No. No. No.
The harpies’ words come back to me then, circling, weaving like smoke through me.You’re hardly helpless. You should have no problem getting yourself out of this hole.
I’m not helpless.
I’m a witch.
I close my eyes and whisper this fervently to myself, over and over, fighting to believe it, toknowit, tofeelit: “You’re not helpless. You’re not helpless. You’re not helpless. You’re not helpless.”
I’m not weak. I cast a spell that spanned a decade, that held over the years, that affected countless people, blinded them to the sight of me. I am the opposite of weak. I am powerful. I can get out of this stupid hole.
The harpies’ words return to me then:Give it voice and put it out there into the universe and your magic will answer the call.
I don’t allow myself to contemplate what I will do once I’m out, once I’m above ground. I only know that Tage is up there, hurting, in trouble, and he needs help.
He needs me.
I’m not going to stay down in this pit while he’s up there dying.
I jam my eyes tighter, my lips moving rapidly as the mantra continues to trip off my lips in a barely there murmur.Get me out of this hole. Get me out of this hole.
Suddenly it’s colder. A chill wind envelops me. My eyes flutter open, and I’ve moved. I’m standing above ground, and it’s chaos.
Naked warriors, a half dozen, clump in a tight group, something—someone—at their center as they punch, claw, kick in the eerie glow of the moon. At least they haven’t shifted into their dragons. Not that they are diminutive. They’re inhumanly big, muscled behemoths. All nearly as big as Tage.
Blood is in the air. Tage’s blood. The copper taste fills my mouth.
I shout, “Stop! Stop it!”
Two glance over, stepping back to survey me, granting me a glimpse of Tage in the midst of them, crouched like a feral animal, snarling and swiping at those still attacking him. Purple blood glimmers on his skin, oozing from his nose and lips and several open wounds.
He doesn’t see me yet. He’s still fighting back against three warriors who have not yet noticed me.
“Leave him alone!”
This time they all look at me. Even Tage looks up at me, his eyes large and glazed bright with pain in his bloodied face.
“Arden!” he cries, his kaleidoscopic eyes flashing. “No!” Dread and desperation vibrate in the boom of that single word. That and more.
I hear everything he’s not saying, see everything he’s communicating with his wild gaze.Don’t do this. Don’t be here. Run. Go. Flee.
I ignore him. I don’t move. I can’t. I face them all...determined to do for Tage what I know he would do for me. I’ve failed others, everyone else I loved.
I won’t fail him.
They all approach me, a great, menacing wall of flesh rippling toward me, their human skin winking in and out, dragon scales glinting, eager to burst through and emerge.
Their eyes with their fully vertical pupils make no effort to disguise what they are, dragons at their core.
“I knew I smelled a witch.” A dragon steps ahead of the others, a slow satisfied smile curving his lips as he confronts me, his long blue-black hair hanging to his waist in snarls. “I’m never wrong.”
Tage surges to his feet with no thought to his injuries. He shoves past the other onyx. No one stops him, too busy centering all their blistering concentration on me.
Tage reaches me just as the dragon with the blue-black hair makes his move. He lifts a hand high above in the air, claws shooting out from the curling tips of his fingers.
Tage shoves me out of the way, knocking me down. I hit the snow with a grunt just as Tage twists around and takes the swipe of the talons intended for me to his chest.
Purple blood sprays an obscene splatter on the snow, and I scream, terrified with the knowledge that Tage is not invulnerable among his own kind. Birds launch from the trees with loud caws, wings flapping. If anyone can destroy him, it’s these monsters.
