Lyra is only a child, and only a wayfarer. Despite her desire to fit in, she is cursed by her family’s reputation for dark magic and manipulative deals. So when her own magic emerges in a rush of Air and power, Lyra tries to hide it. If magic is a gift, it doesn’t feel like one, for it further separates her from others.
But when her friend needs her most, she must use her power. She must accept who and what she is, before she fails anyone else.
The spring sky paled in comparison to their colors. Their minute feathers, slick smooth over delicately-boned bodies, glimmered in shades of navy and hues of periwinkle. One had the cast of those rare spring wildflowers that popped through the leaf litter weeks before everything else, and another had an especially dark spray of feathers that formed a spiky crown just behind its skull. That one, perhaps interested in the novelty of visitors, pulled its head from its wing and inspected her with opalescent eyes clouded by sleepiness. A few blinks, and its eyes turned entrancing as the rare sapphires procured from Aklimian traders.
This story is part of the anthology Wonder and Dragons: A Midwest Fantasy Sampler.
A Short Story of Midgate
