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He’s literally compacted himself into the smallest shape possible to fit in a pen he could knock over with a deep breath if the walls weren’t so sturdy.

“Fucking bastards.”

My anger flares like the flames in my hand, but I manage to restrain myself. There’s no time to dwell on their abusive caretakers. I need to help these dragons. And as much as I want to set this entire place ablaze, I have to focus on freeing their minds before anything else.

If connecting with them is even a possibility given the pitiful state they’re in.

Inhaling a deep breath, I push aside the rage boiling within me and concentrate on the task at hand. I concentrate on my dragoncaller abilities, reaching out and trying to link with the first dragon. Sweat beads along my brow as I struggle to pierce through the mental fog induced by eyril and starvation.

The dull, nearly silent mind is disoriented by the tentative connection.

The dragon’s head sways on his limp neck, confusion rippling through him.

I push harder, firmly but gently.

I focus on the feeling I experience when I engage with Chirean, Dame, Tanwen, Kaida, Mygist, Nailah, Ryu, and the others. Each one is different, yet also the same, the bonds built on respect and friendship, on a willingness to work together to better our lives.

Confusion, fear, and pain trickle into me, those debilitating emotions all that he feels.

I keep sending him the plethora of warm emotions I’ve shared with other dragons, and how much I would like to share those feelings with him as well.

Second by precious second, I channel every ounce of concentration into creating a connection.

Minutes tick by, and more sweat drips down my back and check. Just when I’m starting to despair, I finally break through.

The moment the bond smacks in place, the fog evaporates. No time to celebrate, though, because now I have a bigger problem on my hands.

An angry dragon crammed into a pen that’s far too small.

The dragon roars, eyes blazing with newfound awareness. He thrashes in the cell, furious and still disoriented. After slamming his head against the stone walls repeatedly, the metal muzzle locking his massive jaw shut breaks open and hits the ground with a thud.

My heart races as I quickly realize this dragon I am faced with doesn’t understand that I’m here to help.

Ziva save me.

I dive out of the way as a massive tail swings toward me.

The dragon curls its lips.

His only warning.

Lunging forward, he snaps his powerful jaws. I dart to the side.

Inches. I’m only inches away from being skewered by razor-sharp teeth.

Adrenaline surges as I scramble to find a safe position. At the same time, I try to maintain our tenuous mental link, hoping to calm the terrified creature.

“Easy. I’m here to help you.”

I think of the other dragons I’ve freed, my joy at seeing them fly away, free.

Freedom is waiting.

I channel those emotions through the tentative bond.

The dragon hesitates for a moment, bewilderment flickering across his triangular face. His frills fluff and relax.

I seize the opportunity, strengthening our connection and allowing him to feel the sincerity of my emotions.