Page 4

4

HAILEY

I bit back a laugh, shaking my head at Luke's adorably wide-eyed indignation when recounting his encounter with Janice moments ago.

"I can't believe he thought Janice was anything other than her usual charming self," Kendra snickered, settling back into the plush armchair with her tea. "I mean, we JUST talked to her what, ten minutes ago? And she was just…Janice."

Adalinda's lips twitched, her elegant fingers idly stroking Flint's iridescent scales as he curled up in her lap like an oversized housecat. "Indeed. I've encountered many supernatural entities over the millennia, but none quite as terrifying as a hunter."

I allowed myself another moment of mirth, savoring the warmth of easy camaraderie, before sobering. As amusing as Luke's paranoia was, we had more pressing matters at hand.

I leaned forward to meet Adalinda's gaze, "Any leads on tracking down those murder daggers?"

The Dragon Queen's eyes sharpened, a faint shimmer of opalescent scales brushing her temples as she focused inward.

"There is... something. The faintest echo of an ancient magic, a residual energy that feels distinctly like Kit's divine signature."

I straightened, a tingle of anticipation skittering down my spine. "Divine signature? What does that mean, exactly?"

Adalinda steepled her fingers, her voice taking on a resonant, almost hypnotic quality as she expanded, "Each deity carries a unique magical imprint, an ineffable essence that permeates any objects or beings they imbue with their power. In this case, I sense echoes of Kit's godly magic woven into the sheaths."

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as if tasting the air for notes of vintage ambrosia.

"It's faint, eroded by the relentless passage of time, but unmistakable."

Kendra and I exchanged a look, our eyes widening at the implications. If Adalinda could sense Kit's magic, even across vast distances and millennia, then maybe...

"Can you use that essence to track the daggers? Like a magical bloodhound, except with more scales and less slobber?" I asked, hope warring with trepidation in my gut.

The Dragon Queen nodded slowly, her gaze distant as she prodded at the gossamer threads of divine energy only she could perceive. "I believe so. It will require focus and precision, but if I can lock onto Kit's unique signature, I should be able to follow it to the daggers' current location."

Determination surged through me, chasing away the lingering wisps of humor. We had a lead. An actual, tangible thread to follow, literally and metaphysically. I jumped to my feet, my fingers already twitching for the sleek curves of my laptop. "Let me see what I can dig up on likely places an ancient Aztec god might stash his magical cutlery."

As Kendra and Adalinda murmured in low tones, I threw myself into research mode. The familiar blue glow of the screen embraced me like an old friend as I navigated the rabbit holes of search results and obscure mythology forums.

Two hours, three mugs of blood, and a minor hand cramp later, I surfaced triumphant. "I think I found something!" I called out. "There's a long-abandoned temple complex in the Yucatan peninsula that was once a major center for Quetzalcoatl worship. It's remote, steeped in legends of dragon magic and blood rituals, and has a cryptic reference to 'the vault of the sky serpent' buried in its catacombs."

I turned the screen so the others could see the grainy satellite images of vine-choked limestone ruins nestled in the emerald sea of the jungle. Adalinda leaned in, her eyes flickering with ancient recognition. "Yes... I can feel it. That place is drenched in Kit's energy, even through your technological scrying. The original enchantments have faded, but the stones still echo with the dragons' bygone roars."

She placed a hand on the screen, her fingers splayed across the pixelated ruinscape. A shudder rippled through her, making the air hum with released power. Flint chirped anxiously, his tail lashing as he sensed the magical currents swirling around Adalinda.

After a long, crackling moment, Adalinda withdrew her hand, flexing her fingers as if to shake off the clinging tendrils of the past. "I have it," she declared. "The temple's energetic coordinates are locked within my mind. I can guide us there."

Kendra nodded briskly, already shrugging off her cardigan in preparation for spellcasting. "Right then. Give me a few to gather some supplies. We'll want to be prepared for anything."

She shot me a wry look, no doubt remembering the many, many times we’d landed ourselves in dicey situations. "Especially if we're heading into the eldritch ruins of a deity whose followers were fond of jaguar warriors and ritual bloodletting."

"Har-har," I deadpanned, even as a frisson of nervous energy skittered through my veins. Kendra wasn't wrong. We were about to step into the crumbling remnants of an ancient mystery, guided only by magical breadcrumbs and the desperate need for answers.

But what choice did we have? The clock was ticking, the killer was still out there, and those daggers were our only solid lead. Plus, I'd be lying if I claimed my thirst for adventure hadn't been parched lately.

I clapped my hands together, both to shake off my spiraling thoughts and to signal a transition. "All right ladies, let's get cracking. With any luck, this time tomorrow we'll be sipping margaritas on a sunny Yucatan beach, murder daggers in hand."

Kendra snorted. "More like hacking our way through a snake-infested jungle with our wands and wits, but sure. Focus on those margaritas."

I flashed her a grin, even as my mind churned with the possibilities and pitfalls that lay ahead. Regardless of the risks, we were doing this. Diving headfirst into the deadly and divine, with nothing but our magic and moxie to light the way.