Page 77 of Made

Jack’s beanstalk, Keir thought, reminded of one of Evie’s tales.

“Well. There’s the quickest way to get there…” Killian offered.

“You mean flying?” Keir asked.

Killian nodded. “But the question is whether that’s the best plan?”

“Even if we hug the incline, she might see us,” Keir said.

“Or hear us,” Kagan added. “We have no way of knowin’ if she’s already heard us.”

“True,” Killian agreed, cocking his head to the side. “’Tis extraordinarily quiet. I hear no sound at all.” There was, in fact, not a single bird chirp. Not even the sound of an insect fluttering tiny wings or a lizard darting toward a fly.

“Me either,” Keir said before turning to Kagan. “What feels best?”

Kagan continued to look upward, studying the rugged ascent, much of which was smooth rock. “Without gear, it does no’ look scalable.”

“We could minimize the risk of flying,” Keir said.

“How?” Killian asked.

“One of us could fly, the other two could ride. Or hang on. It would minimize our presence. Three largish flying lions is harder to hide.”

He waited while Kagan and Killian processed that.

Finally, Killian asked, “Hang on to what?”

Kagan joined his brother in looking expectantly at Keir, who said, “Ah. I don’t know. A foot?”

“A foot?” Killian’s incredulity caused his response to be louder than it should be. Keir reminded him about the prudence of shush by slapping a palm over his mouth. Killian shoved Keir’s hand aside and whispered, “Okay. Quiet as a little mouse holding onto a foot. Whose will it be?” He looked at Keir. “Yours?” He looked at Kagan. “Yours?”

“How did you get eliminated from the pool?” Keir asked.

Killian looked straight up. “I’m no’ carryin’ you bloody beggars up there. I’m here to show solidarity. No’ give you a kiddie ride to dinner.”

“Dinner?” Kagan looked confused.

“Aye. Dinner,” Killian said. “No’ ours.” He glanced upward. “Hers. Seein’ as how we’re all three likely to be stayin’ here permanently in the bowels of that sphinx. No’ spendin’ my last hour carryin’ your tacos while you do yer levelest to drag me down.”

“You know,” Keir said to Killian. “You always were a drama queen.”

Killian’s mouth dropped open. “A what?”

“You heard me,” Keir said.

“I heard ye, but can no’ believe what I heard. Am I speakin’ to the grandstandin’ bugger sometimes known as the enforcer?” Killian voiced “enforcer” in a ridiculing sing-song and did a little dance while pretending to lift an imaginary skirt.

“Had no idea you were jealous of the fact that I’m employed,” Keir said. “But thank you for the slip-up and confirmation. I’ve always suspected you wear skirts when no one is around.”

“Haud yer wheesht!” Kagan said. “Mess about some other time.”

Keir and Killian stared at Kagan, having not yet gotten used to him being so outspoken and assertive.

“Right you are,” Killian said. “What do you want to do?”

“We’ll fly,” Kagan said. “All three of us. One at a time. I’ll go first. If she catches me… well, ‘tis kind of what I’m here for, I suppose. If that happens, say that damnable name out loud and go home.”

Without giving Keir or Killian a chance to reply, Kagan shifted and flew upward, staying as close to the rock face as possible. He was concerned about the stillness of the air and the lack of sound because the air resistance necessary to keep a giant lion aloft means each flap of wings makes noise. Whether it was loud enough to catch the sphinx’s attention, no one could know.

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