The Dragon Child: The Dragon Child Series, #1

By Nikita Boshoff

One day all dark

shall reach full power.

All light will fade

while the dark devours.

All shall be lost

until the child is born,

The one for whom

the Dragons mourn.

When Lucy Clare goes on a school trip to Scotland without her parents' permission, the last thing she expects to find out is that she's the key in an age-old prophecy.

The Morrigan, an ancient Celtic goddess, is coming and Lucy is the only one who can stop her from destroying the worlds.

When the Morrigan accidentally kidnaps Lucy's best friend instead, saving the multiverse becomes personal.

Lucy must embark on a journey that will bring her face to face with evil. But destiny is not a paved path and Lucy must fight through a world of darkness, magic and old gods before she can rise as the Dragon Child

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sera Blue
• Release date: Jul 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9780639818221

Book preview

pROLOGUE

Nobody dared leave their beds when midnight struck that Halloween many years ago.

They remained huddled in the comfort of their homes, ignoring the howls of wolves that filled the night. They ignored the screams. They ignored the building blizzard, out of place for that time of the year. As a result, nobody saw the young couple running through the streets. Nor did they see the child that the woman carried in her arms.

Together the small family hurtled across the cobblestones. Torrents of snow beat against them, pulling them back. From their distance, they could see the surface of Loch Ness begin to freeze over. With urgency and desperation etched into their faces, they never halted in their rush towards the water. Before the sheet of ice sealed the Loch away. Before it was too late.

A wolf, black and bristled with porcupine quills, burst out from an alleyway, blocking the path to the Loch. Green saliva dripped from its hungry jaws, as it growled at them.

The man stepped forward, while his wife held the child close to her chest. In one hand she held a dagger that’s glint matched the lethal fury in her eyes. Her husband’s hands began to glow a crimson red as he whispered an incantation under his breath. The wolf leapt towards him, with its teeth bared.

As the wolf’s teeth were a hair’s breadth from the man’s neck, he swung his hands in a crescent above his head and the wolf was thrown like a brick to the side. It lay unmoving.

But his effort did not matter. More demonic beasts scuttled and clamoured towards them, gaping their poisonous, hungry maws.

We will never make it, he said, his hands casting an eerie redness over the alleyway.

The woman eyed the Loch, only a short distance away while her own hands glowed a gentle blue that spread to the daggers. We have to, she responded. She placed the child in the shadows, hiding the three-year-old from the demons as the creatures crept towards them.

In a flurry, the couple began their attack, him armed with his magic and her with her knives. The blood of the beasts soaked the streets of the Scottish village. The couple’s legs ached. Their bodies burned. But when every beast was dead, the woman collected the child and the family kept running. Only stopping to fight more of the monsters. The life of the child meant more than her or her husband’s suffering. It was a relief when they made it to the shore of the Loch Ness.

A hint of joy almost touched their faces when a great shadow passed overhead. Magnificent wings created a silhouette across the moon, as a sorceress fell from the sky and alighted upon the ground before them. She was the most beautiful woman that either of them had ever seen.

Cold, harsh cruelty painted her features, but even then, her features were as if an artist had sculpted them. Her skin was porcelain white as if stitched from starlight. Hair, blacker than night, hung in wild curls around her face. Yet it was the wings that were her true glory.

Each spread two metres in length and gleamed, the raven feathers catching the moonlight. She was the embodiment of Death, even in the way she carried herself, and she made it look inviting. A venomous smile played on her blood-stained lips.

You were never supposed to find us, the husband said, no fear in his face. Only fury.

The veils are thin on Samhain, the sorceress replied, her voice lilting, lyrical and poisonous.

Leave us alone, the wife demanded, pushing the child behind her like a lioness ready to tear out the throat of anyone who harmed her cub.

The woman turned to her with a malignant grin. Give me the child and I will leave. I will never return to this world. I will leave you to continue whoring with my son.

The wife lifted her daggers in front of her, their blue glow emanating brighter than before. Never, Morrigan.

The corner of the Morrigan’s mouth twisted, as if she had expected that answer. As if she had wanted it. It’s a pity, was all she said. She raised one hand above her head and the couple both dropped to their knees, clutching their heads in agony. Their child watched them, fearful and confused as the Morrigan strode towards her.

Come to me, child, the Morrigan hissed, Come and be mine.

The child blinked at the monster sauntering towards her, watching the outstretched porcelain hand and the pointed, black fingernails. Her father and mother tried to crawl towards her, but they were too twisted in agony to reach her.

She took a step back, but the Morrigan’s hand was already on her sleeve. Whispers escaped the Morrigan’s lips and those words would soon take the child away.

All of a sudden, ice from the Loch shattered, spraying all around them. A beast from the Loch burst from the water and bit into the Morrigan’s outspread wing. She screamed and, in her pain, she released the spell cast on the couple.

Without a second thought, the wife bolted for her daughter and pulled her from the Morrigan’s clutches. Her husband grabbed the Morrigan by the lapels of her dress.

We have to send her back, he cried to his wife and his wife gave him a frightened look.

That means you will have to seal the door from the other side. I can’t allow you to do that.

He looked at his wife, his face carved in misery. While the monster is here, the Morrigan is weaker. It is our only chance.

The Morrigan howled in agony as the beast’s teeth tore into the tendons of her wings. Her grin turned to a sneer and she spat in the face of her son.

You don’t have the guts, she hissed at him.

The husband ignored her. He began to chant the words of a dead, forgotten language. As he spoke scarlet enveloped him and power began to build. Snow melted before it touched him. His wife released their daughter and placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder.

Blue light danced upon her skin and she joined him in chanting the words. Their daughter watched them. Saying nothing.

The Morrigan began to scream. You bastard! I will take away the magic I gave you at birth. I will make you suffer for eternity! Give the child to me! She belongs to me!

The husband continued chanting. His own eyes glowing red, while his wife’s glowed blue. Their light ebbed towards the Morrigan as if she was feeding on it. As they chanted, their bodies began to dip and their legs shook while the Morrigan only grew stronger.

The child watched, noticing for the first time that there was no colour in the Morrigan’s eyes. It was as if the pupil had been stretched to cover the iris and the white. Each pit of her eye was filled with only molten void. While the child watched her parents’ strain, tears poured down her face. The world was filled with only screams and snow.

In a flash, the man and the Morrigan vanished. In their place was only the Morrigan’s black blood and a few raven feathers. The wife pulled her daughter into her arms and placed one of her daggers onto the girl’s tiny open palm. She turned to the Loch Ness monster.

Protect her as you were born to do, she said before she collapsed to the ground.

The child watched her fallen mother, crying silently, until the Loch Ness monster bore down, collected her in its mouth, and took her into the water.

Chapter 1

RUNAWAY

It was a beautiful spring morning when snow began to tumble down from the sky.

Although it was early, gilded sunlight already burned the Durban sea. Lucy Clare watched the unnatural pace at which the storm clouds took over the horizon. Snowfall grew heavier until the black streets were tainted white.

It had to be global warming, Lucy thought. No other catastrophe could explain the peculiar weather of late.

It was also the least of Lucy’s concerns. In a few minutes, her best friend would arrive to pick her up and she had to escape the house before her mother caught her. Celia would not approve.

Celia could not know what all of those permission slips and documents had entailed, that she had signed without giving a second glance. Celia would never let her leave.

Lucy made her way to her bag, still in her socks so that the wooden boards didn’t creak as she walked across them. She scowled at herself in the mirror, at the bushy, ginger hair and middle that was a bit too wide, before slipping the last few books on her shelf into her bag. Every book in the meagre room had been packed.

Finally, she took the ornate dagger from her nightstand. Blue jewels glittered across the hilt that was fashioned to look like a mermaid’s tail. It was the only connection to a lost past that Lucy had.

She often wondered why Celia let her keep it. Perhaps Celia knew this day would come. Too afraid to get it past customs, she placed it on top of the wooden nightstand. A final farewell.

When that was done, she zipped her bag closed and surveyed her plain room once more. She hoped that she would never have to return to this room again.

Without making a noise she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and made her way outside. Amy, her younger sister, snored from her room but did not stir as Lucy passed. Lucy began tiptoeing down the stairs, afraid to breathe in case Celia heard her.

Her fingertips were about to wrap around the crystal doorknob when her bag slipped from her shoulder and the sound reverberated throughout the house. Lucy clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, hoping nobody heard her. The suburban house was silent. Until...

Lucy? Is that you? Come here this instant.

Lucy shut her eyes and slumped her shoulders. Almost...she had almost made it.

Leaving her bag behind to avoid questions, she slumped towards the kitchen, where the voice was coming from. Celia sat at the island, eating muesli. An open fashion magazine lay beside her. She watched Lucy enter through the slim, square spectacles that rested on her nose.

Lucy took a seat across from her, waiting for the bombardment that was about to come. Celia gave a heavy sigh and smoothed down her already perfect, blonde bun.

Where are you going, Lucy? Celia asked, exasperation flooding her voice.

Lucy tried to appear calm, demure even. I’m spending the night at Sameera’s house. The lie had to be good enough. There was no reason to question it. But Celia raised an eyebrow, nonetheless.

I thought I organised for you to stay at the Bothas for the next few days.

Lucy’s heart hammered inside her chest. She had to make sure that Celia didn’t decide to phone the Bothas. Everything would unravel if she did.

It’s just for tonight. I’ve already organised it with Marlene. She will fetch me from the Naidoo’s tomorrow.

Are you sure that I shouldn’t phone her. Just to make sure. Celia reached for her Armani handbag, where her bejewelled phone was sticking out at one corner.

No! Lucy jumped up and Celia glared at her, her eyes wide. I mean, no. I wouldn’t want to bother them this early in the morning.

Celia nodded, slow and deliberate, narrowing her eyes at Lucy in suspicion. You know I don’t like you spending time with that girl. That family.

Lucy’s nerves dissipated, burnt out by the jolt of anger that flashed through her veins. "What do you mean, that family?"

Celia shrugged. Don’t be like that Lucy. You know what their type is like. I would prefer you stayed away. That’s all. Nonchalant. Simple.

Lucy’s fists clenched at her sides. Perhaps I wouldn’t have to spend the night at Sameera if you and Gerry would just take me to Ireland with you.

This time anger flashed across Celia’s own face. Her hand shot out like a viper and connected with a sharp smack against Lucy’s face.

Don’t be rude to me, she spat.

As quick as the slap had been, she grabbed Lucy’s arm and with a violent tug, pulled the sleeve of her shirt up.

A brown mark decorated the pale skin. At first, it looked like a brown smudge, but after staring at it for a few moments, it appeared as if a dragon was curled around Lucy’s arm.

You know how superstitious Gerry’s family is. If they see a mark like that, they will throw us out. No more payments. No more income. It is important that Gerry remains a member of this family. Do you understand? We have discussed this before.

Lucy didn’t drop her stare from Celia. She did not falter. She only allowed the anger to continue coursing through her bloodstream, quickening her heart and setting her skin on fire.

The wind, blowing in from the kitchen window, seemed to pick up, pulling flurries of snow into the kitchen.

It’s good to know that your boyfriend is more important than your own daughter, Lucy hissed at her.

Celia’s eyes turned venomous. I have done everything to be a mother to you, Lucy. It was me who found you on that beach, abandoned, so many years ago. I took you in from the goodness of my heart. I have done everything to look after you. I have fed you. Gotten you through school. Clothed you. If I were you, I wouldn’t be such a brat.

Lucy continued clenching her fists until her nails dug into the skin. How did she explain to Celia that none of those things mattered when cruelty was fed in abundance and love was absent?

The wind in the kitchen became wilder, flinging open the kitchen cabinets. Wind tugged at Lucy’s wild hair and even pulled a few strands free from Celia’s perfect bun. Celia was unperturbed. It was only global warming...

Celia and Lucy stared at each other, the tension filling up between them like the room was flooding with acid. The only movement was the wind. Lucy thought for a moment that she would attack Celia when a hoot outside broke the tension.

I have to go, Lucy said, still not shifting her gaze.

A small furrow appeared between Celia’s brows and she said, I hate to fight with you, Lucy. We will miss you while we’re away. I hope you have a good birthday.

Lucy didn’t say anything. Still digging her nails into the skin of her palms, she turned away from Celia and made her way back to the front door.

Amy was sitting at the foot of the steps, her head in her hands. She was the mirror image of Celia from neat blonde hair to grey-green eyes. But whereas Celia was as hard as granite, Amy was soft and sweet. Lucy wondered how Amy had survived twelve years without getting her mother’s temperament.

I’m sorry she’s so hard on you, Amy said, as Lucy marched past.

It’s okay. I’m used to it, Lucy responded.

You’re coming back right? Amy asked. Hope lit up her eyes.

Lucy only hoped that she was successful in hiding her guilt. Next week she would be eighteen. She had no reason to ever return. Just look after yourself, okay?

Amy nodded. A shimmer in her eyes suggested that she was about to cry, but instead, she jumped up and threw her arms around her adopted sister.

You too, was the muffled response in Lucy’s shirt.

Another hoot broke the sisters apart.

Without a good-bye, Lucy opened the front door. Sameera was waving at her, excitement written on her face. The last of Lucy’s anger dissipated when she saw Sameera’s vibrant smile.

The girl may have been slight in stature, but her presence filled the driveway with light. Whenever Lucy saw her, she felt as if she’d been holding her breath for ages and she was finally allowed to breathe again.

One week in Scotland! Sameera declared, her honey-brown eyes sparkling, Can you believe it!

Lucy gave her a small, relieved smile in response. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe that she was finally walking away from the house that was the basis of most of her nightmares. She would never have to baulk under Gerry’s slimy gaze again or hear him pandering on about how much of a devil she was. Her heart panged a bit for Amy, but mostly it was joy. Joy and relief that she had made it.

This is for you, Sameera said, as they climbed into the car.

Lucy took the item from her friend. It was small and insignificant, but to Lucy, it meant the world. Sameera gave her a knowing smile.

As they drove towards the airport, Lucy clutched the Loch Ness monster doll to her chest, relieved that her old home was growing smaller behind her but too afraid to let the doll go.

Chapter 2

STRANGER THINGS

When Lucy was eleven, Celia refused to fetch her from school because she didn’t pack the dishwasher the night before.

The instruction was simple. Maybe you’ll learn some responsibility if you find your own way home. On their way back to the school from Sameera’s netball practise, Sameera’s mother stopped her car, asked Lucy if she wanted to have dinner at their place and that she’d contact Celia to tell her where to fetch Lucy.

Lucy had never seen as many books in one place as she did at the Naidoo’s house. Most of the evening was spent with Mr Naidoo reading Harry Potter to his large family after dinner, including Lucy as if she was one of them. Eventually, Lucy became the one who’d read to the Naidoos. Celia only fetched her at eleven o’clock that first evening, swearing insults at the Naidoos the entire time, but Lucy and Sameera were inseparable after that night. Lucy stayed at the Naidoos whenever Celia would let her.

This was the memory that drifted through her thoughts as the Scottish highland blurred past them. The train rumbled, filling all other conversation with rattling and roaring. As with all long trips, Lucy and Sameera had spent the first few hours talking until their throats were hoarse.

They’d spent the first day in London. Lucy was taken back by the rich history that was imbued in the bricks of every building. After English, History was her favourite subject at school. She could have stayed in the city forever, but the visit was too short and they were soon on their way again. Brief stops followed in Glasgow and Edinburgh, but Ms Breytenbach urgently pushed them on.

Now, several hours had passed on the train and Lucy and Sameera found themselves subdued in silence. Even the two teachers who accompanied the small group of students, Ms Breytenbach and Mr Daniels, had fallen asleep. Lucy kept herself occupied with a book, while Sameera attempted to sketch the countryside, filling the spaces with her own imaginings of fawns and rabbits. From what Lucy had seen, Scotland was as beautiful as she had hoped.

Sunset was already beginning to dip behind the green hills when the church spires of Inverness came into view. All of the students turned their heads to admire the view of