She sat up, cracked open her eyes, catching a glimpse of the open cage door and a robed Mertoliage wearing one of those gold masks. The person took out a second mask—this one totally white with eyeholes and a slit mouth—then put it over Dawn’s face, partially obscuring her vision. Dawn didn’t protest—not even as her heartbeat robbed her of breath and words. Through the eyeholes of her mask, she saw another gold-faced Meratoliage appear, but this one had the broader shoulders of a man. He raised up a length of chain, then wrapped it around Dawn’s wrists. Both of them led Dawn out of the cage and onto the ground, walking her toward the bonfire. All the while, Dawn’s pulse skittered. She didn’t feel the dragon in her. Had Lilly gotten it out? How? Mentally pressing down on her rising panic, Dawn thought about how the dragon would sometimes play possum, as if biding his time, knowing that it drove Dawn a little crazy. Was that what he was doing to her now? Or was bitter, betrayed Lilly running around with the world’s most dangerous weapon in her?
