Chapter 44 #2
“Ye-yes. Here! Just make them go away!” the cyclops muttered, terrified.
Jabir took the flute with a grateful nod and an apologetic smile, and stepped away from the crates. Chaos whirled around him—sea monkeys swinging from banners, demented symbiots playing leapfrog over merchant carts—but Jabir didn’t chase them. He stood still, and he played.
The gentle melody danced through the loud crashes, squeals, and war cries, weaving through the smoky, glitter-scented air.
A few heads turned.
A couple of sea monkeys paused mid-scamper, blinking slowly as they tilted their heads.
A demented symbiot halted, ears twitching, and plopped down.
Jabir swayed to the rhythm of the haunting tune, and pride and triumph coursed through him when creatures dropped from high perches and crept out from under low ones, heads bobbing and tails twitching.
Jabir played patiently, and by the fifth note of the second verse, the sea monkeys’ usual wild screeches had softened into happy, humming clicks and the demented symbiots—still covered in bits of ribbon, feathers, and stolen snacks—danced with dreamy twirls and rhythmic whirls.
In the wake of the bystanders’ awe and amazement, Jabir walked slowly toward the water, his fingers moving with purpose over the bone-cool flute.
The sea monkeys trailed after him, entranced, moving with swaying shoulders and hips in a loose conga line. The demented symbiots followed in a bouncing wave, their eyes glowing a peaceful green-blue.
He kept walking, kept playing.
The entire market stopped to stare as the chaos fell into a parade.
His parade.
Even the goose from earlier had somehow joined the procession, honking in time.
As he reached the harbor’s edge, Jabir paused at the last note and gave a playful trill.
The sea monkeys let out a chorus of gurgling chirps, then leapt into the water, diving and flipping with pure joy before disappearing beneath the waves.
Gone.
Peacefully.
But the symbiots… they stayed.
Twitching. Wobbling.
Waiting.
Behind him, he heard Zohar’s voice. “We’ve got the crate!”
Jabir nodded, flute never leaving his lips.
Bálint and Roam rolled a massive crate next to Jabir.
“Do it,” Bálint encouraged.
Jabir turned, took a few slow steps toward it, and shifted the melody into something low and droning—steady like a heartbeat, hypnotic as a lullaby.
One by one, the symbiots hopped, skipped, and plunked themselves into the crate. Some giggled. One somersaulted in. Another carried a stolen fork like a sword and knighted Jabir’s boots before joining the pile.
When the last one tumbled in with a hiccupping squeak, Zohar slapped the latch down with a whoop.
“Victory!” he bellowed.
Jabir played one final, sweet note.
Then lowered the flute.
A pause, filled only by the faint, joyful humming of the symbiots in the crate.
Then—
The roar of cheering.
“Jabir, that was amazing!” Phoenix called, flying toward him.
Alice clapped her hands, laughing. “That was fantastic.”
Spring barreled into him with a hug. “You’re magic!”
Amber and Jade were already inspecting the crate, babbling in unison.
“Wait—how did you do that?”
“What frequency? Did you use harmonic resonance?”
“Can we borrow your flute?!”
Jabir flushed with embarrassment. “I, uh… it’s not mine. I’ve been experimenting. With some of the demented symbiots back home. They respond really well to certain tones. I figured I’d try something soothing.”
Adaline stepped beside him, smiling gently. “You figured right. That was beautiful.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”
Nali approached. She placed a hand over her heart.
“You have shown again how a gentle touch can calm pandemonium,” she said. ”Thank you.”
He bowed slightly, still flushed. “Anytime.”
“Now I know exactly where they’ll be happy… and contained,” Nali added, her voice rich with mischief.
Jabir tilted his head. “Where?”
Her eyes sparkled. “With the sirens. There are several islands that will make a perfect home for them.”
Jabir started. A sad, wistful smile curved his lips.
“They’ll love it there.”
“I believe they will,” Nali said softly. “Sirens have the perfect voice to soothe even the most stubborn symbiot.”
Drago, arms folded and grinning, added, “So… do we have to tell Ashure? Or can we keep this little flute trick to ourselves?”
Everyone erupted in laughter.
“Ashure deserves sea monkeys turning his ship into a jungle gym,” Orion said dryly, nudging Asahi, who merely grunted.
“Yes, I vote we don’t tell him,” Drago said.
As if on cue, the crate let out a squeaky wheeee from within.
Amber leaned over. “I think they’re playing with one of the lightning feathers in there.”
“Are any of you hungry?” Nali asked.
Jabir flushed when all eyes turned to him. He gripped the flute in one hand and rubbed his hand over his stomach when it growled.
“Yeah,” he said with a wry grin.
“Thank you, Goddess!” Zohar said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s good to have you back.”
Jabir nodded and grinned. He handed the flute back to the cyclops with a quiet thank you before he laughed when Roam asked him when he had learned to play the flute.
A group of sprites and witches had already begun to repair the damage to the market and docks.
As the group turned toward the palace, walking side-by-side down the sunlit road, Jabir lingered for a moment, watching the crate being loaded into the back of a carriage flanked by gargoyle guards.
Phoenix touched his arm. “You okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I think I finally am.”
She smiled. “Good. Because I have a feeling we’re going to need your flute again. Especially if Jade and Amber don’t quit experimenting on their symbiots.”
Jade shouted from up ahead, “We heard that!”
“It’s in the name of science!” Amber defended.
Jabir groaned. “We’re in trouble.”
“Always! We can’t do it without you, bro,” Bálint said, slapping his shoulder.
The palace garden shimmered in the golden light of late afternoon, the leaves whispering in the warm breeze. A short distance away, laughter rang out like music.
Zohar was mock-wrestling with Roam. Spring was arguing with Amber and Jade over how their inventions caused more destruction, not if they caused it at all.
Alice conjured floating bubbles with Adaline while Bálint playfully tried to pop them.
Jabir and Asahi were having a quiet discussion off to the side.
Bálint loudly declared that if they somehow survived their upcoming grounding, he couldn’t wait to come back and explore all the isles in greater detail.
Phoenix laughed at the hopeful chorus that agreed with Bálint’s suggestion. The sound wrapped around her like a blanket. She sighed as she turned to face the man standing quietly beside her, his massive form as still and powerful as stone.
Drago.
His golden eyes softened as they met hers. A muscle twitched in his jaw. His hands, battle-scarred and strong, were folded loosely at his sides. There was so much in his gaze—respect, pride, and something almost paternal, but mostly… quiet understanding.
“I hope your parents realize,” he said, his voice gruff with unspoken emotion, “just how special you are.”
Phoenix blinked hard, then grinned through the burn in her throat. “You better remember that,” she said playfully, “when Roo, Stone, and DJ turn everything upside down.”
Drago let out a warm rumble of laughter. “Already been warned. Carly and Jenny swear the boys are coming up with their own name to call themselves. Some mischief-maker alliance.”
“Let me guess,” Phoenix teased, “the Roo Warriors?”
“Goddess help us. She’ll plaster posters everywhere—and charge me for just looking at them,” Drago groaned.
Phoenix burst out laughing. “She is pretty creative.”
“Yeah. She gets that from Carly,” he retorted affectionately before he sobered. “I hope we get to meet again. It’s been an honor, young Guardian.”
Her throat tightened with emotion.
Phoenix pulled in a deep breath and threw her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
Drago’s arms wrapped around her in return, strong and grounding. “If you ever need me,” he murmured, “I’ll find a way.”
She sniffed, gave a watery laugh, and nodded. “Can you please tell Roo, Stone, DJ… Carly… and your parents goodbye for me?”
“I will.”
From across the garden, Zohar cupped his hands around his mouth. “Phoenix! We’d better go before Amber and Jade steal some sea monkeys to bring home!”
“Snitch!” Amber groaned.
“Weasel! James and Leo would love them,” Jade whined in mock disappointment.
Phoenix turned and grinned when she saw several sea monkeys peering out from the twins’ duffle bag.
“I’m coming! I guess this is goodbye.”
She gave Drago another big hug before she stepped away, her boots silent on the soft grass. Several feet from the others, she paused, drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and focused on home.
The treehouse.
The golden-leafed branches.
The palace garden.
She pictured it clearly—every detail, every texture. The dappled light. The scent of honeyed fruit. The laughter echoing through the leaves.
Her eyes snapped open, and she called forth the power to open the portal.
Flame surged around her—vivid, radiant. Her body flared, made of molten light and shimmering heat. Within the blaze, her dragon coiled in silhouette, gold, red, yellow, and orange fire licking outward in rhythmic pulses.
The space before her rippled.
And within the breath of light… a doorway formed.
Not a thread this time. Not a fracture.
A true portal. Created by a Guardian Protector of the universe.
The air shimmered, revealing a perfect mirror of their home. The royal gardens of Valdier stretched beyond it. Sunlight poured through golden trees. The treehouse rose tall and proud in the distance.
Phoenix exhaled slowly and smiled. The surrounding garden glowed. The energy in the air shifted, quieted, as if listening to her commands.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go home.”