***
Kull was impressed with my car. So much so that he wanted to drive. I didn’t let him. Call me crazy.
I’d managed to talk him out of his sword and studded leather. Now he could pass for a regular guy—if regular meant six-foot-eight and cudgels for fists.
He didn’t stay mad too long as we drove down Seawall Boulevard. This time, it was his turn to gape. Galveston is a carnival of sights and sounds—some pleasant, some not. The ocean breeze drifted through the open windows, the sprawling, historic hotels loomed overhead, and the sand-salted highways were awash with empty beer bottles and refuse. Beggars rifled through trashcans, and the beautiful pink sky tinged with lavender reflected the ocean.
He took it all in without saying a word. I don’t think his Earth Kingdom texts had prepared him for the sounds, the smells. To a Wult who’d grown up with snow-capped peaks, dragons, majestic elven cities, and fresh air to breathe, I knew what he was thinking. Pretty crummy world.
“It’s amazing.”
Okay, maybe I didn’t know.
“You think so?”
He watched a pair of surfers wearing wet suits cruise the waves. “Are all Earth cities like this one?”
“No.” We’d be driving into the heart of Houston, with its headache traffic jams, twisting highways, and skyscrapers that made your head swim. A monster of a city. And no sea breezes to calm frazzled nerves. “Earth cities are noisy, polluted, crowded places. Not what you’re used to. And no game to kill, either.”
Kull didn’t answer. I let him take it in. He remained silent as we crossed to the causeway and drove off Galveston Island. The traffic picked up. Huge semis passed us, and Kull stared at them with fascination.
Kull questioned me for the next hour and a half. I answered as best as I could, though in truth, human societal norms baffled me, and I wasn’t sure I answered him correctly on half his questions.
I headed off I-45 and onto Highway 59 toward the zoo and museum district. Kull sat up in his seat as we passed the towering skyscrapers, their aquamarine glass reflecting the sun. Nothing in Faythander compared to this. The elves, while technologically advanced, preferred to keep their architecture unchanged. After thousands of years, they still built their buildings in the same style, preferring to expand outward instead of upward.
But here, in the concrete jungle, Kull looked unsettled. He gripped the dashboard as an eighteen-wheeler sped past. “I thought you said there were no creatures to slay.”
“Trucks aren’t meant to be slain, no matter how much you hate them.”
The noise, the smells, and my blooming headache all made me wish I’d stayed in Faythander. I was a gal born for tall trees, grass, and empty, open sky dusted with the wings of fairies.
At least when we reached the museum I’d have a little time to study the Peerling text. The whirlwind of traffic continued until I turned onto Hermann Drive. We drove past the zoo, with its rows of shadowed shrubs and green, grassy hills that stretched toward the museum district. Even in December, the grass stayed green, a fairy world all of its own.
Sunlight drenched us as I pulled the car into a parking space at the museum. I glanced at Kull as I turned the car off. “Have you thought this through? Not to rain on your parade, but that T-Rex’s skeleton won’t fit in my trunk.”
“That’s why I brought you along.”
“Me?”
“Use your magic. It’s what you do best.”
I would’ve smarted off, but in truth, he had more than fulfilled his end of the bargain. He’d taken me to the goblin lands and nearly gotten himself killed—the least I could do was help him steal a T-Rex. One problem—I had no clue how to do it. And I wasn’t fond of breaking the law.
We climbed out of the car and took the sidewalk. The museum was a modern building with glass-paneled walls. A pyramid-shaped butterfly exhibit sat adjacent to the museum, and tall oak trees muffled the distant sounds of traffic. We passed a globe-shaped fountain where water bubbled from a hole at the top. A few people crowded the sidewalks.
We entered through glass double doors and bought tickets, which I had to dig into my grocery budget to afford, and then found our way to the exhibition hall.
The T-Rex was easy to spot—it towered over us. Its skeletal face displayed rows of teeth as long as my arms. Cinnamon-brown bones stretched from floor to ceiling, some of them taller than me. Claws curved from the tips of its fingers and toes. The similarities to the sky king were uncanny. Even after millions of years, magic flowed through these bones. This was the mother of dragons.
Kull and I stopped by a plaque. I skimmed over the stats and stopped at the more interesting part…
The Houston Museum of Natural Science presents a unique, all-bone Tyrannosaurus Rex. This fossil features the best-preserved and most complete hands and feet of any Tyrannosaurus ever found. It includes patches of original skin. This specimen is the most complete Tyrannosaurus found in any of the world’s museums to date.
An original skeleton. I wondered if Kull knew how valuable this was—not just on Earth, but in Faythander as well. So much could be discovered about the dragons’ ancestry in this one specimen.
Kull circled the display. With his hands in his pockets, his face passive, he didn’t look the type to thieve a priceless collection from a museum. A pang of guilt gnawed at me.
What would he do with it? Place it next to his croc so he could glance at it every now and then as he sipped brandy? I didn’t feel right about stealing it. But I should have thought of that before I’d made the bargain.
I’d promised to bring him here, nothing else. Deciding to make better use of my time, I removed Peerling’s book from my bag and headed for a bench near the windows. “Good luck,” I said as I headed off.
“Where are you going?”
I held up the book. “I’ve got homework. Let me know when you figure out how to move that thing without anyone noticing.”
He frowned, but I ignored him. Maybe I was being selfish, but this was his idea to come here. Give him a few hours, and he’d figure something out.
Maybe I’d even help him, if he asked nicely.
Sunlight filtered through the giant window walls as I took a seat on the concrete bench. Tucking my legs underneath me, I opened the book and studied each chapter heading until I landed on “Harnessing the Power of the Imagination.” It sounded interesting, so I read it.
Think of the snow falling. Imagine every individual flake, each one unique, all building into a crescendo of whiteness that covers the land, regardless of where it falls. Covering, blanketing.
Can you see the snow? Can you taste its icy wetness on your cheeks and feel the flakes on your eyelashes?
You most likely are not in the snow. You are probably sitting, perhaps lying down somewhere warm and away from the cold, yet you’ve experienced what only the imagination provides.
Did you actually experience the snowfall? Your first answer might be no, but let’s reexamine the circumstances.
Let’s try something else.
I want you to read the following passage, all the while aware of how you feel.
Ponder the iciness, the numbness in your fingers and toes, the cold air entering your lungs, the chapped feeling in your cheeks, the scent of ice on the wind, the taste of it on your tongue.
Did you feel the cold?
This is the imagination, unique to only a few humanoid species. In essence, you’ve traveled to another place. We’ve only traveled to somewhere cold—but imagine the other possibilities of where you might go.
The possibilities of where your imagination might take you are limitless. There is no wall or barrier your own thoughts cannot penetrate.
“Olive?”
I heard a familiar voice and looked up. Brent stood over me.
Brent. Of all people.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What are you?”
He pointed to his name badge. “A glass panel collapsed in th
e butterfly pyramid. They’re losing the little critters like crazy. Needed me to come take a look, figure out how it happened.”
“So you’re collecting insects?”
“More or less.”
He took a seat beside me. I inched over a fraction.
“You haven’t returned my phone calls,” he said.
“I’ve been busy.”
“I know how it is. Solve one crisis, and another one starts.”
“Yep.” I inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne, realizing that I’d missed him. I forgot how comfortable I felt around him. With Brent, it didn’t matter if I looked good or not. Not that he wouldn’t notice—it was more like I didn’t care. I could tell him anything, whether he understood or not. I suppose he’d become my sounding board. I missed having a sounding board.
“How long has it been since I promised to take you on a date? A week or two, right?”
“Something like that.”
He leaned closer. I felt obligated to look him in the eyes. “Still mad at me?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
I pinched my lips together.
“I know I can be critical sometimes, but I just want what’s best for you. So does your mom.”
“She wants me to quit my job. How is that what’s best for me?”
“Don’t be too hard on her. She worries about you.”
“Sure she does.”
“She cares about you. Maybe you don’t see it like I do. You’re the only family she’s got—the only family you’ve got. Don’t shut her out.”
What could I say? She didn’t feel like a parent to me. If we’d met as strangers, we wouldn’t even be friends.
“You know my mom better than I do?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you understand her. I’ve never had that ability.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“Why would I want to be around someone who tried to run my life, who put on her fake smile, lived in her perfect house, and pretended everything was okay between us?”
“I never said she was perfect, but she is your mother. She cares about you. She stays up at night worrying about you. She might seem distant, but I know she loves you.”
Brent hit on something I tried to ignore. My mother had never convinced me that she loved me. I was her obligation, just like I was my father’s obligation.
“And you know I love you, too.” He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. “And I love how your ears do that thing whenever you get embarrassed.”
Of course, now would be the exact moment Kull decided to make his appearance, looming over us like the freaking Hulk. He kept his hands in his pockets, perhaps trying to appear laidback, though nothing could hide his warrior’s scowl. I dreaded introducing the two, but now I couldn’t avoid it.
“Brent, this is my friend, Kull.”
Brent raised an eyebrow. “Kull?”
Kull extended his hand, which was big to enough to crush Brent’s skull. I hadn’t nicknamed him the Skullsplitter for nothing.
Brent stood. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And you.”
I held my breath as they shook hands. I hoped Kull wouldn’t make a display.
“You must be one of Olive’s patients?” Brent asked.
Kull’s grip tightened. “Hardly.”
“He’s an associate,” I clarified.
“Of course!” Brent answered with too much enthusiasm. “You speak with an accent. Irish? Australian?”
“Neither.”
“I see. Another of Olive’s mysteries.”
Kull gave him the Skullsplitter glare. I was surprised Brent didn’t wet himself.
“Well, Olive,” Brent said as he pulled his hand away. His fingers were purple. “I should go. Call me whenever you’re feeling up for a date.” He put a lot of emphasis on that last word.
“Sure.”
Brent gave Kull a curt nod and then walked away, his Italian-leather shoes sharp against the tiles.
“He’s the boyfriend you spoke of?” Kull said after Brent disappeared.
“Is something wrong?”
Kull looked at me as if I had “moron” written across my forehead. “He’s your boyfriend?” he repeated.
“Yes, he’s my boyfriend.” My voice sounded more defensive than I’d planned. “He’s a nice guy—opinionated sometimes. But his opinions are nothing compared to yours.”
“Don’t compare him to me.”
I actually heard him growl. “You’ve just met him, and already you know his character?”
“I know when I see insincerity.”
Insincerity?
“If he were insincere, I would have noticed after two years.”
“That means nothing.”
“This is not the time to psychoanalyze my boyfriend, Mr. Integrity. Any ideas on how to illegally remove that T-Rex? Also known as stealing?”
“Yes. It involves a wrecking ball, a forklift, an eighteen-wheel truck, and your magic mirror.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s the best I can do.”
“You won’t make it very far. I think someone might get curious when they see a huge wrecking ball aimed for the museum.”
“There is another way.”
“Oh?”
“It involves a couple spells. Shrinking spell, illusion spell. Think you can handle it?”
“I might. We’ll have to come back when no one’s around. We’ll also have to get past security somehow.” The spells wouldn’t be difficult, but I wanted him to sweat a little.
“I’ll handle security.”
“Quietly?”
“Of course.”
“Fine, but I have to check on Jeremiah first. We’ll come back after I visit him.”
“Visit him? I thought you were still looking for him.”
“I’m looking for his dreamself. His body is still here on Earth. I also need to talk to his sister.”
Kull stared with longing eyes at the T-Rex looming over us. “Very well. But I don’t leave this planet until I’ve got that skeleton.”
“You don’t have to remind me.”
Dreamthief Page 32