Page 5 of Catastrophe

“Are you all right?” I asked as I ambled out of the wreckage after her.

Her voice was hoarse as she growled, “I’m fine.” But she didn’t look at me or Clawdia, who circled my legs. She was concentrating on brushing herself off with aggressive strokes, which only managed to further pull the misshapen material off her clothes and remove none of the dirt.

“We just pulled you out of a pile of wood. I’m not sure that is fine.” I crossed my arms.

She assessed herself for injuries. She bled from cuts all over her body, red blooming under her tattered and dirty shirt, enticing my senses. I looked down at Clawdia, and we exchanged a glance. I wished she were human. I wasn’t good at communication, which was why I only rescued titans and didn’t train or rehabilitate them. Knowing how to proceed here wasn’t in my skill set.

Elizabeth huffed and repeated, “I’m fine.”

“I can heal you. If you’d like,” I offered. Clawdia wouldn’t mind if I used her power to help her witch’s birth mother.

Elizabeth glared, meeting my gaze for the first time. “You’re possessed.”

Ahh, that’s why she isn’t talking to me. It was understandable, her assumption, considering the last time she saw me, I was in a cage Charlie had conjured. But a lot had happened since.

“Not anymore,” I assured her.

She sneered. “You would say that.”

“I would because it is true. The shadow is gone. He wouldn’t let me speak of this if he were not.”

She paused for a moment as she assessed me with searching eyes, then said, “A lot has happened, it seems.”

“It has.” I stepped closer. “Allow me to heal you, and we can discuss it.”

She swallowed thickly and reluctantly said, “If you could heal me, I would be most appreciative.”

“Say no more.” I picked Clawdia up and placed her on my shoulder before I touched the skin of Elizabeth’s torn-up shoulder and pulled on the titan magic Clawdia still retained despite being a cat.

Elizabeth gasped as her threads turned from orange to green and her wounds closed as though they’d never been there.

She rubbed her arm as I stepped away and asked, “Better?”

“Much. Thank you. Both of you.” She frowned at Clawdia. “Although I can’t imagine why Clawdia would believe now is a good time to stay in her familiar form.”

“It’s a long story. What happened? How did you escape the hunters?” I asked.

“Hunters? Here? When?” she asked, wide-eyed and breathless.

“Last evening. That’s why no one found you. Everyone seems to be gone. Taken.”

“Taken,” she repeated, her mouth agape as she looked over at the remains of the building. “He destroyed the wards.”

“Who?” I asked. Someone on the island sabotaged the wards and jeopardized all the people hiding here?

She ignored me in favor of her own question, and suspicion glinted in her narrowed eyes. “But you are here. How did you escape the hunters?”

“We weren’t here last night.” She opened her mouth to ask another question, but I continued, frustrated. “I will explain, but our priority is finding Charlie. Do you know what happened to him?”

She huffed a derisive laugh and, with a curled lip, growled, “Charlie is what happened to me.”

Clawdia meowed, probably in disagreement or surprise at Elizabeth’s words. I petted her and calmly asked, “So he’s alive?”

“Alive?” That surprised her enough that her previous ugly expression fell from her face. “You think he’s dead?”

I tilted my head at Clawdia. “Her bond with him is gone.”

“What?” She stared at Clawdia, then shook her head and blinked before refocusing on me. “Last I saw him, he was alive. He’s a dragon, though. He’ll be susceptible to Fafnir’s influence and will turn against us, so it would be better if he were dead.”

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