Chapter 1 #2
I mean, I didn’t really earn it, per se, but I think just surviving in the world I was chucked into should earn me some accolades. Azar doesn’t flip out, or shriek, or blow a column of fire to incinerate me. He simply drops off the same ledge and glides along beside me.
Did we do this often?
“Fly?” I ask. “Yes.”
Really? Because you’re miserably slow. I hate this.
“Well, speaking of things that are hard, you didn’t used to be this rude.” I scowl. “But we went faster before. You carried me. Just got wings, remember? You’re giving me a good reason to get faster, just to get away from you.”
I could melt you and be done with all this.
“I could stab you.” I refuse to look at him. It hurts too much. “You won’t, though, because you want to know what happened in that volcano and why the earth blessed are so much stronger.”
One massive beat of his wings and he soars out ahead of me and circles around, snapping his wings and flattening out in front of me. I can’t correct as fast as he can, so I slam right into his enormous scaled chest and nearly plummet—again—toward the ground below.
His stupid claw snags me again, and I’m losing my patience with it.
He is too, it seems. You will tell me now. How did the earth blessed grow stronger?
I wiggle until he releases me, and then I back away slowly. “I won’t tell you now.”
He inhales sharply, and I realize he’s about to melt something.
“Melting the side of the mountain won’t change my mind,” I say. “Because I can’t tell you—I don’t remember what happened. Unlike you, I remember everything else, so I think it’s just a matter of time before it comes back to me.”
Time? He’s still scowling, but he’s gone from bloodbath to beatdown.
“Human bodies aren’t like your dragon ones.
We have a whole bunch of systems that run things.
The circulatory system pumps blood through so we can get oxygen and other things to where they need to go.
The digestive tract helps food work its way down and sorts it into waste and energy reserves.
The lymphatic system keeps us from getting sick.
When we experience something traumatic, like being forcibly flung into a volcano, our body shuts down in waves to protect us. ”
I know—I studied the feeble human body.
“Then you probably learned about what happens when we go into shock. When your brother hurled you, me, Rufus, and Gordon into the volcano—”
Hyperion would never do that. He’s defended me for centuries.
“Why ask me questions if you’re convinced you already know the answers to everything?” I start to walk away.
No. You’ll stay.
It’s hardly an ominous threat, but I can tell from the tone of command in my head that he’s losing his patience with my little rebellious act.
There’s a fine line between holding his attention and irritating him.
I may be getting close to crossing it. I pivot on my heel, and then I trip over the ends of my new wings and fall flat on my face.
This upgrade may take some getting used to.
“You want to know the same things I do.” I brush the ice from my white pants, my hands stinging from the cold.
“Be patient for a little while, and as soon as my body relaxes and my memories return, I’ll tell you what happened. ”
If your defective human brain can recover them.
“Exactly,” I say. “But what do you have to lose?”
My sanity?
My bark of laughter actually hurts. I’ve missed his droll sense of humor. First he died. Then when I escaped from the human camp, I had him for mere moments before losing him again.
And now?
He’s right in front of me, and he couldn’t be further away.
What’s wrong?
I swipe at my eyes and shake my head. “Just waiting for my brain to reboot.”
Damage to your brain causes your eyes to leak? Humans really are poorly designed.
“I can’t even argue with that.”
Do you wish we were still bonded? His tone’s light—curious.
I think about it for a moment, and I decide to tell the truth. “I do.”
Why?
How much is too much? The old Azar. . .these words would have meant nothing to him. I say them as much to test him as anything else. “I loved you—the bond brought us closer. I miss that connection, just like I miss you.”
But I’m right here.
“The Azar I knew is gone.” As I say it, it really hits me how true it is.
He’s deader now than he was when they were keeping me in confinement.
At least then I had hope, but now my Azar really is gone.
Our relationships, our interactions—they’re delicate.
Every person we love is connected to us by an intricate web we create with our words and actions, and the trust we’ve built.
. .once it’s ripped away, who we are fundamentally changes.
I’m more powerful now. Is that what you mean?
“Sure,” I say. “Yes.”
His nostrils flare, and he tosses his head. It’s time to go back. Hyperion and the others will be concerned about my abrupt departure.
He can say that again. I bet Hyperion crapped a brick—maybe a whole pile of them. “Are you offering me a ride, or are we cruising back?”
Would you accept a ride?
“I’d rather ride on your back than clutched in your claw.”
I assume you did this before?
I nod slowly.
I don’t like not remembering. It feels like a weakness.
And weakness wasn’t allowed among the Blessed. Every person in his life would have seen it as a liability. “None of the Blessed liked me much,” I say. “Not remembering me won’t make you look bad. Trust me.”
He’s quiet as I fly up and over his shoulder and settle in on his back. The ridges are familiar, and it feels like every single thing we used to do is just one more slice on my poor heart. At this rate, I’ll never heal. I may as well cut my heart out and be done with it.
Can you at least tell me why we came to Iceland?
“When you told me about the heart, I told you about something that happened to me as a child. A group of humans kidnapped me and tried to throw me into the volcano you and I just left. They kept chanting ‘heart’ in Icelandic.”
You voluntarily shared this information? Or I compelled it from you?
“I chose to share it,” I say. “I wanted to help you locate the heart and restore your people’s ability to procreate.”
He launches into the air then, with no notice, like he always did. I’m so much better prepared for it now that even with my unwieldy wings continually shifting and unfurling, I manage to stay on and stay crouched.
You know what I want—answers. What do you want from me?
The fact that he even has to ask. . . “The same thing I’ve always wanted,” I say. “When you first bonded me, we made a deal. I’d be a good little ensnared human, and you’d keep my three siblings safe.”
The small humans.
“And I often asked you to try to keep the human casualties as low as possible whenever dragons and humans came into conflict. That’s it. Those two things are what I want.”
He’s quiet the rest of the way back, and I close my eyes, letting the frigid wind whipping through my hair distract me from my misery. When we reach the volcano, Hyperion’s perched on the edge of the outer rim, a half dozen strike blessed gathered beside him.
“He’s going to demand you throw me back in the volcano the second we land.”
I’ll refuse, he says.
My heart expands. He doesn’t know me, but he’s still the same person who bonded me to begin with. He’s fair. He understands how it feels to be the little guy. He cares about people quickly. Maybe. . .maybe we’ll be alright.
He lands, and then he shakes, and I slide down to the rocky ground.
“Thanks,” I say. “For bringing me back. For honoring our deal.”
Our deal is off, Elizabeth Chadwick, Azar says, and I can tell he’s broadcasting.
We are no longer bonded, nor will we be.
You will wait here until your memories return, and once we know what happened to change the earth blessed, you’ll be thrown back into the volcano to continue looking for the heart.
He snags me with one claw, plows through into the volcanic antechamber, and shoves me inside the cage bolted to the side wall that held Sammy, Coral, and Jade.
Rufus and Gordon will keep watch over them until her brain has healed.
Without so much as a backward glance, Azar flies away, Hyperion barely a second behind him. And then he’s just. . .gone.
And I can finally bawl like the broken-hearted idiot I am.