Page 54 of Knight of the Sword

Michael stopped, pulling her back a little from the crowd. “According to him, you are descended from the Roman goddess Epona. She protected soldiers and horses.”

Sophie scowled. “That’s impossible. I’m Scottish. Well, American, but my family’s ancestry is Scottish.”

Michael leaned down to whisper in her ear. “And Scotland is where the Templars managed to escape with their treasure. The relics were part of that, remember? There are no coincidences, Sophie.” He straightened. “Besides, didn’t you admit you have a special affinity for horses?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“No buts. Look.” Michael pointed to the Dock Theatre across the street. As the twilight turned to dusk, the soft, yellow glow of the old-fashioned streetlamps lit the buildings and, behind them, a lavender-colored mist seemed to be forming. It became brighter and the crowd around them grew quiet.

Suddenly the silence was rent with a deafening roar as several bolts of what looked like lightning flashed through the air, followed by the furious flapping of leathery wings as a white form streaked through, dipping almost to the rooftop, and then lifted off, disappearing into the night.

People panicked, milling about, pushing at one another to get away before the thing returned. A young man with long brown hair brushed against them and Michael pushed Sophie behind him, setting an invisible ward so people scurried around them. He scanned the sky for a return, but was pretty sure this had been for show. Balor wanted them to know that he knew where they were. He felt Sophie’s fingers tapping his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be safe,” he said. “I’ve got us shielded.”

Sophie raised her arm and pointed. “Then why is she watching us?”

Michael followed her direction to the second floor of the theatre. A young woman stood quite still, seemingly unaware of the panic ensuing on the street below. She was dressed in 1830s garb, complete with boa, bonnet and bustle. Her gaze held Michael’s as she slowly faded away.

“You’ve just met your first ghost, Sophie,” he said.

****

Two days later, they were headed down I-95 toward Miami and the Keys. Museum Mile had turned up nothing, nor had several museums in Savannah and St. Augustine offered anything they could use in their hunt. Sophie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Is your leg hurting again?” Michael asked.

“Just a little,” she answered as she stretched it as much as she could, “but I’m not taking any more pain pills. It was bad enough seeing that apparition. I don’t want to be seeing ghosts where there aren’t any, just because of drugs.”

“Drugs weren’t affecting you,” Michael answered. “What you saw was real, or at least as real as a person from the past can be. Charlestonians pretty much take her in stride.”

“Well, they sure didn’t take the white dragon in stride, did they?”

“He swept by so fast they aren’t sure of what they saw, thank God.”

Pendragon rumbled from the rear of the SUV. “Sigurd and I have unfinished business. I wish you’d let me get a crack at him.”

Michael glanced in the rearview mirror. “Just be glad that in your smaller form, he couldn’t scent you that well, or you might be ash by now.”

He roared, only it sounded more like a growl. “Britain nearly fell because of him. I want my revenge.”

“And perhaps you’ll get it,” Michael said, “but the time isn’t right. We need to keep you hidden as much as possible. The media went into a frenzy over that sighting. We can’t afford for anyone to see you too.”

“At least we weren’t the target this time,” Sophie said. “The reporters took it as some strange phenomenon associated with that purple light.”

“Only because the dragon flew through so fast that people hardly could see what he was. And at least he didn’t spot us.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Pendragon said. “Dragons have eyesight sharper than an eagle’s.”

Sophie turned in her seat to look back at him. “Then why did he leave us alone? We were easy targets, out in the street like that.”

“I doubt that we’ll come to any harm until we find the Sword,” Michael said. “Balor doesn’t know where to look this time, so his best hope is to have us followed.”

“But then why let us know about the white dragon? Wouldn’t he want to keep Sigurd as a secret weapon?”

“No doubt,” Michael replied, “but, as you may have noticed, dragons are not exactly docile animals.”

“Damn right,” Pendragon said from where he sat.