Page 50 of The Teacup Dragon Sanctuary

He drew in another breath, his heart pounding, as something tightened around him like a noose. Magic, he realised. Lady Moorland gave a thin smile when she saw his confusion.

‘A truth spell,’ she explained. ‘Worth every penny. You won’t be able to lie to me, Noah. Now, talk.’

He opened his mouth to tell her that he’d lie to her if he bloody well wanted to, and the words died in his throat.

No, this wasn’t happening. Every spark of rebellion in him ignited. How dare she do this to him? How dare she do it to anyone? Use of magic like this was completely illegal. So was selling it. If she was prepared to do this⁠—

He had gone to the island because she’d offered to fund his expedition if he would pass on information to her about Iris Starling and her sanctuary. But honestly, all he’d expected to find was a doddery old woman with a bunch of ailing teacup dragons. Certainly not a mentor, and a purpose. Not friendships and fulfilment. Definitely not Portia and whatever they…

Blast, what a mess he had got himself into now. Bespelled and stuck here with this harpy, at her mercy and in her power. He needed to think.

He picked his words with care.

‘It’s a sanctuary for rescue dragons. Nothing more,’ he said. That was almost true. It was what she wanted to hear anyway, wasn’t it?

‘A sanctuary.’ She drawled out the word. ‘Rescue dragons. Do you expect me to believe that? Look at the creatures. Who has ever seen a rescue dragon look as healthy as that? Not to mention their behaviour. They’ve been trained more expertly than any I’ve ever seen. How does she do it? What secrets has Iris Starling been hiding there?’

Secrets? He thought of the elixir. But that wasn’t Iris’s secret. That was Portia’s work. And the magic that had been involved in its creation… that came from the island. If Portia was to be believed, right from the depths of its rocks, its heart. There was Art’s book of course, but Seb had hidden that away again and he wasn’t going to mention that to anyone he decided.

He didn’t think someone like Virginia Moorland should have access to anything like that. Or any information about it. And none of those things were Iris’s secret.

His heart raced and he scrambled through his thoughts. He needed to answer her.

‘Lady Moorland,’ he began carefully, ‘if you’ll just be patient I’m sure there’s some other arrangement we can come to. The expedition is the real thing of value here, not information about Starling Island.’

‘Your expedition? To Elanholm? What, so you can dig around and find whatever remains of the great draconic civilisation?’ Her voice dripped with scorn. ‘Well, truth goes both ways I suppose. They’re gone, you fool, all of them. The people who got left behind are backwards and determined to keep any surviving information like that to themselves. They will be very unlikely to welcome you. Even their ambassador who pretends to be oh so interested in my work with the teacup dragons doesn’t care about Shinael. He’s determined to keep us all out of Elanholm.’

Noah’s heart gave a jolt. If that was true, then why had she made her offer?

‘You promised you could get me in. Funding and access, you said.’

She smiled like a contented cat. ‘And I still can. I have contacts you wouldn’t believe. Perhaps less than legal but what does that matter now?’ She held up a single finger. ‘But quid pro quo, Noah. Tell me where they got those dragons. Is she breeding them or smuggling them in from somewhere? What is Iris Starling’s secret? Don’t try to lie. You can’t.’

He stared at her. Tell her about the elixir and the magical connections the dragons shared with those on the island and he could have everything he had ever wanted. And if he didn’t…

But he couldn’t.

He needed to pick his words with care.

‘I swear to you, there’s nothing I can tell you, Lady Moorland.’

That was the truth.

‘See reason, Noah.’ Her voice gentled, smoothed itself out to something closer to cajoling. ‘They can’t help you get what you want but I can. And I will. However, if there are no secrets to be ferreted out… there’s something else you can do for me. A perfectly easy task for you to perform.’

She pulled a small vial from her handbag and placed it on the desk. It contained a clear amber liquid. He stared at it, dread rising inside him. He couldn’t read the label from this distance but he didn’t need to. He could guess.

‘What’s that?’ he asked, hoping against hope. She couldn’t be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. And even having such a thing here…

It looked like Dewsalt, a highly restricted poison.

She laughed, a vicious and cruel sound. ‘Something that will solve all our problems here today. Give a few drops to each of the little beasts. You’re a veterinary specialist, Noah darling. I’m sure you can give them enough to just knock them out rather than kill them. If you’re as good as everyone says anyway. You’ll need to be very careful though. I’m not sure of the strength.’

‘I’m not poisoning them.’

‘A solution,’ she sneered, victoriously. ‘For both of us. Remove them from the competition one way or the other, and I will fund your expedition, and all your research for years to come. I will expedite every permission you need. I’ll even pay to kit you out for the journey. Everything and anything you want. A very small price to pay for that, surely?’

No, he couldn’t. What she was asking of him… it was monstrous.