Page 9 of Cats Never Fly

ButIdidn’t think anyone had summoned me to this cage.No, this was more like a prison.Apparently,Iwas naïve for believing a dragon at the peak of his power would be safe.Whatwas the world coming to?Isighed.

Changesucked.

You’dthink that after all this time of being alive on this earth,I’dbe a bit more accustomed to change.Andusually,Iwas.Whencars replaced horses,Iwas good.Whenthe first vinyl record released,Iwas happy.WhenIcould listen to music on my cell phone,Iwas even happier.Andcentral heating was a luxuryIthoroughly enjoyed; it didn’t matter that my natural body temperature negated the need for it.Butwhen someone discovered a way to kidnap and cage supes?Well, there were limits to whatIwas willing to accept.

Thesilence from all the other people in cages around me was eerily unsettling.Afew sniffles, a groan or two, and the soft hush of breathing broke the quiet, but nothing else.Ourcaptors, whoever they were, hadn’t made an appearance sinceIwoke.

“Hey,”Isaid with a smile to the monkey shifter to my left.

Heshuddered, shook his head, and cringed away from me.Severalpeople hushed me.

Well… okay, then.

Ileaned to the right.

“Hi, there,”Iwhispered to my other neighbor.

Theguy to my right looked at me with big, wide eyes.Hishair was a mop of chaotic curls, making him look rather cherubic.Oh.Hewas adorable.Iwanted to take his cute little cheeks in my hands and give them a squeeze.Ialways felt that way about unicorns, and based on the iridescent shimmer to his curls,Ifigured that was what he was.Hisgaze darted to the far end of the room, to whereIimagined the door was, even thoughIcouldn’t see it.

“Myname isOgden,”Isaid.

Theguy’s mouth opened and closed twice before he swallowed. “Umm…Morgan.MorganRussell.”

Hisvoice sounded hoarse, like he didn’t speak much.Ifhe’d been here a long time and his other neighbors were like the guy to my left—too scared to even whisper hello—he might be a little rusty.

“Hey,Morgan, do you know what’s going on here?”

Someoneacross the aisle hushed us.

“Shutup,” a woman whisper-shouted as she glared at me. “Shutup or you’ll make it worse.”

Ifrowned.

Wewere already in cages.Whatcould be worse?

Although…Isupposed things couldalwaysget worse.Damnit.Ihated whenIjinxed myself.Becausenow thatIthought about it,Irealized there were dozens of ways to make this worse.Theplace could catch on fire, and we’d never be able to escape.Ourcaptors could deny us food.Theycould slaughter us and harvest bits of our bodies to sell.

Thatlast one made me pause.

Imay have lived for a long time already, butIhad no intention of dying now.Notlike this.

Theywouldn’t be that short-sighted or dumb, would they?

Afterall, if they kept us alive, they could harvest our scales or our feathers or whatever else again and again.NotthatIwas knowledgeable about animal husbandry or the agricultural industry—that was more my parents’ purview—butIfigured that was the difference between shearing sheep for their wool and butchering them to eat them.Youcould shear a sheep repeatedly, but you could only eat it once.AlthoughIwas definitely too pretty to be compared with any type of livestock.

Still, ifIwas going to accept that someone had tricked me and captured me,Iwould prefer that they at least be a bit clever.

Ineeded more information.Itusually required a lot of powerful mages in a stable coven to maintain theSupernaturalCouncil’sprisons—complaints about the cost of hiring covens to do that had been all over theSupenetnews articles a few years ago when they changed the correctional system from execution to imprisonment.Iglanced around.Noone was in the concrete room except the prisoners.

“Howmany people are in the coven?”Iasked.

Morgan’sforehead squished up in confusion. “Whatcoven?”

Nowit was my turn to be confused. “Ifit isn’t a coven, who is keeping us here?”

Helifted one of his thin shoulders in a small shrug. “Atroll comes in and checks on us.”

Atroll.Asingle troll.Thatmade no sense whatsoever.