I wished I could close my eyes and forget about the dragon looming over me, about the pain coursing through my arm, about my friends dying on the other side of the village--but that wasn't an option. As long as I was alive, I had to fight. I had to try to save them.

Why? There was no hope of defeating Clastor when I was this weak and armed only with a dagger. Though, "armed" was a loose term, seeing as my dagger was just out of reach. What could I do to win this fight?

I could fledge. It was my only chance. If I fledged, the rush of transformation magic would give me the power I needed to take him down before my wounds stopped me. As a dragon, I would have the strength to defeat Clastor.

A loud bell rang out in the distance, and Clastor raised his head.

He poked my side with a claw, then chuckled when I flinched. Did I just hear the feast bells? Yes, I think I did. Stop fighting. Your friends are gone now.

They couldn't be. I would tell. Somehow, I would know if they were gone. Wouldn't I?

Even if they were gone, I couldn't let Clastor get away with this. He couldn't be allowed to be free to hurt other innocent people.

Why couldn't I fledge? If it was just willpower I needed, I had plenty of that. I wanted to fledge so badly, with all of my-

No, not with all of my being. Even through the haze of pain and hopelessness, I had enough insight to know that I didn't want to be a dragon with all my being. What-ifs swarmed through my thoughts, evading any attempts to squash them.

But whatever questions I asked myself, whatever worries I had, it all boiled down to one question: Could I control my instincts as a dragon? No, it wasn't even that. Did I trust myself, that was the question. The answer was just as simple. No. I didn't trust myself. I didn't trust my genes or my instincts or even my powers.

I wanted to. I wanted to trust that I would never hurt a friend. Before I was thrown in this pit, I didn't think I could ever trust myself as a real dragon. But that was before I saw the cruelty in Clastor's eyes and heard it in his voice as he spoke about the death of people I loved. Even as a dragon, I could never be that cruel.

A shiver ran through me. It buzzed at the back of my skull, raced down my spine, zipped across my shoulders and down my legs.

Are you cold, little changeling? Clastor asked with a snort.

I blocked out his voice. Something was happening to me. It felt like magic, but it was more subtle than I was used to.

Listen to me when I'm talking to you. He jabbed me in the ribs.

The buzz spread to my fingers and toes, even to the tops of my ears. I could almost hear it now, an audible hum. It soothed the pain in my arm.

What's that? What are you doing?

Silver and gold sparks flew around me in a humming, buzzing spiral. They sank into my scales, zipped up my nose and into my mouth. In seconds, all I could see was silver and gold.

Clastor roared. No, this is impossible. You can't be-

The sparks exploded outward in a solid wave, throwing him across the room. I stood on four feet. Four large, clawed feet covered in gold-rimmed silver scales. My left foreleg ached, but the pain wasn't as acute as it had been before. A glance at the wound told me what I already suspected; the gash was healing itself.

Clastor stumbled to his feet, growling. That's impossible.

"Obviously, it's not," I tried to say. The words came out as garbled growls. Rolling my eyes, I switched to thought speech. Unlike when I was wearing the revealer crown, my draconic powers worked perfectly. Obviously, it's not impossible. I just did it.

He charged. Even healed and as big around as a donkey, I was only half as big as him. In a pit as small as this one, that turned out to be an advantage. I dodged his charge and leapt at the trapdoors, which had been left open. It was an easy scramble to get up and out.

Unfortunately, it was just as easy for Clastor to follow suit. I sprinted away through the treehouse village. My friends could be boiling alive right now. I couldn't afford a drawn-out fight with Clastor.

Dodging an especially large tree, I ran out into the clearing that housed the giant pots. A bell was ringing nearby, and icorits were swarming all around. It wasn't for a feast, though. The pots were on their sides, and my friends crouched behind them. Though they'd lost their larger weapons, they'd managed to get their hands on some crossbows and bolts.

Several icorits fell as I ran closer, some struck by arrows and some by Nissa's lightning. I stampeded over several more and leapt over the pots to join my friends.

Radiating shadow, Nissa spun from her post and hit me in the chest with a bolt of lighting. It felt like I'd been zapped by a high-powered electric fence. Shaking my head, I stumbled back.

Ack, what'd you do that for? I asked.

A red blur streaked at my face, and I instinctively jerked back. It collided with my horns in a very soft, concerned way.

You okay, you dragon, why dragon? Not care, you okay, I worry-

Calm down, we're in the middle of a battle. I'm fine. Keep down, you're an obvious target.

Eva flew down to huddle at Kyton's feet. He and the girls were all staring at me, completely oblivious to the fact that icorits were still trying to fire crossbow bolts at us.

"How-" Piper started.

Long story. Explain later. I looked back over the clearing.

Clastor was streaking my way, slower than I'd ran here but much faster than any biped. At this pace, he would reach me and my friends in seconds. If that happened, they would probably end up as accidental--or purposeful--casualties of our fight.

I leapt over the pots, heading straight for Clastor. At the last moment, I darted around him. By the time I'd turned to face him again, he was still skidding to a stop. His tail felled several icorit as he spun around.

He bared his fangs. Even as a dragon, you're weak. Fight me, little changeling.

As you wish. I charged. Hitting him head-on wouldn't end well for me. He was too big and powerful. But I had agility on my side.

Just before we would've crashed, I jumped as high as I could. My legs were springs, propelling me easily over Clastor's head. I landed backward between his wing nubs. Spinning around, I narrowly avoided his fangs as he twisted his neck to snap at me.

He bucked, roared, and tried to bite me, but his armored neck scales worked against him. They clanked together, restricting his movement. He couldn't reach me. With my claws digging into his back, he couldn't throw me off, either. I sunk my fangs into one of his wing nubs, hoping to paralyze him. Nothing happened. Nothing I'd expected, at least. Clastor rolled onto his back, pinning me beneath his prestigious weight.

I struggled to breathe. No matter how much I squirmed, getting out from under him was impossible.

What are you waiting for, little changeling? He laughed. Jumping to his feet, he slammed his foot down on my chest. His claws cut through my scales easily, digging bloody furrows.

Gritting my teeth, I clawed at his foreleg. His scales were too thick to penetrate. All I managed to do was make ugly scratches on them.

He didn't even flinch. You fledged under your own power, and you can't even use that power to save yourself. Spineless excuse for a dragon.

Why did that word--power--ring alarm bells in my brain? Duh. Even before I'd fledged, I'd had a few powers that had served me well in the past. Why wasn't I using them now?

I bared my fangs. Thanks for the reminder. In an instant, I was invisible, scentless, untouchable.

Clastor roared, slicing his claws through the air. I rolled away before he could hit me, all the while maintaining my glamour. Waving his claws and snapping at the air, he raged around the clearing. I retreated by the pots. Silver blood dripped from my chest wounds, and I stretched my glamour to cover the puddles on the ground until the wounds zipped themselves up. Being a fledged dragon had its perks.

It wasn't without its costs, though. I was burning through magic at an incredible rate. Kyton's scent was becoming more tempting by the second.