The Dragon Heir Read Online Free PDF Page B

many
hours as Rachel would give her at the Legends Inn, she was broke and getting
broker. Christmas was coming and she didn't have any presents for Grace or John
Robert or Carlene.
    Or Seph.
    She glanced at her watch and
walked faster. Trinity Square was a holiday postcard from the past: snowy
commons surrounded by the weathered stone buildings of the college, bows and
greenery draped over the old-fashioned street lamps. Quaint storefronts
glittered with their holiday offerings and shoppers hustled by with bundles and
bags.
    Totally perfect.
    Totally annoying.
    But better than home. Back in
Coalton County, she was the subject of sermons in hangdog little churches where
sweaty-handed preachers used her as a bad example. “Witch,” they shouted.
And whispered, “Firestarter.” People crossed the street when they saw
her coming. They collected into prissy little groups after she passed by, like
gossiping starlings.
    Trinity's sidewalks were
crowded with glittering people whose magic glowed through their skins like
Christmas lights through layers of snow. They were mostly Anawizard Weir—members of the non-wizard magical guilds who'd taken
refuge from the war in the sanctuary of Trinity.
    It was a war unnoticed by the
Anaweir—non-magical people—but the
bloodletting had spread all over the world. It was a running battle between
shifting factions of wizards, the nightmare the Covenant had been intended to
prevent. Those in the underguilds who refused to participate had fled to
Trinity—and were deemed rebels because of it.
    Madison didn't shine, so they
never gave her a second glance.
    The scents of cinnamon and
patchouli teased her nose as she stepped into the warm interior of Magic Hands,
the consignment art shop on the square. Iris Bolingame was at her worktable in
the back, soldering glass. Iris was a wizard with stained glass. Literally.
    “Hey, Maddie,” Iris
said, setting down her work and washing the flux from her hands. “I have
to tell you—people love your work. It's
been attracting a lot of interest.”
    Madison fingered the beaded
earrings hanging from the Christmas tree on the counter and gazed longingly at
the jewelry in the glass showcase. “I was just—you know—I wanted to see if any of my pieces
sold.”
    “Hmmm.” Iris came
forward to the counter and riffled through the card file. “Let's see.
Three prints, one watercolor, four boxes of notecards.” She looked up at
Madison. “Wow. In just two weeks. That's great, huh?”
    “I was wondering if I
could get the money now.”
    Iris hesitated. “We
usually wait until the end of the month and process all the checks at once, but
if it's an emergency …”
    “Never mind,”
Madison said, pretending to examine the kaleidoscopes on the counter. “I
was just going to do some shopping is all.” Traitorous tears burned in her
eyes. I hate this, she thought, and I've done it all my life. Scraping,
scrimping, making excuses.
    “Are you all right,
honey?” Madison looked up and met Iris's worried eyes.
    “I'm fine,” she
whispered, willing Iris not to call her on it.
    The wizard impulsively reached
out for her, then yanked her hand back at the last moment, pretending to fuss
with the ornaments that dangled from her long braid. Iris hadn't been at Second
Sister, but she'd certainly heard about it. Wizards were wary of a person who
could suck the magic right out of them.
    It's like I have an incurable
disease, Maddie thought, and no one knows how contagious it is. Not even me.
    “If you have anything
else you'd like to place here…” Iris's cheeks were stained pink with
embarrassment.
    Madison straightened, lifted
her chin, cleared her throat. “Actually, there's something I'd like to
take back, for now, anyway.” Madison shuffled through the bin of matted
drawings, pulled one out, and slid it into her portfolio. She brought the
sticker to Iris, who noted it on Maddie's card. “I have a few other prints
back in my room. I'll bring them in