Free Wyvern's Prince (The Dragons of Incendium Book 2) by Deborah Cooke

herself below the surface, then blew into the pavofel’s nose. This scarcely made the creature any happier, but it wasn’t going to drown as Venero feared he might.
    She solved problems without hesitation, and she didn’t surrender without a fight. He liked both of those traits.
    He might have felt more admiration for her in that moment, but the fabric of the dress swirled upward in the water and wrapped around him like a shroud. Venero was caught and only had glimpses of the opening at the top of the pocket. He sputtered. He thrashed. He wanted to remind Gemma that toads were not aquatic creatures, but she was busy with that stupid pavofel. Venero could feel her wrestling with it.
    He’d never wished for his DreamCasting abilities with greater vigor than in that moment, but he knew they were gone.
    Enchanted into oblivion, just like Gemma’s shape shifting powers.
    Venero choked. He struggled in a bid to get Gemma’s attention, hoping she might pull him free. The fabric caught at his legs as if it followed some instruction from Urbanus. He supposed that wasn’t out of the question. Frustration rose within him even as he fought for air. He was drowning, still enchanted as a toad, and his front leg hurt.
    Venero wasn’t going to die this way, even if that might be his brother’s preference.
    It was about more than his own fate, though. Gemma wasn’t nearly safe, and he felt a protectiveness toward her. She didn’t understand magic or Urbanus, and she’d need Venero’s help to survive—never mind escape.
    Urbanus couldn’t destroy them both.
    When Gemma got out of the river, she would be cold and wet. She would need shelter and heat before she could continue to seek her antidote. Celo’s hut would be the closest shelter, and even though Venero had promised to leave his youngest brother in solitude, he’d have to break that promise today.
    For Gemma.
    He gave a ferocious kick and heard the cloth tear. He silently thanked Urbanus for keeping his servants so poor that they had to wear their clothing to rags. He blew a stream of bubbles with the last bit of air in his lungs and lunged toward the surface in the same moment. He felt Gemma snatch after him, undoubtedly hoping to save him from the spelldust, and his heart swelled with more of that admiration. He evaded her grasp, probably only because she was fighting the pavofel. He swam without looking back, not wanting to see her fear for him.
    As he anticipated, the spelldust was landing on the surface of the stream. It sparkled and glittered there in a hundred different colors, as if to entice them all to touch it.
    Venero knew better. He spied a leaf floating on the river, its stem dangling beneath it in the water. Maybe his luck was turning. He managed to grip the stem and let the current sweep him away, down the river, down toward Celo’s hut. He pushed his head into the hollow beneath the leaf and took a gulping breath.
    All he had to do next was accurately guess when to abandon the leaf and jump out of the river.
    And convince Celo to help Gemma.
    Venero wasn’t sure which would be the greater challenge, but he was alive and that had to count for something.
    He was on the bank before he realized that he was relying upon Gemma’s resourcefulness. She’d save herself, now that he’d given her a hint of how to evade the spelldust. He had no doubt of it.
    A demure beauty wouldn’t have survived, much less been such a reliable comrade.
    Venero decided to think about that later.
    * * *
    The toad!
    Gemma had been so worried about Felice and the spelldust that she’d forgotten the toad in her pocket—at least until it thrashed free of her skirt and swam for the surface. She reached for it, but missed. The spelldust! Was it ignoring its own advice? She could only watch as it rose to the surface. It seized a floating leaf, though, and used it as a shelter. It then disappeared from her view, swallowed by the swirling current of the river.
    She supposed it had