Dracon (1st book of the Draconon Series)

Chapter 19

I nodded and felt a little better, grateful that he would still fight while I tried to figure out how to make this antidote.

I grabbed the rest of the stuff that I needed before I headed back to the cauldron. I could feel the eyes of the people that I had known for over a couple of years on me, but I didn't meet their gaze while I put a half a scoop of the stuff I put on Antonio's wound, an eye of a newt, three mermaid scales, a vial that seemed to be glowing, and whatever weird and random stuff that I had to bring.

"Shit," I said when I saw that I didn't see something that I didn't have. I bit my lip and went through the bottles that I had grabbed, not knowing how I had missed this one ingredient that seemed to be more important than the others.

"What is it?" Frederick asked, and I could hear the worry in his voice. "What happened?"

"Shit, shit, shit," I said, not answering him.

"Clover," Frederick said again. "What is it?"

I took a deep breath and let it out in a slow hiss. "I don't have this one ingredient," I said and didn't look at him. Guilt settled in the pit of my stomach because I had no idea how I would be able to help him now.

Frederick stayed silent and bit back a groan. "What is the last ingredient?" he asked.

"'The last ingredient for a Draconian's Bite is some Royal Draconon blood,'" I said, reading from the book. "'Only their blood can he-'" I stopped talking and lifted my head from the book when Ghost grabbed one of my hands.

"What? What is it?" Frederick asked with a growl. "Clover? What is wrong?"

I didn't respond and didn't flinch when Ghost made a long, almost deep but not too deep, cut on my hand and held it over the cauldron. I watched in stunned silence when the blood entered the cauldron and turned the color of this thing to this deep purple instead of black.

"Clover," Frederick said in a sharp tone, startling me out of my stupor. "Don't make me move myself over there."

"Don't move," I said and clutched my hand to my chest when Ghost released it. "I found the last ingredient."

"How?" Antonio asked. "How did you find it?"

I looked at him with wide eyes. "The last ingredient was me, my blood," I said, and they looked at each other.

"Meaning..?" Antonio asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It means that I am a Draconon," I said. "I am Draconon Royalty."

Ghost tapped on the book, and I instantly looked at it.

I read the incantation and pursed my lips before I handed Ghost a spoon. "Start stirring while I read this," I said.

Ghost started to stir, and I cleared my throat.

I started to read the incantation, surprised that I wasn't hesitating because it was pretty much just noises that I had never done before. It all came from the chest, the gut, and the back of the throat.

It wasn't a language that I hadn't been taught before, but for some reason, I knew it. I knew what this did and how to pronounce everything correctly, something that surprised me.

However, I felt comfortable with it. It was as if this language was my native language, while English was my second language. It was something that I was taught at birth, a birth that I couldn't remember.

The people in my apartment were quiet when the wind picked up and started to blow everything around when there was no wind to be felt beforehand. They watched in awe while the window burst open, and wind and power from the outside came in, twirling around me, Ghost, and the cauldron.

Magic pricked our skin while I said the spell, and if I had looked at my hands while I was reading the spell, then I would have seen them glowing a goldish reddish color that almost looked like flames.

Finally, after the last syllable was uttered, there was this bright light that came from my hands and around the cauldron. There was this loud pop that burst our eardrums but not enough to make them bleed while the wind died down and slammed the window shut.

The lights of the apartment went out, and I was pretty sure that the magic created the whole block to become dark and still.

Dogs were barking, and car horns were blaring, but none of us were paying attention to that. No, we were staring at the cauldron that seemed to be glowing an ombre color from the magic that was used to help create the spell.

"Is it finished?" Frederick asked, breaking the silence that had fallen on us. The pain in his voice stirred us all out of our stupor, and we looked at him and then at the cauldron.

I watched Ghost pick up the empty jar that I had brought with me and dumped it into the antidote.

Wordlessly, Ghost handed it to me when it was full, and I took it from it while I closed the book and placed it to my side.

"Guess so," I said and scooted over to him. I dumped my hand into the jar, surprised that it felt cool to the touch, and took a handful out. "So, that means, we can clean your wounds. After that, your wolf should be able to do the rest."

Frederick closed his eyes, and his lip flickered up into a small smile. "Should?" he asked with a soft snort. "Why should?"

"Because you are my first guinea pig with this," I replied. "I have no idea how this works on Wolves because I had never done it before."

Frederick snorted again. "Well, let's go," he said. "I want some relief. I am too handsome to die."

I bit my lip and nodded. "It's ok to scream," I whispered. "We won't judge you."

And with that, I started to place the antidote on his wounds while he screamed out in pain.

Gods, please let this work. Please.