19
THE BLONDE GIRL OPENED her eyes. They fluttered, bloodshot orbs lulling in dark pits, then closed once more. Her mind swam in the black, eyelids keeping out the nightmare, hoping this was just part of the Dance.
But she knew it wasn’t.
She let the dim light in once more. Panic raised her heart rate until she realized a cot and recessed lighting weren’t typical features of a grave.
All she remembered of her Dance was a phasing figure, shifting from angel to demon, wings of downy feathers morphing into stretched leather claws. He sprayed her with dragon urine, filling the bucket of her prison with his waste.
Or was it only water?
She screamed into the ceiling until her throat was raw, the dirt absorbing the sound. The girl crumpled into a ball in the muck, mud soaking through her je
