Live and Let Fly

by Karina Fabian

Had to admit…I liked how they all called me "sir."

  Rak answered as he stepped forward to retrieve the coils. He didn't so much as wince, but then again, he had gloves on.

  I answered, "These aren't just any intestines. These are the guts of Narfi, son of Loki and Sigyn, used by the gods of Asgard to bind Loki in eternal punishment."

  "No shit, sir?"

  "Demigods and semi-eternal but close enough. Point is, if we want to catch Loki again, we'll need them. This is the only thing that will hold him."

  The Marine who'd grabbed and discarded the intestines regarded them dubiously. "You sure, sir? We Mundanes have a lot of strong cables."

  "Not that will hold against a shape-shifter."

  As they digested this, the radio came on, requesting our presence at the command center.

  What? More? I sighed. "Sergeant, think you can make your way back from here?"

  "Casey, how's our shortcut?" he called to the man who was peering out the gaping hole in the mountain.

  "Walk in the park, Sarge. OOH-Rah!"

  I turned to Rak, "Ready for some aeronautical déjà vu?"

  Rak grinned. "OOH-Rah!"

  I nodded to him then the team leader. "In that case, sergeant, I'll take Rak and roll."

  I don't care how much a jughead a Marine is, he will still groan at that pun.

  As we walked to the edge, Rak asked, "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

  "All my life, Rakness. All my life. Ready?"

  I heard a few howls of disappointment as I grabbed Rak by the shoulders, and we glided down the hill. Everybody wants to ride the dragon, even if it's being carried in his claws. It didn't help that this time Rak whooped and called to the people below us like some rich brat flaunting his new toy. I thought about dropping him but hung on until we got to the small command post set up on the beach opposite the rock cliffs from the hotel.

  A Marine lieutenant met us as we landed and escorted us into the tent.

  Even on the beach, they had a laptop computer on the table where they were planning.

  Got to love Mundanes and technology. Surrounding the table was a Marine lieutenant colonel with his command team, a priest, and Sister Michaela Joan.

  "How's my possessed man?" he asked me.

  "He'll be fine. No possession—just a minor if showy spell. Sigyn's plans didn't seem big enough to warrant active participation from On Low."

  Sister Michaela Joan asked, "Did Father Raul take care of it?

  I snorted. "Father Raul, the Faith-Healing priest? He was doing his imitation of a Southern revival faith healing. Sister Anita took it."

  Sister Michaela Joan made a disgusted sound. "He has been told not to rely too much on the information in The Faerie Fool's Guide to Mundane Religions. No es importante. Right now, we need to take care of Loki.”

  The commander shook his head. Several others followed suit.

  "A spell to mimic possession. Unbelievable," he muttered.

  "Exactly the attitude which would have protected you had this scheme gone as well as Sigyn had hoped. Much as you Mundanes like to talk about Armageddon, you don't really believe it'll happen. Even those that do can't agree on how it'll look."

  He grunted then pointed to a screen. "Well, it's a good thing you're here. Look at this."

  The picture showed what looked like a giant roach crawling up a glowing red wall. The image sharpened and zoomed in, and I saw that wasn't far from the truth. Loki was climbing up the inside of the volcano.

  "This was taken about six minutes ago from one of our SuperCobras. One of the sisters onboard saw him fall in and insisted they keep an eye on the area. Turns out she was right."

  "Six minutes ago?" I squawked. Loki could be halfway across the island, mixing in with the crowd—

  The commander just grinned at me. "Relax. The guncrew fired a missile at his position and knocked him back in. A Hellfire, no less. Thought it was appropriate."

  "My compliments to their sense of humor."

  His grin widened before turning serious. "The volcano, however, didn't seem to find it funny. I don't think we can chance that again. Got a plan B?"

  Aloud I said. "I do, but I need some kind of riding rig and a small cowboy."

  "A what?" the captain's exec asked.

  "Will I do?" Sister Michaela Joan asked. "I grew up chasing cattle on the ranchero and still help mis hermanos when I can. You wish to lasso him like an unruly bull?"

  "More like a bum steer, but yeah. We brought the rope."

  Rak held up Narfi's innards.

  A corpsman made a gagging sound. "Are those... intestines?"

  Several others joined him in verbally expressing their distaste as Sister Michaela Joan took the, shall we say, organic rope, out of Rak's hands, tied it into a lasso and twirled it experimentally.

  "That is so gross." The corpsman actually giggled. The commander shut him up with a look.

  "It'll do," she said. "The weight is off, and it's not as flexible, but we will trust in God.

  Are you sure you can carry me?"

  I nodded. "I don’t want to risk you falling off, though, which is why we need a harness. A strong one. And I need food. Lots of food."

  The lieutenant snapped his fingers. "I've got an idea!"

  Nice thing about Marines: they don't waste a lot of time discussing ideas in committee, especially when it comes to employing large knives or getting rid of Marine rations. Soon I had a couple of them ripping open packages of MREs while another group decimated a parachute to make a harness for Sister Michaela Joan. Of course, I saw the guys tuck aside a candy bar or favorite meal when they thought I wasn't looking. I was too hungry to be concerned.

  Something else concerned me. "Part of our team is missing. Charlie Wilmot was escorting Heather Haskell to safety." I told one of the guys hacking at a strap with his Ka-Bar like he was a kid back in Scouts. He nodded and ran into the tent. As the others were dragging the webbing under and around me, he came rushing back.

  "No one's seen them yet, but now that the area is secure, there's a full search going on."

  I huffed a sigh of relief. Someone used that as an opportunity to tighten the makeshift cinch.

  "Watch it!" I snapped. He promptly loosened the knot.

  Sister Michaela Joan hopped onto my back, strapped and buckled herself on, and declared herself ready to rope an errant demigod.

  The command crew gathered outside to watch us.

  The lieutenant said, "You know, when we got called to duty yesterday, I never expected to see something like this."

  I reared up dramatically, and Sister Michaela Joan, an experienced rider, held her balance.

  I said, "No one expects—"

  "The Spanish Inquisition!" my caballera nun finished with me.

  I flapped my wings, applied my magic, and we flew off amid applause and calls of

  "OOH-Rah!"

  "Someday, you must tell me why that is so funny," Sister Michaela Joan said to me as we gained altitude.

  The helicopters, per our instructions, had backed off, but the Faerie mages had moved in, some covering the apex while others with Marines as back-ups covered the lava tubes that might provide an alternate means of escape. I worried briefly if he might actually try to swim into the magma and find egress through another mountain. Nah, Loki was never one for going deep into anything but trouble—and if Angrboda was to be believed, he couldn't take the heat nearly as well as he could talk the game.

  The Marines had asked Sister Michaela Joan if she wanted them to make some reins, but she'd declined. At the time, I'd been relieved. Now, however, I knew why.

  I shrugged my shoulders uncomfortably as I hovered over the volcano looking right while she looked left. "Sister, I'm not a horse."

  "Yes, so?"

  "So quit digging your knees into my sides!"

  "Then how do I tell you where to go?"

  I twitched and refused to turn left in response to the pressure of her legs. "Talk! I know more languages
than you do! Not to mention I see better. Maybe you should be ready to react instead?"

  No sooner did I finish those words than I saw something dark bob up among the red.

  "Supernatural at two o'clock!" I shouted and folded my wings into a dive.

  "¿ Qué?" Sister Michaela Joan asked, her words morphing into a shriek as I plummeted toward Loki. Her legs squashed at my sides, and she shouted the Faerie equivalent of "Whoa!"

  I'm sure if she'd had reins, she'd have been sawing on them.

  "Lasso! Get him!" I hollered, but it was too late. Loki glanced up at us and dove under.

  She just managed to jerk her rope back up before the entrails touched the lava.

  I hovered over the surface, fighting back curses and trying to figure out his location by the changes in the waves, or shadows in the lava.

  "Warn me, next time," she chided calmly as she wound up the lasso.

  The patience in her voice spread mine thin. "I did! What did you think, 'Supernatural at two o'clock' meant?"

  "I have no idea."

  I fought back a snarl. Common language didn't mean common understanding. "It's a Mundane convention. Direction, like the hours on a clock. Twelve is always in fron—Yeeahhh!"

  Loki sprang up, dolphin like, from the lava and grabbed me mid-tail.

  Reflex caused me to give my wings a mighty flap, the only thing that saved us from being dragged into the lava. Sister Michaela jerked her feet away from the heat. Loki laughed as he used his weight to pull us down.

  Sister Michaela didn't waste any breath screaming for help. She shouted a series of spells and prayers as she swung the lasso and looked for an appendage to rope. I felt his hands slip as she bombarded him with holy magics.

  I didn't plan on letting him get away that easily. I swung the tip of my tail at him and buried my thagomizer into his shoulder. He thrashed in thagony.

  He shrieked and let go, his hands moving to yank my tails spikes out of his body.

  "Sister, now!" I yelled, and without waiting for her, twisted myself so I could grab him with claw and mouth.

  His writhing became fluid, and he transformed into a huge snake. His shoulder slipped from one of my tail spikes, but the other held. I tightened my grip and managed to keep hold of him with one clawed hand at least—and with my mouth. If you've ever had a chunk of solidified lard melt and harden in your mouth, then you have a good idea how that felt.

  Sister Michaela Joan swung the loop at his head and missed.

  Loki opened his mouth wide, baring sharp curved teeth, and chomped down on my flank.

  I'm sure he meant for me to yelp and release his tail, but he'd forgotten a key fact about dragons.

  When in pain, we clench our teeth.

  Fortunately, I managed to stop my reflex before I completely severed the bite in my mouth. I had no idea what regenerative powers he possessed, and I did not want to risk seeding Apikewa with Loki chunks. He "helped" by transforming again—this time, turning the lower half of his body to stone. I heard a tooth crack. He'd pay for that.

  "Tail!" I shouted through the side of my mouth as I twisted my head to show Sister Michaela the solidified tail.

  She got a loop around it just before it changed again, this time into something smaller. I felt a moment of relief as the fangs receded, followed by the weird feeling of fuzzy goo as his form changed in my mouth. I've eaten a lot of things humans would consider disgusting, but this taxed even my limits. I spat Loki out and scraped my tongue against my teeth.

  A tiny yelp sounded by my ear, and Sister Michaela Joan had a polar fox cub caught in her lasso. For a moment, he whimpered and looked beseechingly at the nun with blue-gray puppy eyes, but when she started to twist another loop, he snarled and snapped like a rabid animal.

  I grabbed him. "Give it a break before I turn you into mittens!" I growled. Sister Michaela Joan got a loop around one foot.

  Suddenly, he was a cow!

  The change in weight caused me to tilt sideways—not a very aerodynamic position. The bindings that held my rider strained and cut into my belly and sides as she was nearly thrown. I whipped my tail around to pull her upright, then—bless her—she leaned in the other direction to counterbalance Loki's new weight.

  I started to give a shove upward with my wings, had a better idea, and let myself drop as I let him go and grabbed hold of the rope instead. Loki's moo rose, and his voice cracked as his nose dipped into the lava.

  "That's what you get! Now behave!" I shoved against the hot air with my wings and made my way out of the volcano.

  Figured Loki wasn’t done yet. Changing into fire giant form, he scooped up some lava and flung it at me.

  Sister Michaela Joan saw it and shouted a spell. The lava ball went wild.

  "Missed me! Missed me! And you're not gonna kiss me!" I taunted. I poked him in the ribs for fun. Just a poke, not a stab. It was too fun to see him hanging by his ankles. I did, however, nab a loose line of intestines with my tail.

  "'Kiss'?" Loki sneered. "You can kiss my—"

  I plugged his mouth with the intestines and wound them tight around his head.

  "Watch your language. There's a nun present!"

  Sister Michaela Joan laughed. A short, quiet laugh, but the only one I think I'd ever heard from her. I smiled for the first time in a day.

  The Marines had found a sturdy metal box with thick seals and heavy locks and had airlifted it to the observation platform, where several priests and sister mages were praying, incanting, and sprinkling it with holy water.

  Loki groaned as I lowered him in. The Marines practically pounced on the box in their hurry to close it—guess someone told them about Loki's work in Faerie.

  A Marine ran up to me as I landed. I told him, "Tell your team he likes to change into cuddly animals, so if they hear a whimpering or purring in the box, kick it."

  He grinned. "Yes sir! Good work, sir, ma'am!" He rushed off. Somehow I think he was hoping Loki would try.

  Ah, well. Let them have their jollies. I felt pretty proud, enough that I could ignore the pain along my side and tail a few minutes more.

  "So, Sister," I said to the blessed caballera on my back, "wanna go do a fly-by of the Enchanted?"

  She was already pulling at the buckles and working the knots. "No, I don't think so. I should keep watch over Loki."

  I sighed. Grace would have laughed and humored me, if only for a moment.

  The bindings had dug themselves into one side of my body, mashing scales and lanyard into my skin. It took a Marine, a healer, a lot of flowing water, and an incredible amount of patience from me to get them off. At least Father Raul wasn't around to "faith heal" me. I didn't think they had enough Neosporin on the entire island to coat my wounds, and there were enough real wounded to keep everyone busy. I'd survived worse. I decided to go wash them out in salt water and see if the docs on Enchanted would let me stay by Grace if I sat quietly and licked my wounds. Maybe if Father Raul had a minute or twenty, I could get him to hear my Confession.

  A Marine caught me as I turned toward the beach. "Sir, thought you'd like to know. Still no word yet on your missing friends. We're extending the search to the ocean. Several crafts were launched after the power plant exploded."

  Or better yet, I could stop thinking about myself and go find Charlie and Heather.

  Fine. First step, head back to the Enchanted. I could swim partway there and take care of my wounds; then go to the bridge and find out where they need someone to fly a search.

  The water, though tropical and salty, felt wonderfully cool and soothing to my wounds—

  a contradiction to you humans, I know. I also took the time to swallow up some fish. Even thirty MREs don't cut it after two days of hard work battling evil overlords and demigods.

  Appetite and aches sated, I rose out of the water and soared to the Enchanted.

  I saw watchmen with binoculars stationed all along the railing of the ship. Helicopters were returning and littering the back deck, so I ang
led toward the forecastle—

  And could hardly believe what I saw there. Grace!

  She was standing on the deck, looking ready to Trick-or-Treat in a seaman's uniform and ball-cap. She leaned on a crutch, but with no bandages on her face and only one long scar disfiguring her beautiful cheek. Her smile shone like the sun through the clouds as she waved enthusiastically. If it hadn't been for the crutch, I would have pounced on her and sent us both tumbling across the deck. If I weren't in midair, I'd have used the spell to turn myself human, so I could sweep her up in my arms and spin her around.

  Then again, the spell didn't come with clothes. Bad idea.

  Instead, I landed before her with all the majesty I could muster.

  For a long moment, she simply smiled at me, eyes shining with tears. I basked in that smile. I could have stayed like that all day.

  Then her gaze dropped, not in embarrassment but concern. "Vern! Your side!"

  "My side? My side? Forget my side! What happened to you? I mean, you were— How did you— I thought you were—" I stopped, caught my breath. "Are you all right?"

  She hobbled forward, but I stretched out my neck so she could hug me without having to take another step.

  "I'm sorry!" she whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you!"

  "I didn't protect you. I promised I would, but I couldn't." Dragons don't cry, but that doesn't mean we don't want to sometimes.

  Sailors and Marines gave us a glance before going politely about their business.

  She pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Stop it, you silly dragon! We're not alone in this, you know. In fact, that's part of the reason I'm apologizing."

  With one hand, she started scratching me behind my cheek crest. I leaned into it, but managed not to purr while she explained.

  "When Sigyn set me up in her bungee ride of torture, I tried to hold out, to suffer as the martyrs did. But she started demanding that Rak tell her where Charlie had gone, and whenever he refused, she'd bounce me. I knew he wouldn't be able to see me suffer, not for long. I wanted to go away, to hide like I'd hidden before. What I hadn't expected was Operisiel coming for me."

  "Operisiel? Your Guardian Angel?"

  She nodded. "Vern, I saw Heaven! Just the tiniest corner, and I can't even remember what it was like now, but there was so much joy around us. For a while, I think I sat in wonder and praise. Then, when I started to worry about you, Operisiel started feeding me—all the things I'd loved as a child! I don't know why I'm not ten pounds heavier! But he would not let me go. You know how overprotective he can get, and he was finally in a position to do something about it.