Page 14 of Avelina

When Aaron had called it a dragon earlier, I had imagined something very different from this birdlike animal. It was about the size of a horse with a body covered in red iridescent scales and a bright orange crest that ran from the back of its head all the way down to its tail. Its wings were covered in multicolored feathers and ended in a single hooked talon. It was gorgeous, other than the pool of dark red rapidly expanding beneath its head.

That had been an amazing shot, especially with an eye full of blood.

Aaron noticed the state I was in and rose from his crouching position. He walked over to me, peering down, once again reminding me of how massive he was.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

My face stung like it had been splashed with spider spit and a little had gotten in my eyes. My vision had blurred momentarily, but it was already clearing. I brushed away my tears and willed myself to stop crying. “I’m fine,” I lied, wiping snot from my nose with my muddy tank top. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. “Why was its blood so hot?”

“It vomits fire,” he said simply. “Its whole body is hot. That’s why I used my last bolt on it. It was about to cook you for dinner.”

I nodded, my face tight. “Makes sense,” I said, getting to my feet.

“It’s been stalking us since before Rogue and I found you. They’re pretty easy to kill if you can get them before they vomit on you. Especially if they’re small like this one.” His face was more or less neutral, but those wrinkles at the corners of his eyes had reappeared.

I narrowed mine. “You think this is funny!” I accused.

A small smile finally invaded his face, and he said, “Well, it’s my turn.” It was slightly disturbing to see him smirking with a face smattered with blood, but I was too annoyed to care. “You really are from over there, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Over there? Why? Because if I was from over here, then fire-vomit would be normal?” I asked, gesturing to the downed dragon.

“Yes. At least, outside of Neesee it is,” he said, watching my face. I wondered what he was looking for.

“Neesee,” I repeated. “That girl said she was from Neesee.”

“What girl?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

I shrugged because, as always, I had forgotten her damned name. “She was taller than me with black hair to here.” I motioned to my neck. “She had very, very red lips and stupid yellow pants.” He nodded as I spoke. “In my head, her name is Psycho Snow White,” I added.

“Did she have a man with her?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, but she didn’t need any help. She picked me up and threw me into the . . . the . . .” I felt ridiculous saying the word “portal” out loud. Portals are not real. I looked over at the dragon. It was possible I needed to reevaluate my belief system.

“Bridge,” Aaron said. My eyes flicked back to him. He was no longer smiling. “That’s what they call it.”

“Bridge? Do you know how to use it?” I asked, almost whispering the question.

He didn’t answer right away. He reached up to my chin, turning my head to examine my cheek. His skin was rough, but his touch was surprisingly gentle. I could feel him through the contact and was struck, once again, by a feeling of grief. The subtle whiff of hope I had sensed earlier was gone, fallen from its perch. “No,” he said finally. “I was hoping that you could help me with that.”

I clenched my jaw, pulling my face out of his hand. He lowered his arm, frowning.

“Is that why you’re helping me?” I asked.

He sighed loudly, then turned and stalked over to the dragon, bending down to pick it up. “Not exactly,” he said.

I was about to push further into this line of questioning, but at the sight of Aaron heaving the giant creature up by its tail and slugging it over his back, I couldn’t help but squeal, “Holy crap! That thing must weigh half a ton! How in the hell are you lifting it?”

He turned back to me, a vertical line splitting the space between his eyebrows, right next to the gash above his right eye. “It’s only two-fifty, maybe less,” he said.

“Two hundred and fifty pounds is heavy.”

“Pounds? What are pounds? No, two hundred fifty kilos.”

I lifted one eyebrow. “I have no idea what that means.”

Aaron shrugged, then turned away. Blood trailed behind him from the dragon’s pierced neck, dribbling a circle of dark red dots. A few clumps of nearly black, clotted blood squished out.

I wrinkled my nose. “Bleck,” I said. “It’s basically a big dead bird, isn’t it?”

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