“Didn’t I tell you to waituntil afterMercury went direct again? It hasn’t finished its retrograde rotation. You humans really don’t listen.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
“I apologize, Goddess,” Antonio said. “I remember your saying that. I’m afraid we got sidetracked with wedding plans and scheduled events when everyone could attend…”
“What wedding?” she asked.
“Gabe’s.” Antonio pointed to his son, helplessly lying on his side. His big dragon wings were spread akimbo on the deck with his tiny bird legs and tail somewhere beneath him.
Thank heavens Misty isn’t here to see this.
Mother Nature sighed. “One of you dragon-phoenix couples asked me if I could give you children. At the time, I said, ‘Absolutely not.’ I didn’t want to create a new mutation called a dragnix—or phoegon. Well, a few moments ago, I was remembering that conversation, andblam. It looks like I made one accidentally.” She covered her eyes and shook her head. “Damn. When will I learn to ignore what you humans say you want?”
His brothers crept closer and took curious peeks at him. They also took a closer look at Mother Nature—and backed off pretty quickly when she gave them the hairy eyeball.
Luca pointed to Gabe’s bottom half. “Yeah. I see his red and yellow phoenix tail feathers and his bird legs, but the upper half of him is all dragon.”
Hearing that, Gabe began to panic. He’d go back to his human form if he could. He’d gladly live with scars and discolored skin, instead of this…this…abomination he had become. But he was afraid to shift, since he didn’t know what would happen with his top half. Would the bottom half of him be a human baby? Wouldn’t that be a hell of a thing to diaper?
He waited, hoping one or the other form would take over. One of them had to be dominant. Right? Gaia just strolled around him on the deck, as if studying her new creation. He didn’t fully become one paranormal being or the other. He flopped on the deck, trying to right himself.
Antonio pleaded with Mother Nature. “There has to be something we can do. What if we were to set him on fire again?”
“Nothing would happen, I’m afraid. Dragons are fireproof, and the phoenix half would just return from the ashes as the bottom half of a bird, like you see him now.”
Antonio dropped to his knees on the deck and patted Gabe’s big dragon head. “My poor son. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something we could do.”
“Well, for starters,” Mother Nature snapped, “you can stop asking me for the impossible. If dragons and phoenixes were supposed to procreate, they would be doing so.”
“But phoenixes and humans can,” Noah pointed out quietly.
“And dragons and humans can’t,” she replied harshly. “Can you imagine all the immature dragons walking the earth, setting my beautiful planet on fire every time they got frustrated or angry?”
She tossed her hands in the air. “I’ve had it with you stupid humans, just destroying things every time something doesn’t go your way. Did you know humans are the only animals who destroy their homes? And only those dragons with a responsible dragon parent, who can teach them to control themselves, get to procreate. I knew what I was doing all those millennia ago.”
“I’m sure you did, ma’am, but—”
Mother Nature rose a few feet off the deck and glared at him. “Do not call me ma’am! This is why I don’t reveal myself to modern humans. I’mGoddessto you, son number…number…” She dropped her hands to her sides as she landed on the deck again. “Oh, hell. I can’t keep you all straight.”
Antonio chuckled. “Neither can I.”
“That probably didn’t help with the mix-up,” she grumbled. “Look, I’ll straighten it out. Give me a minute to think.”
The mysterious goddess disappeared. A rumble of thunder was heard overhead, and a bolt of lightning hit the water.
“Oh boy,” Kristine muttered. “She’s pissed.”
A moment later, it began to rain. Gabe felt himself shrinking. The long, webbed wings gave way to shorter, feathered ones. His peripheral vision changed. He could see from his eyes on either side of his head, not from one direction facing forward.
“Oh, thank the Goddess!” Kristine cried.
Gabe was able to right himself onto his birdlike feet and happily hopped around the wet deck. He spread his phoenix wings and turned enough to admire his colorful tail.I’ll never complain about the color of our feathers again.
Everyone let out sighs of relief. Jayce retrieved the cage and opened the wire door. Gabe hopped right in. He was never so happy to fit into a bird cage in his life.
Antonio faced skyward. “Thank you, Gaia!” he called out.
“Yeah, yeah.” A female voice reverberated from everywhere and nowhere. “Now don’t bother me for at least a century. Okay?”
“Yes, Goddess,” Antonio said like a man who had learned the words “yes, dear” were sometimes the only acceptable answer.
