The thrashing stopped. The violent lashing of its tail, which had been cracking the stone like whipcord, suddenly went limp.
The dragon stood in the center of the containment zone, its massive head drooping slightly, its eyes glazed and vacant. It didn't look like a monster anymore; it looked like a mountain that had suddenly forgotten how to be solid.
"It's working," Diana whispered.
Her voice was unnervingly quiet, the kind of silence that precedes a storm. She didn't lower her bow; her eyes remained locked on the dragon's massive, pulsing right shoulder.
"But don't celebrate yet... It's just... empty."
"The right wing," Lily breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Status?"
"Still folded," Diana replied, her knuckles white against the bow. "But it's twitching."
"It's like a muscle trying to remember how to move without a brain... Watching it... Watching it..."
