“That doesn’t prove you aren’t still possessed, just that you are in control,” Daithi remarked.
“I don’t have time to prove anything to you, faei. If you would like to help your friends, we need to work quickly.” I snapped, my patience with them running out as Charlie let out a pained whine as his tail hit the barrier.
The male witch, whose name I didn’t know, asked, “You said Charlie’s bond with Clawdia snapped. What does that mean? He’s dead?” His eyes flickered between me and the dragon. Finally. Someone with a brain.
“No. We thought he could be, but he’s alive and well. If not furious.” As if to show my point, Charlie roared so loud that we all had to cover our ears.
“Why isn’t he with you, then?” Savida asked, and I had to stop myself from releasing a frustrated sigh.
“Because he’s with you. The dragon you’ve captured is Charlie.”
Everyone turned toward the golden dragon, whose tail continued to twitch inside the barrier. He stared back, blinking, smoke curling from his nostrils, but not roaring, not spewing flames.
“Charlie isn’t a dragon,” Daithi replied dismissively.
“That is Fafnir. You cannot trick us into releasing him, shadow.” Sigurd sneered, and I held his gaze.
Does he really not know? Why doesn’t he know what his enemy’s dragon form looks like? Has he forgotten? Despite my doubts about Sigurd, I couldn’t continue to argue when the proof was in the fact I could portal here.
Gritting my teeth and taking a deep breath, I didn’t tell them how much physical pain their stupidity was causing me. Instead, I appealed to what little logic they had. “Explain to me what happened and how you concluded this is Fafnir.”
“We saw something fall from the sky and thought it was an enormous bird. But Fafnir had crashed into the trees and gotten trapped underneath it,” Savida explained, but his enthusiasm for the catch had dimmed, and his confusion at the situation made him speak slower than usual.
I raised a questioning, mocking brow as I stared at them. “A dragon as old as Fafnir crashed beneath a tree?”
“Fafnir was reborn, just as I was. Perhaps he is also drained,” Sigurd replied with a shrug, but he avoided my eyes. There was something he wasn’t telling us. But what?
“Has he not been flying around and terrorizing the populace from the moment he awoke?” I asked, crossing my arms and shifting my feet.
Sigurd opened his mouth to say something, but Savida interrupted with a whisper. “You really don’t believe it’s him?”
“It’s Charlie. A new dragon who escaped from being murdered by witches and taken by hunters, who happened to find himself flying and probably crashed out of fatigue from stretching his new wings.”
Sigurd muttered, “Or Fafnir crashed here because the witches and the hunters on the island attacked and injured him.”
“Other than the injury you have inflicted upon him and the ones obvious from the fall, is there anything on him which you believe might impede a dragon from flying?” I snapped.
“Well, we haven’t got that close to him,” Laurence admitted.
“Night and darkness, you are impossible.” I threw my hands up and was glad to see them flinch at my quick movement. I pointed at the unknown witch. “Witch, release Charlie right now, or you’ll be dead.”
“You can’t kill people to get what you want,” Daithi growled and moved to stand between me and the witch.
“You are under the impression that I care about you. But I don’t know you. And my soul mates will agree that getting Charlie back to them is of the utmost importance. They’ll forgive me for killing you,” I replied with a cruel smile.
“We will not allow you to kill anyone, shadow.” Sigurd also moved to stand at Daithi’s side.
“Let’s not fight.” Savida pleaded and clutched at his mate’s arm.
Daithi shrugged him off. “You are incorrect. We will not allow you to hurt us or free an angry dragon.”
I had to marvel at the situation for a moment. I hope they fall to their knees in forgiveness when they realize how idiotic they are.
“Are you going to stop me, faei?” I asked, my voice low and threatening.
“You’ve not even got shoes on.” He sneered. “You don’t intimidate me.”
“Don’t worry about my shoes. I don’t need them to make you suffer. You’ll feel the imprint of each toe in your ribs as I beat you without the use of my gifts, just so I can get a bit of practice in.”