Tales of the Dragon's Bard, Volume 1: Eventide Read Online Free

practically no avoiding it, as anyone in the town can pretty well attest, including me.”
    “And this fellow here—this Lord Gallivant?” Edvard asked, gesturing toward the gaunt and grizzled man who sat muttering to himself near the fire. His clothing was faded and nearly threadbare; he wore a military cape that looked older than the Epic War itself.
    Jarod shrugged. “Don’t know . . . nobody knows. He’s been here as long as I can remember.”
    “So what about your story, eh?” the Dragon’s Bard asked.
    “Don’t have one,” Jarod answered with a deep-felt sigh.
    Abel stopped scribbling at once, glancing up questioningly.
    “Then we shall write you one,” the Dragon’s Bard offered cheerfully. “No! Better still, we shall help you to live one! Tell me, are there any women in your life?”
    Jarod eyed him with suspicion. “Why do you ask?”
    The Dragon’s Bard smiled. “Because every young man’s great story begins with a woman!”

• Chapter 2 •
    Wishers of the Well
     
    Caprice Morgan leaned her seventeen-year-old face over the edge of the wishing well, her elbows resting on the cool stone edge and her elegant hands, embarrassingly calloused, cupping her small chin and smooth—if smudged—cheeks. Her carefully combed auburn hair fell around her face. Her wide green eyes gazed down the circular shaft of the well, trying to see something of her own future, though she knew that even if the well were working properly, it was not a scrying pool and could not possibly know her future. Still, she leaned against the edge and peered into it.
    Her future, if the well were to be believed, was dark.
    The village had been founded largely around the Inn, but the Inn had come into existence to serve the travelers who for ages untold had come to the wishing well. The well, in use since the time of legends, sat in the woods northwest of the town, snugly surrounded by the Norest Forest near the foot of Mount Dervin, the highest point in three counties. For centuries the well had been tended by the wish-women—heiresses to enchantment, blessed with knowledge of wishcraft—who kept the well supplied from the magic of the surrounding woods. Dwarves, elves, humans, and others of all ranks and classes would make their way to the well from their distant homes to make wishes come true. The Griffon’s Tale Inn was built to serve those pilgrims, and the town grew up around the Inn.
    This great, long, and profitable tradition kept the town safe and secure—until a wizard came one day with a wish that was too big for the well to grant. Brenna Morgan, the High Wish-Woman at the time, failed to please the wizard or fulfill his terrible wish. In dreadful anger, the wizard broke the wishes of the well with a curse that would last until the sundial in Charter Square heralded both sunrise and sunset at the same time.
    It was a blow to the economy of the village but a disastrous tragedy for Meryl Morgan and his three daughters. The breaking of the well also broke Brenna’s magical ability and her health. She faded away, this wish-woman who had tended the well since long before her wedding to Meryl, and he was left with his three daughters to struggle on without her. Their girls—Sobrina, Caprice, and Melodi—were natural talents at gathering wishes, as their mother had been, but none of them had the opportunity or the wealth to be properly trained in wishcraft at the Enchanting Academy in Mordale. So each gathered what meager wishes she could to keep the well going.
    But the wishes that were now granted from the well always had something peculiarly wrong with them. That they would grant the desires of the wisher was true, but the boon from the well always came in unpredictable and occasionally disastrous ways. One man wished for untold wealth—only to have a sum appear that was too small to mention. A woman asked for renowned beauty—only to find herself the talk of all the Ogre lands. One very unfortunate young lady