Deviating From The Spell: The Tales of Ryely Drakcon Book 1 by AR Johnston

Author:AR Johnston [Johnston, AR]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Scales of turquoise, shimmering blues, and silvers with an opalescent sheen sparkled in the sunlight as I took my final glide toward my house. I didn’t worry that anyone would see because I was cloaked to mortal eyes—or anyone else for that matter—unless I wanted to be seen. I glided in and came to a running shift, landing straight from dragon to human. Walking naked to my house, I flicked my wrist and sent a touch of magic at the door, opening it. No one had been here today and nobody would be either. With a thought, the wards around the house trembled in silence, snapping back into place. There was no way I could deal with anyone right now. My little world had been flipped over and turned upside down. It would never be the same again, and I couldn’t ignore it. That was what I hated most.

I went straight to my room and reached for a box under my bed—a gorgeous mahogany, hand-crafted box with delicate Celtic symbols carved all over it. Placing it on top of the bed, I strode to my dresser, grabbing underwear and a t-shirt to put on. After I dressed, I went to the box again, pulling it down on the floor with me as I sat and leaned against the frame to open it.

Reaching inside, I pulled out a newspaper article first, which was thirty-four years old and safely preserved in a plastic sleeve. It was about an infant that was left at the nursing station on the maternity ward and no one knew how she had arrived. The hospital staff were baffled because no one had seen anything. The hospital video cameras showed nothing either, just a basket with a baby inside popping up out of nowhere. The baby girl inside had been sound asleep, wrapped in a fluffy turquoise and silver blanket, a stuffed dragon toy in her arms and a note on her belly that read, “Her name is Ryely Drakcon. Please care for her.” Authorities looked everywhere for information, but nothing was ever found.

I had spent my first few weeks on the maternity floor. Everyone thought someone would come back for me, but they never did. I was told I was no trouble at all, which seemed odd to me considering how much trouble I liked to cause now. They said that even after several weeks, I had conversations with my stuffed dragon and only got angry when it was taken from me. Who knew? Maybe I was having conversations with him. Maybe that was my first look at Wrath before he became a permanent part of me when I turned one, when he showed up as a small birthmark on my upper leg.

When no one claimed me, I went to Social Services. I was adopted by one of the nurses who had taken care of me, Diane’s mother, Clara Harper. She never wanted me to call her mom in case my real family came looking for me, and she told me that all my life.

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