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"Charlie—" Zaide began, now realizing the situation.
"Yeah, I know. Big fucking dragon. That's why we’re running. Get with the program, and let's get the fuck out of here."
“I don’t think the dragon is, as you say, with the program,” he said calmly as the dragon began making its way to us. Witches struggling to contain it with magic were batted away with wings and tail. It niggled at me, the way they seemed more energetic and were able to use magic, considering they had drained themselves.
Had Clawdia’s magic fed them too?
But with a dragon approaching, I concentrated on moving away as fast as I could while carrying my familiar. If only she’d been able to turn into her cat form, I would’ve been much faster.
A gust of fire swept in front of me, and I stopped so suddenly I almost tumbled backward. The flame nearly singed off my eyebrows.
Shit balls.
Zaide grabbed my collar and pulled me back before turning us toward the toilet block to hide behind.
“Good thinking.” I said as I rearranged Clawdia in my arms, trying not to groan. “How are you feeling?”
He leaned against the back of the portaloo and closed his eyes. “Weak. Like I’m down to my last bit of energy and this is a dream.”
I nodded and grimaced.
Behind us, the dragon roared, and heat gust around us. The smell of burning plastic filled my lungs, and I coughed and gagged. Some things should never be warmed, and one of those things is portaloos. “What the fuck is his problem?”
I peeked my head around to see the dragon, still focused on where we were hiding, but now its legs were contained by witches surrounding it, holding it down with magical chains, ropes, anything they could conjure.
But any witch stupid enough to get close to his mouth was gobbled up and chomped on like they were nothing more than a snack. As much as I didn’t like these witches, it was hard to watch them roll around in an open dragon mouth.
“He doesn’t seem to want us to escape. Perhaps he wants his reviver.”
“Clawdia?”
“I realize you were voted most handsome at school Charlie, but I don’t think the dragon is interested.” He smirked.
“You’re joking? Now?” I exclaimed. Did losing his magic affect him this badly?
“You usually like humor with your traumatic experiences.”
I shook my head with a small smile and refocused the conversation. “What does he want Clawdia for?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I don’t think he is going to make our escape easy.”
“They never do.” I looked around. “What distracts a dragon?”
The dragon in question broke through the magical bonds holding him still and roared, flames blown far and wide, hitting trees, bushes, and witches. He twisted his big body, and his tail smacked the portaloo. The rest fell like dominoes, revealing us backing away.
Debs must have noticed because she shouted, “Get the prisoners. He wants them. Maybe it will calm him down.”
“Is she not fucking dead yet?” I growled.
We were definitely still cursed with bad luck.
“Apparently not.” Zaide moved into a battle-ready position, a state I have never seen him in before. It looked just as natural on him as his wise-religious-yogi persona. It was terrifying. As the eyes of the surviving witches turned to us, determination glittering in their eyes, I stepped back, clutching Clawdia closer. “I will protect us. You protect her.”
He didn’t see me nod because suddenly, they were attacking, their hands full of magic poised to hurt, maim, and capture. But nothing happened. In the blink of an eye, Zaide had snatched the hand of the closest witch and thrown her into the others. They all tumbled down like bowling pins.
My mouth dropped open. “Jesus Christ, if I wasn't straight, I would be turned on.”
He turned to me with a devilish smirk. “Stop admiring me and start running.” And then he grabbed another witch approaching from behind and threw her into the open mouth of the approaching dragon.
