The Dream Keeper's Dragon

37. I'm Going To Kill Him

Aurelie stood by the window and looked over the back garden while some of the witches on duty grew vegetables for breakfast. Birds chirped outside, and the sun highlighted the mountain in gold.

Sasha stepped down into the garden and gathered a basket from one of the girls. Elise, a caramel-skinned witch with puffy black curls and eyes yellow as a cat's cupped a yellow tomato flower in her hand. Her lips moved, and a green pip formed out of the center of the flower. The small, green fruit grew, turning yellow, and finally, a ripe red tomato filled her entire hand. She plucked it and placed it in the basket beside her that had already been filled with peppers and onions for the morning omelet.

A sadistic laugh echoed from below the floor. Aurelie gritted her teeth and felt nagging anger in her chest. She had tried her best to ignore him all morning. In fact, the reason she currently stared out into the garden was to calm herself down with the peaceful morning routine of the inn.

He had kept her up half the night, with his laughter, screams, or both. Her lids were heavy, and her body swollen. She straightened her dress and made her way down the steps, counting down from a hundred in her head to settle the anger and keep herself from outright killing him.

People were gathered around the entrance to the basement where Daerious had tied up their prisoner. His hyena hoots reinstated a headache she had only just slept off. Aurelie pushed through the crowd of meddlesome residents and leaned against the door frame. Daerious stood over the man, his fist bloody. The prisoner was bleeding from the mouth, and his right eye was barely able to open. He laughed, spitting out drops of blood.

Aurelie tapped her foot, her hands folded. One more sound from the man, and she would smash the basement doors to pieces. She was in one of those moods again, and today, she knew exactly who to take her rage out on. "This is clearly not working, Daerious. Can you at least shut him up? I can't stand it," she said the last part through clenched teeth.

Daerious's head spun to her. Large bags hung below his eyes. "Good morning," he said and rubbed his bloodied hand along his pants.

"No, it isn't," she replied and pushed herself off the doorframe, slowly approaching the prisoner. "Do you know what happens when I lose my temper?" she asked him, eyes blazing with fire. The fire was natural now. She did not need to call upon her eyes to glow.

He laughed again, the noise slashing into her eardrums.

"Very well then, let me show you," she said, her hand blazed with fire, climbing as high as her elbow. She lifted it toward her mouth and blew. The fire swirled and stopped inches from his face. She heard the sizzle of his beard as it melted. Ash fell onto his shirt and pants.

She let the fire slide from her hand and surrounded the chair that he was bound to.

"Do you see now?" she asked.

"Who are you?" Daerious asked, trying his luck. He kicked out and caught the man's shin. The man gritted his teeth through the pain and shook his head, stubbornly declining to answer.

They tried to gain information from him each day for the next week, but he always refused to tell them anything. His body was clear of bruises from Daerious's fist, dagger, or burns from Aurelie's fire.

Groshal stepped forward a couple of times and forced the air out of the room until the prisoner's face turned blue, but still, he remained silent.

Sasha tended to his wounds every day after they had finished with him, trying to keep him alive as best she could. It was growing harder as their patience wore thin and the supply of herbs grew scarce.

It was as if he had become numb to the pain. He had even started laughing when Aurelie set him on fire. Each day she had to control herself more. She wanted to go back on what she had said and end his life to get away from his constant maniacal laughter. It followed her everywhere. She had grown so used to it that she even heard it in her head when she was outside attempting to practice her fire.