Page 30 of A Witch and Her Dragon
It was Raelan.
Then it was a dragon.
Adragon.
Raelan is a . . . a . . .
Beside me, the chain I removed from Raelan’s neck lies in the grass. My hands quiver as I reach for it, take it into my mud-smeared fingers.
“Alina!”
I clench the chain and cast my gaze to the stormy sky as two sets of feet pound toward me, splashing through the puddles and the mud. Then Lyra and Maeve are kneeling on either side of me, their faces scrunched in concern as they reach for my arms.
“What happened?” Lyra asks, raising her voice to be heard over the storm. Her red curls are already turning adeeper shade from being soaked by the rain. She glances around, forehead furrowing. “And where’s Raelan?”
They pull me to my feet, but my knees can scarcely hold my weight, and I stumble. They catch me, but just barely.
“I . . .” I whisper, searching the sky again. “He . . .”
But the dragon—Raelan—is gone, vanished into the storm above.
My gaze flicks to the ruined clothes and boots scattered across the courtyard, then to the chain grasped tightly in my shaking hand, and I realize that I may have just made a terrible,terriblemistake.
“Come on, we have to get you inside,” Maeve says. Rainwater runs down her forehead and cheeks, causing her long dark eyelashes to clump together.
She and Lyra help me through the mud and grass and back up the stairs to the castle, where Poppy is waiting for us, holding the door open. We all stumble into the grand hall, dripping rain onto the marble floor, and Poppy shoves the door closed with a heavy thump.
“You’re freezing,” Lyra says. She rubs her hands together, creating a tiny flame, then gently blows on the flickering ember, sending heat washing over me. It feels amazing.
But my body is still shaking—just not from the cold, like Lyra thinks.
All I can see is the way Raelan moved, the gold in his eyes, the sheen of his glossy black scales.
“You should sit down.” Maeve helps guide me to a comfortable couch in the corner of the entrance hall. She sinks down beside me while Poppy and Lyra sit on the couch opposite us.
Finally, I start to get my wits about me.
“H-how’d you know where to find me?” I ask. “The fog...” It was so thick, I could scarcely see ten feet through it.
“I had a dream,” Poppy says softly. “Last night, I dreamt we’d find you in the courtyard after dinner.” She clasps her hands in her lap and regards me with a worried expression. “And we did.”
Her dream magic. That makes sense.
But what still doesn’t make sense is what I saw. Is what Raelan became.
There’s a stained glass window behind Lyra and Poppy, depicting a witch in a long blue robe. Rainwater runs down the glass, making it look like she’s weeping.
“Did you dream of anything else?” I ask, still staring at the witch in the glass.
What if she knows about Raelan? Will she say anything? ShouldIsay anything? Something tells me no, to keep this secret until I have a chance to talk to him.
Assuming he even comes back.
Poppy cants her head and twists her lips to one side. “In the dream... there was a figure watching you. But I couldn’t see their face. They were just a shadow.”
“Uh, that’s super creepy,” Lyra says beside her. She wrinkles her nose and leans her weight onto the curved armrest. “Are your dreams always accurate? Because I didn’t see anyone.”
“Not always, no.” Poppy reaches up to fiddle with a strand of her hair. “But they always mean something.” Hereyes meet mine, and a tingle goes down my back. “I’m just not sure what to make of that one yet.”
