good is it to me or any other Mage if kindness to some Mundane means I won’t get to have a brand-new suit of clothes when I want it? Mundanes exist to serve our needs. You must treat them in their designated capacity or they’ll believe they’re more than they truly are.”

  “That’s complete and utter rubbish, Bruno,” Felicity scolded him. “I’ve been to Mundania many times, unlike you, and I happen to know that the people there are kind, hard-working folks who, for the most part, would willingly welcome the chance to help us out if we asked them to. They’re not all like the cruel thugs who attacked poor Theo.”

  “By the gods, you sound as though you believe we should make friends with them,” Bruno scoffed. “You don’t make friends with your servants, Miss Fancy-pants, you command their respect. You only give them what is needful for them to continue to do their jobs. Even a Mundane would tell you as much.”

  “Only an uppity, rich one,” Felicity retorted in the most scathing tone possible. Her nose wrinkled up as she added, “Which appears to be universal as well.”

  “If not for the wealth of my family, Academie Magica would not even be here,” Bruno reminded her as he got to his feet. He came over to shake a fist in her face.

  Felicity drew her wand to hold him off. “I may be small, Bruno Lovette, but you’ll not manhandle me!”

  “Students, please!” Professor Spine protested. “This is precisely the sort of behavior I was trying to avoid. If the two of you hope to become useful, productive members of Magehold someday, you must refrain from such outbursts. Bruno Lovette,
Miss Lake has the floor. Please be kind enough to return to your seat.”

  “My father pays your wages as well, Professor,” he sneered as he stalked back to his chair. “You would do well to remember that.”

  “And do you believe your father would condone your current antics, young Master Lovette?” asked Professor Spine with one eyebrow arched in his direction.

  Bruno clamped his mouth shut and sat down with his arms crossed over his chest, choosing not to answer. Everyone there was well aware that the Director of Education, Kael Lovette, would have been appalled if he happened to witness such behavior from his only son.

  “Please continue, Miss Lake,” said Gregory with an encouraging smile.

  “Certainly, Professor,” she said, resuming her former pose. “I cannot agree with the concept that our way of life would fail if the Mundanes refused to help us, either. Even though we cannot grow food inside of the Veil, I’m certain that we could easily obtain land outside of it and grow food there, or that we could somehow disrupt the magical barrier surrounding farms here. My own aunt was already making strides towards that very purpose, as a matter of fact. It’s unfortunate that one of her spells backfired, and blew up the whole thing.”

  Bruno snickered, and Felicity rolled her eyes. “Also, I must add that certain Mundanes would be willing to help us even if their governing body itself did not. But the biggest question is, why does everyone just assume that if we asked them the answer would be no?”

  Professor Spine straightened up and cleared his throat. “Well, I do believe there have been occasional attempts to befriend the Mundanes, but never within my own lifetime. In other words, the last two hundred years or so. One of those occasions resulted in the Inquisition, and many lives were lost because of it. That’s when the Veil was reinforced to the point of being too powerful to allow cultivation.”