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can help you. I know that you told me not to help you
    this way, but you are losing ground daily and they’ll catch you soon. She wanted to tell him to

    shut up, that she knew that, but it took too much effort to argue with him again . Emma,
    you need to do as I have said. If you die, all will be lost.
    “Why don’t you do it? I mean, you’re a dragon and all, or so you tell me. I’m sure
    that you’re considerably bigger than me. You break in, get what I need, and come back
    here and fix me.” He told her that he didn’t work that way. “Of course not. You’re this
    all-powerful being and until you get to your owner, you’re just a ring. While I, on the
    other hand, am sick, hungry, and in pain.”
    I’m only partly here in the ring. I am not the ring. You will understand when you return me
    to my owner. My owner will know what I’m about. There are more of us too, as I have said. Once
    we are all together again, we will be powerful. Emma had heard that before too. How there
    wasn’t just the ring but an entire set of shit that this dragon was stuck in. At this point,
    she just didn’t care anymore.
    She moved to the door again, the one at the back of the building, and shoved her
    weak body against it. She was surprised when it gave, like she’d really done some
    damage to it. Then Emma saw that it wasn’t locked. The turnkey that held it locked at
    been left undone. Moving into the building, she was surprised to find it was some sort
    of office, a series of offices.
    A doctor works here and an artist, I think. I can smell paints and canvas. Also clay. A
    beautiful medium, clay. She asked the dragon if he was going to help her. No. I know not
    where he is now, but this is his office. Here is where you can get what you need to repair
    yourself.
    “How do you know this crap?” He, of course, didn’t answer her. Whenever she
    asked him something that he didn’t want her to know, he’d just not answer. Of course it
    would be hard for him to know most of the things she didn’t since she didn’t know the
    answers either. The thing was a figment of her fevered mind.
    Emma moved to where she thought that some drugs might be. She didn’t want to
    steal them, or even sell them, though the money would be good right now. She just
    wanted something to take the pain away. And maybe fix up her ribs. Then when that
    didn’t hurt as much, she’d try to stitch up her leg, maybe clean it up again.
    The dragon—or whatever he was—had told her that she had several broken ribs,
    her arm was badly sprained, and she had several lacerations on her body that would
    need stitches. But he, too, was worried about the long gash in her leg. It was puffy and
    red. She couldn’t go to a hospital, she knew that now, nor could she see any kind of
    doctor that might turn her into the police. Or whoever was out for her. She’d been shot
    at twice since she’d crawled out of the building. She was sure that the next time she’d
    be dead.
    The offices were clean and smelled fresh, something that she’d missed since she’d
    started this haphazard trip. Most of the time she slept in alleys, with nothing more than
    a pile of smelly clothing as her blanket. And food was as hard to come by as places to
    rest. Twice she’d been able to go into a building, and both times she’d been caught
    there. Had the “dragon” not helped her out, she was sure that whoever was chasing her
    would have cornered her and killed her.

    “How do they find me? You never said.” He asked her who. “The bastards that
    keep shooting at me. And don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t answer me about
    why I can’t take this ring off and leave it someplace.”
    They find you because they know you. That made even less sense than when he’d told
    her that if she died, he would too. Well, duh, she wanted to tell him. They were the
    same person. They have people everywhere looking for you. They know who you are and your
    face. But they know not