Jax slipped through a side door, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The dragon song was loud enough that it was obviously coming from somewhere in the building, but it bounced and echoed around the room, making it hard to pinpoint where exactly it was. Straw dust, visible in the slanted rays of light that filtered through the spaces between the boards, floated lazily in the air. The floor was covered in acarpet of the stuff, and a large pile stood like a shaggy mountain in the corner. Long poles were attached to one wall, allowing the plump chickens to roost in two levels, while brooding hens nested in the straw beneath, glaring at him with beady, suspicious eyes.
“Of course he would hide it in here,” he groaned. “Chickens. Why did it have to be chickens?”
As if in answer, the hens began a chorus of agitated clucking.
Jax held out his hands and dropped his tone to a soothing murmur. “I’m sorry, ladies. It’s nothing personal. I’m sure you’re very lovely.” His eyes scanned the room as he edged closer, looking for the telltale gold of the dragon egg. “You didn’t happen to see where he put it, did you?”
They didn’t answer—not that he actually expected them to—and Jax dropped to his hands and knees with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m afraid this situation is going to bring us closer than any of us would like, but if you don’t mind…”
He crawled along the length of the wall underneath the roosting poles, checking each nest for his missing egg. The chickens were none too pleased, raising a chorus of unhappy squawks and pecking at his hands and arms. He was just turning around to do another pass when the main door of the barn flew open with enough force that it hit the inside wall with a loud bang. Jax’s startled yelp died in his throat as he took in the figure standing in the doorway, brandishing an axe that would have taken at least three of his arms to lift and lit from behind with the late afternoon glow.
Jax wasn’t the tallest in his family, but the man before him put even the largest of his cousins to shame. If he had to guess, the giant was well over seven feet tall, with a frame wide enough to match and a scowl on his face that probably made most men tremble.
But Jax wasn’t most men. He was a Papageno, and though he might not have been fond of chickens, he certainly wasn’t going to cower in the corner like one.
“Well, that’s certainly a way to make an entrance.” He crawled forward until he was free of the roosting pole and stood, brushing the straw from his knees and straightening the strap of his satchel. He grinned up at the terrifying giant, channeling every inch of charm that he possessed. “Do you greet all your visitors by brandishing an axe, or am I just special?”
The question seemed to catch the giant by surprise. He blinked twice before adjusting his grip on the handle of the axe. “You’re not visiting, you’re breaking in.”
“Did I break something?” Jax responded, purposefully playing the empty-headed fool as he made a show of looking around. “I was trying to be very careful.”
The giant did not seem to be impressed by his charming fool act. He growled, “Get out.”
I can’t leave before I get that egg.
He gave the giant his full attention once more. “Before I go, I have just one question, Mister…” He let his voice trail off expectantly, hoping to give a name to the intimidating man before him.
Being able to name a fear made it far less terrifying.
“Atlas.”
“Atlas,” he repeated, adding a touch of false confidence into his introduction. “My name’s Jax.”
Atlas was even less impressed with the introductions. He stepped forward, crowding Jax’s space until he had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact.
“Look, Lassie—can I call you Lassie?” Jax forged ahead.Perfect. There’s nothing to fear from a Lassie.“Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve seen anyone else lurking around here lately?Tall, white hair, evil eyes that gleam, general mayhem in his wake, has a habit of breaking and entering?”
It wasn’t an entirely fair description. Drosselmeyer wasn’t really evil, and usually his proximity to mayhem was a classic case of correlation instead of causation, but Jax was still bitter about the fact that the wizard had taken his dragon egg, and so he stretched the truth just enough to make himself feel better.
“The only person matching that description is you,” Atlas grumbled.
He widened his eyes and touched the top of his head, knocking loose a piece of straw that had gotten stuck in his hair. “Really? It’s been a while since I’ve seen my reflection, but I didn’t realize I would age that quickly.”
A muscle along the side of the giant’s jaw flexed. “You have five seconds to leave before I start swinging.”
Wow. Someone needs to give this guy a cookie or something. He definitely needs to lighten up.
Jax shook his head and tsked in disappointment. “Your hospitality could use a little work, Lassie.”
Atlas lifted the axe just a little higher as he spoke slowly, “Four seconds now.”
I don’t really want to fight him. If we were back in the Spring Court, I might have enough magic to take him, but in this realm, he’ll squish me like a bug. I just need a way to distract—hey!
“You have a goose!” he exclaimed, dropping to one knee and holding out a hand to the unusually small, adorable white goose that waddled into the barn, completely unbothered by Atlas’s looming presence. “I love geese. Such misunderstood creatures.”
To his delight, the bird waddled right up to him with a happy honk, and he ran his fingers over the soft feathers on her head. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” he cooed.
“Phee, get away from him,” Atlas barked in a commanding tone.
