Chapter 7 Axel #2
“Their reasons differ,” Liz says. “Some of them just want to help, and some of them have always wanted to find purpose in their lives, but for many of them, including my friend Norm, he’s always felt like there was more in life than what he had.
He’s always longed to be a part of something like this—what we humans call fantasy. ”
Perhaps the strength in his heart called to him, I say. Because he’s bright.
The smile on the rounded one’s face is beautiful to see.
Then he begins to leak—cry. He falls to his knees and chants something I don’t understand.
I want him, Phileas says. I like the idea of having a human who wants to be bonded badly enough that he cries.
The rounded human’s head whips up, and he says, “My name is Norm.”
I’m Phileas, earth blessed of three hundred and twelve of your annual cycles. My strength is in manipulating rock—useful in Iceland, and here too, it appears.
Norm stumbles to his feet, and squares his shoulders. “What do I have to do?”
Phileas steps closer. Nothing. His mouth curls back in a small smile. Simply tell me that you’re willing so Liz won’t try to stab me with her small knives.
“Swords,” Liz says. “And they’re not small.
They weigh a ton.” In that moment, I realize Liz has changed her clothing.
She’s wearing something quite different, a red and brown hide of some kind.
It’s not dragon hide, but it looks nice.
It’s much better than the dingy white tunic, and it looks warmer, too.
She’s also wearing a very nice black scabbard that wraps around her shoulders and under her wings.
The swords are held much more elegantly than before, which I’m sure is a relief to her.
A scarlet cloak with ties in the front and openings for her wings swirls around her, and that makes me rest easier as well. I’ve worried about her health ever since my failed mating. She’s looked cold ever since when I’m not close enough to warm the air around her.
Who dressed my Liz?
My Liz? Agrippa’s fully smiling now. Interesting.
I ignore her.
“It was me.” The tiny woman with the fuzzy head lifts her hand. “My name’s Karen, and my job’s making high end costumes. It allowed me to work from home—my mom’s disabled. Or, she was.” She swallows. “She died last month.”
“No one makes clothing as beautiful as Karen,” Norm says. “That’s why she was one of the first people I called when I saw Liz in those rags.”
“I’d never had to make anything to accommodate real wings,” she says. “I’m sure I can come up with better options, given a little more time.”
Liz is beaming at her.
Karen. I nod slowly. You’re both talented and kind. That must be a well-loved name for humans.
For some reason, Liz snorts and Norm laughs.
I ignore them and continue on. Your kindness in providing clothing for Liz is appreciated. Since you’re also glowing, you may come back with us if you choose.
She starts crying, too. This seems to be a real design flaw for humans. They’re mostly made of water, but they all spring leaks in times of stress or excitement.
I’ll take her, Agrippa says. If she wants me. She tilts her head and steps closer to Karen. I’m a serpentine earth blessed, and I’m very fast, on the ground or in the air. My affinity is somewhat useless, however. I speed the growth of living things planted in the earth.
“That sounds amazing,” Karen says. “I’m terrible at keeping plants alive, but I love them. Maybe you can help.”
I can bury you in flowers.
“She probably means that quite literally,” Liz says. “Make sure you’re clear with her about how many flowers you want—exactly. Dragons’ sense of humor sucks until you’ve trained them.”
I’m learning, Agrippa says. Liz already started.
“That’s true.” Liz is smiling again.
I like seeing her smile.
Shall we try? Phileas asks. If you’re both in agreement?
Are you ready? Agrippa asks.
Karen and Norm step forward, nodding and then bowing their heads for some reason.
“Go ahead and try,” Liz says. “Every human who came with me was willing to be bonded.” She glances over her shoulder. “I know the rest of you are anxious to know whether you’re bright—we’ll point you all out as soon as this is done.” Liz sounds anxious, and I don’t blame her.
I, too, am concerned.
How’s it done? Phileas asks. No one ever spoke to us about it, since we couldn’t ensnare.
Liz frowns. “Azar, do you remember?”
Only what they told us before we came. Not many blessed who lived on Earth before we left came with us, so we’re almost all new to this.
At first, I found it strange that so few returned, but as I thought about it, I understood.
Sending the younger blessed risked less of a loss as well.
They said the stronger humans, the brighter ones, would call out to us.
If we sought for their energy, pulling it toward us, we could bring it into ourselves.
“We’re stronger than other humans?” Karen asks.
I shrugged. That’s what they told us, but I don’t recall bonding Liz the first time. It’s been a strange week.
“Yeah, our trigger-happy government shot you,” someone in the back with dark skin says. “Sorry about that.”
It appears Liz was right. Not all the humans hate us. The ones who hate us just seem to have more firepower.
Agrippa lowers her head until it’s close to Karen’s. Her long, serpentine nose is almost touching the fuzzy halo around Karen’s face. I like your fuzzy brown fur. It makes you easy to spot. Don’t change it.
Karen’s face turns bright red. Then her body stiffens, and her head falls backward.
I’m not sure what the humans can see, but I watch as the light around her expands, like an explosion that moves outward to encompass Agrippa and then contracts back down to Karen.
Her hair shivers, almost, and then it turns a mossy green, just like Agrippa’s scales.
It’s still just as fuzzy, though.
Oh, Agrippa says. I like this better. Now we match.
Karen may not be very smart—she’s beaming like an idiot. Or maybe she’s just profoundly happy.
Once we reach Iceland, I have a saddle I made for Liz when we escaped, back when I could shift into human form.
Shifting allowed us to make clothing and saddles.
After Liz left, I dumped it by some trees, but I think I can find it again.
There aren’t many trees in Iceland. Until then, you’ll have to try very hard to hold on to my back. I’m slippery.
As I watch the two of them staring at each other, both of them looking a little different than before, I can’t help wondering what color Liz’s dark hair would become if I bonded her.
It was gold at first, Phileas says. When Azar bonded her too, it turned red.
Liz is looking at us strangely. “Why aren’t you guys happier?”
Of course she’s relieved. I am too, obviously. We are.
“Now you do it,” Liz says. “Norm is my friend—the one I told you about. He’s—”
The warrior, Agrippa says.
Norm doesn’t look much like a warrior, in my opinion, but then neither did Liz. She’s clearly stronger than I expected her to be, so maybe for humans, strength and ferocity look a little different.
“You told them I was a warrior?” Norm asks. “Really?”
“You are,” Liz says. “No matter how other people made you feel, you dug deep and became what you wanted to be. And now. . .” She tosses her head. “You’re fighting the US government to help the dragons. You’re making the life for yourself that you always wanted.”
I’m worried he’s going to spring a leak again, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he straightens, his chin lifting.
His hair’s a little strange, but then I realize it’s trapped underneath a strange cloth cover.
A little red piece of fabric is wrapped around his head—humans call it a hat, but it’s not like the others I’ve seen that look decorative.
This one looks like it was made only for warmth.
Which is smart. Humans have no protection without fur or scales or magic of their own. They should use small swaths of fabric, or whatever they can find.
Like Agrippa before him, Phileas crouches and lowers his head, nearing Norm. He sniffs his strange hat, and then he lifts his head and bellows.
The sound’s much stronger than I expected from Phileas. He’s always been quiet and reserved—cranky, yes—but not much for showmanship. Could this round human’s warrior spirit change Phileas? It’s an interesting possibility.
“Maybe less screaming.” Liz grimaces. “We’re really trying not to tell the humans we’re here, remember?”
Sorry. Phileas drops his head again. I have a very nice neck ridge that you can hold when you ride me. He fluffs it out. It looks thin, but my frill doesn’t hurt if you grab it.
“Can we find out who else is a bright now?” a very tall human with big teeth asks.
“Yes,” Liz says. “Of course. I think they’re about to bond. We’ll do it right after.”
Heedless of the interruption, Norm’s staring right at Phileas, and then Phileas lowers his head and his frill snaps outward, and the light-glow-ball happens again. It’s almost as beautiful the second time, and not only because it means they’ll be able to eat, I hope.
It’s also clear that they’re happy. They have more light together than they had apart. Interestingly, the glow around Karen and Norm has shifted—darkened. Instead of a bright light with a golden tint, it’s now a rich, dark amber color.
It’s like the other bonded humans.
I suppose that’s how we’ll know a bright human’s already ensnared.
With Agrippa and Phileas both smiling and clearly preoccupied, it falls to me to select the humans who are bright. Two steps takes me to the end of the line they’ve formed, and as I look at their faces, I realize that they’re all hopeful.
Desperately hopeful.
For some reason, these humans badly want to become ensnared. Liz’s mother and many of the other humans who were taken before hated the idea. They left their bonds—but these humans want to be chosen.