Chapter 11: Spasm

A horrified gasp ran over the council. Christine felt as though she was watching from outside her body, for this soft human thing was not her body. The smell of foul magic filled her mouth and nose, pulling her down, down to the ground.

Someone projected: Freak! She cannot be one of us if she transforms like this!

Near her, Erik was on the edge of panic. She could feel the invasive mind battling with his for control. But Erik was Erik, and he was not invincible. He could not fight this foreign being and a powerful spell at the same time.

She was pulled back to her body as pain flooded over her, and she screamed. Her bones felt too large for her frame, everything felt out of joint.

Erik withdrew at once. The spell was allowed to run its course, and at last she collapsed, human again. The rocky ground beneath her stabbed into her skin, and she was vaguely aware of the sensation of nakedness. She couldn't move, so she just lay there, face down on the gravel and metallic soil.

What darkness is this? rumbled the leader. Erik snarled with no words, just mindless fury. He would have attacked just then had he not felt something soft by his foot.

Christine… He never had a chance to answer the leader's question. The dragons around them leapt at the two, ready to tear them to bits.

Fly, you idiot! Nadir roared, and Erik jumped into the sky with Christine in his front talons. The dragons were not far behind, and there was little time to think. An idea came to him, a risky one, but it was a chance he had to take if Christine was to remain alive.

He headed for slightly north, for the jagged cliffs. They loomed out of splashing foam and fog. The other dragons could see as well as he, but many of them were bigger and less agile. The beast-dragons were lost at the end of the shore, and the leader was wingless. They will not be able to follow. They cannot.

Erik clutched Christine close to him, aware that any attempted landing would damage him keeping her small, fragile self. Behind them, Nadir streamed along, occasionally flicking his tail for steering, and Erik found himself resenting his old friend for not having to fly with the physical effort of wings.

Wings thundered behind them, spread out, to avoid turbulence. He felt his muscles show the first sign of tiredness. Surely they cannot go at full sprint for so long… But then some of them were light and thin, small and fast, almost faster than he.

Nadir. The Perisan dragon shuddered at the cold edge Erik's mental voice had taken on.

Now? There was a pause as they flew straight ahead, on a collision course for the nearing pillars of volcanic stone, jagged and dark. Several sets of wings faltered and some even fell, but he dared not look back.

Now. Down they dove, corkscrewing and dodging as around them, the flying mob crashed into rocks even as they tried to turn back. Roars of pain and fury deafened them. The waves were rushing to greet them, but so was the end of the forest of stone spires. The most agile, the smallest had followed them, but they could not pull up against the cold ocean wind.

More noise behind the fugitives as pursuers plummeted to the water's hungry grasp. Erik pushed hard against the wind, powering himself higher into the sky. With a dismal drop in the pit of his gut, he felt his wings strain against the heavy hand of the sea wind.

He was even more irritated to see Nadir still flowing along nicely, unaffected by nature's rage.

Unleashing said irritation would have to wait until Christine was safe.

…

Christine woke slowly. She was on her back, not a familiar position now. The skin she felt around her was too soft, like wet paper to her mind as her fingers twitched and brushed her knee. All of her felt clumsy and feverish and frail.

She opened her eyes and breathed slowly, and the world came into focus around her.

You live. It was Erik's voice in her head, warm and relieved and tired. At first she thought to reply, but remembered with alarm that now she was back in her spellbound human form.

Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, which tasted dim and dirty. Her voice was a hoarse croak, and her muscles sore with unconscious exertion. "What happened?"

Someone cast a changing spell on you. We do not know who, or how, or why. Nadir was with them. She was aware of the spots of reflected light from his scales playing over the membranes of Erik's wings. Everything was so large, and she was so small and weak.

Do you hunger? Erik asked, and his question warmed her heart. She could not hunt now, and she did not know where they were yet, but still he was willing to attend to her.

"No…" Her breath caught, and she coughed, a horrid, rattling sound. "Water."

There is a small pool a small way away. Can you walk?

"A bit." She swung her uncooperative legs over the rough, warm edge of Erik's leg, wincing at the sandy ground.

Let me assist you. His head swung around close, close enough that she could smell his hot breath. The hollow behind his horns was rough, rippling with muscle. Christine took his invitation, stood, and immediately fell against him.

The air was cold and still, but already the sun was hot against her skin. Erik held his neck low and stepped slowly so she would not fall in the dirt.

Desert surrounded them on all sides, but there was a little grass between her toes now. She lifted her head to look about, and there was indeed a pool of water a few feet away. It was cool and green and she could feel the temperature drop the closer she drew. When the edge was close enough, she released Erik's neck and dropped to her knees in the warm mud.

True to her dragon self, she pushed her face into the water and drank deeply, not bothering with cupping her hands. Despite their desperate situation, Erik rumbled with amusement.

It is good to know you are still dragon at heart, little one.

Her thirst quenched and her vocal cords functioning far better, she turned to him, squatting in the muck. "And I will always be, though I have a human body." Despite her earlier assertion that she was not hungry, her gut gurgled.

Dates, anyone? Nadir laid out a bunch of ripe dates that had been on some palm in the distance.

I pass, Erik growled. Christine, however, readily dug in. The fruit left a chemical dryness in her mouth, and she stopped after her first two.

Nadir hummed. I find you might enjoy them more if they were dried first.

"Erik?" He looked at her for a moment, heaved a mighty sigh, and roasted the fruits with a blast of fire. He could never deny her anything.

When Christine finished her meal of pleasantly caramelised dates, she looked at the black dragon. He was staring off into the distance soaking up the desert sun. The food had gave her enough energy to lean against him and take a place near his head, leaning against his plated chest with her delicate human skin. The sun was beginning to turn her fair complexion red.

Nadir turned aside and rose into the air, looking for another nearby resting place. They could not stay long, not with pursuers surely more persistent than the mob they had witnessed the night before. He did not want to intrude on the private moment his two charges were sharing.

"What is wrong?" Erik grunted low in his throat and adjusted his wings to shade her vulnerable body, avoiding the question. Christine swallowed back her apprehension. "I know you, and I know when you are hurting. Tell me."

He gazed at her balefully, one half of his head lit with the steadily high-rising sun. What are we now?

"What do you wish us to be? Until this spell wears off, we cannot be…more than friends." Her voice trailed off. "That is, if you ever wished us to be together in that way…"

I longed for it. The sudden honesty surprised her.

"You did? But I am so young, I know practically nothing of dragons and culture, I do not know what constitutes…decency."

That never were kind to me when others were not. You seemed to enjoy my company, and then you turned so exquisitely beautiful… I have said too much.

Christine's eyes pricked with tears of loss and hope. If she had advanced, if he had not retreated, they could have been more together than just two individuals. Her heart was dragon, her mind was human, and if she assimilated back into human society, she would never be happy. She would want the sky and the freedom of flight and the wildness of song and dance. She would always want Erik, and she would never have him.

But if this was a spell that could be broken, just as Erik's mere presence had broken a spell once before, she would be happy.

"You have not said too much, Erik. You have said what I wanted to hear. We have to break the spell." Her voice cracked with congestion on the last word.

We must, but how? My magic is limited, based on instinct. I cannot deal in convoluted spells. He laid his head low on the sand, blinking slowly.

"Does Nadir know?"

He will examine you later. Undoing a spell often requires reverse ingredients, reverse commands…and we do not know what spell the caster used. A note of hatred entered his tone, and a growl into his chest. Who is this impudent caster to take you from me so rudely?

Christine leaned against him, soothing his aggravation. "We will solve this, together. And even if we can never break this spell again, I will not leave you."

The promise in her words hurt. Her human life would be short, and he would be lonely after. But for now, they had to savour their time together.

She looked up to the sky, cloudless, endlessly blue. Wanting filled her heart, and in bursts of fiery aches, her body exploded into pain.

…

Raoul trembled on the ground. Giant, crushing feet surrounded him, and he dared not look up. The belt around his waist was heavy with guilt and fear. A veritable gale of warm, smelly breath ruffled his normally neat hair.

Meddling human, you should die for your crimes. You interrupted a council meeting with your foul magic. A muddy brown talon entered his view.

The leader was slightly amused by this pitiful, fearful creature. A mob had chased the outsiders far, but he knew they would escape. They were wilier than most, valuable additions to the northern dragon society. And, after further though, he knew that the black dragon and his white, innocent, human-minded companion deserved their happiness together, just as his own assistant had received hers.

Raoul shivered. He would die now, he would never reach Christine, he would never be missed in the town. He doubted even his brother would attend his funeral. The stone beneath him would be his only tomb.

Rise. You must amend for these crimes. New hope flushed through him at these words. He would not die! At least, not as soon as he thought. He swallowed past his fear-tightened throat.

"What would you have me do?"

Meg, come; guide this human to where the changeling and the outsiders hide. He will break the evil spell. Two severe iridescent eyes glared at him with small pupils, and he started to shake again.

The name of Meg sounded familiar against his ear, and he remembered the story his nurse had told him so long ago, the one of Christine's hatching and the subsequent deaths of the people who delivered her.

The dragon that stepped forward was peculiar to his eyes. She was tapered and shapely like a wolf, plated with scales, wingless. Her eyes glowed amber as she examined him. It was with only a little relief that he noticed she was much smaller than the great brown creature that had trapped him in the cave.

And she was silvery and red, like bloodstained knives. It was eerily beautiful.

Why do you stare, human? Without his noticing, the big brown reptile had slipped away. He only gaped for a bit longer. Do you require sustenance?

It took him a moment to collect himself and regain his voice. "I think I know you. Or I know of you." After all, if it was possible for a dragon like Christine to turn into a human, it was probably possible for a

Perhaps you do, if you are very young. I am young too, perhaps younger than you. Amusement tinged her voice. Then she straightened, sitting up like the regal creature she was. I understand you have a spell to break. We must go.

Her spiked tail wagged with anticipation, and Raoul gulped. He would not like to be in the way of that tail, even if she was only about thrice the size of a horse, puny compared to the leader. Meg looked at him expectantly, and tipped her head to the side. The armoured flaps of her ears flopped slightly, and he was unsure whether to call the movement amusing or be silent. She certainly did not seem opposed to compliments.

She started and bent low in a crouch, as a dog might at the hearth. Well, climb on. Did you think you were going to walk?

He blinked. "Yes, actually." This was all so confusing. He had only been looking for his chance at true love, and now, by all accounts, here he was, about to perform community service and pay his debt to dragon society.

Meg snorted. You'll never keep up that way. Get on.

He assessed the climb up, decided it could not be so hard, and gingerly knelt in the hollow between Meg's neck and shoulders, gripping a blunt spike in front of him for dear life. She, in turn, twitched with irritation, almost throwing him off as her skin rippled over muscles. Calm yourself, it will be easier if you relax and move with my pace.

"I am not-" He was cut off as the wolf dragon bounded out of the cave with rather too much exuberance. The bones of her shoulders rolled and bucked under his feet, throwing him down on his buttocks with a painful thud.

He cringed and struggled into a squatting position where it was possible to balance. This was going to be a very long journey.

…

Christine! Erik stared, infuriated and helpless, as he witnessed a terrifying change. She was shifting and writhing with pain, screaming half with a roar and half with the high strain of her human vocal cords.

For seconds at a time, limbs lengthened and shrunk back, claws and hair and skin grew and retracted, joints and muscle bulged, and all the while she howled. While her face was human, tears streamed down and wet an emerging dragon muzzle.

There was something demented and wild and raging about her dragon's roar, and her human scream was so pitiful that Erik's heart wept. A growl rose in his throat, and he curled protectively around this shifting, crying girl. He hummed a song of peace and sedation. At first it had no effect, but the changes slowed. It was agonising to watch, and it must have been agonising to go through.

At last, she was just human again, shaking and fevered and sweating out more fluid than was good for her. Erik held her up against his side, feeling her shivers. A whimper escaped her raw throat, and she lay against him, limp like wilted grass.

Nadir, who had rushed to Erik when the fit started, hissed with alarm.

What are you doing? Help her! You know about spells! Erik snapped. He responded quickly, because of the desperation in his friend's voice, though not quickly enough for Erik. He sniffed at the magic that still encircled the fragile girl.

The spell is still in place. My best guess is that this was meant to be a permanent spell, but because her heart and mind are now aware of their dragon nature, her body wishes to follow their lead.

Erik's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he curled tighter around the human body that held his love. This was not so painful for her the first time she transformed! Why does it hurt her now? The Persian dragon chose his next words carefully, for he had not witnessed him so upset since their first time in his homeland.

Gustave Daae, who cast the first spell, did it on impulse magic. It was a perfectly natural process, and he intended the spell to be broken. This new spell was not meant to be broken. It is unnatural, and her body rebells against it.

Erik snarled. Nadir flinched. Tell me a way to find the person who cast this, and they will undo it- then pay for their transgressions.

Erik, we have no way of knowing who cast the spell, and we're at the only oasis in this desert for days on end. Christine needs water every day, and time to rest and recuperate, she cannot be moved!

The black dragon gnashed his teeth messily, nipping his own gums and drawing blood. Whoever did this to her will pay dearly. Nadir left him to sit and stew in his thoughts of dismembering and incinerating the unfortunate soul who'd cast the spell. He had his own search ahead of him, a search for information.

…

Raoul almost dropped face first to the ground when they finally stopped moving. Meg had run for almost all the daylight hours and a few more into the night. Thankfully they'd been travelling with their backs to the sun, so his eyes hadn't been strained. He was also thankful his guide was sure on her feet, and knew when he needed to stop for food, or water, or to relieve himself. He was thankful that she knew the best sources of food and water in the barren expanse of grass.

He had learned what plants were edible as a child, of course, but he had rarely had venison since he was an apprentice in his brother's house. He was thankful for the venison. It was good.

Even so, the soreness of every muscle in his legs and back was severe. Meg nosed along his side and nudged him with a paw. What are you doing?

"Ow," he grunted, and rolled over. That was all he managed before his companion yawned, stretching her red maw wide.

Well, time to sleep. She flopped down, sending up a cloud of dust, and curled into a circle.

Raoul looked at the pile of scaliness that suddenly looked far more comfortable than the hard ground. The grass was scarce, and the belt of ingredients he carried was greatly uncomfortable, hard with stones and stems and whatever else the old shaman used.

"Meg."

Hmm? She did not open her eyes.

"Your side looks slightly more comfortable than the rocks. Do you mind if I…?"

Oh. Not at all, she said, and opened her eyes to his look of confusion. He had thought perhaps she would find such contact offensive. Meg felt the need to explain. We sleep in piles in the pack all the time.

He clambered up her back and into the small hollow created by the shape of her body. It was warm, and most definitely more comfortable than the ground.

"How do you know where to go?" Meg closed her eyes again.

The leader watches all under his care. If he had taken that tooth you hold, he would be able to control all under his care too, but he knows the wisdom of withholding power. You, as a human, need spells to control as you wish, but he needs not. He is powerful. He sensed a note of admiration in her tone. Then she added, Do not attempt control over any other. Everything could go horribly wrong.

He grimaced. "You don't need to tell me again. I learned my lesson from…the leader." The title felt foreign on his tongue. Another question tugged at his lips. "Is it hard, being a dragon?"

She was silent for a moment. It is not hard. It would have been harder had I stayed human. Raoul sat up with a victorious grin.

"Ha! So you admit you were human once!"

I was, but I was dragon first. This is my real body, the one I belong in. Raoul laid back again with a huff.

"How?"

It's a very long story. Do you want to hear it?

"I do." Meg took a moment to collect herself.

I had always lived as a human, or so I thought. I was Healer Giry's daughter, and everything made sense. I was an outcast to some, being fatherless. They thought I was a lovechild from some poor mother who didn't want me.

"But how did you end up here?"

As you know now, Healer Giry is actually Magister Giry. She is a criminal to the dragon world, and extremely powerful. The council only tolerates her existence because she helped the one you call Protector. She was his warden and helper when he arrived, for several centuries at least, assuming a different identity every generation.

"What did she do, exactly?"

She stole that tooth you have now. To ensure she would keep it and not be killed, she took a hostage.

"You…" Meg confirmed with a deep sigh.

Me. Or rather, my egg. She cast spells to change my form, make me human.

"She doesn't have to tooth now, I do. You could go back and take your revenge now, if you wished." The dragon lifted her large head and snorted at him.

I have not finished telling the story.

"Well, by all means, continue."

Magister Giry watched over me, and loved me like I was her own child. She had the tooth, and she was invulnerable to dragon-kind for thirteen years as I grew. Then, as an apprentice to a midwife, I went to help in the birth of Gustave Daae's daughter.

"Christine? You were the one who died when Christine was born? Hatched, I mean." He sat up again, this time in amazement.

I did not die, I transformed. The midwife, my mentor, died. There was too much magic in her system, and even my mother did not know how to draw it out. She tried to save her life, I know, I saw. And she tried to hold me close to her heart even when I could not be human any longer.

"You were more than just a hostage to her?"

You must understand, Raoul. When a Magister takes the oath, they swear off children forever, for too many families have fallen because of magically gifted children. To have me was her greatest blessing, a daughter of her own. She loved me, and still does. She loved me when she gave me back to my pack and undid her transformative spells. She gazed at him, intent on getting her message through. Do you understand, Raoul? To love someone is to give them what will make them happy, not just take what you want from them.

Raoul looked back into her reflective eyes. Then he looked back into the sky at the silvery stars. "Yes. I believe I do understand."