Page 29 of The Teacup Dragon Sanctuary

It was tempting. When had Ophelia grown up so much? While Portia was away studying, she supposed, living her glorious life in the Academy, chasing her own star. She could hide from it all for now. Her sister would give her that. The letter would still be there though, lurking in the background, waiting for her, and preying on her mind. No, that would distract her and make things even worse.

She set the cup down carefully, picked up the official letter, drew in a deep breath, and tore it open.

11

The snuggery was a whirl of chaos, magic charging the air and sparking off the shelves. A rainbow of teacup dragons swooped and rolled in the currents, delighting in the whole thing. They were made for chaos, utterly at home in it, Noah thought, surprised at how affectionate that thought sounded. The short time he had spent caring for the teacup dragons so far had completely changed his views, it seemed. Seeing them outside of the world of breeders and fanciers, that staid and formal association with its cruel restrictions and barbs, had given him a fresh appreciation for them. They were joyful and sweet, full of life.

The eleven adult dragons here were relatively untouched by the decay of their magical connection. They were still bright and beautiful, still flying with ease, their cries of delight like birdsong. Their eyes flashed like precious jewels and their wings were blurs of motion, glittering and beautiful.

Noah was so taken with simply watching them that for a moment he forgot he was there to talk to Portia’s brother about their uncle. It was like being a child again, staring up at the mountains, at the distant shapes whirling in the sky, high overhead.

Something shot past his head, so close that he instinctively ducked. A feeding bowl, he realised, as it clattered into the wall behind him. There was a spray of water from the other side and suddenly he realised he was in the middle of a maelstrom of magic, with potentially painful objects flying at him, not just tiny dragons. Noah covered his head and tried to retreat, but the door behind him slammed shut. He may have given a yelp.

Seb’s voice sounded distracted. ‘Sorry! Sorry, I’ll just… hang on a second.’

Everything subsided in a staccato judder, like someone was trying to grab control by the handful. It was suddenly very quiet, but for the disappointed cooing of the dragons who fluttered back to their nests.

Noah uncurled himself and saw Seb still sitting in the middle of the floor, biting his lower lip, and watching him approach with wide eyes.

‘Sorry,’ Portia’s younger brother said again. He looked more like Portia than the others, slender, angular, with soft golden-brown eyes. His hair fell in a dishevelled mop over his face and he pushed it back with a long-fingered hand. ‘I was rather caught up in it. Did anything hit you?’

Noah shook his head. ‘Perhaps I should have knocked.’

Seb laughed ruefully. ‘If you had I wouldn’t have heard you anyway.’ He got to his feet and held out his hand nervously. ‘I’m Seb. The chaos gremlin of the family. Approach with care. They should have warned you. We haven’t actually met yet. Iris speaks highly of you.’

Noah shook his hand. Each of the Starling siblings surprised him in different ways. He could see their similarities but at the same time the glaring differences made it hard to believe they were actually related. Seb’s outwardly friendly nature and flippant remarks seemed such a contrast to the other three. He was more like Iris there. The youngest of them, Noah realised, and it showed in those eyes.

‘Portia asked me to talk to you about Art, about his work. There was something she missed in the book, a margin note.’

The understanding in his face shouldn’t have been a worry. It was like watching him reach a realisation and then instantly blame himself. ‘I should have warned her,’ he said. ‘They come and go, his notes. That was his way. He never shared everything. He’d been burned too badly by others stealing his work when he was young. The book wasn’t meant for anyone except him but even so…’ He cursed softly. ‘I should have told her to look out for things like that. I didn’t think. Blast, this is all my fault, isn’t it?’

He sank back to his sitting position on the floor.

‘No,’ Noah said, bemused. Seb couldn’t blame himself any more than Portia could, especially if the notes weren’t always visible. But they both seemed intent on shouldering the blame. ‘It was just…’

Seb shook his head, not really listening. ‘When did it appear?’

‘Just now. I… I mean, I saw it first, when we checked the recipe.’

Portia’s brother made a slightly sour face. ‘Oh, one of those. He had an odd sense of humour. I take it you don’t have any magic?’

He said it so matter-of-factly that Noah was taken aback. Most magical people were very circumspect about asking that question, as if being non-magical was something to be ashamed of. Or pitied.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘Not a bit.’

Seb nodded slowly and held out his hand. Three of the teacup dragons spiralled down to land on his arm, purring at him, rubbing their noses against his shirt. ‘That’s a favourite trick of Art’s, you see?’ he said. ‘Make it so something important is invisible to those with magic. He’d slide things in under a thaumaturgical field. Said it was to teach us not to be too reliant on our gifts. His spells were exceptional, but when he was at the Academy, they took advantage of him horribly, stole his ideas, cheated him. It’s kind of the way of things there. It’s cut-throat. He developed ways of protecting his work like that. Besides, he always said we relied on magic too much.’

A Starling? Arguing against the use of magic?

‘Can you help her? Portia, I mean. You know the book, don’t you?’

Seb shrugged, his attention fixed on the dragons who were clearly taken with him. Why not, with that much magic coursing through him? He might not have complete control of it, but he was powerful. There was no doubting that. He was a source of magic for them now, and they needed that. The gentleness with which he treated them was an added bonus. By now, Noah knew a besotted dragon when he saw one. Or rather, eleven of them.

‘Probably not. She wouldn’t want me to either. I tend to mess up her orderly approach, sometimes just by being nearby. Besides, I need to stay here, with the dragons, just to hold back the effects of the spell. If I can keep these ones safe…’

The resolution was there on his face, something that Noah recognised and respected. Seb wasn’t going to let anything happen to the flight if he could protect them. A trait of the whole family when you got down to it, protectors of this island and this sanctuary.

He settled down on the ground beside Seb Starling. ‘Portia asked if you knew of any spells in the book to reinforce or restore a magical connection. Something to create one? Or if your uncle had left an artifact to do that.’