The Legend of Vanx Malic: Book 02 - Dragon Isle Read Online Free Page B

had ever seen. “In fact,” the Zythian continued after plucking a crimson morsel from the platter at the table and crunching it, shell and all, with his pearly teeth, “if Vanx wanted you all to just vanish from existence it would have already transpired.”
    “Ah, mighty Dragon Bait himself, and before the sun’s fully set, no less!” Hannalee snarled as she approached the table. “You’ll have to forgive these lumps, Zeezle, they’ve been tiltin’ the stout stuff all afternoon while waiting on you!”
    Sir Earlin was glaring at Zeezle with his hand gripping white-knuckled on his sword hilt. A threat to the Prince of Parydon, even the subtly suggested one that had been spoken, was enough for him to bloody his steel over. Only Prince Russet’s hand, forcing his arm still, had kept the knight’s blade from sliding free of its sheath. None of this was lost on Zeezle, but it didn’t seem to faze or frighten him in the least.
    “Vanx is most likely tossing tearblooms to Nepton to honor his Da.” Zeezle pulled a chair away from another table, one that was occupied by a pair of ancient-looking seamen. Neither of them met Zeezle’s hard, ochre eyes. He sat in the chair backward, his long legs splayed wide around its back as he faced them.
    “That or he’s in the Shrine Garden. I doubt very seriously he’s trudging up the road to his ghostly hut in Malic. It’s about as boring a place as ever existed.”
    “You must be Zeezle Croyle?” Trevin ventured. The sparkly glittering of Zeezle’s gaudy jacket was distracting. It was hard not to stare at the fascinating prismatic sensation it created.
    “You’re the loyal one, and you?” Zeezle indicated Trevin and then Darbon, with a nod of his head. His voice broke the trance into which his wardrobe had drawn them. “You spoke up for Vanx. So it’s the two of you I’ll ask why I was sent for.” Zeezle looked over his shoulder as if suddenly remembering something. He motioned for a young preteen boy who had been peeking in the doorway to come over. “You,” Zeezle spoke to Prince Russet with only a slight smirk for Sir Earlin on his face. “You owe this boy some coins, I think.” Then dismissing the Crown Prince as if he were a beggar, Zeezle Croyle returned his gaze to Trevin and waited for an answer.

    In the Shrine Garden, Vanx sought a state of peace and called out to the Goddess. The tears he cried earlier, after tossing the wreath into the sea, had dried on his cheeks and he could still feel them there. He was pleased to hear the sound of the crickets brushing through the grass, and the faint ruffle of a nearby owl’s feathers rustling as it preened itself with its beak. The numbing of his senses that occurred while he’d been at sea was gone. When he looked into the sky he found that he could still see the love of his mother’s eyes twinkling in the faint stars. The scent of each particular bloom in the Shrine Garden found his nose, and he was so reassured by his emotions that he found he didn’t need to seek advice or ask the Goddess for direction.
    He was following his heart, and she had already blessed him with plenty.



It’d be wiser to jump ship
    than to pull him from the helm.
    A witch’s get, he knows the deep
    don’t cross Captain Saint Elm.
    – Saint Elm’s Deep

T he voyage to Dragon Isle passed swiftly. Captain Willington used a variation of the wind summoning spell that Vanx had used to blow away Coll’s poisonous fog, and kept their sails full the entire way. When Vanx asked him about the added potency his casting blew forth, the captain somberly chuckled. “A day of a captain’s life is worth thrice, if not more, than a day of a regular man’s, but a few days off the end of either is worth far less than a day of a young girl’s life every time.”
    Vanx spent the morning of the first day of the voyage reminiscing with Zeezle, but after a few hours of exchanging stories, they ran out of things to say. Thirty-plus years of