Page 117 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
The crystal wall shuddered and fell inward, then caught and held again. Our drake’s defense was being crushed.
Let me in, I thought.Let me help you. Please.
Like sprawling through an unexpectedly opened door, I fell into the drake’s awareness. His brilliant senses flooded my mind.
I saw the crowd, fists raised and bodies twisting. Their motions were slowed and pitiably clumsy. My human mind recognized a fight: a thrown punch, a man falling.
But those glimpses were peripheral. The drake’s attention was locked on one person. The enemy. The corrupted wyfe.
In the drake’s senses, Lydia seethed with muddy, suffocating power. She was a vile goddess surrounded by insignificant rabble.
And, with a shock that stopped my breath, I recognized this tall woman shrouded in dark corruption. I had seen Lydia through draca eyes before—at Pemberley, when the tyke ran into the forest and saw a woman and man ride away with the stolen books.
Lydia and Wickham had been in Derbyshire. They had conspired with the thieves that killed Mr. Rabb.
My shock ignited into fury. I clenched my mother’s hand, and her binding flared, a brilliant cord to channel my anger. I screamed, “You shall not have him!” even as I plunged deeper into the drake’s awareness. I heard my words through his ears, distant and distorted.
The crystal wall exploded in radiance. Lydia’s dark assault shredded and burned like a handful of peat tossed into a smith’s furnace.
I sang in triumph, tones high and pure. Wings caught air. The world fell away as I soared upward.
A remote, human part of me thought: He is leaving.
Dizzyingly, flight arced and hung. Effortlessly, sky and earth spun. I stared down, a bird’s view of our manor and grounds, and with inhuman ease, my vision locked on Lydia’s figure in the crowd, dazed and falling to her knees.
Wings folded. Killing rear claws stretched. Flame swelled my chest. I plummeted, a bolt of fury that would slice and burn. Wind roared as screams rose in the crowd.
“No!” I shouted. With a jarring snap, my awareness yanked free.
Heat scalded my face. I struggled to see with weak and watering human eyes.
Lydia was on her knees. Unhurt. Glaring at me, disbelieving and furious.
A foot from her dress, the earth was burning, a yard-wide strip that ran the length of the garden between us. Dying embers of leaves and petals spun in the air, glowing crimson and gold.
At the last moment, our drake had heard me and turned his attack to flame the earth instead.
The crowd was wide-eyed and still. And it had grown. Mr. Hill and a half-dozen of our tenants had arrived while I fought Lydia. They were mixed with the strangers, caught in small, frozen scuffles. Their poses—mouths open to shout, fingers clenching clothing, fists cocked—looked almost comical.
With a flip of his wings, the drake landed on my shoulder. Landed with his claws open, as was painfully evident even through my thick dress. I gritted my teeth as he settled and found his balance.
“The Lord has delivered this drake to his rightful owner,” Mary announced.
I had forgotten about that. Thank goodness for Mary. Although, it would be better if our drake chose Mamma. I considered asking him to move, but my mother would not enjoy having a heavy, razor-clawed animal drop onto her shoulder.
One man ran, then it was a scramble. In seconds, only the Longbourn tenants and Mr. Hill remained.
Mrs. Hill walked to her husband and hugged him—something I had not witnessed in my entire life—then scolded him for standing in the daisies.
“That Mr. Sallow is very rude,” Mamma said. “I shall tell him my opinion when we meet in town.”
“Thank you, Mamma,” I said and kissed her cheek. She clucked. “And you, Mary. You were remarkable.”
Mary was pensive. Finally, she said, “I will thank our tenants,” and crossed the smoldering garden to mingle with our defenders.
I watched her methodically speak with each person—serious, as she usually was, but receiving warm replies. While I was north, Mary had assumed my estate duties with Papa. My sister was very changed in the last six months.
“Your shoulder is bleeding,” Kitty said timidly.
