Page 22 of Ensnared
Gordon frowns. “Nice try. No tactical information. But there are also strike blessed. They’re silver and they control electrical currents.”
One of them took my mother. I grit my teeth and nod.
“They can fly, like the flame blessed.”
“I’ve seen them.”
“And there are water blessed,” he says. “They keep to bodies of water whenever possible and complain absurdly when forced to walk instead of swim.”
“How did you get here, then?”
“Tactical,” he says.
“But—”
“His Majesty can share that if he chooses. The last kind of blessed is the earth blessed, and we’re the most plentiful.” He beams. “I am, of course, earth blessed, as is His Majesty, the Prince of the Earth Blessed. That’s why he was able to ensnare a human, a feat we were told wasn’t possible.”
“Goodie,” I say.
“Now, keep your promise, and stay here. He thinks he’ll be free to see you in the morning.”
I’ve heard that before, but I don’t argue. I just nod my head.
“I mean it.” Gordon points at me. He’s learning human movements quickly. He’s also finally replaced the idiotic Jedi Knight outfit with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a tiny green dragon on it that says, “Fear me. I’m dragon.” I didn’t really take him for an ironic kind of guy, but it’s funny. The one on his shirt actually resembles Rufus a little. I wonder whether that’s why he chose it.
“Hey, where did you find that shirt?” I ask.
But it’s too late. He’s already on his way out.
I wait for more than an hour after he leaves, just to be safe.
“You’ll all hide until I come back.” I’m making the kiddos lock themselves into the office at the back of the store. No windows. Metal doors. Locks from the inside. If it had a vault, I’d try to force them in there. “You have enough food for several days. Don’t come out for Rufus, do not come out for Axel, and definitely don’t come out for Gordon, no matter what they say.”
“But I like Gordon,” Sammy says.
I glare.
“We’ll keep him inside and quiet,” Coral says.
I’m sure they’ll be fine. Right? Right. I’ll be back before they even get sick of playing with Sammy’s Legos.
That’s a lie, of course. They’re already sick of them. My six-year-old brother packed the smartest thing out of all of us, and it was the thing I almost made him leave. They’ve been playing twenty questions and I spy so much that if I have to hear “I spy with my little eye” one more time, I might cut someone.
Before I leave, I grab a fireplace poker and an ornamental sword that I found in an Oriental-themed room. It’s probably not really smelted right, but it’s better than nothing at all. Or at least, I hope it is. I’d rather not find out.
I also grab my backpack. It should cover up most of the sword that’s showing, and it’ll have the added benefit of providing my reason for leaving. I can say that we need food that Gordon just isn’t finding, right?
But what I really want, in order, is:
A way to contact the humans.
An idea of how many dragons there are.
Ways we might escape.
Axel barely seems to remember we’re here. He shouldn’t care much if we leave. If he catches me leaving and gets upset, I can explain that sending Gordon once a day to bring us food is a violation of his agreement to keep us safe. That seems reasonable.
I creep out the front doors, which fly open loudly, unhelpfully announcing my departure. But there’s no one to see it. The entire area’s totally abandoned. I walk past an Urban Air jump park, a steakhouse, a Waffle House, and then I see what I’ve been looking for—a gas station. They always have map books, right?
