Thistle felt self-conscious, the whole family watched her carefully reading the formula.
Satin and Drayce opened the locked doors holding the secret herbs and ingredients, handing them to Artemis, who lined them up for Thistle.
Frowning, Thistle asked Drayce, “Does the medicine woman or priestess recite a magic spell or incantation over the potion?”
Drayce paused before speaking, his eyebrows knit. “I’m not sure actually. I don’t think any of us have actually watched her perform her magic.” He looked to other family members for confirmation.
His father, brother, and sisters shook their heads, shrugging their shoulders.
Sighing loudly, Thistle looked at the small vials and bottles. “Well, I guess I need to trust that I’ll know what to do.”
She grabbed a bowl and pestle, grinding powders, herbs, and liquid to form a green essence. She stared at the goo for a moment hoping inspiration would inspire her next actions. Instead, she found her face being slimed by a long, drippy tongue.
“Ewwww! Jade, what the fuck!” She swiped the back of her hand over her face and bared shoulder, wiping away the sticky saliva from the dragon.
Before she could finish cleaning the remnants off her skin, a searing burn permeated the whole of her backside, accompanied by the cracking slaps of Artemis’s huge hand onto the pant covered rump.
“You’re not allowed to swear like that, girl!”
“I know. I’m sorry, but did you see what she did?” Her face still felt grimy from the spittle, and she brushed her hand over her face doing her best to clean it.
“I did, she likes you.” Turning toward the beast, her Daddy pet the nose of the green dragon. “It doesn’t require that kind of reactions, right, Jade?” The green beast continued to nudge Artemis, obviously determined that he would kiss Thistle. Laughing, he said to Jade, “Girl, Thistle doesn’t want your sloppy kisses, you’ll have to stop.”
But Jade wasn’t that easily distracted, and with the height and weight, no one could stop her unless they were to grab a dragon quirt and they didn’t want to do that for a sign of affection. Usually, the sloppy kisses were readily accepted by warlords and trainers.
Jade licked Thistle’s face again, and this time she looked up at the dragon’s, the golden eyes searching her own, the warm, humid breath misting over her, covering the remnants of her previous licks.
“Hey, Jade. What’s up?” Thistle ran her hand over the beast’s clammy scaly skin, rubbing between her eyes, watching the lazy blink of the dragon’s eyes.
“Oh, Thistle.” Satin touched Thistle’s shoulder, her hand feeling warm on the bared shoulder, exposed to the cool night air.
“What?”
“Jade…well, she might be trying to tell you…and us something.”
Blinking at her sister she tried to comprehend what Satin was inferring. It was then that the revelation dawned on her, after all this time of praying and wishing, did Jade just reveal the secret? Did the beast notice a gifting in Thistle that none of the others knew about?
“Do you think…could she have just revealed my gifting, transferring the magical powers required to do…whatever it is I’m going to do?” Reaching up she stroked Jade’s neck, and with tears of relief and gratitude, she choked back a sob whispering to the dragon.
“Thank you, Jade. I’ll be forever indebted to you.” It was more than being noticed; it was more than a transference of magic or power. It felt like she mattered and counted in a family with so much power and talent. It was the accomplishment of knowing that she wouldn’t be forgotten or left out.
“Well, babygirl, let’s see if you can make that salve now. I think Jade’s timing is part of the epiphany.”
Pulling in a shaky breath, she closed her eyes, focusing on the salve, watching in her mind’s eye the aura swirling above the pot, the green, and white mist, turning yellow with blue sparks, the colors churning through the mist.
And then with no forewarning, whispering in a strange tongue filled her being, almost amidst a whirring and rushing of many waters, the crooning seemed to take on a conjuring of sorts. Thistle wondered if the voices were inside her head or could be heard by the others.
It was then that Thistle realized that the voice wasn’t from an outside source but an internal eruption from her. She was speaking in another language, singing and speaking a melodious mantra and chorus. A mystical dragon rose from the mist in her imagination, flying above everyone in the barn, breathing fire and keening loudly before the large beast vaporized into the swirling fog, shrinking and melding with the magic whirling and twirling until it all disappeared within the bowl. The dragon, mist, the swirly colors, the music, the roaring of the dragon, wind, and water—all of it merging as one in the mortar and pestle.
Instantly the barn became silent, the bowl stilled, and the sound of many waters and rushing winds ceased. The blood pumped furiously in her ears, her heart racing, breaths rapid.
Thistle opened her eyes, her hand pressed against her heart and breathlessly she said, “Did you all see that? Did you see what happened?”
Before anyone could answer, Jade, lifted her green head and roared, breathing fire, leaving everyone uncharred, and yet with great deliberateness, the beast spewed forth a small flame engulfing the mortar and salve.
“Whoa!” Thistle looked up into Artemis’s obsidian eyes, seeking his approval and, more importantly, his wisdom and protection in these uncharted waters.
Nodding his head, his dark eyes widened just a bit. “Yeah, that’s impressive. It would seem something must have happened with the salve.” He touched the cream, tasting it. “We saw nothing while your eyes were closed, Thistle. We only heard you chanting and singing. What were you saying? Is that a language from Zelora?”
“I don’t know…I’ve never heard that language before. I didn’t even know it was me for a while. So none of you knew what I was saying?”
They all shook their heads at her, their eyes wide with wonder and disbelief.
Still, in awe of what had just occurred, she breathlessly whispered, “I saw a magical dragon swirling within a mist that was yellow, white and blue along with the roaring of wind and water. And then it all disappeared into the mixture in the bowl.”
“Well, babygirl, I think you’re the new Priestess of Trexotera, and you’ve made your first batch of dragon salve—you’ll save thousands and thousands of dragons and warlords during The Battle of the Bloodthirsty.”
“Do you think that’s what just happened?” Thistle felt like pinching herself. Could it be as simple as this? She’d been praying and hoping for it and expected more bells and whistles, flashing lights and fanfare.
“When I was gifted as a warlord and commander, I was sitting in the window watching the dragons in the paddock when Azure came up to me, licking my skin. It was pretty easy and happened suddenly. Jade licked you the way Azure did me. Don’t be surprised if you see evidence beyond the Grokiorica cream. But even if all that happens is this magical salve, it would be amazing. The work and time spent ordering and waiting for this would dissolve with having a Priestess on our property.” Satin threw her arms around Thistle, hugging her tightly.
“Maybe I wasn’t forgotten after all.”
“You’ll never be forgotten as long as you have Daddy.”
Artemis quickly kissed her and then briskly walked away toward Onyx, his black dragon. “Burn!”
As soon as the command had been issued, everyone in the barn shouted, rushing forward, hoping to delay the inevitable.
Onyx obediently obeyed the directive of his Master, breathing a stream of fire onto Artemis’s forearm.
He quickly pulled his arm out of danger, not wanting it to be maimed, but in that short time, the skin bubbled, and the scent of burning flesh and hair filled Thistle’s nostrils.
She fought the urge to vomit, and only marginally kept herself from gagging.
It was Drayce who made quick work of the short distance to the table, snatching the bowl of Grokiorica and hastily slathered the salve onto his arm.
Thistle knew she wasn’t the only one in the room holding their breath waiting to see if she’d been successful with the cream.
The light green concoction foamed and bubbled on his arm, covering the burn completely. Artemis blurred with the tears filling her eyes, the sting in her nose cautioning her that she would be crossing over into sobbing soon.
How could he do this to himself? Did he trust in my abilities or the magic that deeply?
She wanted to rail at him, punching his arm, screaming that he was an idiot. He purposefully burned his arm, right before the battle. Didn’t he know that dreams didn’t happen to her? Hadn’t she conveyed to him enough times that she was routinely overlooked and forgotten? Obviously, she hadn’t discussed it in depth enough to keep him from acting impulsively, and now he’d be scarred and possibly maimed from his dragon, wanting to…what…boost her self-esteem?
Stupid man!
The thin cream had disappeared into his skin…as did the burns. No blisters, no redness, no blood…just soft, normal skin.
She had no doubt that her face was etched with shock, she could barely speak. “What…where did it…it’s gone!”
“Yes, babygirl, it’s gone. Your Grokiorica did this…are you worried about not having a gift, my little priestess?” Tucking her into his side, he enveloped her tightly, kissing the top of her head.
“Priestess?” She arched her back looking up into his dark eyes now twinkling with mirth.
“Yes, that’s what you are now. The Quinns’ Royal Priestess. You’ll save hundreds and hundreds of warlords, trainers, and soldiers injured during battle.” He affectionately jostled her in his arms before continuing. “Guess you won’t be sitting around doing nothing while I’m gone, huh?”
Her face warmed with her blush. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be making Grokiorica every day.”
Drayce scooped out the thick cream, smiling broadly at everyone. “It feels good having a priestess in our presence; my father will be so pleased. Congratulations—both of you.” He shook both Artemis and Thistle’s hands. “Come on, let’s tell the family.”