Read The Lord of Illusion - 3 for Free Online Page A

completely fixed upon Lady Pembridge.
    “I… I am astonished, I assure you,” said the duchess. “I have never held any power beyond a wisp of illusion.”
    The dragon threw back his head and roared, streams of mist issuing from the cavernous maw. Several members of the court held their hands over their ears at the swell of sound, but Camille continued to hold onto the duchess’s hand, as if she could somehow stop the woman from embellishing the spell.
    To no avail. A thin stream of gold issued from the tip of Roden’s scepter, heading directly for the wigged head of Lady Pembridge. Her illusory dragon doubled in size, lunged in front of that threatening beam of magic and snapped at it, dissolving the golden mist into shreds. And then turned upon the elven lord.
    Women screamed. Tables toppled.
    Roden raised a brow and instantly created his own golden dragon. This one from the stuff of nightmare. Jagged teeth, elongated claws, barbs along the golden scales. It hissed at Lady Pembridge’s illusion and pounced.
    Several members of the court tried to leave the room. The enchanted walls heaved and swelled. Doors slammed and windows collapsed, preventing any escape. The more savvy of the aristocrats took refuge behind velvet couches and overturned tables.
    Camille could only stare in horror as the two dragons rolled about the room, tails slamming into mirrors with a shatter, growls piercing the air, teeth snapping on golden scales.
    She could not lose another employer. Not again. She would never manage to climb her way out of the destitution of slavery for a third time. Camille gritted her teeth and squeezed the duchess’s hand once more, but this time not in warning. This time she willed the old woman to fight back with everything she had. For if her illusion faltered…
    Imperial Lord Roden smiled. Lady Pembridge stared in stupefied fascination at the two dragons.
    Roden’s illusion clasped the other about the throat and sunk its teeth into the smaller scales there. Blood as red as the finest claret began to ooze from scale and teeth. The duchess’s dragon writhed about, finally managed to break that hold, and bit down on its opponent’s wing.
    Roars shook the room.
    Another tumble of scale and wing and teeth. Blood now covered the golden floor. It soon became apparent that Roden’s illusion would prevail.
    A ghastly sound of flesh ripping. A clawed arm flew across the room to knock the wig from the head of a lady in white, who promptly screamed and fainted.
    Camille now began to pray that Lady Pembridge would allow her illusion to fade. But her mistress no longer seemed to have any control over her creation. It bled and screamed and scattered shiny guts about the room as Roden’s dragon tore it slowly to bits.
    Tears tracked a path down the duchess’s wrinkled cheeks.
    With a final roar, her illusion finally winked out of existence, leaving not a single stain upon the palace floor, although Camille still held the shadow of grisly death within her eyes. As she looked about the room, she realized that others did as well.
    “Well done,” said Imperial Lord Roden. “I underestimated you, Lady P. That was more entertaining than I had ever dreamed.” He tapped his beautifully sculpted chin with the golden scepter. “But it does leave me with a dilemma, my dear. In light of the developments at Verdanthame, I fear I must make an example of you.”
    Camille’s heart raced. Lady Pembridge did not react at all, her frozen eyes still tracing tears down her face.
    Roden’s dragon turned its red eyes upon the duchess and approached her chair, talons screeching jagged gouges into the floor. Camille wanted to scream, wanted to fling herself over her mistress’s body to protect her. But she could not move. Her legs would not listen to her commands. Her arms shook as if the muscles had been fatigued beyond endurance.
    “You see, my dear,” continued the elven lord while his dragon took one long sniff down Lady