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The Curse of the Dragon's Spell


The Price of Pride

Naomi was yanked into a deep cavern dimly lit by vents high in the ceiling. The hot air stank of sulfur. Warm, oily drops of liquid spattered her face. Roughhewn rock walls strewn with crevasses seemed carved by huge talons when seeping lava cooled. Breathing from an immense creature, creaking, and a low throaty sound turned her sweat to mist.

Ancient, powerful magic vibrated in her bones and chattered her teeth.

Wondering if she could absorb the power, she opened her body. The familiar itch of energy flowing into her became thousands of painful hornet stings. She crumpled to the ground. The power was so ancient, so massive she was unable to wield it. If she could have found her voice, she would have shrieked with agony.

The dragon's response slammed her. "Good try, Witch. Now you will learn respect and ask before stealing anything without my permission. After an eternity in my arms, maybe I will teach you how to channel my power."

Do you really know what causes the world disasters?