Page 2 of A Witch for Solstice
“Oh shit.” I smack the fabric, smothering the rogue embers before they can cause irreparable damage. The edge is burnt to a crisp, but I should be able to patch it up before the Headmistress returns.
I take another glance at the drive below. The dragons are climbing the steps to the Academy, and the maids are rushing in the opposite direction. Their bustled skirts drag over the snow-covered drive. I watch them run past the iron gates and disappear into the darkness of the woods beyond our boundaries.
It seems they’ve surrendered to the dragons and forgotten all about me being holed up in this old, charmed dormitory. I’m probably the only person left in the building.
I flex my fingers, considering my options. Hiding under my bed would be the smartest choice. I could wait under the solid oak frame and hope the dragons won’t discover me as they search for the relic our coven stole from their last King.
Yes, I think that’s why they’re here. I’m almost certain they’ll find it in this wing. It’s where the Headmistress likes to keep her dangerous things.
Another idea crawls through my fuzzy brain. After a bottle of wine, I can’t tell if it’s really bad or amazing.
The Headmistress can’t stop me from accessing my element if I escape the magical boundaries of our coven. The Dragon Territory is just north of the Witchlands, separated by a mountain range we’re forbidden from crossing without permission. I can get past that obstacle, though, if I’m right about what they’re looking for.
Snow is falling outside my window, plump flakes filling the horde’s footprints down below. The dragons are moving in. There’s no time to waffle on this decision.
I glance at my bed, but I can’t make myself dive beneath it. This half-assed escape plan could have dire consequences, but I’ll take the risk if there’s even a slight chance I might be able to hold my magic and feel complete again.
“Let’s do this,” I say, pepping myself up as I tug the sash from my robe. It forms a silky red pool around my feet, leaving me standing in my white babydoll nightgown. It’s nothing special, but the flared skirt, U neckline, and puff sleeves create a flattering look on my curvy body.
I wrap the sash from my robe around my waist and tie it with a big red bow because the dragons have recently selected a new monarch—Matilda of the Lindanna Horde, the first Dragon Queen in centuries. And from what I’ve heard, she’s a sapphic just like me.
I’m going to delivermyselfto Queen Matilda as an offering.
I creep out into the dark corridor, and down to the open salon at the end of the wing, where the Headmistress keeps her collection of cursed objects and other rare oddities. Once I reachthe stone archway, everything is illuminated by the suspended orbs bouncing along the vaulted ceiling.
Sliding across the polished floor in my stockinged feet, I pass the mahogany shelves displaying possessed dolls locked in charmed cases and nearly bang my knee on a haunted chair.
“That was close,” I gasp, taking a clumsy step back.
The spirit trapped inside is a shrieker. The last time someone touched the damn thing, it screamed bloody murder for two weeks. Alerting the intruders to my presence is the last thing I need, so I tiptoe carefully up to the platform where the Headmistress stores the most precious gem of her collection—an item she regularly boasts about to visiting covens.
The Royal Dragon Chest.
The heirloom used to be passed down to each new ruler of the Dragon Territory, its contents kept secret for centuries, but now the chest’s lid is propped open to show how empty it is. Whatever relics were in it have been sold off or traded.
I run my hand along one of the chest’s long iron edges and peer into its depths, a harsh realization cutting through my buzz as heavy footsteps pound down the hallway.
I’m being ridiculous. There’s no telling how the Dragon Queen will react when she opens a traditional heirloom and finds me.
A raspy, feminine voice sounds from somewhere near the south stairwell.
“Be careful,” she cautions. “I thought I heard a mouse scurrying around up here.”
Alarm bells ring through my head. Dragons have broken into the castle, and I’m going to use them as my getaway? What in the hellfire am I thinking?
“We don’t make life-altering decisions while drinking, Brigid,” I whisper-scream, chastising myself for this bonkers idea.
Changing my mind, I consider the quickest, quietest path to the nearest exit. A deep male voice comes from that direction, stopping me in my tracks before I can make my way to it.
“I’m not taking any chances while you’re here,” says the dragon. “We gave the Academy’s staff an opportunity to flee. Anyone sticking around might be up to something.”
That doesn’t bode well for me. I can’t make it to my room without being seen, so I guess there’s no turning back now.
“Here goes nothing.” I climb into the chest and pull the lid down, the lock clicking into place as it shuts. A few moments later, I’m being lifted and carried through the castle. I paint its layout in my mind, trying to guess when the dragons make it outside.
My heart swoops up in my chest, and I bite back a smile as I recognize the tug of a familiar sensation in my stomach. Everything is going to be ok. I’m past the walls of the Academy, and in this moment, I’mflying.
CHAPTER 2
