Chapter 15
“F rozen?” Paige asked as she circled around the dragons, who stood motionless, seemingly encased in ice. She reached out to touch the odd shell, finding it was warm to the touch.
Dewey flitted to a purple dragon and knocked on the glass-like material. “Mom?”
The large dragon stood paralyzed, trapped with her mouth half-open and one front paw lifted.
Tears slid down Dewey’s cheeks, and he flung his arms around his mother’s glassy neck. “Mom!” he wailed. “Who would do this? My whole family is gone!”
“Are they, like, gone-gone or just…temporarily gone?” Paige whispered to Devon.
“Depends on the freezing agent,” he said as he studied an orange dragon’s tail.
“How would we know what kind of freezing agent was used?” Paige asked, making her way across the chamber to Dewey as he collapsed to the ground in sobs.
“Texture, smell, taste.”
“Taste?” Paige asked with a scrunched nose as she plopped onto the ground next to the wailing dragon. “Hey buddy, we’ll figure this out, okay?”
“Will we?” Dewey questioned. “How? With Doofus Devon and Puerile Paige?”
“Okay, I’m going to let that go, since you’re obviously beside yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Dewey said with a shake of his head as he climbed to his feet. “I’m distraught. I’m not thinking clearly.”
“I know. Devon says we can figure it out by texture, smell, and taste.”
“Well, I can’t taste it. One lick, and I’ll freeze!”
“Wait, wouldn’t that happen to all of us?”
“No,” Devon said as he joined them in the center of the cave. “As a human, you’d be okay. You can taste it.”
“Okay, whoa, just a second. I find it awfully convenient that I’m the only one who can taste it.”
Devon shoved his hands in his pockets and lifted his shoulders. “I can’t. It may be poisonous to me as a day-walker. Dewey can’t, since it’s been formulated to freeze dragons. That leaves you.”
“How do you know I won’t get frozen or poisoned?”
“Freezing agents don’t work on humans,” Dewey said, with a roll of his eyes. “Obviously.”
“Really? Humans can’t be frozen?”
“Let me rephrase. Freezing agents that are formulated for supernatural creatures won’t freeze humans. Humans can be frozen way easier than a dragon.”
“Oh, great, perfect. Okay, well, maybe we can solve this without a taste test. You said texture and smell.” She climbed to her feet and ran a hand along the slick surface covering Dewey’s mom. “It’s smooth, almost wet in texture. Not cold.”
“That rules out about five hundred things,” Dewey said.
Paige pumped a fist in the air. “Awesome! Progress.”
“And leaves about fifty thousand,” Dewey added, with a wrinkled nose.
Paige spun back to the dragon. “At least it’s not fifty thousand and five hundred.
Okay, let’s see.” She leaned forward and sniffed at the glistening sheen over the dragon’s scales.
“Odorless. Oh, unless my human smell receptors aren’t sensitive enough to smell it.
Do either of you have a keener sense of smell? ”
“No,” they answered at the same time.
Devon pointed a finger at Dewey. “Jinx, buy me a Coke.”
“Stuff it, Devon,” Dewey said, with a shake of his head. “There’s no time for your childish games right now.”
“Okay, does odorless make sense?” Paige asked.
“Yes,” Dewey answered, with a nod. “And it narrows it down quite a bit. It’ll be one of five concoctions.”
“One of which is specific to the Transylvanians,” Devon added.
Paige’s eyebrows shot up, and she flicked her gaze between the two of them. “Oh, well, it’s probably that, right?”
“Why would we assume that?” Dewey asked.
“Because the Transylvanians are also after the ring, and they may try to use your family as leverage. Which also implies there is a cure for this.”
“Those are some pretty big leaps, Paige,” Dewey said, with narrowed eyes.
“Is there not a cure for it?” she asked, jabbing at her glasses.
“No, you’re right. There’s a cure, and that could totally be it,” Dewey answered. “But we shouldn’t assume it is.”
“Why not? We need to find this cure, administer it, and if it doesn’t work–”
“My family is dead.” Dewey finished, setting his paws on his hips. “Is that what you want? Me orphaned and alone in the world?”
Paige scrunched up her face. “No. Although, I’m an orphan, and–”
“You hate it. And you hate it. Why would you wish it on anyone? Especially your best friend.” Dewey’s voice turned wistful, and he choked out a sob.
“Okay, I don’t. Sorry. So, I have to taste it, I guess. Will that narrow it down, or do they all taste the same?”
“No, the taste is unique. It will tell us what the formulation is.”
“Right. So, what could it taste like? If they’re all unique, I’d like to know.”
“No,” Dewey said, with a shake of his head. “It may bias you.”
“Oh, uh, I doubt it. Unless they are similar.”
“Not similar,” Dewey said, with a shake of his head.
“So then it should be fine. Just tell me.”
Dewey and Devon exchanged a glance. Devon flicked his eyebrows up and shrugged.
“I feel like if we tell you, you won’t taste it.”
“OMG, is it bad? Like, what level of bad? Like triple hot wings bad, or like eating dirt bad?”
Dewey turned down the corners of his lips. “Depends on your tastes.”
“Just tell me.”
Dewey shook his head. “No.”
“I’m not licking it until you tell me.”
“Oh, sure. Hold me hostage with my own family, Paige. Some friend.”
Paige crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “Just tell me.”
“Could be strawberry flavored,” Devon said.
“Oh, that’s not so bad,” Paige said, with a bob of her head.
Dewey crinkled his nose. “Speak for yourself. I hate strawberries.”
“How can you hate strawberries?”
“They’re sour and seedy. Blech,” Dewey said, sticking out his purple tongue.
“Okay, fair. What else? Another fruit? Peach, perhaps?”
“Uh, no, it could also be black licorice.”
Paige puckered her lips. “That’s not so good, but okay, doable.”
Dewey motioned her toward his stationary mother. “And there are three others, so go ahead and give it a lick and let us know–”
“No, no, wait,” Paige said, waving her hands in the air. “What are the other flavors?”
“Inconsequential to the discussion.”
She let her eyes go wide, sliding them from side to side. “I think it’s very consequential to the discussion. Tell me.”
Dewey studied the ground as he offered the next flavor. “Soap.”
“Eww,” Paige said, with a scrunched face.
Devon raised his eyebrows. “Earthworm.”
“Oh, yuck,” Paige said, the corners of her lips turning down.
Dewey landed on Devon’s shoulder as he murmured another word.
“What?” Paige asked. “I didn’t hear you.”
He winced and stared at her. “Earwax.”
“What? Oh, no,” Paige said, doubling over to balance herself against her thighs as she sucked in a deep breath. “That’s disgusting. I can’t do this.”
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Now you’re going into it with a bad taste in your mouth.”
“Possibly, literally. This is disgusting.” Paige righted herself and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, yuck. This is going to be so bad.”
She paced the floor, swinging her arms back and forth as she heaved in breaths, trying to prepare herself for the taste test. Dewey and Devon’s heads slid back and forth, following her.
“Okay, okay,” she said, bobbing her head up and down as she walked, “I can do this. It’s just a little taste. A tiny, potentially disgusting taste. And then it’ll be over.”
“Except for the aftertaste,” Dewey pointed out.
Paige slowed to a stop and shook her head, frowning. She slid her eyes closed and sighed. “Whatever. This is life and death. The fate of your family lies with me.”
She swung her arms again, clapping them in front of her. “I have to do it. I, alone, can save your family. I’m a hero. I am a hero.”
She widened her legs and stuck her fists on her hips, raising her chin.
“Paige? Are you okay? Are you having a stroke or something?” Dewey asked, rubbing his finger along his chin.
“I’m doing my superhero pose.”
Dewey narrowed his eyes at her. “Why?”
“It increases confidence and makes you feel stronger.”
“Uhhh,” Dewey started.
“There’s an article about it,” she snapped before she lifted her chin again. “It works.”
“Sure it does.”
Paige offered him an unimpressed stare before she returned to her stance.
Dewey bobbed his head up and down. “I mean, yeah, of course it does. Definitely. Go for it.”
After a few moments, Paige sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, I’m ready.” She placed her hands on the smooth surface covering Dewey’s mom and stuck out her tongue.
“Oh wait,” she said, stepping back, “which one is the Transylvanian one?”
Dewey crossed his arms and shook his head. “Nope, not telling. Just lick it and tell us the flavor.”
“Fine,” she grumbled as she readied for a taste.
“Make sure you get a good sense of the flavor. There’s no margin for error. And you don’t want to lick it again.”
Paige nodded as she stared down at the glassy surface. Her breathing turned ragged, and she swallowed hard. Salty saliva filled her mouth again as she imagined licking earwax. She cringed and forced her mouth open, sliding her tongue across the surface.
Her mouth puckered, and she pulled away, licking her arm to remove any traces of the taste. “Soap. It’s soap. Soap.”
“Are you sure?” Dewey asked.
“Positive. It’s soap. Thank God it was only soap. Okay, now what?”
She flicked her tongue out of her mouth a few times, trying to clear the lingering taste.
“So, it’s definitely the Transylvanians, then,” Devon said. “You’re sure it’s soap, right?”
Paige bobbed her head up and down. “Positive. Soap. It was soap. Couldn’t have been strawberry, could it?”
Dewey clapped his paws together. “That doesn’t really make sense. If it was strawberry, it would have been the mermaids. Mermaids in the rainforest? Highly doubtful.”
Paige pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. “You could have told me that upfront. I went into this with hope, at least.”