Chapter 1

“We want you to be the next High Priestess of the Council of Avalon, Jerrie. The council members voted and the majority agreed.”

I stared at my brownie friend in annoyance. Talk about inappropriate timing! I’d just barely survived a magical duel against their previous High Priestess a few minutes ago. Morgana Le Fey had served as High Priestess in the sanctuary of Avalon for centuries. Over time, though, she had gradually slipped into madness, becoming a wicked egomaniac that the Avalon Council should have put down before a lot of people, including children, were hurt. Despite their stupid vote, I’m not priestess material, that’s for certain.

My name is Jerrie Spears, and I came to Avalon requesting sanctuary after being stalked by an evil witch who killed my family. When I saw the madness and evil inside the High Priestess and the harm she had caused, I knew it was time for her to die. I just got stuck doing the dirty work that everyone else in Avalon was either too afraid or too corrupt or to whatever else was going on here to do themselves.

You need to give them some type of answer, Jerrie.

That’s my sword talking in my head. He’s sentient and used to be a wizard called Torlean. He’s the sword of power, and belonged to the Founder of the Order of the Knight Protectors, Lord Frederick Gallows. Now, through a trial and testing where I essentially plunged the spiritual aspect of the sword through my spiritual heart, we’ve become bonded in what was called the Gallows’ Test. I’m not into ritual suicide. Plunging that flaming sword into my chest hurt like the real thing. It was necessary in order to learn how to use the magic of a Champion Knight Protector. To learn how to use the magic that my murdered twin sister Georgie risked her soul and withstood four hours of torture to send to me. So Jerrie Spears sword flambé it was.

I looked over at my-hope-to-be-as-soon-as-we-can-get-some-time-boyfriend, selkie shape-shifter and Knight Protector Jeff Siniocor in mute appeal. How do I get out of this one without hurting anyone’s feelings?

Jeff spoke up for me and I could have kissed him. Well, I could have kissed him anyways, but thank you, my sweet-talking archeologist!

“Maggie, now isn’t the time for this discussion. We’re all in shock. Jerrie’s just been through two difficult and traumatic magical events, and you need to bury your high priestess. Morgana had her issues late in her life, but as Dragon pointed out, she did serve Avalon faithfully for many centuries. She deserves to be buried with all honors.”

Issues? Mad as the proverbial hatter, actually, and evil by choice.

He put his arm protectively around me.

“I’m taking Jerrie home to get her something to eat and some rest. We’ll set up something after the funeral, okay?”

Maggie nodded, blushing. “Of course. You’re right, Jeffrey. I’m sorry, Jerrie.”

I blurted out before we left the brownie councilwoman, “Maggie! Can you send that seeley Houndmaster to see us sometime soon?”

She grinned. “That I can do. Maybe tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll be curious to see yon wee monster.”

“Thank you.”

“Yon wee monster” was my familiar who right at this moment was capering around us chasing his tail, since I had a rope leash on him and wasn’t letting him chase any people like he’d been trained to do. Lucifer was four hundred pounds of adolescent Hellhound, who had broken out of his kennel in the Hell dimension, made it through Avalon’s impressive magical protections somehow, and bonded with me yesterday. I thought he was just a very large abused puppy who got loose from a cruel master. I had no idea that he was the teenaged version of the prized hounds used by the top demons in Hell to keep order in their domains. The hounds did this by acting essentially the same as sheepherding dogs, only for dead souls. They formed telepathic bonds with their demons and could locate souls by telepathically hunting them down through dimensional travels. Lucifer was still too young to have developed this skill, thank goodness. But other skills, like eating dead bodies and chasing people, were unfortunately already a part of his repertoire.

Maggie Neverstill had mentioned that a banished Master of Hounds from the Seeley Court had taken sanctuary here in Avalon, and his last fairy hound had died many decades ago. Without the company of his beloved hounds, the bitter old elf was slowly fading, the only way his kind could die. The brownie thought that he might be persuaded to train Lucifer, named after the top demon of Hell, just to have another hound to care for.

I was unbelievably tired as my body dragged all the way back to our suite. Dragon, who is the last of the shape-shifting dragons, stayed with us, and I could sense his concern for my well-being.

I reached out and took his hand.

“I’m okay, Dragon, or, at least, I’ll be fine after I eat and have some time to assimilate everything. I haven’t had a chance to brief you guys on what’s happened, what the cost was for passing that test. I don’t regret it, but it was a big change, and right on top of that, Lucifer…”

“Arhooooooo!”

“I know that’s you, boy. We’ll get you something to eat soon.”

Dragon’s eyes narrowed as he looked from me to the dog and back. “He’s bonded with you, hasn’t he?”

“Yes. Right after I bonded with Torlean. It’s overwhelming to have two voices in my head. He wanted to eat Morgana’s body!”

“Of course he did. He’s a Hellhound. He’s probably been trained to eat long pig from the day he was whelped.”

Jeff stiffened, glaring at the dragon shape-shifter. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Call humans long pig like that.”

“Why? It is a perfectly literal Chinese translation.”

Dragon was a black Imperial Chinese Dragon.

I touched Jeff’s arm so he would let me handle it.

“Using that terminology for men and women who aren’t dragons or Chinese dehumanizes them, Dragon. It makes it sound as though you think people like Jeff and I, and others like us, are nothing but food to you, like pork would be to us.”

The dragon-shifter stared at me for a moment with his peridot-colored reptilian eyes. Finally he bowed one of his elegant old-world bows. He was 4000 years old, and acted like it sometimes.

“My apologies to both of you for my rudeness. I will try not to use that term again.”

I looked at Jeff expectantly.

The selkie, fortunately, caught on to what I wanted. He smiled at Dragon. “We appreciate it, Dragon, we really do.”

You were right about the selkie, Jerrie. He is quick on the mark. Good-looking too. Have you and he…

Shut up, Tor, that isn’t any of your business.

Hey, I’m a sword! I have to get my gratification any way I can get it!

Not any more, Wizard Torlean. This White Dragon can send you to the otherworld to be ‘gratified’ to your heart’s content by your sugar bear Sir Frederick. It’s a bennie from having a necromantic healer bonded to you. I wonder if I can make it permanent?

Are you trying to get rid of me?

The sword, which I was holding in my hand since I didn’t have a sheath for it, turned a hurt ebony blue color.

“Jerrie, why is Excalibur turning black?” asked Dragon.

“It’s actually a dark blue. The sword changes colors to match his moods once he’s bonded to someone. I don’t have a mood ring, I have a mood sword. Great.”

“He thought I was gay bashing the Founder when I met him and he glowed orange at me.” Jeff pointed out, which wasn’t especially helpful at the moment.

“Gay bashing? Why would you hit someone who is happy, and what does that have to do with Lord Frederick Gallows?” Dragon looked really confused by that point.

Jeff opened his mouth to explain, but I stopped him.

“Let me do it, Jeff, you’ll just make it worse.”

I stopped walking and faced Dragon, holding up the sword.

“Dragon, I’d like to formally introduce you to the Wizard Torlean. Tor, meet the last and the greatest of the dragon shifters, the black Imperial Chinese dragon, Tsu Ching Tso. Dragon, as I told Maggie earlier, Tor gave up his body and took over Sir Frederick’s sword so they could fight evil together. He is also Sir Frederick’s partner and soulmate. He turned that ebony color because I hurt his feelings, since I was wondering if I am now or will I be powerful enough later to permanently remove his spirit from the sword.”

Dragon bowed at Tor. “I am pleased to meet you formally at last, Wizard. I apologize for not realizing you were sentient and sending you back where you belonged. I owe you a boon for that mistake.”

Jeff and I both looked at Dragon in shock. No supernatural liked to put themselves in debt to another. It was unheard of for a powerful one like Dragon to do so voluntarily.

I listened to Tor for a moment, then translated.

“He says thank you, Dragon, but refuses to take your boon. His reason for that is because it was your visits to the tomb, and your monologs to Arthur’s sarcophagus, that kept him entertained for centuries. You saved his sanity. It is you who is owed the boon. But since he is only a sword there is no way to repay it.”

Tor had turned a bright pink now.

I smiled. “I think he’s had a crush on you for a while, Dragon, see, he’s blushing!”

“Stop teasing him, Jerrie!” Ordered a blushing Dragon.