Free Yesterday's Magic by Pamela F. Service Page A

clue how to use it. Your supposed friend Merlin was clearly too jealous of you to train a potential rival. I could teach you skills you cannot imagine, give you strength and power and beauty. Or I could crush you like useless vermin!”
    With that, she thrust a hand toward the base of the far wall, and with a frightened squeak, a rat was yanked into the air. It was the darker, male rat, and he hung suspended in the air in front of Morgan, his legs and tail flailing.
    Help!
he called into Heather’s mind, but when she jumped toward him, Morgan flicked a blast of power at her that sent her sprawling against the stone wall. Dazed, trying to shake her eyesight back into focus, Heather watched as, with a cruel smile, Morgan made a small clawed gesture toward the rat. Abruptly his writhing stopped. Instead the body crumpled in on itself. Blood, mushed flesh, and bits of fur dripped onto the floor. Finally the empty rat skin was released from the air and dropped onto the steaming puddle.
    “Don’t mistake me, Heather dear. Join me and we can work wonders. Cross me and your end will be far less merciful.”
    Sweeping from the room, Morgan slammed the door with the finality of the tomb.

E ASTWARD
    I t took a while for Welly to force his eyes open and even try admiring the view. In the distance beyond the rolling moors was the dark sweep of ocean. This did not increase his comfort. He couldn’t swim, and water in any quantity made him nervous. Though, he realized, if he fell from this height, drowning wouldn’t be the major problem.
    Talking might fix his attention elsewhere, but the wind of their passage made that difficult, and anyway, he was keeping his mouth clamped closed. The dragon’s swooping gait churned his stomach, and he didn’t think it looked good for a warrior of King Arthur’s to get airsick.
    Then all his attention was fixed on staying aboard. The dragon suddenly pulled in its wings and dropped like a stone for long moments, ignoring its passengers’ cries. Abruptly the wings snapped out again, swooping them into a smooth glide that skimmed along a few feet above the moor. A cluster of dark shapes dotting the grass suddenly scattered, bleating in panic. Without missing a beat, the dragon’s head snaked down and with perfect aim scooped up a fleeing sheep. Its bleating was silenced as fangs clamped together. Rising higher, the dragon continued its course to the coast.
    “Hey, those are some poor farmer’s sheep,” Welly called to Merlin. “We shouldn’t let the dragon do that.”
    Merlin glanced back at him. “One doesn’t ‘let’ dragons do things. They’re controlled by their instincts and their code of honor. Period.”
    “But you’re a wizard.”
    “Which is why I know not to meddle with dragons more than I have to. We’re just along for the ride, and lucky to be doing that.”
    Riding behind Welly, Troll only groaned and held on tighter. He was very aware that trolls and sheep were about the same size.
    The surf-fringed coast was close enough now to throw the sound of crashing waves into the air. Skimming toward the last cliff edge, the dragon suddenly folded its wings and glided to a smooth landing. Dropping the sheep carcass on the grass, it turned a bloody head toward them.
    “Breakfast time.”
    “It’s afternoon,” Welly objected feebly.
    “Hey, fat boy, I haven’t eaten in two thousand years. And my appetite’s a lot bigger than one sheep’s worth—so watch it.”
    “Let’s stretch our legs,” Merlin suggested pointedly. “The North Sea has shrunk a lot since the Devastation, but it’s still a demanding crossing.”
    “Yeah,” Welly muttered. “And let’s get away from the breakfast table.”
    Staggering stiffly onto the ground again, Welly stayed well back from the cliff’s edge. Staring across the gray water, he could just make out a dark line along the horizon. “Is that Europe?”
    Merlin nodded. “What’s left of it. Well, the bare bones of the land should be