Page 30 of Tanglewood Magic (The Three Sisters 2)
Eyes widening, Circe turned to Isis. “Can you get us to Hobble Glen?”
She gave a certain nod. “It will take a few hops to cover the distance, and it will be draining, but I can do it.”
“Then get us there. I’ll do the rest.” They joined hands, and the shadow of the mountain reached out, swirled around them, and carried them away.
An hour later, Circe found herself in the woods outside Hobble Glen, near the guard tower of the Obsidian Palace. Thankfully, it was warm here, but with Paragon’s sacred mountain looming over them, the temperature was the least of her worries. She gathered her strength and told the others her plan. “As smart as Rhys’s plan was, it doesn’t make sense for me to transform all three of us. If I transform myself into an animal, I won’t be able to hold my wand properly to transform myself back, and by the time my transfiguration wears off on its own, it may be too late.”
Rhys narrowed his eyes. “Then how do you plan to get us all inside?”
“Last time we were here, I noticed their carriages were pulled by Paragonian mountainhorses instead of vultar hounds. They don’t use dogs. I’m going to transform you into the most shining example of Darnuithian canines they’ve ever seen and present you at the door as gifts from the king and queen of Paragon.”
Rhys exchanged glances with Isis as if he wasn’t at all sure about this situation, but he gave her a nod of acceptance.
“Undress and put your clothes and wands in Rhys’s basket. I’ll carry it in.” Circe raised her wand and started centering herself, finding the right incantation in her head. She pictured the royal hounds that had pulled their carriage their first time here. When she opened her eyes again, she smiled at the way her sister and Rhys stood awkwardly among the trees, looking anywhere but at each other. She put them out of their misery.
“Metamorfóno!”She circled the tip of her wand in the air and snapped her wrist toward Rhys. His body sprouted a coat of shaggy black hair, and his nose and mouth stretched into a snout filled with razor-sharp teeth. He blinked red eyes at her.
“Handsome even as a dog,” she whispered, scratching his ear.
“Give me a break.” Isis rolled her eyes.
Circe flashed an impish grin before casting the same spell in her sister’s direction. Isis transformed into a vultar hound with a shaggy white coat. Together, the two were a striking match. She slipped the basket over her shoulder and then transfigured Rhys’s belt and Isis’s necklace into two jewel-studded collars and leashes. After fastening them easily around the necks of Rhys and Isis—who looked as if she might bite her—Circe led the two out of the woods and up the main road toward the palace grounds.
“Greetings,” she said cheerfully to the man in the tiny house. “I am Ruth Vestar here to deliver a gift to the king and queen of Paragon from the witch queen of Darnuith.”
The man frowned. “I don’t have you on the list.”
“Of course you don’t. What kind of surprise would it be if your king and queen knew it was coming? This is the way of our people.” Circe lifted her chin.
The soldier, dressed in red and black, cracked his neck and stared down at the dogs with a look of annoyance. “I’ll have to send a falcon to the palace to get permission.”
“Please do,” Circe said, but inside, she was worried. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time. As soon as the man looked away to whistle for a falcon, she pretended to fall and pushed both dogs forward, releasing their leashes. “Oh! Oh dear! I lost my grip.”
The guardsman groaned as the dogs ran full speed toward the palace. Circe gave him a desperate look and did her best to cast her influence over the dragon. “They will come to me. Please, allow me to pass and collect them.”
The male studied her. By the look on his face, he found her lacking in every way, which was a good thing because he immediately and thoroughly underestimated her.
“Go ahead through,” he grumbled. “I don’t have time for this,” he added under his breath.
Circe made a show of thanking him as she crossed the wards and wandered inside, her vapid expression morphing into one of determination as she chased the dogs around the side of the palace. She caught up to them and picked up their leashes.
“Good work. Now, to get inside,” she mumbled.
As it turned out, that feat wasn’t a problem at all because at that moment, an explosion rocked the palace.
Chaos broke loose around her. Red and black uniforms ran past her as fiery blasts blew from the mountain above. The ground rumbled. Rhys and Isis tugged her by the wrists into the gardens, where she hid among the foliage. She quickly slipped the collars from their necks. “Metamorfóno!”
Opening the basket, she tossed their clothing and wands at them. Heart thumping in her chest, she stared, dumbfounded, as people ran in all directions. Rhys, back to his normal form, grabbed her wrist and pointed toward the door. Unattended. If there had been a guard, he’d fled from whatever was causing the explosions. Screams peppered the twilight.
“What’s going on?” Circe’s heart clenched for Medea. Isis appeared beside her, fully dressed. Shadows clung to her like a second skin.
“I sense death inside,” she said darkly.
Circe jogged through the door and up the way they’d come before, hugging the shadows. A guard ran past them but didn’t stop. He didn’t seem to see them in his haste to exit the building.
“Do you feel that?” Rhys asked.
“Dread,” Isis said. “A witch has spelled these dragons to feel fear.”
