Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
David
I’ve run out of room in my notebook. I had about forty pages left this morning, and I thought that would be enough.
I hadn’t fully anticipated dragons.
Mind you, I don’t think anyone could have fully anticipated dragons. I thought I was prepared, based on what Caolan and the others had said. I thought they’d be oversized hellhounds. And as exhausting as hellhounds are, I’ve been dealing with them for centuries.
Having met only two dragons but with close to seventy pages of notes (I borrowed some kind of parchment-y writing material from the king), I’m now convinced we might need to make some contingency plans for dealing with dragons.
It’s not so much that they need special food or living conditions, although we will need to make sure they have decent-sized outdoor spaces to shift in.
It’s that they’re… quirky. Yeah, let’s go with that.
Hellhounds are quirky too, but they don’t weigh upwards of a hundred thousand pounds (how do they even fly?) and have the ability to breathe fire.
Stuff like that can easily lead to “pranks” getting out of hand, Wing Leader Brandt informed me, which is why we need to ensure any settlement with dragons is as close to fire retardant as possible—or invest in a lot of fire extinguishers.
How the hell do you make an entire settlement fire retardant? The cost of doing that for just one house would be astronomical… and maybe impossible. I mean, there’s always something around that can burn, right?
So… yeah. Most of my notes are a warning list about dragons.
On the plus side, Brandt has promised that there will be at least three mature, sensible dragons among the tac team and officials who’ll be coming back to Earth with us today.
They’ll be able to advise us more specifically on what will and won’t work to prevent dragons from exposing us to humanity and possibly also setting the world on fire.
(Note to self: no dragons in drought-affected areas.)
Of course, Brandt’s definition of “mature and sensible” might be somewhat different from mine. We’ll just have to wait and see… and keep all our fingers and toes crossed.
We’re reaching the end of our visit, and I’m both mentally exhausted and revved up to get stuck into work. This has been very productive, and I’ll be able to get a lot done with the information we’ve obtained.
In case you were wondering, Gideon has been somewhat helpful.
Not very helpful, because he spent most of the day with his mouth closed and his expression set to resting bitch.
But he did occasionally chip in with information I didn’t know offhand, and he had a few suggestions for the best way to lay out settlements to allow for dragons.
“Everyone should be ready to go,” King Raeulfr is saying, “but if you’d like a tour first, I’m sure there’s time. We’d be so sad if you didn’t get to see at least a little of our world… before it’s too late.”
Tour? I try not to sound too chipper as I agree, because it really is devastatingly sad that their world will cease to exist. On the flip side, when the fuck else am I ever going to be able to explore a different dimension? This is my only chance to see the elf homeworld.
“Caolan can show you around,” Garin declares. “I’ll go and check on how things are going with the tactical team.”
“Of course,” Caolan replies, smiling at me in that way that seems just a little bit too intimate and always makes me think about what he’d be like in bed. Bad David. “Also check how soon the equerry thinks we can migrate His Majesty to Earth.”
The king’s brows shoot up. “I thought we were in a cease-fire about this? I’m not going early, Caolan.” He sets his jaw stubbornly.
I hesitate, because this isn’t something I should be getting into the middle of, but it’s also an item on my to-do list that I was eventually going to ask about, so…
“Actually, I was hoping that at some stage fairly early on we could have a ceremonial meeting between you and Percy,” I venture.
“Maybe sign an accord or something to make it seem official, and we’d livestream it throughout our community.
I’m sure we could come up with a weave or spell to share it here, with your people, too.
A show of unity and commitment to a peaceful integration. ”
Caolan and Garin are smiling. The king looks slightly disgruntled, which concerns me, and Brandt just seems thoughtful.
“Is this the outcome of a conspiracy?” the king grumbles. Fuck. Have I offended him?
“Of course, it’s not necessary,” I hasten to add, but he just waves a hand.
“It’s necessary to set a good example for all our people. I just don’t like having my preferences thwarted.” He sighs. “Please go ahead and arrange it, and I’ll make certain I’m there.”
“Thank you, I will.” I mentally move it from one part of my to-do list to another.
“Before we go,” Caolan says, “I think it would be a good idea to involve Dustin in the migration.”
Brandt’s jaw drops, and the king begins to sputter. My heart melts.
“Hear me out,” Caolan rushes on. “He’s a widely known member of the court, very well liked, and he’ll talk to anyone.
Assigning him as a sort of spokesperson visiting back and forth from Earth over the course of the migration will allow a transfer of information to civilians from someone they know and trust without having to pull officials away from their work. ”
This is a big problem. Huge. Mammoth, even.
I mentioned earlier that Caolan ticks a lot of boxes for me, physically and in terms of work ethic and dedication.
Well, today, watching him interact with his king and seeing how competent and trusted he is, he ticked a few more, and now, listening to him give that bored young man—dragon—a purpose, he fulfilled the entire fucking list. Because I might not have kids, but I used to work for the Community Integration Agency, and I’ve dealt with enough young people who are trying to find their place in the world to recognize one when I see him.
Is there anything hotter than a man with a social conscience?
“He’s flighty,” Brandt protests. “And not in the good way.”
There’s a good way to be flighty?
“He’s bored,” Caolan counters. “He needs something to focus on besides getting into trouble.”
“That’s what concerns me,” King Raeulfr begins. “What if he plays some of his pranks on Earth? This is a very delicate situation. The last thing we need is for him to give a poor impression.”
Caolan spreads his hands. “I believe if we give him a task and impress upon him how important it is, he won’t fail us. But if he does, I will take full responsibility. And I’ll take responsibility for him while he’s on Earth, since I’ll be there anyway.”
Fuck, he just keeps getting better. This is bad. Very, very bad.
I make myself relax. Percy said no fraternization while we’re working everything out. So, there we have it—it doesn’t matter if my self-control is faltering, because I’ve never acted in any way that would cause problems for CSG, and I’m not about to start now.
It’s all good. Really. It is.
The king and Brandt are still umming and ahhing, but Caolan seems to be talking them around. Garin is just standing there smirking like he knows a secret.
“Sam would help keep an eye on him,” Gideon says suddenly, and what?
Sam has enough to worry about without babysitting a hyperactive dragon who hit on his man.
Although, if Sam hears about that whole episode, there’s a good chance Dustin will be too cowed to even think about causing trouble.
Sam might seem affable and adorable, but he can be very scary.
Not to me, because I’m normal. But he did successfully wrangle a team of hellhounds for five years and is living with Gideon. So, yeah. Scary.
“He will?” Garin asks, sounding surprised. Possibly he’s also thinking back to what happened this morning.
“Yes. Sam’s a big believer in helping young people get on track,” Gideon says firmly. “And he’s a great person to ask for guidance when you’re unsure of something.”
That’s true.
Brandt looks at me. “What do you think?”
“I’m in favor of having a civilian liaison,” I admit. “I think it will ease a lot of the concerns your people are going to have. And it does need to be someone they know and trust. A young person who seems somewhat unofficial might have a better impact.”
He still looks doubtful, but asks, “You said he was well-behaved when you met him?”
Tricky, tricky, tricky. How to get around this without outright lying to our new allies. “I was very impressed by his manners,” I say. “Gideon?”
“Yes. And he was very… warm and friendly.”
I concentrate on not laughing. That’s certainly one way to put it.
Finally, they concede. “I’ll find him and tell him to get his things organized while you’re on your tour,” Brandt says. From the determined set of his mouth, I expect he plans to lecture his grandson into submission as well.
“Thank you,” Caolan says. “I think he’ll surprise you.”
The tour is… unbelievable. Even stoic Gideon seems impressed.
If this is what their planet is like with a tiny portion protected by a bubble and the rest mostly ravaged, I’m devastated to have missed out on seeing it in its full glory.
I can’t even begin to imagine how the elves and dragons must be feeling right now.
Of course, given that the deterioration has been going on for thousands of years, they might also just be relieved at the thought of getting to safety.