Circles of Seven Read Online Free Page A

she dropped below the mist, she stretched her wings again and caught the air, slowing her descent. Between her and the ground, two scarlet orbs glided through the air in a lazy circle, Clefspeare’s eyes looking up at her. The veiled moon barely revealed his enormous silhouette trailing his ruby headlights.
    Bonnie dropped quickly to join him, mimicking his circular pattern, and they approached a grass-domed hilltop. She landed near the edge of the field just a second or two after Clefspeare, running as her feet settled on the ground. Ankle-high grass covered the expansive summit, bordered by steep drop-offs and a dense forest.
    The dragon turned his head in all directions, twisting his neck and sniffing the cool, damp air. His voice stayed low, a growling whisper. “Danger is near.” He lumbered to the trees, and Bonnie followed. “Stay in the forest while I keep watch. Although we are considerably ahead of schedule, Billy may arrive soon. He is quite aware of my habit of being early.”
    Clefspeare continued sniffing the air. Bonnie tried to detect any unusual odors, but she noticed only a tinge of smoke from a distant wood fire. Maybe the dragon’s sense of smell was more acute than hers. She whispered her question. “Do you smell something?”
    “Flowers,” he replied in a low rumble. “Yet I saw no gardens or wildflowers nearby. It is a familiar odor, but the memory is a distant one from centuries long past.”
    Bonnie sniffed again. This time a slight aroma drifted by, the buttery sweetness of some kind of blossom, maybe gardenia.
    A voice called from the opposite side of the clearing. “Hail, Clefspeare!”
    Clefspeare’s neck straightened, and his ears twitched. “Who calls for Clefspeare? Friend or foe? Show yourself.”
    A figure appeared in the clearing, striding quickly forward and offering a formal bow. “I am Markus, servant and apprentice to Sir Patrick, steward of the Circle of Knights. I have come as his herald to welcome you and conduct you and the initiate’s colleague to his side.”
    Clefspeare snorted a plume of sparks. “The initiate was to greet us personally, along with his mentor.”
    Bonnie kept her eye on the young man, but she couldn’t stifle the need to yawn. The aroma of gardenias filled the air—sweet, intoxicating. A shadow of sleepiness filtered into her mind, and her vision blurred as she tried to refocus on Markus. He bowed again. “We have detected a hole in our security, so I have come to warn you and escort the girl to safety.”
    “But that was not the plan,” Clefspeare argued. “There is danger afoot, and Billy and his teacher must not face it without me.”
    Markus turned his head from side to side. “There is no time to fret about plans gone awry, Great Dragon. If you sense danger, then I suggest we be off at once. Morgan would have the girl in her clutches, and we must keep the two of them apart at all costs.”
    Clefspeare took in a deep breath. His voice slowed, growing labored. “Yes. . . . Danger is . . . very close. A s-s-sinister . . . presence.” The dragon’s head swayed, and his body tipped to one side. As he began to topple, he turned to Bonnie, his voice reviving in one desperate call. “Fly, lass! Find Hartanna!” With a tremendous thud, Clefspeare fell to the ground.
    Bonnie unfurled her wings, but they drooped to the grass, heavy and limp. She could barely raise them above the level of her dizzied head. She tried to jump, but her legs collapsed. A curtain of black closed across her eyes, and she dropped to the grass. A strong hand gripped her wrist and pulled. She fluttered her eyes open and caught a glimpse of Markus’s face and two hooded figures running toward them with swords in hand. As she struggled to get up, a stream of fire blazed behind Markus, but her arms and legs fell numb, and her mind faded into darkness.
    Billy dropped from the mansion roof like a sack of rocks, his arms and legs flailing. He steadied himself just in