Page 7 of The Artist
Simon shrugged. “What about you?”
“We’ve grown from ten to eleven point five million within the last five years.”
Just then my attention was distracted by the sound of laughing. Aubri had picked up a sword and was swinging it above her head with a large grin.
“Come on, Indi. Wanna have a real sword fight?”
“Careful,” I shouted because my sister’s pretty face had enough scars as it was.
The others gathered around Aubri and Indiana, who danced around each other swinging the swords, while a distraught staff member from the park urged them to put the weapons down.
“Please don’t play with the exhibited items,” she urged.
Indiana’s strength helped him hold the heavy iron sword steadier than Aubri, who was starting to struggle a bit.
The crowd jumped back to move out of their way as Indiana drew Aubri backward, both of them still grinning from the excitement of having real iron swords in their hands. I walked in the direction of the play fight while Simon ran to see it up close. With a disrespectful push, he shoved Belle to the side to see better. Being only twelve and small for her age, she rose on her toes and tried to look over the shoulders of her group, who now blocked her view. From the way her head sank, it was clear she was disappointed in missing out on the fun.
Using my large body, I made my way between Simon and Victor and opened a path for her. At first, Belle blinked her eyes, looking unsure, but when I muttered a short “Come on” she slid in under my arm and stood in front of me where she could see the action.
Later that same night, we had our first meeting where we were asked to discuss subjects that mattered to us. The Motlanders brought up environmental protection plans. The French wanted to talk about trade, and Thor wanted to discuss drone traffic across borders.
None of it mattered since we weren’t in positions to make decisions anyway, but still the discussion got heated. The Motlanders were disturbed when we raised our voices, but luckily the French were worthy opponents when it came to arguing. They all debated fiercely, making great points, except Belle, who didn’t participate but silently doodled on a piece of paper.
When Jonah called off the meeting after having asked us to lower our voices several times, the other delegations left the room while we Northlanders gathered in the corner to process the day before splitting up in different tents.
Thor was our future ruler, but since he was three years younger than Indiana, Aubri, Freya, and me, he relied on our opinion.
“I’m not going to be quieted down by the Motlanders. If they can’t take some cussing and shouting then they shouldn’t have invited us,” I exclaimed.
Freya’s head kept turning as the rest of us summed up what we had learned.
“What is it?” Thor asked her.
“I saw Belle throw out her notes and I wonder why she’s not saving them.” When the French delegation left the room, Freya had moved to the trash can in the corner and pulled out the papers.
None of the others paid her any attention but the way she straightened out the crumpled-up papers and widened her eyes made me curious, so I waited for Freya as we all left the room.
“So?”
Freya lifted her gaze to mine. Her long brown hair was braided, and she wore a loose green dress that stopped halfway down her thighs. “It’s not notes, it’s drawings.”
“Oh.”
“They’re good. I think you’ll like this one.”
I took the paper she handed me and saw an artistic drawing of me and Belle.
“She drew you as a giant.”
“I can see that.” The resemblance between the drawn giant and me was undeniable, and as a fun detail a ladder stood leaning against my chest with a doll-sized version of Belle balancing on top. In the drawing her head was leaned forward to meet mine with her eyes closed, and her lips pursed as if she wanted to kiss my nose.
“She’s talented.” Freya showed me a few other drawings. One showed Victor shouting with bulging eyes and smoke coming out of his ears. They revealed that Belle had a sense of humor.
“I’m keeping this one,” Freya said with a smile and moved to the others, who were already halfway out the door.
Folding Belle’s drawing, I slid it in my pocket wondering if the kiss she had drawn was a matter of her gratitude toward me for using my size to help her earlier today.I was raised to protect the weak and seeing how the young girl had depicted me as a giant made me proud.
I might be sixteen, but I was already close to seven feet like my father, Magni. If I could use my size and strength to help someone as small and innocent as Belle, I would be honored to do so.
