Chapter 2 #2
The stones crunched and creaked as they rearranged before our eyes, wings sprouting, a head forming with jagged stone teeth, and a long tail emerging and whipping right toward us. I pushed Cillian behind me, heart hammering.
“Well, you don’t see a tower turn into a dragon every day,” Cillian mused right as I tackled him to the ground, shielding him with my body. Cillian would be crushed to death if I didn’t do something.
“We need to run!” I roared, the stone tail skimming over our heads.
Cillian peeked out from underneath me. “How do you think it moves like that when it’s made of stone? And what godwitch is responsible for this? Truly extraordinary—”
I braced my legs as the dragon stomped toward us, bits of stone chipping and barreling toward the ground. This fucking mission was going to get him killed. I’d told him it wasn’t worth it. All for a woman who likely didn’t even exist.
“We’re leaving,” I said.
“No!” Cillian stepped out in front of me just as the dragon’s mouth snapped dangerously close to his neck. I yanked him back and began dragging him away.
The tower was protecting whoever, or whatever, was inside, so all we needed to do was leave. It couldn’t follow us. I glanced back at its hulking form. The dragon was now perched and staring with its blank stone eyes. At least I didn’t think it could follow.
Cillian wrenched his arm from my hand, turned, and sprinted back toward the dragon.
Damn it all to the godwitches. I yelled after him, but it was too late. The dragon swiped a paw, picking up the High Prince of Fairwitch Isle, and my entire body turned cold.
This was something I was adept at—not panicking, not spiraling or losing my mind, just going cold. No feeling or emotion hit me. Instead, a sense of purpose took over and a plan formed as I stalked toward the stone beast that clutched my prince in its paw.
“Okay, this is actually starting to hurt.” Cillian squirmed in its tight grasp, his hood falling off his head to reveal his thick, shiny black hair.
I pushed down any rising panic, reminding myself I had a job to do, and I would do it.
Sword raised, I approached the monster. A sword would do no good against stone, but I didn’t need my weapon.
I just needed to draw the tower’s attention long enough that it would let go of Cillian and we could get the fuck out of here.
Then I’d never let Cillian leave Fairwitch again.
I’d also have a strong word with that fortune teller if I ever found them.
I stopped in front of the dragon, and it whipped its head in my direction, then lifted one of its giant paws and slammed it into the ground. I dove out of the way as stone met ground with a thundering crash that rattled my teeth.
A slow smile spread across my face. That was it. I didn’t have to destroy this tower. It would destroy itself.
I jumped in another direction, its other paw slamming down and shattering into rocks that flew everywhere.
The dust was so thick I could no longer see Cillian. I couldn’t see much of anything. But a scream wrenched through the air.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. I couldn’t lose another brother.
Bile churned in my gut as I imagined Cillian crushed under all that stone. Chunks of it fell from all directions, rock crumbling around me, the ground quaking. I ran toward the tail of the dragon.
“Back here,” I yelled.
The tail came thumping down as I dove out of the way, and another resounding crash boomed.
A distant scream echoed again, and I shot to my feet, trying to navigate through the thick cloud of dust that had risen like a fog. A block of stone broke through the dust, flying straight for my head, and I ducked right before it hit me.
“Cillian!” I shouted. “Can you hear me?”
The tower was almost completely destroyed, limping on two legs, most of its body chipping and crumbling away. It wouldn’t be able to do much damage in its current form.
Papers and book spines fluttered through the air, and I could’ve sworn I got a glimpse of an armchair and a rug peeking out from the rubble. What in the godwitches had that tower been protecting? Or hiding?
“Cillian!” I yelled again, panic icing my veins.
“Yes,” came a weak reply, and my heart stuttered. It was hard to hear through the thundering stone around me, but it was a response. Relief swept through me at knowing my brother was alive.
“Keep talking!” I yelled, grabbing my shirt and covering my nose and mouth to keep from inhaling all the dust.
“Here,” he said, his voice almost undetectable amongst the roar of crunching stone.
I had to strain to hear what direction it was coming from. “Where?” I asked, but there was no reply, or if there was, I didn’t hear it.
Damn. Damn. Damn. I needed to find him.
I made my way through the carnage, rock crunching under my boots, toward where I thought the voice had come from, just able to make out a figure through the dancing grey motes. The thick haze of dust made it nearly impossible to see, every step I took resulting in crackling and more dust rising up.
Another chunk of stone flew by my head, and I ducked at the last minute, watching it crash to the ground, joining a pile of stone taller than me. Chunks of rock fell from the sky like raindrops, and I had to move fast to avoid getting hit, stumbling over the carnage.
“Cillian,” I said, rushing toward his murky figure and grabbing his arm. I heaved him up to throw his limp form over my shoulder, but it was only when I drew him through the dust and closer that I realized it wasn’t the prince at all.
It was a woman, unconscious. Her flaming red hair flowed down her back, her thick blue dress torn and covered in dust, a small book clutched in her hand. I stared at her in awe.
Cillian had been right. She actually existed.
“I was right,” a weak voice said from beside me, and my head snapped in the direction of Cillian, who was bloodied, bruised, smiling like a fool, and, most importantly, alive. “We found her, and now I’m going to marry her and save our home.”