A Muddle of Magic. Alexandra Rushe

red, blue, and green and tipped with a pair of wickedly sharp horns.

      Raine looked around the chamber. There was a dragon-size hole in the wall where the door to the captain’s cabin had been, and splinters of wood were scattered on the floor.

      “Oh, dear,” she said, surveying the damage. “You’ve ruined Raven’s lovely paneling. He’s not going to be happy, I think.”

      Morven needed me, and the hole to this space was too small. The other hole, as well.

      Raine stared at the dragon with a sinking feeling. “You busted the hatch to the cargo bay, too?”

      Flame was in a hurry. The hole is much bigger now. Easier for Flame to come and go.

      “Oh, dear,” Raine said again.

      The demon doll squirmed in Flame’s grasp, stabbing at Raine in impotent rage. She gasped and drew back.

      Flame does not like the ugly. Does Morven wish to keep it?

      “No, Morven does not,” Raine said, taking care to avoid the doll’s reach. “Though I’m not sure what to do with it. Bree or Gertie will know. Say, where is Bree? Mimsie went to fetch him.”

      Mimsie is the creature with the flowery stench?

      “Yes,” Raine said, smiling at the dragon’s description. Her aunt’s ghost invariably left a cloud of Arpege in her wake. “You met her once before, in the cave. Remember?”

      Flame remembers. Flame remembers everything about that day. Flame was very sad and lonely. Flame called and called Morven. Then Morven came and—

      “Flame,” Raine said, halting the snake. “Did Mimsie tell you I was in trouble?”

      Yes. The stinky one woke Flame from his nap and said Morven needed him.

      “Mimsie doesn’t stink. That’s her perfume.” She gave the dragon a fond pat. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I’d be mincemeat, if it weren’t for you.”

      There was a thunder of footsteps and Raven burst into the cabin through the hole in the wall. Brefreton and Mauric were right behind him.

      “Tro,” Mauric said, gawking at Flame in astonishment. “It’s a dragon.”

      Raven drew his sword and advanced. “Don’t move, Raine.”

      Raven has a long tooth. Flame’s voice rose as Raven stalked closer. Why does Raven have a long tooth, Morven?

      “Stop that,” Raine said, stepping in front of Flame. “You’re scaring him.”

      “It’s a dragon, Raine,” Raven said, his expression grim. “It’s scaring us.”

      “It’s not a dragon. Well, technically, I suppose he is a dragon, but—” She stamped her foot in frustration. “Darn it, it’s Flame.”

      “Flame?” Raven’s sword wavered. “Flame is a snake.”

      “I thought so, too, but I was wrong. Flame is a dragon. I think that’s why he’s been so cranky lately. I think he’s been going through metamorphosis.”

      “Meta what?” Raven took a step closer, his mouth tightening. “Raine, there’s blood on your face. You’re hurt.”

      Raine touched her forehead and her fingers came away sticky with blood. “Oh, that. The ugly cut me on the ear.”

      Raven frowned. “The what?”

      Raine pointed to the struggling manikin in the dragon’s claws. “The ugly. More like a doll from hell, if you ask me.”

      “That’s not a doll,” Brefreton said, easing closer to peer at the ugly. “That’s a golem. Interesting. Very, very interesting. ʼTwould seem the rumors are true, and Glonoff is consorting with demons. Strictly forbidden, of course, but then, Glonoff’s never been one to play by the rules. Still, I didn’t think even he would go so far.”

      “Bree,” Raine said, holding onto her thinning patience. “What are you talking about?”

      “Magic of the darkest kind. Unless I’m much mistaken, this golem was woven from your hair.”

      “My hair?”

      “Yes.” Brefreton gave her a look of reproach. “I told you there’d be trouble when you cut it. But never mind. Where was I? Oh, yes, the golem. Glonoff fashioned it from your hair and then placed a demon—a djegrali, as it were—inside it. Mindless things, golems, and pure evil.”

      “It tried to kill me.”

      “I don’t doubt it,” Brefreton said. “And because it was made from your hair, you can’t escape it. Probably been following us for weeks, just waiting for a chance to get a crack at you.”

      “Tro.” Mauric looked sick. “How did it get aboard the ship?”

      “I fear that I am to blame,” Raven said. “When I returned to the village this morning, the longboat was missing. Because of the storm last night, I assumed it had come unmoored and drifted away, so I caught a ride back to the ship with a fisherman. Now I’m thinking the golem took it.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry, Raine.”

      “You couldn’t have known,” Raine said. “Fortunately, Flame was here.”

      “There’d have been no need of a dragon, if the crew hadn’t been soused.” Raven glared at the group of slack-faced sailors crowding the doorway. “Instead, I return to find them pigeon eyed, with their heads in a barrel.”

      Gertie jostled her way into the cabin. The troll had shed her robe and boots when they’d reached the southern coast of Finlara, and her shaggy fur was spiky.

      “Here, now, son, no need to chivy the lads for having a bit of fun.” She groaned and clapped her paws over her eyes. “I’m seeing dragons. Must’ve drunk more ʼn I thought. Hasn’t been a dragon in Tandara since before the Maiming.”

      “You’re not seeing things, Mor,” Raven said. “The dragon is Flame.”

      The troll lowered her paws. “Flame’s a dragon?”

      “Aye,” Brefreton said grimly, “and Glonoff sent a golem after Raine.”

      “A golem, you say?” The troll’s bloodshot gaze focused on the struggling creature in Flame’s talons. “Repulsive little bugger, ain’t it?”

      “Definitely,” Brefreton said. “How do we get rid of it?”

      “Good question.” Gertie stroked one of her tusks. “If we don’t destroy it completely, it will regenerate. Dragon fire should do the trick.”

      “Dragon fire, Mor?” Raven looked pained. “Must we really set fire to my ship?”

      “Calm down, boy. You and Mauric skewer the thing, and Flame will burn it to cinders. No harm done.”

      “Skewer it?” Mauric looked blank.

      “With your swords, boy,” Gertie said. “It’ll be like roasting squab over a bed of coals.”

      Raine cleared her throat. “There’s just one problem. We don’t know that Flame can breathe fire.”

      Gertie rolled her eyes. “He’s a dragon. You think he blows daisies?”

      Taking the golem from Flame, Raven and Mauric held the writhing tar baby between their swords.

      Raine took the dragon’s whiskered snout in her hands. “I want you to burn the ugly, Flame. Do you think you can do that?”

      Flame nodded. The ugly tried to hurt Morven. That makes Flame feel hot inside. Flame will burn the ugly.

      “That’s my good boy.”

      Lowering his horned head, the dragon pursed his lips and blew a stream of fire at the squiggling golem. The flame was delicate and precise,