Firedrake the Firelord

Chapter 27

"Willyn?" Shane asks.

"Yes, Shane," I answer annoyed. "Did you listen to any of my speech about being a princess?"

"Eh," he replies.

I groan. "You're an idiot."

"I know," he smiles. "So, what do we do?"

I have to stop to think. What do we do? I really need to find Ethan and make sure he's ok, but if Willyn knows about me and is actively trying to stop me...

I don't want to finish the thought.

"I-I'm not sure," I answer him.

"Willyn is after us, Elliot. Is it really a question about what we should do?"

"Yes!" I exclaim. "What about Ethan? I don't want him to die just because I didn't go to him."

"For all we know, Elliot, he could already be dead," Shane says forcefully.

"Don't say that, Shane," I tell him.

"Don't say what?" he asks. "The truth? We don't know if he's still alive. You don't know Finnick like I do. He probably took Ethan so you would come to save him."

"And that's what I plan to do," I tell him.

"You didn't let me finish," he replies. "He took Ethan so you would come. Not caring about Ethan's life, he probably killed him. He figured that you would come and he could capture you and you'd be too depressed to do anything about it."

I take a moment to stop and think about what he said. It's possible that's the case.

"But what if that's not true?" I ask him desperately. "What if Ethan is still alive and being beaten or something even worse?"

He groans in frustration. "Do you even hear yourself, Elliot? All you're saying are-"

He is interrupted by a groaning sound. It is coming from the direction Weston went. We look at each other with fear in our eyes.

"Run!" Shane whispers frantically. "Go!"

I take off at a sprint in the opposite direction of the noise with Shane right behind me. Too scared to look back or stop, I don't notice that the woods are getting darker. The trees grow closer together and the birds no longer sing. I also don't realize that the patter of feet and the shallow breaths behind me have stopped. I just keep running. Until I hear someone.

"Where are you running off to, princess?" an eerily familiar voice asks me.

Almost immediately, I stop running. I look around but see no one. It's too dark to see almost anything.

"Scared, princess?" the silky but bitter sweet voice asks.

I swallow a lump off fear.

"No," I lie with as much assurance and confidence as I can muster.

There is a laugh. It is the coldest and harshest laugh I have ever heard. It paralyzes me with fear. I can barely breathe or think. Yet, there is a small voice in my head telling me something.

Do not be afraid. This is your destiny. Focus and concentrate. Do not be afraid.

The voice is small, but it's there. It gives me a surge of power and confidence. Adrenaline has replaced my blood.

Not adrenaline, the voice in my head says. It is magic.

M-magic? No way. I know that there is magic in me, but there is no way it is my blood. I don't want to trust this voice in my head, but something tells me it would be the wisest thing to do.

Another surge of power goes through me. No time to think. I just need to act.

"Show yourself!" I demand of the voice.

Another cold-hearted laugh splits through the air. This time, though, I am not afraid. I can still think clearly. I stand my ground and demand of it to show itself again.

"As you wish, princess," it replies smugly.

Suddenly, it isn't longer dark. It is as though someone has turned on the sun. I look around and see that I am no longer in the forest, but in a stone room. The room is circular. There are no windows, no stairs, no chairs, no trunks, no crates, no tables, nothing. There are not even lights. No person either. No animals, no plants, not one other living thing of any sort. This confuses me, as the voice had to come from somewhere.

"Show yourself," I demand, yet again.

"Turn around," the voice whispers.

I jump and turn around. When I do, I come face to face with another female.

"Who are-" I begin. She looks about the age to be my mother. She looks just like my mother as well. Almost like twins, except my mother would not wear what she is wearing. The lady is wearing a long, poofy blue dress that has long sleeves with icicles on it. Icicle earrings dangle from her ears. She wears white gloves on her hands and her feet are not visible. Her brown hair has been pulled back into a tight bun. On the top of her head is a crown. I gasp when I realize who she is. "Willyn."

"Hello, dear Elliot," she says with a smile that might convince you that she is not as vicious as she is known to be. "I've been expecting you."