If wishes were horses, beggars would ride . . .
Jessica O’Conner didn’t know about beggars, but she certainly wished for a more comfortable mode of transportation than horseback.
When she first arrived in the magical realm, she had adventures galore. Now the fun continues as she journeys southward to the wizards she hopes can send her home again. But nothing’s ever that simple for Jessica. First she accidentally turns a man into a dog, her magical moonstone pendant is stolen, and she somehow finds herself agreeing to raise the dead to pick some flowers. Then her troubles really begin.
The small camp fire was nothing more than a pile of glowing embers within a ragged ring of stones. In the distance, a wolf howled mournfully at the quarter moon that glimmered faintly through the trees. There was no wind, but small rustlings filled the night air. Oblivious, the cloak-wrapped figure beside what was left of the fire snored gently.
The chestnut mare, tethered nearby, whickered and pawed the ground as a shadow stole into the camp. Ghosting from tree to tree, the shadow made its way carefully to where a travel pack had been left haphazardly near to where the sleeper lay. With infinite care and a delicate touch that belied his size, he searched the pack thoroughly.
What he was looking for was not there. Biting back a frustrated sigh he sat back on his heels and looked around the small camp. There, the tree the horse was tied to. There was a pair of saddle bags lying at its base. The would-be thief cautiously moved in that direction and swore softly as he stumbled over the saddle left carelessly near the horse.
He froze as his intended victim stirred. The sleeper muttered incoherently and one slim arm freed itself from the cloak long enough to gesture in the air. There was a crackle of static, a flash of blue light, and the sleeper slept on.