Broken Dragon (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

of white fuzz fanned across the greenhouse, like a blizzard of dandelion dander, filling the air above the rows of limp flowers.
    Liz, now dry and unshrouded in goo or stems, let out her breath. She watched the downy fibers dance in the air, kicked around by the ventilation system Rueben had left running. Next to her, a tiny white filament alighted on the bright red bract of a slumped poinsettia and melted into a speck of oily residue. A moment later the speck disappeared, absorbed into the plant. The withered red leaf lengthened and filled, firmed up and stood, followed by its neighbors, jerkily reaching toward the greenhouse roof, like a stop-motion film showing the miracle of nature.
    More filaments landed. The greenhouse filled with a leafy rustling noise, as the resurrected poinsettias stood up, bright and alive.
    Liz smiled, hopped up and down to get her pants legs to fall, and slipped on her socks and shoes. She sauntered down the center row of the greenhouse, looking left and right, watching the flowers come back to life. As she approached the end of the row, she sensed a breeze, different and stronger than the air flowing from the ventilation system. Still watching the recovering plants, she dismissed it, thinking she must be getting closer to a vent. She did not bother looking down the aisle.
    An electrical sizzle and the smell of ozone drew her attention.
    At the end of the aisle, six feet ahead, stood a black gash floating in the air, as if the world were a balloon and someone had ripped a hole in it. A gust of wind pulled at Liz, drawing her toward the void. She instinctively leaned away from it and placed a foot against one of the pallets under the poinsettias. The vacuum ahead grew more insistent, more powerful, and she turned away to run. Behind her, she saw a translucent blue wall that sloped upward. She tracked it across the ceiling, until she once again faced the blackness at the end of the aisle. She was encased in a sphere, a blue bubble of static.
    On the verge of tumbling forward, Liz extended her arm to a thin pillar that ran up to the ceiling, but, as she was about to wrap her hand around it, she realized her hand was gone. A luminous mist trailed away from the end of her arm, where her hand should have been, and flowed into the black hole ahead. Within seconds her arm was gone. She strained and twisted her head to the side, as her shoulder melted into mist. Shaking her head, she looked down. Her torso disintegrated into a cloud of ambient green and seeped away.
    “It’s time to come home,” a baritone voice echoed from the blackness.
    It was the last thing she heard before her head dissolved.

CHAPTER 4
     
     
    The black vapor of Juaquin Prado’s infectious soul swirled above her face. Through it, Mara could see the dragon flying into the low-slung clouds, retreating from the threat, circling above the roof of Mason Fix-It. In the distance, monotone dead voices chanted her name, calling her to join them. Then the black morass above flooded her eyes, blinding her, sending shocks of pain radiating through her head. Mara grabbed her temples and screamed.
    She sat up in bed with a start. Her eyes snapped open. Sitting next to her on the bed was a little girl in a T-shirt and bright green sweatpants, who, for a split second, Mara didn’t recognize.
    “You made me miss trick-or-treat,” Hannah said without preamble.
    Mara rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to slow her heartbeat. “What?”
    “I didn’t get no costume or candy. Now Nana says turkey will have to be my treat, and my daddy says it’s too late to go trick-or-treating ’cause all the candy has been given away.” She mustered a pout while glaring at Mara.
    “Sweetie, give me a minute to wake up. I can’t make sense of anything you are saying.” She pointed to the chair across the room. “Can you fetch my robe? Then we’ll go down to the kitchen and sort this out, while I have a cup of coffee.”
    Hannah slid off