Chapter Fourteen - The Dragons
Cyrene
I sit with Minerva in her posh loft in LA, enjoying the beautiful view. We sit at a table as her butler serves lemongrass tea that she insists I drink.
“Minerva, I can never picture you living in a place like this,” I say.
“Where do you picture me?” She asks.
“Somewhere in a forest, in a treehouse maybe, brewing potions and stuff,” I say, laughing at my own stupidity.
“Look at you,” she says. “You are laughing. Looks like you have learned to sail through the storm. I never expected that, I am so surprised.”
“I suppose,” I say. “I am still afraid of this whole dragon mate thing. I have barely learned to accept myself as a witch and now I am on the way to being a dragon and a mother.”
“I always knew you would do great,” she says. “Becoming a dragon, having an eternal mate is really one of the best things one can ask for and from what I can tell, you have quite a good mate.”
“But turning into a dragon, the conversion, all that bloodshed…”
“It’s overrated, really,” she says. “Call Dell over and I will do it for you now.”
“What?” I say, unable to believe. “Really, Minerva, you?”
“I have done that a lot of times,” she says. “I know quite a lot of dragons, have performed many conversions.”
“But Dell said he needs to cut my arm, mix his blood with mine, do a bathing ritual to purify me…”
Minerva waves her hand dismissively. “Those are just rituals, all you need is the blood transfer and given your state, the sooner you do it, the better.”
“I thought I’d do it in the end, you know, before the babies are born.”
“Cyrene, you see, carrying dragons isn’t easy for a human body. It takes quite a toll. Dragon eggs are to be carried by dragons only. Only a dragon body is capable of that. Human bodies are too fragile.”
“Say no more,” I say. “This stuff is haunting. I’ll call him now.”
I dial Dell’s number and ask him to come over. He shows up within the hour and when I tell him Minerva can do the conversion, he tells me about his rituals and all, about doing it properly in the dragon kingdom. Minerva shushes him.
“There is no need for all that drama, Delindor.” Dell looks up as Minerva calls him by his dragon name. “Don’t look so surprised, I know your parents as well.”
“So, how do we do this your way?” Dell asks.
Minerva brings a syringe and shows it to Dell, speaking to him like talking to a baby. “I draw your blood with this and inject it into her arm. It is that simple and you can do your own rituals later. In her state, you know as well as I that we should have done it a month ago when her second trimester began.”
“She wanted to wait,” says Dell. I nod in agreement.
Minerva draws Dell’s blood and the syringe fills up with a dark, viscous liquid.
“Okay, you need to lie down for this,” she says to me, urging me to lie on the sofa. “This is going to hurt.”
I cradle my belly protectively with my right arm, my instincts warning me against it, but I tell my instincts to shut up as Minerva pushes a needle into my left arm.
“This goes straight to the heart,” she says.
I feel it instantly, the second his blood mixes with mine. My body starts growing warmer as a pain begins to shoot through my arm. I feel my babies become restless. I look at my arm and see my veins become suddenly visible, turning black as if filled with ink. It starts going up, all the way to my neck, reaching for my heart. Then it starts hurting more, my head throbbing. I try to get up and fall back down.
“What’s happening?” Dell asks.
“I don’t know,” Minerva says.
“Help,” I say, my voice growing hoarse. “I can’t breathe.”
My lungs contract, waiting for air. They are unable to get any.
“Help her!” Dell looks to Minerva. She walks to her kitchen, gathers a few herbs and makes a potion, pours it into a cup and forces it down my throat.
“Drink up, Cyrene,” she says, pouring a bitter liquid down my throat, but I can’t drink it. I can’t even breathe. I can’t move. My body grows stiff.
“Hold her,” she says to Dell. Then she pinches my nose and pours the contents of the cup in my mouth. “The potion needs to get into her body, bring her in the upright position.”
The potion feels like acid as it trickles down my neck.
“What have you done?” Dell looks at Minerva accusingly.
She shakes her head. “Your blood is too strong, her body is fighting it. The potion should help.”
“What do you mean “should help”?”
“I can’t guarantee it will work. I am trying. Let me focus.”
But I know it is too late for me as my vision begins to blur.
“Save the babies,” I manage to whisper.
The last thing I see is Dell beginning to shift. My eyes widen with horror. This has all gone horribly wrong.
Minerva flicks her wand and creates a protective bubble around herself. Dell pounces at her. She claps her hands over her head, letting a blue spark fly, disabling Dell, making him fall to the floor.
My heartbeat rises and begins to sink. My eyes close themselves as I descend into darkness.