I could feel the next storm coming until Greta announced at dinner that she would retire to her room. She recommended I do the same. Though she did not demand it, I could see the fear in her shoulders as the coming storm reflected in her eyes.
I walked with her to the top of the stairs while the majic that wasn't magic cleaned the table. The struggle to turn from her and let her walk alone raged in my body. Something in her cried out to be held and I yearned to answer it.
As night fell, I paced behind the door to my room. She may not have forbidden me from wandering the castle but I knew she preferred me to stay in my rooms. However, anxiety kept me moving and I could not settle. No longer ignorant of the monster in the castle, I could not stop my mind from questioning where it came from, what magic kept it restrained, where it was the rest of the month.
The storm began to rage outside. A terrible pain tore through my body, as though I was being ripped limb from limb. My roar echoed the monster below, and both were swallowed by the storm outside.
Once the worst of the pain had passed, I climbed to my feet with no memory of having fallen to my knees. I was filled with a horror of the pain and a dread that came with the knowledge that it would only get worse through the night.
I also know, without any doubt, that this pain was tied to Greta. Whatever kept her safe also created a link between my beautiful lady and the monster.
My body moved without thought and I was following the pull to the hidden room. When I turned the corner into the hallway that I could never find during the day, the torches blazed unnaturally bright though they gave off no smoke and no heat. The door opened with an ominous hiss and shut as soon as I was through.
The dragon writhed in its web of fire, snapping and biting at the magic that held it.
Pain and terror built in my chest as I approached. The wave of pain that drove me to my knees was excrutiating and I heard the dragon roar as the web of fire contracted around it and twisted, burning away a layer of green scales that floated away as ash, leaving only a layer of the most delicate pink, as though an eggshell had been filled with fire.
My skin felt burned and raw, tender to the touch, and I watched the scales change color. Slowly at first, but with every panting breath, color flowed up the scales until they were the same green they'd been when I walked in.
I reached out to touch the creature, in awe of the transformation I had just witnessed. Some magic in the web sent a bold of fire across my fingers. My shock at the pain was second only to the voice that came from the dragon.
"Robert," it rumbled. "No."
I looked up. The eyes looking back at me were the most beautiful emerald color I'd ever seen. Clouded with pain and worry, there was intelligence that I had missed the last time, and a fear that wasn't mine flooded through my chest.
"No," I breathed.
I scrambled back, the pain across my fingers a reminder that this was real and not a very vivid dream.
Lights flashed through the room, a strange mix of red and white, before a harsh white light surrounded the dragon in its web of fire. It moved back and forth, over every inch of the monster that my mind refused to think of as anything but a dragon.
The light disappeared and the dragon let out a heavy breath. I waited for flames to shoot out and through the web, but it only laid its head on its feet and closed its eyes. Relief that was not my own started to replace the fear that had dug its way behind my breast.
Then a white light flashed in my eyes and surrounded me. A voice spoke above the hum in a language I didn't recognize, and I tried to move away. My limbs would not obey my commands, not even to simply tremble, until the light moved away.
I collapsed back and the wall behind me rang like a dropped shield. When I turned to look at it, I found it was not a wall but some kind of small door, part of a cabinet that I hadn't seen with my attention focused on the dragon and the magic that surrounded it.
A voice boomed through the room and the dragon hissed and thrashed. I still could not understand the language but something about it nagged at me. It repeated itself, and I could almost recognize the words it was saying, though I did not understand their meaning.
"Human intruder," it said, the words strange but recognizable. "You are an acceptable specimen. Present yourself to the extruder for further confirmation."
I still didn't understand what most of the words meant but the ones I did recognize did not help me with the rest.
Lights came from the floor, creating a path to another part of the room, and I stood. Fear and awe warred within me, and I followed the path laid out to a strange metal statue.
"Remove your clothes and present your limb for testing," the voice demanded.
I stepped back, off the path, and away from the statue in surprise.
It repeated itself and the statue moved.
"I will not," I asserted.
The light surrounded me again and I could not move. My heart thundered in my chest and the statue came towards me, a knife made of flame extended from a strange protrusion and began slicing through the fabric covering me.
Eventually, I stood there before the strange statue, bathed in light, and naked. The knife disappeared and other instruments I could not identify appeared.
I could hear the roar of the dragon in the distant recesses of my mind as I watched small darts shoot into my arms, legs, and chest. The burning terror of the web of fire scorching the scales off the dragon mixed with the fear of my certain death and my mind fled into darkness.
I woke in my bed, naked, with a pair of green eyes watching me from a chair. My muscles were sore, my skin raw and tender to the touch, and there was a bandage over my fingers where I had been burned by the magic web.
Greta stared at me while I looked for my injuries. Though I ached, I could not find any evidence of the piercing wounds I'd taken the night before.
"How long have I slept?" I asked, my voice rough from sleep.
"A few hours," she said. "It is morning still."
"Not days?"
"No," she answered.
"What is that room?" I asked. "It is hidden during the day and the magic that you say isn't magic in this castle has led me to it twice. What is it?"
"I cannot-" she started.
"What is it?" I demanded with a roar. My anger and fear rose through me, bile burning at the back of my throat, as I leapt to my feet. It was tempered by her own fear and a rush of self-loathing that made me pause.
"It was, is, my father's laboratory and the heart of this castle," Greta said, her voice soft and matter of fact.
"And it is not magic," I said and started to pace behind her. I needed to move, force my limbs to obey my commands, remember that I was a man still, and alive.
"No, it is not. Though I still do not pretend to understand how it works."
"Then why can I feel you in my head? My heart? Your emotions are usually so still that I didn't recognize them for what they were at first but now, they pulse alongside my own. What have you done to bewitch me if this is not magic?"
"I do not know," she lied.
I hated that I knew it was a lie. Hated that she felt like she needed to lie to me. I took a breath and pushed my shoulders back before I moved around her and knelt between her knees and my bed.
"You do know," I said. "And I will believe you when you tell me the truth, even if it that your father cast a spell you bind your faithful servant to you for the rest of his life."
She looked at me and a tear trembled at the edge of her eye before falling delicately down her cheek. "You do not deserve to be trapped here with me," she said. "I will do what I can to break the spell and let you leave."
There was a war in my chest as I struggled to demand she break the spell and also to keep me with her. The first tear was followed by a second, then a third, until they were streaming down her face to drip from her chin.
I reached up to wipe them away with my thumbs, the sight of her tears pulling at my heart until I couldn't stand it. A wave of sorrow and desire crashed over me, and I could do nothing else but pull her down into my arms and kiss her.