Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

watched with steepled fingers, narrowed eyes, and a sense of intensity that I knew meant he was focusing his full attention on the problem.
    “I get to stay like this for anywhere from a few seconds to a minute or two,” Jim said, and sure enough, as soon as it spoke, the form shimmered again and returned to the human version.
    Kostich’s eyes narrowed even further as he rubbed his chin. “Again,” he commanded.
    Aisling and Jim obliged.
    “Do you want to know what spell I used?” I asked when Jim was once again shifted back.
    “The spell is immaterial,” he answered dismissively, gesturing toward a penholder on his desk. “Change that pen to a vase of flowers.”
    “All right.” I focused my energy, recited the most basic of transmutation spells, and watched with resignation as the pen, rather than re-forming its matter to that of the requested vase of flowers, turned into a bowl of spaghetti.
    “Lunch!” Jim said with a brightening of its face.
    “It’s like my magic is all backward. It’s been that way ever since you put the interdiction on me, only now it seems to be—”
    We all stared in surprise as the bowl morphed into a pigeon that blinked back at us.
    “—worsening,” I finished as the pigeon flicked its tail and pooped on Dr. Kostich’s papers.
    He closed his eyes for a moment, his gaunt face reflecting patience that had worn thin. “You are sundren.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Sundren. It is an archaic term, but it aptly describes the relationship between mages and their powers when they have ill used them.”
    “Me? I haven’t ill used anything.” The pigeon squawked and changed into a small marble statue of Hermes. “Well, not much. How did I hurt my magic?”
    “You are a dragon.” He held up a hand to stop my protest. “You appear human, yes, but you are not. You have yourself admitted that your current form harbors that of your previous being, and it is that which has caused the sunder between your magic and your being. This manifests itself in the misfirings that you see.”
    “Great. I’m a misfiring?” Jim looked pathetically at me. “Can you refire me, please?”
    “But that doesn’t make sense,” Aisling said, looking puzzled. “We all saw the vision where the First Dragon resurrected Ysolde. She’s been human ever since then, which means if she was sundren before, it would have shown up then, wouldn’t it?”
    “She was sundren, yes, but the division wasn’t as pronounced as it is now that her dragon being has begun to awaken. Before the attack by her immense mate on the house of the green wyvern, her magic was simply ineffectual. Now the sundering has increased, causing the effects you see.”
    We all looked at the statue as it disappeared into nothing.
    Dr. Kostich sighed. “And now I have lost a favored pen.”
    “OK, I changed my mind,” Jim said, backing away from me. “I don’t want you to try to give me back my magnificent form.”
    “Is there nothing I can do?” I asked Kostich, my heart heavy with sorrow at the thought of losing such an integral part of my being, not to mention leaving Jim in a form it detested. “Can’t you help me?”
    “With the sundering? No.” His gaze shifted to Jim, his expression sour. “I can, however, act as a focal point for your magic to change the demon back to its canine form, not that I understand why it wishes to do so. But there is a cost.”
    “I have a credit card,” Aisling said, reaching for her purse.
    “No, this one’s on me,” I said, doing the same.
    “Not that sort of a cost,” Kostich interrupted, giving us both a disgusted look. “There is a cost to your attunement with arcane magic to have another act as your focal point. That is why it is forbidden in the Magister’s Guild. In effect, you are allowing another mage to use your power, and arcane magic does not like being used in such a manner. So long as you are aware of the risks associated with such an act, we can proceed.”
    “What risks, exactly?” I asked, my stomach tight with nerves.
    “Oh, man, I’m going to lose more toes. I just know it,” Jim moaned. Aisling smacked it on the arm again.
    Dr. Kostich shrugged. “You will not know until you try.”
    “You make it sound like arcane magic is . . . well . . . sentient,” Aisling said.
    “You were proscribed. You have felt the opposite of arcane magic. Would you say the dark power was sentient?”
    “Oh, yes,” she said with a shudder. “Although I didn’t