Chapter 3
Axel
As I prepare for my wedding, I can’t help thinking how strange my life has become. The last thing I remember, I was leaving for Earth, tasked by my father to finally fulfill the prophecy that’s been hanging over me since my hatch.
I was going to locate the heart, wrest it away from the earth children, and return it to our people.
Everyone would rejoice.
My father would finally be proud of me. I’d have a place. I’d be what he needed—what everyone needed. Only, that’s not what’s happened at all. I’ve been on Earth for months, and I’ve made no progress.
No heart.
No conclusive evidence of where they’ve hidden it.
Earth children—humans, as they call themselves—are all trying to kill us. Earth blessed have become suddenly powerful, but my secret’s also been outed.
I still can’t believe that I divulged it myself, voluntarily, in an attempt to protect a human. A very strange human with wings. A human I both hate and. . .am fascinated with against my better judgment.
There’s still nothing but a blank spot where my memories should be.
The news of my dual affinities rocketed through the ten thousand blessed here, but so far no one has done anything about it.
At least, not yet. Hyperion has barely even talked about it.
All of our people are gathering now, preparing to herald my wedding and mating ceremony with Asteria, the princess of the strike blessed, sent to help create the first blessed egg since we left Earth.
At least, we hope.
I’ve known this day was coming my entire life.
I never dreaded it.
Asteria’s beautiful. She’s elegant and smart, and she listens.
I can’t think of a single blessed I’d rather mate with—our children would be powerful and strong.
They’ll be fit leaders one day, when she and I can’t rule any longer.
It’s smart. It’s what my father wants. And it’s what I want—mating with her, producing a successful egg—it would cement my place as my father’s heir.
Still, for some reason, I keep thinking about the winged human.
I shake away the stray thoughts and focus.
I only have a handful of decisions to make.
When blessed marry, there’s a ceremony with a very particular set of promises, and then we dance in the sky.
It’s beautiful, and when powerful blessed wed, the blessed all celebrate the union along with them.
The air above Iceland will soon be replete with winged blessed, trumpeting their best wishes.
The ocean below will churn with water blessed, and the earth blessed will probably celebrate more than any other.
It’s not every day that one of their kind mates with a strike blessed.
Actually, I’ve never heard of such a thing.
Though since I’ve been alive, only the earth blessed have successfully reproduced, and since they can’t fly, their mating’s a lot less exciting and beautiful.
But now the earth blessed do have wings.
Which means I need to decide how I’m going to marry Asteria—in which form. I’m analyzing the reasons for each when Gordon interrupts me.
Again.
You have to free them. Gordon’s obsessed. He’s being more obnoxious than I ever recall him being, about anything in the past few centuries.
Yes, you do. Rufus has been just as bad.
They don’t even seem to be scared that I’ll melt them. You do know I’m not just Axel. I may be in my earth blessed form now, but only because I’m debating what form to take for the ceremony. I’d like to show the others in a very real way that I’m both, and what better way to do it than as Axel?
On the other hand, Azar’s a more impressive sight, and he flies faster. Not a lot faster, but enough that it’s noticeable. It would be embarrassing if Asteria outflew me at our very first mating.
Should we care that you’re Azar too? Gordon asks. You cared about Liz the same in both forms. We really should have known.
I’m losing my patience. This has nothing to do with her—she’s human.
I disagree. Now Asteria’s landed next to us. Leaving her in that cage was wrong. If you really don’t care about her, then for a wedding gift, give her to me.
I said I don’t want anyone else bonding her. We need the information trapped in her head, so we can’t allow distractions. I frown. Why would you even want her?
I won’t bond her if that would bother you, but give her and the children to me. Taking care of them amuses me, and I can help restore her memories faster. You don’t remember, but she’s quite a warrior among their people.
I saw that she has the earth swords.
A gift from you. Asteria walks closer. She and I had become quite close. Her silvery body flows around the bend in the River ?lfusá like molten metal, sinewy and smooth. When she turns back to face me, she’s smiling. Go and get her. Bring her to me.
Until this moment, I never wanted to melt Asteria’s face off. It’s insane, of course. I don’t care whether my future mate wants the human—what’s she to me? Gordon and Rufus seem to think she’s extremely important, and the information in her head may be, but she’s just a human.
Fine, I say. I’ll bring her if that’s what you want.
I launch into the sky as much to get away from Asteria before I do something unreasonable as anything else. When Gordon and Rufus follow, it irritates me further. Until I woke on Earth without any memory of the last few months, they’d never have followed me.
I’m happy they have wings. I’m delighted they’re stronger and more powerful, too, of course, but I wish they’d leave me alone already.
The way you reacted to her request. . . Gordon’s tone is smug, which is rich given how hard he’s having to work just to keep up with me.
What?
Rufus finally catches up, and he’s trying even harder to fly at this slow speed. That’s why we want you to free her. The way you reacted when the other blessed wanted to bond her—you may not remember her, but she’s yours.
Asteria wants her, and she can have her, I snap.
If you hand her over, you’ll regret it, Gordon says.
You were supposed to mate with Asteria before too, Rufus says. You didn’t do it, and you said you never would.
I’m heartily sick of them telling me what I want and what I said. When I finally land outside the volcano, I send the strike blessed and earth blessed I assigned to guard the cage away. On my way through the opening, I stop.
The flame emblem carved in the stone of the entrance is tiny.
The skulls below it are even smaller.
Do they really signify that Liz lost a life when she entered the volcano the last time? Can she enter again and come out unscathed a second time? Why don’t I remember anything? Maybe it has to do with my Azar half dying, but then I’d expect my memory loss to extend only to that point.
“Why are you back?”
Liz is sitting on the floor of the cage, one of the tiny human’s heads on her lap. The others are asleep around her, draped over her legs. As I move closer, a tiny puff of fur rises a few inches and starts making a strange sort of squeaking sound.
“Stop barking,” Liz whispers. “You’ll wake the babies.”
The tiny fluffy thing whimpers. She pats its head with affection, and she smiles at it. Something about the interaction bothers me. I hate how many things about her I don’t understand. What is that?
“You liked to pet her, before,” she says. “It’s a dog. Fluff Dog.”
I can’t pet things. One claw would flay her wide open.
Liz doesn’t argue with me. For some reason, that feels. . .off as well.
You aren’t going to insist that I did pet her as you said?
She shrugs. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?”
Do you want to come and watch the mating?
She flinches, and that perversely makes me happy. “No, I most certainly do not.” She turns her face away.
Even that small movement upsets me. I step closer, the gravel under my feet crunching. Why not?
Her head snaps back, her eyes bright. “Does it matter?” One eyebrow rises. “Would it make a difference how I felt or what I wanted?”
I shake my head slowly.
“I thought not.” She sighs. “Are the earth dragons happy that they’re stronger?”
Happy?
“Are they at least relieved?” she asks. “Are you relieved to have Azar back?” She tosses her head.
“Of course not. You forgot you even died.” She balls up her fists and the fluffy thing squeaks.
She leans down and presses her mouth to its head in a movement that makes a strange sound. “Sorry, Fluff Dog.”
Do not do that.
“What?” Her eyebrows rise. “Kiss my dog?”
Kiss. Yes, don’t do that.
Her lips quirk upward on one side. “You know, you’re almost as scary as Axel as you are as Azar. That must be nice—no more fear.”
I was never afraid.
“Liar.” But then the corner of her mouth twists a lot more, and bizarrely, I know what it means. She’s mocking me again.
“At least you’re done with the secrets. I’m sure that’s nice.”
She said you’re—the emphasis on that word—and that implies she has some kind of secret. What are you hiding, Liz Chadwick?
“Things you couldn’t understand if you wanted to.”
Try.
She sighs loudly. “A thousand tiny moments.” Something glistens on her cheek, and she wipes it away. She turns away from me and inhales sharply. Then she carefully shifts the head of the child on her lap to the bottom of the cage and stands, stepping toward me.
It excites me for some reason, her moving closer. I hate the feeling.
“What secrets am I hiding?” Her laugh’s bitter.
“I’m not hiding them very well, clearly.
You were my whole world, Axel, and you don’t even remember me.
Not a moment, not a glance.” Her voice drops.
“Not a single touch.” She holds my gaze for another moment, and then she turns and walks to the back of the cage, her wings fluffing up until I can’t see her at all.
I almost don’t hear her, either.
“Now, go away and leave me alone. Forever, if you don’t mind.”