“It’s a word to describe a large and stupid person,” Liz says.“Which you were being, with all your early-morning bellowing.”
It was close to midday in Iceland when I woke you.
“I hadn’t slept in two days,” Liz says.“Besides, in Utah, it wasn’t midday, so waking earlier would have been pointless.”
Did you injure yourself, not sleeping enough?Why do I care?Why am I even asking?She’s the one who appointed herself to take over this task, and how she does or doesn’t do it, or how much she sleeps, shouldn’t matter to me.
“Never mind.”
Another human wearing something similar to the faux dragon-hide outfit walks past.How many of these people are wearing something like what you wore?
Liz shrugs.“I noticed a few.Four?Maybe five?”
That’s when I realize that she did it again.I ordered her to finish her thought about where they saw her gift of clothing, and she didn’t.She changed the subjectagain.I step closer to her, lowering my head until I’m closer to her face.When did they see you wearing the clothing I specially made for you?
“We still have another location to visit.”Liz gestures.“Actually, I just heard back from Jean’s friend, so now we have two.All of those who are coming with us, gather together.You’ll stay close to your bonded dragon to spare Axel any extra hassle or trouble.”
If they knew anything about the blessed at all, they’d know Axel couldn’t open portals.Luckily, the humans are all clueless, though I’m not quite sure what we gain by keeping it a secret that I didn’t die.Still, I hardly want to point out to Liz that her ‘battle strategy’ is totally unnecessary for utterly unmatched opponents.The blessed don’t need an edge.If we chose, we could utterly decimate the humans in every way.
I fear that facing that truth would upset her.
“My dragon says the gold one’s the prince of the earth blessed,” Jean says.“And that he’s also somehow the flame dragon—the one we all saw die.”
Liz frowns, but for the humans coming with us, they would have heard soon enough.
Jean presses forward.“Weren’t you bonded?”She frowns.“Why aren’t you now?Or are you?My dragon says you’re not bonded now, and your hair isn’t red anymore, so something must have happened, but he’s not dead like we thought.”
“We have less than ten minutes before we need to leave,” Liz says.“I need to talk to the humans who are staying and choose someone who will reach out to me about a time and place tomorrow.”She walks away.
Clearly I’m not the only one whose questions she ignores.In this case, I know why she wandered off.I suspect Liz would be agreeable to bond me again, with her weird nonsense about missing me.That’s part of my reticence about it, honestly.Bonding Liz won’t be simple.Things with us will grow even more complicated than before if I bond her again.
“I guess that’s not a question you want to answer,” Jean mutters.
I need to bond a human,I say.But I find that I don’t want to bond Liz, and yet the idea of bonding anyone else disgusts me.
“I didn’t grow up dreaming of dragons,” Jean says.“Even without a preconceived notion of what you’d be like, you’re not at all what I expected.”
Maybe she’ll tell me what Liz won’t.Why are so many human women wearing the strange outfits with both gold and red dragon scales?
Jean grimaces, but she pulls her phone out of her pocket.“I could show you, but I’m not sure we’ll have enough reception out here.”She starts tapping on her phone.“When I tried to call my brother earlier, we were disconnected.”
Reception?
“Actually, it’s working.”She holds up the tiniest little picture I’ve ever seen.
I crouch as low as I can, turning so that one of my eyes can see the speck.It’s—the humans are attacking us, and the ground is barren and in places, snow-covered.We must be in Iceland.
This is the attack where I die?I feel angry, sad, and curious.How are you recreating the attack?I peer closer.
Liz returns, her lip twisted in mirth.“You think they’re recreating it?”She rolls her eyes.“Humans use technology to save images of things—we call them video or movies.I think you called them transmissions, probably because we sent them via satellite.”
We thought those transmissions were human magic, so now I feel a little foolish.I was jesting.I knew it was a recording.
“Are you sure?”Liz tilts her head.“Because I feel like you making a joke is weirder than you not knowing about video recordings.”
Now it seems like she’s making a joke—at my expense.I have an excellent manner with others.
“Sure you do, Stalin.Everyonelovesyou.”Liz’s smirk bugs me, but not as much as it did at first.For some reason, it almost feels like I’minon the joke.
