Chapter 11 Axel #3
“This is the most important part.” She pats my neck. “Listen up.”
Listen up, I say.
“Not that part. You weren’t nearly this dumb before.” She’s really annoyed now.
Which means my plan’s working. I really like irritating her, for some reason. And when she calls me dumb, or lummox, instead of enraging me, I find it entertaining.
Not that this is the right time for me to explore those feelings.
The people around us are creeping toward us slowly, wide-eyed, obviously surprised I haven’t done anything aggressive. The man with the hat has taken it off, and he has no hair on his head underneath. It’s entirely shiny. He smiles.
Finally, Liz tells me the last thing to repeat.
“If you want to help us, and if you’re willing to leave your boring life behind to do it, come to the open field with the large red tent on the west side of the Southport Community Park.
We have to leave in ten minutes—and only humans who are pure of heart, valiant, and fearless will qualify to bond a dragon.
Come and find out whether you’re strong enough to help us with our quest.”
Quest?
She kicks my side. “Hurry. The clock’s ticking.”
I roll my eyes like I’ve seen her do, and it feels good. I do my best to repeat her stupid lines, but I cringe a little while I do it. She’s beaming, though.
This makes you happy?
No one comes.
“Maybe they’re afraid of you,” Liz says. “Tell them to approach the winged human instead. That’s where they should check in.”
If you want to help us, approach the winged human you’ll see flying down in front of the golden dragon.
Liz smiles. “I’m so proud of you. You didn’t even cringe when you said dragon.”
I roll my eyes again. It’s not something I’ve ever seen the blessed do, but for some reason, I enjoy doing it.
Liz hops free of my back, winging her way in front of me a dozen paces or so. It’s far enough from me that it makes me nervous, but I don’t crowd her.
Until humans begin rushing at her from all sides.
The bald man with the strange hat is the first one, chucking the strange skulls he was holding on the ground as he rushes toward Liz.
Not so fast, I say. She’s mine. No one else can touch her.
He stops dead in his tracks, turning toward her. “Are you Elizabeth Chadwick?” His mouth dangles from his face. “You—I—We all thought you died.” He’s crying.
But he can hear us, so I’m not surprised when I notice that he’s glowing.
Why are all the humans who want to help us so strange?
I haven’t spent much time around humans, not really, but I do know that carrying skulls and wearing odd hats isn’t common behavior.
It’s as weird as running around with wooden swords and pretending to fight.
Then again, warriors without a just war to fight might be forced to do strange things.
“If you heard him, you’re one of the brights,” Liz says. “That’s what the dragons call the humans worthy of bonding them.”
“You are her,” the man says. He glares to his right and left as more humans come, but he continually looks back toward Liz with utter awe. “This is really happening.”
Liz nods. “It is happening, but if you want to help the dragons, you have to be willing to come with us right now. You can’t return home, or gather things you want to take. You have to walk away from your life and—”
“Done,” strange hat says. “I’m in.” He’s beaming. “I’m so in.”
I’m nervous the entire time we wait, but almost half an hour later—not the ten minutes she initially said—I absolutely insist that we leave.
“It’s still not enough,” Liz says. “Just a few more minutes.”
But others are gathering. Quite a few others. They’re snapping photos. They’re shrieking and howling, and it’s making me very nervous with Liz standing in front of me and periodically flying around and talking to the new people who reach the clearing.
I spin in a circle, spreading the people away from me, and I open a portal back to where the other humans are waiting. Time to go.
Liz sighs, but she nods. “Tell them to line up, and make sure each of them is a bright.”
Once they’re all through, we do a more thorough count.
Somewhere along the way, we kind of lost track of screening children or people with small children.
More than three dozen children are now in the mix, with accompanying parents, but we’ll be returning to Hyperion with six hundred and forty-one adults, which is far more than I expected.
“You found more than three hundred at the Renaissance festival?” Jean asks. “That was a great idea.” She shrugs.
She’s a little annoying—clearly fishing for praise. It was a good idea.
“You know, I’ve always loved gold,” she says. “It’s my favorite color. I’m not sure whether a bond could be transferred, but if it can, I’d be happy to bond you instead.”
Noted. I walk away, following Liz toward the front of the group, and I’m proud of myself for not melting the irritating woman. As satisfying as it would have been, and as irritating as the woman was being, it would have upset Liz. I’m almost entirely certain.
When I open the portal back to Iceland, it’s hard, and it’s smaller than the others have been, so it takes a while for all the humans to pass through.
But Hyperion’s impressed, at least. You will choose one to bond.
I shrug. Eventually.
Now, he says. You look haggard, brother.
I’m fine.
He doesn’t argue, but I can tell it’s hard for him. This bought her one more day, Hyperion says. But if she can’t bring back even more tomorrow. . .
I know. I’m not the only one growing tired and in need of energy.
Some of the strike blessed cornered a water blessed this morning and tried to eat him. Hyperion looks at the river. The water blessed are angry. All of them are—we’re in big trouble here.
He doesn’t say it, but now that even our horrific cannibalism doesn’t work.
. .we are doomed unless we can find enough humans to bond.
Hyperion and I both follow the other blessed to the large pavilion where Liz is having the blessed gather to bond the newly located humans.
She’s asking the blessed to let the weakest ones bond first, but appeals to charity don’t work for us.
Weakness isn’t pitied—it’s despised. Still, I can’t help noticing that Hyperion, Asteria, Gordon, Rufus, and I aren’t clamoring to bond anyone yet.
I wonder whether they’re waiting to be noble, or for the same reason as me.
Which makes me wonder who they want to bond but haven’t. . .
And why.