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Thank Christ.
I let out a sigh of relief.
She was breathing. And doing the same to Zaide, I celebrated the small win that we were all still alive. Then I turned my attention to what the fuck was happening and how the hell I was going to get us out of here.
The witches were in disarray, screaming and running. I didn’t know if they were scared because Clawdia had managed to do something with her magic, or if they were panicked for some other reason. Maybe they hadn’t realized how this would play out and were terrified by what they’d done. Either way, they weren’t paying any attention to us now, which was the only pro to this.
I caught the shouts of a particular bitch …witch… above all the other wordless screams. "He is rising. This is normal. Everyone, be calm."
Shit. Had the drain provided enough magic to revive him?
I looked back at the passed-out soul pair.
How powerful were they?
Just as the witches calmed themselves and began to gather in the center to wait for the protector to rise, a quiet descended. Even the birds in the trees seemed to stop as they waited.
A crack in the ground sounded like gunfire in the silence, but still, no one moved. My heart beat like crazy. I felt sick.
Then the screaming started again.
A head popped out of the ground. Not a human head. Not the head of a centuries-old protector like we’d all expected. No. That would be too easy.
A fucking dragon.
A dragon surged out of the crack like a zombie on speed, crawling over rubble and pulling itself out of its grave. Its whole body was a sparkly green and orange canvas, with big yellow eyes wildly scanning the area, looking for something.
Holy fucking shit. Was this the dragon that Sigurd killed in the myth?
I turned back to my familiar and friend and shook them again.
"Zaide, mate. You need to wake the fuck up because we really need to go." His head lolled around, and a flash of fire had me dropping him to turn around to watch the dragon barbequing witches.
Go dragon!
"Put out the fire. Create shields," Debs shouted. "Contain the dragon. Find the protector."
I was shocked to see so many of the witches sticking around to deal with the dragon. I would have done a fucking runner already, but clearly these people didn't have a lick of common sense or an ounce of self-preservation.
As witches surrounded it, the dragon started batting its wings, and the gusts were enough to push me away. The screams of witches falling back, getting blown over rocks, bashed against trees, smashed into bushes, were like music to my ears.
Better be careful what you wish for, stupid witches. Can’t handle a fucking dragon, can you? Bet they forgot to mention that side effect of raising your precious protector.
Speaking of whom, I hadn’t actually seen him yet. I wondered if he got crushed when the dragon escaped.
“Clawdia.” Zaide drew my attention back to him. He rubbed his head and blinked slowly. “Screaming.”
“Don’t worry about it. Listen, we need to get out of here. Can you run?”
“I can try.” He didn't seem totally with it as he struggled to sit up. His eyes were unfocused, but I knew there was no way I could carry his giant arse if he couldn’t run on his own. He looked me up and down. “Can you carry her?” Zaide asked.
I scoffed, “Of course I can.” Because you need to fake it until you make it when you're standing in front of a giant otherworlder with biceps that could crush watermelons. “Let’s go.”
I scooped up Clawdia in the manliest and most swoon-worthy way. I didn’t struggle or groan and my arms didn’t tremble. And that’s the truth.
When I looked up, trying to use what I now knew was my witch heritage to find the way to the car, I noticed a large yellow eye focused on me. I froze.
Why is the dragon staring at me like that?
