Free The Dragon of Avalon by T. A. Barron

vowed, "No more of that for me! I'll fight when necessary, and eat when hungry. But I won't chase someone just for the fun of it. Not even a bothersome little locust."
    With that, he nodded his head at the rusty grasses and flew off. Weaving between the birches and elms, he spotted a pair of large, oblong boulders that he'd never noticed before. He flew closer, curious about the strange crackling sound that seemed to come from the stones themselves. As he approached, he saw flickers of eerie green light shimmering along the sides of the boulders.
    Flames! Between the stones, a circle of green flames danced enticingly. As Basil studied the strange green fire, its light reflected in his eyes, merging with the remarkably similar light that already glowed there.
    Unsure why, he felt drawn to this green fire that crackled so vigorously. Although he couldn't see any fuel burning or smell any smoke at all, he felt no fear. Instead, he felt a strange kind of kinship to those flames. And a comforting warmth that penetrated deeper than the heat of a normal fire. Slowly, he flew nearer, entranced by this amazing discovery.
    "Hold it, greenie."
    Basil stopped in midair, and turned toward the gruff, baritone voice. It had come from somewhere on the ground in front of the flames. But nobody was there, not even a caterpillar: just a scattering of golden grass, a moldberry shrub (whose fruit, he'd learned, was not the best eating), and a slim, yellow-petaled flower. Turning back to the alluring flames, he continued to fly closer—when the voice spoke again.
    "I said hold it, if you'd like to live another day."
    The yellow flower! Its face had turned toward him, following his flight. Swooping down, Basil peered at it. What he saw made him curl his tail in amazement. In the midst of the petals sat a round amber eye!
    The eye blinked. "What are you staring at, greenie? Never seen a flower before?"
    "Not, um . . . like you." Cautiously, he flew a bit closer. "And until now, I'd never heard one, either."
    "Honestly?" The flower shook its head, making the slender leaves on its stem tremble in unison. "You must live a sheltered life."
    Basil didn't respond.
    "So then, greenie, are you thinking of flying into that?" The flower bent toward the fire, then snapped back upright. "If so, better think again."
    "Why?"
    The flower's eye widened until it reached the encircling petals. "You really don't know?" Shaking its stem and leaves in dismay, it declared, "Lucky for you, then, I planted myself here last spring."
    "Why?" he repeated, hovering directly above the amber eye. "What's so wrong with those flames?"
    "Nothing at all," drawled the flower. "Unless you get too close." Gazing straight into Basil's skeptical face, it blurted, "That's a portal, greenie! A pathway to other places—the seven root-realms, the hidden lands inside the trunk, maybe even the starward realms."
    Crinkling his long nose in disbelief, Basil glanced at the flames. As he watched them crackle so invitingly, his skepticism began to soften. Travel , he thought. To other realms! This could be my chance.
    Still not sure whether to believe any of this, he said, "That doesn't sound so bad. Why did you say I wouldn't live another day?"
    The flower's ring of petals drooped. "For somebody so small, you can be a huge idiot! That fire is élano, the very essence of the Great Tree—and the strongest magic in all of Avalon."
    Cocking his head toward the flames, Basil asked, "So? What's that got to do with living or dying?"
    Quaking as if caught in a sudden storm, the flower replied, "Because those flames transport you by magically dissembling you—pulling you completely apart—and then reassembling you when you arrive." Its gruff voice lowered. “ If you arrive."
    "What do you mean, if? "
    "Put it this way, greenie. Unless you concentrate clearly on exactly where you want to go, your pieces go wherever the portal decides! I saw one lucky traveler, a goblin, come out of this portal just