“It knows you,” Astrid commented, her voice filled with wonder.
“It seems so,” Benedict said slowly, patting the monstrous finger in front of him softly. The creature calmed, laying back down on the ground with one eye on Benedict.
“Did you ever have any drakens captured during the Demon Wars?”
Shocked silence filled the cavern, horrible realization settling into our chests. Astrid couldn’t possibly be suggesting that—
“It could have been a botched ritual, or the demons are experimenting with magicks we haven’t even considered.” Astrid paced the confines of the lava tube, her hair askew as she rhythmically ran her hands through it, deep in thought. Her hands deftly braided and unbraided her hair in nervous anxiety. The creature sniffed and murmured happily against Benedict, unnerving the draken king.
“Is it possible the fire and blood witches have been corrupted by the demon hordes? That they are working for the demons and creating these...monsters?” Kieran asked, and Astrid shook out her long mane of hair.
“I don’t want to consider the implications,” she replied. Benedict turned, a determined fire growing in his eyes.
“Demons don’t wield shifting magick, but the blood witches do! It seems awfully suspicious you’ve lost contact with both groups of witches while new creatures attack us and wreak havoc on Dorea!”
“I KNOW THAT!” Astrid roared back, and the creature growled in warning. The walls of the tube shook, the temperature increasing to an almost unbearable level. Benedict flew up to eye level and put a calming hand on the creature’s hardened head.
“This creature was not a draken. A draken would never destroy their own people. They would DIE first!” Benedict argued, even as the large creature sniffed out a trail of embers from its nose, sending them scattering across the floor. Astrid rolled her eyes.
“If a draken was tortured, magicked, then tossed enraged into a volcano, he wouldn’t need to have been conscious of it! His very presence could have set it off! There is no other explanation for why the creature would know you!”
“You said it was a magical eruption,” I reminded them again, and they went silent.
“A draken wouldn’t murder his own people,” Benedict murmured again, but quietly, as if he were trying to convince himself. The creature let out a sad sound, curling up into a large ball that almost filled the chamber.
“Why don’t we just ask him?” I put forth, thinking it was rude to keep talking about the creature as it wasn’t there. The witches eyed me with incredulity, but I saw a brief flash of gratitude in Benedict’s eyes. I gestured for Benedict to do the honors. He gazed up at those black eyes, and the creature's large palm extended towards him. He stood as the creature raised him to eye level, and he put both hands against the massive forehead.
“What happened to you?”
The large, black eyes roved over them, settling with anger on Astrid. A blackened hand reached out and snatched her into the air, bringing her face right to the creature’s eyes. It turned Astrid upside down and she shrieked as it examined her closely. Then it rubbed ash and soot into the witch’s hair, turning it black while ignoring Astrid’s screams of indignation. When her hair and skin were completely covered, it set her down.
“What the hell was that for?” Astrid sputtering angrily, trying in vain to brush the ash from her hair. I smiled, understanding immediately.
“It told us who did this to her.”
The other air witches winced.
“I assume blood witches have dark hair?”
The witches glared at me, but I merely smirked. I blamed Benedict for picking up on his bad habits.
“Let’s go get a blood witch, shall we?”
Seven
Vela thought the creature in the volcano would be fine if left alone, but Benedict was firm that if there was even a chance it was a draken, then we owed it to him to find a blood witch for an explanation. It took a few days until we were ready to depart, and even then, Benedict insisted that several things had to happen first. The southern valley was a hive of activity—drakens and air witches working together to build while earth witches raced around, raising new vegetation on rotating shifts. The plans were drawn out, favoring treehouse structures with only a few made from stone and mortar to start. The building projects kept everyone busy and filled with purpose, rather than thinking of the army that lurked at the edge of our wards, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness.
Ronan continued to heal, but still experienced lingering weaknesses. A steady diet of blood from the three of us had helped, but he tired easily after working on the rebuilding each day.
“You’re doing what you can,” I insisted, as I saw him easily get frustrated after needing yet another break.
“I want to contribute. I don’t want to be known as the weak mate.”
“Who is saying that?” I demanded, rising to my feet. Anyone who thought Ronan was weak would answer to me.
“Sit down, Wren. It isn’t like that. I just...I know Benedict will likely force me to stay behind when you leave to find the witches. I am more of a hindrance than any help right now.”
I rolled my eyes, exasperated.
“Yes, because to drakens your worth is measured by how much blood you shed.”
He frowned, and I sighed in exasperation.
“Have you considered that Benedict might have a reason for you to stay behind? Someone has to be in charge if he’s gone, don’t they?”
Ronan’s ears perked up, and I hoped I was right. I would hate to give him any kind of false hopes.
“I was surprised when Benedict insisted on going himself, and even more shocked that he is allowing you to go.”
I straightened, raising my chin in defiance.
“He has no choice. If
