Page 51 of Catastrophe

“Daithi is very secretive.” I looked at the witches listening avidly to Marianne and asked, “When are they planning to do the spell?”

“As soon as possible. Before our captors have time to react.” I nodded. We needed to try something. He patted my shoulder. “Glad to have you on board. We’ll let you know when we’ll need you, but it will probably be evident.”

“Wait a moment, Joseph.” He raised his brow and paused before I whispered, “Did you see the dragon? On the island? Just before we were taken?”

“No.” His eyes scanned mine. “I assume you did?”

“I think so. There was a roar. I think it lifted me.” I tried to remember clearly but only recalled flashes of gold. I shook my head. “But it makes little sense. Why would Fafnir be on the island when the hunters attacked us? Does he not fear them too?”

“Are you sure you saw him? Did you have a reaction to the tranquilizer? Are you feeling well?” Joseph’s brows furrowed with his concern. Not because he liked me, I assumed, but because he needed me well enough to help us escape.

I frowned. Other than my bond with Clawdia feeling cold and lifeless, there wasn’t anything wrong with me. “I feel fine.”

“Then I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. If Fafnir was there when we were taken, he’d hardly let a bunch of humans take us when he could drain us himself.”

“I don’t think it tried to hurt me …” I’d been lifted, but then hunters shot it, and it dropped me. Maybe it was trying to kill me. Why else would it pick me up?

He patted my arm, which both infuriated and reassured me. “I think you were seeing things. It’s fine. It’s a drug meant for humans, so who knows how many darts hit you to knock you out. You might have overdosed but as long as you feel all right now …”

I knew nothing about human drugs, but his certainty that it was a hallucination had me doubting my own mind, my own eyes. And as I recalled the moment, I could have sworn there was something familiar about the dragon, something in its eyes … so perhaps I was unwell.

Joseph gave me a smile and shuffled away from me, leaving me to my own thoughts. Marianne was still supervising the witches, and they were chanting quietly, all focused on a task and calm. Alex bent over Samuel, trying to calm him from whatever was triggering his beast. I’m certain the lack of freedom frustrated him, but maybe there was other magic involved, as there seemed to be with the shields.

A terrible thought suddenly occurred to me. What if they are listening? Like the witches were listening to us when we were in the cave cage?

I reached across someone to clasp Joseph’s shoulder hard and whispered, “Have you checked there’s no one listening to us down here?”

His expression changed from shock to a frown, and he shrugged off my touch. “Of course we have. I wouldn’t be speaking so freely otherwise.”

He attempted to turn his back and continue whatever magic he was attempting, but I grasped his arm and asked again, “I do not mean for magical ways of listening, I assume that is the first thing, considering we are in a magic cage, but have you checked for human things. Things Charlie might use to listen to others.”

When his expression faltered, my heart stopped, and as his head swung around, I saw his eyes searching the walls beyond our cage. He shouted to Marianne, “Did you check for bugs or technology hidden from us?”

His question, once again, made the silence fall and the tension rise until all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears as Marianne paled and she, too, scanned the room.

“It’s dark in here …” I allowed my thought to trail off since it didn't help anyone acknowledge the hunters probably left us in the dark so we would assume we were alone and forgotten about and they could hide things.

Now we had to deal with the outcome of our foolishness.

One witch, after a quick chant, pointed with a shaking hand and a sob in her throat. “There.”

I couldn’t see what she pointed at, but panic spread through the cage like wildfire. Whimpers became screams, and although the council tried to hush and take control of the situation, it was too late. My heart hammered as chaos descended.

Those not prone to panic launched themselves into the spell, chanting loud enough for the others to calm slightly and join. I stood and gripped the now flickering blue bars, ready to do my part and push them apart for us to escape. But a loud and angry hiss drowned out their casting, and smoke filled the room.

The chanting stopped as screams took over, and hysterical witches clawed at the bars. But the bar’s blue shield came back to full power, blasting the witches and me away.

As the smoke covered us all, I curled into a ball on the floor and covered my mouth with my shirt. But so many witches were still screaming and rushing to the bars, stomping on me in the process enough that my hair was tugged as feet slipped on it.

My gods, if you can hear me, please protect us. Ensure Clawdia, Charlie, and your son, Baelen, are safe. I need them, and they need me. Please help us reunite.

And as the screaming died down and the sound of the smoke stopped, I opened my eyes to see everyone collapsing in the strange-tasting white fog. Piled atop one another and in unnatural positions, many had their mouths wide open as their chests continued to rise and fall. Alive.

Relief swept over me as my eyes fluttered shut and my mind quieted.

The last thing I heard was footsteps.

CHAPTER 13

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