Dragon Witch ✔️

77 - Tortured

Before I could do anything, I had to stem the bleeding in my arm. It was worse than I'd thought. Of course, I knew the wound was terrible, but I'd been trying not to look at it. Feeling the blood drench through my shirt made it impossible to ignore.

There was no time for modesty now. I took off my shirt and gingerly placed it on my left shoulder. Next, I took off my belt and wrapped it loosely around my arm. The last step would be the most painful, but skipping it wasn't an option if I wanted to stay conscious long enough to get out of here. The blood loss was already making me feel woozy.

Holding my good hand on the belt buckle, I bit the end of the belt and threaded it through the buckle. All I had to do now was tighten the belt. Okay, now. How about now? Just yank the belt. Just tighten it. Come on, it would hurt for a minute, but then it would be a lot better in the long run. It wouldn't feel better, but at least I wouldn't pass out from blood loss.

I sank my fangs into the leather of my belt and pulled as hard as I could.

***

How long had it been? The pool of blood forming around me was a lot bigger than it had been when I tried to bandage my wound. I'd passed out, hadn't I? It'd felt just like a daze of pain, but I must've lost consciousness at some point.

My shirt was soaked through. I hadn't been strong enough to make a proper tourniquet. How long had it been, really? Was it too late to save my friends? No, it couldn't be. Clastor said he would bring me to the feast once my friends were prepared as the main course. That could be a long time after they were dead, though, if the icorits liked their meals elaborately prepared.

I couldn't think about that. Until I saw their corpses, I had to assume they were alive. I had to fight to get out of here.

The trapdoors creaked open above my head, and Clastor dropped through the opening. My head swam. He couldn't be here already. They couldn't be dead. If they were dead, I- no, they couldn't be dead. They couldn't be.

Are you regretting your life choices yet, weakling? Clastor asked. If you'd killed that annoying fairy a long time ago, you would have fledged, and I would have no quarrel with you now. An additional benefit would be the silence of that jabbering creature. He mimed clawing his ears. He won't shut up about you. "Where's Lilly?" "Is Lilly okay?" "What are you doing to Lilly?"--it's enough to make me throw up.

"He's still alive?" I asked, hoping beyond hope that it was true.

Yes, unfortunately. The icorits insist on boiling the water in those enormous pots of theirs, for ceremony or some such nonsense. It's taking eons, so I thought I would entertain myself by torturing you.

"Wonderful. I was just thinking some torture might pass the time." At least my friends were alive. I still had time to save them.

Be as sarcastic as you wish. You'll be grieving soon enough. Do you think fairy goes better with avocado or tomato? Scratching his back with his horns, he chuckled. I think both.

A plan bloomed in my pain-fogged mind. "You know what, I think he'd go better with fruit or some kind of sweet and savory sauce. You're right; dying isn't worth saving a fairy's life. The meat's best fresh, though. You know, before they die? I'd love to try it."

He collapsed in bouts of laughter. Did you really think I'd fall for that? I'm wingless, not brainless. You won't be getting out of here until your pets are dead.

So much for that plan. If only I wasn't fighting to stay conscious, I would be on my feet and stabbing that pripping dragon in an instant.

With a sigh, he stretched out his catlike body. You're amusing, even if you are pathetic. Make me laugh some more. Try to fledge right here and now. They say the Dark One fledged when he was six years old through sheer willpower, before he ever tasted fairy blood. Maybe you have enough of his genes to do the same.

He flicked his tail my way. Or more likely, it's an urban legend, and you'll make a fool out of yourself trying. It would be fun to watch, though.

I growled. There was no way I would humiliate myself any more for his enjoyment. Drakius had made it very clear that killing a fairy was the only way to fledge. Then again, had he really? That'd been what he meant, but he'd specifically said that killing a fairy was a means to an end, the way to elicit a powerful bloodlust to cause fledging.

What if that bloodlust didn't have to come from killing a fairy? What if it didn't even have to come from killing anything? I sure felt like killing Clastor, but I didn't have the strength or the armament to do it. If I did, I knew exactly what I would do with it.

I closed my eyes, envisioning myself as a dragon. Before Eva torched my revealer crown, I'd transformed into one twice. There was nothing like that kind of power racing through my veins. I could almost feel it now as I imagined jumping on Clastor and ripping into him with my claws.

He laughed. What are you doing, little changeling? You may have the Dark One's genes, but even if he fledged without killing, there is no way you could. You're a weakling, a pathetic worm of a creature. You can't even kill one dirty, wingless fairy. You disgrace the entire draconic race.

I never wanted to be like him. I never wanted to kill innocents to satisfy my own desires. All the power in the world wasn't worth becoming that type of monster. But I needed that power now, to save innocents. To save my friends. I needed to change into a beast to keep them alive.

What if I went too far? What if I couldn't control myself? If I killed my friends, wouldn't it be worse than if I'd just failed to save them? Could I live with myself either way? Well, if I failed, I wouldn't live much longer. Maybe the others had an escape plan, and none of this mattered. I couldn't assume that. If they didn't have a plan, I had to save them.

Piper was so sure that I would never hurt her or the others, even when I was fighting with my instincts, that she'd risked slapping me in the face. Kyton trusted me so much that he wanted to be close to me in a way no one else ever would, since I was a changeling.

If they were right, if I had the type of control they thought I did, then fledging might just save all our lives. If they were wrong, I would become the monster I'd always feared.

I opened my eyes to see Clastor's snout a few inches from mine.

He scoffed and backed up a little. I thought perhaps you had died already. That would have been a pity. I can't wait to see the look on your face when I rip the head off that fairy boy of yours.

Growling, I stumbled to my feet. The icorits hadn't bothered confiscating my dagger. I drew it and lunged at Clastor.

He skipped aside with a laugh, easily avoiding my attack. Oh look, now the little changeling is coming after me with a little knife. Simply terrifying.

I lunged at him again. Fury burned in my chest, roaring like a living thing. This monster was threatening my friends. Loyal Eva, clever Piper, practical Nissa, caring Kyton--they would all die if I didn't stop this monster here and now. I didn't know what would happen if I fledged, but I knew one thing.

"I'm not a monster, Clastor, and I'll never be one. If that makes me weak, then so be it. At least if I die, I'll die loved instead of hated."

He laughed so hard that he wheezed. We'll see if you still feel that way once you're dying. He crossed the pit in a single bound and back-handed me in the chest.

It felt like I'd been hit by a flying dumpster. I flew back, slamming into the far wall. The breath whooshed out of me. Gasping with pain, I struggled to push myself up the wall.

Clastor hit me again, this time in my bad arm. I passed out, and when I came to, my arm burned worse than before. My whole body shook as I fought to sit up. My dagger had fallen a few feet away. I stretched out my hand, but I couldn't reach.

His laughter echoed through the pit, rattling around my brain. Was this how I was going to die, alone and humiliated by a monstrous lizard?