Page 35 of Catastrophe

Dralie huffed and then turned around to face our backs to them. Still upset, but taking my word they would not attack our open and unprotected back.

Baelen began, “I understand you are angry. It was wrong of them to attack you while you were defenseless. They are going to apologize, but it would assure them you are indeed Charlie if you were human again.”

Wait, they don’t think it’s me? They think I’m some unknown dragon? They need me to fucking prove it? What a bunch of cocks.

“They do resemble cocks. I have always thought so.” The dragon chuffed, which I took to be a laugh.

Always? But I didn’t want to delve into it. “So glad to amuse you.”

“We are sorry, Charlie. We thought you were Fafnir. We’d never want to hurt you,” Savida echoed, and the sadness in his voice played on my heartstrings. “You saved me from my cage, and I helped in your capture instead of returning the favor. I will never forgive myself.”

I melted a little, and apparently, so did Dralie, because he turned his head slightly so he could peek at the daemon behind us. Savida had his head bowed and was wringing his hands like he could get every drop of guilt out through his fingers.

“Never forgiving himself is harsh. It’s not like he did it himself. Or hurt us.”

I wished I could tell him that and make his sad little puppy eyes go away. I’d tell him when I eventually changed back to human. Whenever that would be. For now, Dralie was still feeling too threatened to let me take over, and I couldn’t blame him.

“This daemon is a good-hearted soul. He may live.”

“So generous of you.”

“The akari, he convinced the other beings to set us free?”

“You know who he is. You saw him in my memories.”

“He was caged, too. Perhaps he wanted revenge and asked the others to hold us.”

“You heard him as well as I did, so stop being stubborn. His being caged was necessary for him as well as us. He didn’t want to hurt us.”

“He is the mate of our mate?”

I coughed a little over the “mate,” but he wasn’t wrong. I’d been calling her my familiar, but the bond was shadow in origin and reserved for mates. And although I couldn’t imagine my life without her or Zaide now, I hadn’t started imagining a future and what that would look like.

When Clawdia told us of her vision, the one of our children, I’d panicked. A happy future and a family were all I’d wanted as a child. But making wishes only caused disappointment when they never came true. Yet with one sentence, she’d handed me all my heart’s desires, and my first instinct was to run away, to distance myself from it, in case it was a trick.

When she said one of the boys had scales, I knew it was too good to be true. But I didn’t think about me turning into a dragon. I thought it would be the combination of our power that made him a dragon. Maybe if I’d taken that thought more seriously, I could have done something earlier.

Our bond was missing, yet the ache was still a raw pain in my chest, as if my heart had been cut out but I could still feel it beating somewhere separate from me.

Look at me turning into a tortured poet. Just call me Charlie Bennet Poe.

“Clawdia. Ask about her. I need to know if she’s okay. I’m assuming she is because he doesn’t look like someone mourning their soul mate, but then again, he’s a bit of a stoic bastard. Not enough hugs as a child, if you know what I mean,” I rambled.

But the dragon didn’t seem to mind. He replied blandly, “I do not. How do I ask about her?”

“You could let me take over so I can ask.”

Dralie scoffed. “And allow our fleshy body to be vulnerable to the elements. To the akari and daemon?”

“Fleshy body?” I screeched before trying to fix my tone and defensively explained, “I know I’ve lost a bit of muscle, but I’d like to see how good you look after weeks traveling, eating shit, and being captured and stressed all the time. My body’s trying to help me shed weight so I can run from otherworlders and hunters as fast as humanly possible, okay?”

The pregnant pause was … worse. More silent. Probably because the voice in my head didn’t know how to respond to my outburst.

“I apologize. I didn’t realize I hurt your feelings. You are very strong for a human. And very fast.” I stuttered, but he interrupted, “Tell me what you want me to do to communicate with the akari.”

I sighed. “Draw a picture. Of a cat.”

He huffed. But thankfully, he picked up a giant paw—foot?—and used one claw like a pen to scratch into the sand a child’s painting version of a cat, complete with whiskers and a fluffy tail. For a dragon drawing, it was actually pretty good.

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