Chapter 16 Xolotl
Xolotl
It’s always like this.
Humans never really believe what I am when I first wake. It takes some time to draw out the ones who matter and show them what I am. But once they really see, once they understand that I can’t be defeated or killed, they usually capitulate rather easily.
The missiles, the glorious, beautiful, blessed missiles, finally stop coming, and the jets stop making so many passes. I don’t crush these, because soon they’ll be my jets.
General Phillips was an idiot, but his second-in-command is smarter.
“My name’s General Barerra,” a short man with dark hair says. “I’d like to welcome you to California.” He bows to me.
That’s more like it.
“You may stand,” I say. “Thank you for finally showing me the deference I deserve.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” His brow furrows. “Or how would you have us address you?”
“You can decide all of that sort of thing,” I say. “I don’t care about titles or words.”
“What do you want me to do, sir?” he asks. “How can we best serve you?”
“I’m here for one reason. The humans of this time have grown imbalanced. They’re ill in their minds, because they no longer have an enemy. They have no real things to fear, so they make up enemies for the sake of balance.”
He nods vehemently. “Yes, I can see that, sir.”
“Times of peace—they’re fine as long as they don’t last too long.”
“We’ve been at peace far too long, sir. I completely agree.”
“I’d like your help in making a plan,” I say. “My champion tells me that California’s full of sick people.”
General Barerra blinks. “Your champion?”
“She crossed the field to that hangar not long ago,” I say. “I’ll collect her soon, but she’s never to be harmed. You must obey her as you would me.”
He salutes. “Of course, sir.”
“I’m considering ways to start a war that will eliminate most of the weak, sickly humans and make way for a healthier life for those who remain.”
“America’s already at war,” he says. “It’s split right down the middle among its citizens. You’re right when you said society’s sick. They’re practically at one another’s throats already.”
“Tell me more.” I can’t help a pang of pleasure at his words.
“Let me know how to fuel this fire and get things started. I haven’t been awake in some time, not since the humans were enslaving others of their own kind.
” I can’t help my disgust. “The last war I started ended that grotesque practice and set the land on the path to healing and growth.”
“Are you talking about the Civil War?”
“I agree that a tall, gangly man with a homely appearance was a strange general, but that Abraham Lincoln had a surprising dark streak and understood that health and balance always has a cost.”
He splutters.
“Preliminarily, I’m considering shearing off the infested state of California. It could simply be dumped into the ocean. Then we’ll have to work to create conflict throughout the rest of the United States.”
He has some surprisingly good suggestions, and we talk for a bit, but then he tells me he has quarters for me, if I need to rest, and I realize that while I do not need to rest, Whitney might. I can still feel her bond, but it seems she’s gone a little farther from the conflict than I expected.
When I actually start to move toward the hangar, she’s not there. She’s gone. I was so distracted by the attack and the stupid general that she escaped. She can’t have gone far, but it feels like she’s gone a very long distance indeed.
I return to the military base, and General Barerra attends me immediately. “Sir, what’s wrong?”
“My human’s missing.” I say. “One of your men must have taken her somewhere.”
They argue amongst themselves about it, which bothers me.
“Where is she?” I can at least sense their thoughts and know that none of them know anything.
They aren’t lying about having nothing to do with her moving farther from me, sadly.
A lying human’s easy to crack, but if they have no knowledge of something, they can’t help me.
“Carry on with our plans. The United States is going to war. Whether it’s with neighboring countries or with itself, I don’t much care.
If you’re on my side, we’ll win. But first I need to collect my champion. ”
I storm out, and I take to the skies, following the sensation of our bond. It doesn’t help that Whitney’s somehow able to block my efforts to read her thoughts. I finally reach the location I felt her, but when I arrive, it’s a small town north of Travis Air Force Base, and Whitney isn’t there.
A tight feeling in my chest makes it almost hard to breathe. Without thinking, I deploy two missiles into the tiny city center. Then I reach out and sense anyone else who survived, and I eliminate them all.
The rush of magic doesn’t help. I still feel ill.
And I know exactly what Whitney would be saying right now. She’d be freaking out on me, even though I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.
I miss her anger. I miss her frustration.
“Whitney Brooks, come back!” I shout as loudly as I possibly can. “Stop hiding!”
But there’s no one to hear me.
So I move again, following the faint pull of her bond, but again, at the next town, she’s still not present. I snuff out the closest life forces in my rage, but then I stop, knowing how upset she’ll be when I find her if she discovers I left a trail of wiped-out cities in my wake.
It happens four more times.
I feel her. I know I’m close. But when I arrive, she’s gone.
The fifth time, I feel something else. The difference upsets me.
It’s pain.
Is it Whitney’s?
Then moments later, there’s an attack. Earth, lightning, and fire, all at once. I pull and pull, honing in on their location, and then I yank all that power into myself, hoping it was fast enough that whatever attacked couldn’t harm her at all.
But then she’s gone. Again.
Someone’s doing this on purpose. I consider summoning my brothers, but I know they’re not involved.
They heard my threat. They know that if I set my mind to it, I could end them.
As my rage grows, I realize that it might be covering for something else.
A feeling I dislike tremendously. A feeling I’ve never really experienced before.
Something horrible. Something debilitating. Something grotesque.
Fear.
I follow her to another small human encampment, far, far from California now, and before I destroy everyone in it, I notice a small building that’s white on the bottom and red on the rounded roof. The sign says ‘White Manna Hamburgers.’ My breath catches, and my stomach growls at me.
I’m hungry—at least, this strange pull, like a demanding complaint from my belly, is exactly the way Whitney described the human sensation.
I walk inside, and I order, surprised to find that I still have a stack of that paper humans like in my pocket.
I plonk two of the hundred-dollar papers down, and the staff scramble to bring me the ten burgers I ordered.
I consume them all, but I don’t feel better.
I need to get Whitney back.
I won’t feel right until I do.
So I move again and again, until finally I realize that I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve chased her to a new place.
But then something happens that I haven’t yet felt. It’s like an explosion in the bond of sorts. She—I don’t know what happened. It hurts, even me, so I fear what may have happened to her. A backlash of light magic shoots down the bond, slapping into me hard.
This time, I jump to where she is fast, and when I arrive, I gasp.
She’s here.
I hope she’s not injured.
I need to find her fast, so I focus. I practically sprint around the corner from where I landed, and then I see it.
There’s a small human home, set up on an otherwise barren hill.
It’s not very cold here, so we must be somewhere southern.
I race up the hill, and I rip the front door open, and there she is.
Tied and gagged.
Rage consumes me, mixed with just a little relief. I thought she’d run away. But if she was kidnapped, that means she didn’t want to leave me. I realize that a lot of my fear came from that concern, that she left me on purpose. What a stupid thing to fear—that she might not like me.
“Whitney. You’re alright?”
She nods, her eyes finding mine. Her expression is strange though, not like the way she usually looks at me.
A man steps out from a small doorway, and he presses a knife against her throat. “You have a choice to make, Xolotl. You’ll have to decide how much Whitney matters to you. You can either free her from your bond, or I’ll kill her right here, right now.”
I try to snatch his life-force away, but something blocks me. Baba Yaga steps out from behind him. “Ah, ah,” she says. “He’s mine. You can’t take him so easily.”
“Maybe not easily,” I say. “But I can take him.”
“Wrong answer,” the man says. “I suppose you don’t care whether she lives or dies after all.” And he plunges the knife into Whitney’s smooth, soft throat.