The Dragon Ring (Book 1) by C. Craig Coleman Read Free Book Online Page A

dragon-tooth handle swayed, protruding above Minnabec’s pasty, cold hand clawing to free itself. Earwig patted his wispy-haired head while she held the bowl in the other hand to catch the blood dripping off the desk’s edge.
    “There, there, the bloodletting will be over soon.”
    The miser stared at his swelling hand. “Why must you drain my blood all the time?” They watched as his thin, pale life force pulsed from the wound into a waiting earthenware receptacle. He knew better than to resist.
    “Other than gold, what else are you good for?” the witch asked through the hideous smirk which always followed a vicious comment.
    “You’re plotting some spell to damage the family further.”
    “Like you?”
    Minnabec’s gaze remained fixed on his wound. When she plucked out the dagger, he snatched back his fouled hand and slunk to the room’s far corner.
    “You’re so perceptive,” Earwig said over her shoulder as she left. She chuckled and glanced down at Radrac, her face relaxed in a victorious sneer. The witch overheard his whimpering until the door shut behind her.
    The specimen bowl in hand, Earwig returned to her black tower. She placed an iron cauldron with its coagulating contents on the tripod before the fireplace to warm the cold blood. From the table, she took a dingy scroll and reread the requirements for the spell. Satisfied, she peered down at Radrac.
    “I’ve honed my magic skills through the years, even before Minnabec abdicated. Here before me is a large collection of the recorded knowledge of how to corrupt, hex, and subvert good to evil. Don’t you just love it?”Earwig sighed and clasped her hands, glanced at the head-bobbing rat, pinched her chin and bit her lip. “This is quite an old, dark, and powerful spell. I’m confident I can control the thing responding to my summons. Let’s hope the layers of protective charms and veils of spells I took years to weave will protect me from the foul horror I’m about to conjure. If not, at least tearing you apart and devouring your pieces will give mommy time to escape, my pet.”
    She reached and patted the rodent, motionless in ignorant bliss nearby, but not too near her odious feet. She pinched and chewed a flea who dared to jump on her.
    “No self-doubt now. I’m committed to this. I’m confident I can control the thing, but sometimes nightmares come from the vat surprising even me.”
    A nervous chuckle suggested some doubt. Into the cauldron went unspeakable things, powders of beings long dead, rare creatures’ dried body parts, and all in a base of stump hole water still wriggling with mosquito larvae. The blood curdled in the acidic brew as the mixture bubbled over the fire and condensed into a tar-like state. Earwig spoke an incantation from the crinkled skin book. The foul potion gurgled, glowed amber to red, but before the creature formed from the smoke, the substance settled back in the pot.
    “What’ve I done incorrectly? I know how to summon spirits, I’ve conjured before.”
    Though drained, rage recharged her.
    “What’s wrong?”
    She retraced the exhortation, but the chant was perfect. She shrieked.
    “This summons requires five hairs plucked from the living victim. Without the hairs, the demon has nothing on which to form. I forgot to extract Saxthor’s hairs in my haste to get back here. I’ll have to return to the palace tomorrow.”
    The witch scratched at a mole on her face and tore out a clump of wiry, curled hairs in the process. She winced and flicked the hairs and chunk of mole into the fire.
    “I wouldn’t want those to land in the cauldron.”
    She pressed her finger to the red bleeding growth and sucked the finger.
    *
    Minnabec sulked in his bedchamber when a shriek pierced the night and he scurried to the window. He beheld the luminescent green light coming from the back tower’s uppermost window slit.
    “She’ll need a relative’s blood once more. Something’s gone wrong; she’ll be stalking me