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I slide off Azar’s back and drop to the ground. As I walk toward the table, all the bonded bow their heads.
They bow every time they see me, and it makes me nuts.
“Stop that nonsense.”
But other than Sammy, Coral, and Jade, they keep their heads down as if they’re saying grace.
“Knock it off, I said.”
They all lift their head at the same time, like marionettes, and I realize that I forced them. Only one of them meets my eyes when they pop up—my mom.
Her words come back to me then. Who better to protect children from monsters than. . .another monster?
Only, she’s not the only one who is scared of me. She’s not the only one whom I forced to obey. They all see me the same way—monstrous.
I reach the empty chair in the center of the table, and I realize that Azar’s walking right behind me, hovering. He wants to make sure no one’s rude, I imagine. He’s worried about me, which I appreciate. But it’s not necessary.
Monsters don’t have feelings that can be bruised. Right?
“What are all of you grateful for?” I look up and down the table at the hundred and eighteen bonded humans. They’re young. Old. White. Black. Hispanic. Indian. Asian. Male. Female. There’s no unifying theme or consistency, though I heard there’s a father and a daughter among them. I haven’t spent enough time getting to know them, but I’ve had a lot going on, what with my bond, Azar’s demands, and my siblings.
Penelope stands at the far end, her silver hair shining. “I’m grateful for an entwined leader who cares about us, who cares about the rest of the humans serving us, and who cares about doing the right thing.”
Azar’s roar surprises me, but the other blessed join him right away.
A cerulean-haired woman stands next, her dark brown eyes shining. “I’m grateful for my bond to Jericho. I know most of you here wish you hadn’t been bonded, but I don’t. I love swimming with him, and I love seeing things I’d never have seen in a million years.”
A terribly large and long blue dragon, shaped a bit like a blue version of Gordon, is standing just behind her. He tosses his head, and I know it must be Jericho. It’s the first evidence I’ve found that Azar and I aren’t the only pair who aren’t totally miserable with our bonds.
“I’m also grateful for my blessed.” An older man with bright silver hair stands—but honestly, it looks from the lines in his face like the color might not have shifted much when he was bonded. “I know most of you were terrified when you were bonded, but Helvetica asked me whether I’d mind before bonding me.” His smile’s shy. “My wife passed six months ago, and this has been the first happy thing that has happened to me since.”
“You can’t really expect most of us to be grateful for being made slaves.” Mom’s eyes are flashing. I know her dragon’s not here, but I’m worried that she can still feel what Mom’s saying.
How many of you regret being bonded? Azar asks. And how many of you were bonded against your will?
I expect most of the humans to stand, or raise their hand, or something, but no one says a word. No one even moves.
“They won’t be willing to risk the ire of their blessed or of you, my lord.” Mom stands. “But it’s no secret that I regret it. I hate my bond. It was done entirely against my will.”
Mom’s back with a vengeance, and what she said to me this morning—it was hard, but I’m glad she’s acting like herself. It feels like something vital that was lost has returned. Even if that vital thing despises me, I wouldn’t wish it gone.
Choices aren’t something the blessed value overmuch, Azar says. In fact, it’s not even encouraged, for the blessed to make their own decisions. Certainly not when they defy the will of their rulers.
Azar, Prince of Flames. Axel, Prince of the Earth Blessed. They like their rulers and their orders. They maintain a pecking order—even among the blessed.
“Humans have leaders, and we’re expected to obey laws, but we also value individual choice,” I say. “And I’m grateful that you’ve allowed me to make most of mine.”
Without fear of reprisal from your blessed, how many of you bonded humans would dissolve your bond if given the chance? Azar seems to be in earnest, but I fear that he’s in for a real shock if they believe his offer of protection and speak honestly.
Mom stands.
So do a dozen other humans.
And then another dozen.
“Azar doesn’t ask empty questions,” I say. “If you really wish you could dissolve your bond, stand. Your blessed won’t punish you for it.”
They will not. Not unless they want me to incinerate them against their will.
