Jax rubbed his tired,gritty eyes as the clock in the library chimed the hour. Sunset had long since come and gone, and he was still no closer to an answer than when he started. Dmitri had been telling the truth when he said that Kovskia’s history had been largely free of magical mishaps, and the few that were recorded had been the result of petty disputes. There were no guidelines on how to deal with a man who had cursed three innocent people and forced them to live as animals in his Menagerie.
“Although, under any other circumstance, that would be a cause for celebration, not a sore spot,” he grumbled as he stretched the muscles in his back and neck. “Maybe Bean can eat him.”
“I’m fairly certain that would be bad for his digestion.”
Jax yelped and jumped up from his chair so quickly that it fell backwards to the floor. He spun toward the familiar voice with a scowl. “Do you ever enter a room like a normal person?”
A tall man in light blue robes stood between him and the flickering fire in the hearth that was providing the light for Jax to read by. His white beard hung down to his chest, and his blue eyes were bright and piercing underneath bushy eyebrows that resembled fat caterpillars on his forehead. Despite his white hair and wrinkles, the wizard Drosselmeyer was surprisingly spry and, as Jax knew from his experience with the cliff, apparently as physically capable as a man a third his age.
His eyes twinkled. “I could, but then where would I find my enjoyment?” Jax could practically see the sparkles of magic in his warm baritone voice.
“You could ask someone to tell you a joke. Or read a book. Or find a hobby.”
“And if my hobby is sneaking up on unsuspecting Bird Catchers?”
Jax pulled a face as he leaned down to right his chair. “At least it’s better than dropping them headfirst into strange realms without any warning.”
Drosselmeyer hummed. “Would a warning have made the experience any different?”
He paused for a moment, considering. “I suppose not. If anything, Odessa and Dmitri are the ones who would have benefitted most. Do you know how hard it is to convince someone that you’re not from their world, but you’re also not crazy?”
“Yes.”
It was not the answer Jax was expecting, though perhaps he should have been. “Oh. Well then. Are you here to send me back?”
He looked over his shoulder at the pile of books on the table, and regret knifed through his chest at the thought that he wouldn’t be able to see his part through.
But it’s probably for the best this way. I don’t think I can stand by and watch as Odessa flirts and laughs and marries someone else.
Drosselmeyer’s voice was gentle. “That depends. Do you want to go back?”
Jax’s attention flew back to the wizard. “What?”
“Do you want to go back?”
“Do I have a choice? I’m sure my family is worried out of their minds, and if I’m gone much longer, I won’t hear the end of my Father’s lecture on responsibility until I’m 80.” He forced a laugh. “Besides, I have to show him my dragon and prove that I’m not nearly as much of an embarrassment as he feared.”
“There is always a choice.”
Jax closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know the whole ‘wizards are vague and mysterious’ thing is important for your image, but would you mind explaining thingsclearly for once? Because it certainly didn’t feel like there was much of a choice when you stole my dragon egg and led me up a Beanstalk and then let me fall to what I was certain was my death.”
“You could have chosen not to pursue the egg. You could have gone home,” Drosselmeyer said, his voice growing stern. “You chose to climb the Beanstalk yourself rather than wait to send a message up. You chose to tarry at Atlas’s home rather than leave right away. You chose to help his goose rather than try to save yourself. Don’t delude yourself into thinking you were powerless, Jax.”
He threw his hands up in exasperation. “And you could have chosen not to steal it in the first place!”
“True.” The wizard was annoyingly calm in the face of his emotions. “But I needed to know which you would choose.”
Jax turned the chair around and threw himself down. “I redirect your attention to my previous request that you explain things clearly.”
Drosselmeyer crossed his arms but remained standing. “Why did you chase the egg?”
“You already know the answer,” he groused. “I wanted to prove to Father that I’m not the blight on the family legacy.”
“Your father loves you, Jax. Don’t put words in his mouth that he has never said out of your own assumptions that they may be true. He wants to see you happy and fulfilled. His worry for you is rooted in his fear that you will chase after dreams and never be satisfied.”
“Right. Because I ‘lack responsibility.’”
“No. Because your heart recognized what your mind did not—that you were made for something more.”
