AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But only when you were bonded to that big dragon, right?” He narrows his eyes. “So we’ll be testing whether it was the blades, or some sort of magic from that bond.”
“It could be the magic of the blades,” I say, “but that still won’t help you.”
“Unless they attach the blades to the end of an ice spear,” the scientist says.
My stomach sinks. If I don’t steal the swords, they’ll try to use them against Hyperion. They only have them because of me. So his death would also be my fault. “You do realize that once you destroy all the dragons here, more will come, right?”
Gideon frowns.
“Only a fraction of the dragons in existence are here on Earth,” I say. “They sent an advance force to try and recover the heart. It’s not an attack. It’s a mission. But if you slay them, they’ll send more, and you can bet that the second round will focus first on an attack.” I mean, I don’t know that, but it’s a decent guess.
“Did Azar say that?” Gideon asks.
I’m not about to start telling him everything that Azar told me, but the humans should at least be warned about the idiocy of what they’re doing. “You’re poking a bear.”
“They’re here to steal from us, though.” Gideon folds his arms. “Will you test the blades, or not?”
“I asked which dragon.” Now my lips are pursed, and I’m glaring. If they’re keeping track, I’m not doing the best job of showing them that I’m on the human side. I try to blank my face.
“Which one do you want to try attacking?” the scientist asks. “Maybe the one surrounded with the citric boric acid mixture. With your boots, you won’t even notice it, probably.”
I pretend to be examining the dragons, but really, I’m looking for the central control he mentioned. At first, all I see are a bunch of boxes, soldiers with guns, and the support poles holding up the tent structure. But then, just behind one of the largest piles of supplies, I see it. There’s a large grey box with wires coming from the ground and feeding into it. It must control the electricity to the whole place.
Unfortunately, from literally any dragon cage, there’s no way for me to reach it. Even hurling one of the swords, it’s not possible for me to strike any part of it. If I still had my very limited, uncontrolled telepathic powers, maybe I could come up with some kind of Hail Mary, but my bond’s gone, and so is everything else.
I checked in the shower, desperate for anything that still ties me to Azar or Axel. . .and the backs of my shoulders are entirely smooth and clean, like I’d never been bonded at all.
I have no idea which dragon to try and maim.
“It’s not rocket science,” Gideon says. “Just pick a dragon.”
The one right by me has no back feet. How fast can it really move? Phileas is fast, but I’m pretty sure he’ll try to eat me. I wonder whether I can still talk to them without my bond. Was my ability to communicate something I could do because I’m a bright? Or because I was bonded? I could hear Ocharta before I was bonded, but probably just because she was projecting.
Maybe I could ask them whether they’re mad, but what would I say exactly? ‘Hey there, do you hate me? Are you wanting to eat me for killing your boss? Or do you realize that I didn’t mean to hurt Azar?’
Actually, I don’t even know when they were taken. They may have no idea what happened that day, like I knew nothing when I woke up. Or even if they know Azar died, I have no idea what they think about Axel. No one knew he was Azar, so in their mind, they may think he’s just missing.
“This one,” a voice from the front of the dome calls. “She should start here.”
It’s my mom.
My mom the hippy, who won’t eat the flesh of any living creature, wearing army fatigues, complete with laced up combat boots and a handgun clipped to her belt.
I couldn’t be more shocked if she was chowing down on a roasted turkey leg at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo.
“He’s been aggressive,” Mom says, “and we keep having to gas him.”
Gas him?
That sinks in about the same time as I realize that my mom’s here, working for the military in their dragon-torture research facility, or she wouldn’t know what they ‘keep having to do.’ I suppose it makes sense. She and the other bonded are about as close to experts about dragons as it gets, but it’s still my mom, the pacifist. The vocal supporter of all things liberal. She’s here, advocating that I, what? Stab a dragon?
“Actually, I know Phileas, so I’m not sure that it’s the best idea for me to?—”
It’s your best chance. The words are faint, like the volume on my speaker’s turned down to ultra-low, but the message is there. Mom’s thought is clear in my mind, like a bell.
My mouth dangles open.
She scowls and shakes her head tightly. “Isn’t that for the best? If you know him, maybe his guard will be down.”
