liquid, but it does the trick—he’s starting to get control of himself again. As he settles into lizard form, he finally quiets down. He’s still agitated though. He’s darting around the floor of the boat, cocking his head frantically in every direction, sniffing the air. It looks like he’s hearing something that Rex and I can’t—almost like there’s something calling to him.
It’s very weird, but I don’t know what to do about it. The island’s close enough now that I think I can just see where that harbor opens up. Rex pulls the oars in. “You ready to do this?” he asks. I’m not ready at all, but I nod. At least Dust has settled down enough to climb into the pocket of my hoodie. I can still feel him twitching nervously in there, but it seems like he’s getting back to normal.
Rex doesn’t pay any attention to how uneasy this is making me. He just digs through his pockets until he pulls out the plastic ties that he bought from a local hardware store while we’d been waiting for the ferries to clear out for the day.
“Give me your wrists,” he says. Every bit of my common sense is telling me not to do it. Letting myself be tied up and marched into a Mogadorian stronghold by a Mog I barely trust—doesn’t sound like the most brilliant scheme, does it?
Certain I’m walking into some kind of incredibly elaborate trap, I offer up my hands anyway. I’ve come this far. What else can I do but take the risk?
Within seconds Rex has me expertly bound. It’s almost like we’re back to the way we started at Dulce: one guard and one prisoner, this time with our roles reversed.
Hopefully it’s just for show.
We’re a few meters from the shore when a blindingsearchlight engulfs us in its dazzling beam and a booming voice calls out. “Stop! Identify yourself!”
Rex straightens. “Rexicus Saturnus, from Dulce,” he shouts back. “And a prisoner!” He grabs my hands and raises them so those watching can see the restraints.
The pause has me sweating despite the chill coming off the waves, but finally the voice replies, “Come ahead.” They don’t offer to pick us up, but instead stay back and let Rex row us the rest of the way in. Typical Mogs.
“Shouldn’t there be regular soldiers here?” I whisper. “Instead of Mogadorians?”
“Used to be that way,” Rex says. “But we’re getting more and more power in the American government lately. Pretty soon the White House’ll be run by Mogadorians too.”
It’s a scary thought—and one that would have made me incredibly excited just a few short years ago.
At the sound of the Mogadorians shouting at us, Dust has crawled from my pocket. And before I have time to even say good-bye, he’s turned into a hummingbird and is gone into the night sky.
I know it’s for the best. If I’m going to be thrown into a cell, I don’t want him trapped in there with me. Nonetheless, I feel incredibly vulnerable without him.
The feeling only intensifies when I see the squad of soldiers waiting for us on the dock, weapons drawn.They wait until our little rowboat bumps up against the logs and then reach down and haul us up.
“Who’s this?” the Mog officer in charge demands, staring into my eyes and grabbing me roughly by the arm.
“A low-life traitor,” Rex replies. “Adamus Sutekh, son of General Andrakkus Sutekh.” He punches me in the stomach, hard enough to double me over and leave me gasping for breath.
The captain’s frowning at us. He’s trueborn, of course, but the underlings flanking him are all vatborn, big and pale and typically creepy. “Why bring him here?” the captain asks after a second. “And what exactly happened at Dulce? We lost all communication with it—sent some scouts in but they reported the whole place destroyed.”
“ He happened,” Rex replies, gesturing towards me. The captain’s frown deepens, and Rex hurries to explain. “I was stationed at Dulce Base. This traitor showed up with a human ally and
It’s very weird, but I don’t know what to do about it. The island’s close enough now that I think I can just see where that harbor opens up. Rex pulls the oars in. “You ready to do this?” he asks. I’m not ready at all, but I nod. At least Dust has settled down enough to climb into the pocket of my hoodie. I can still feel him twitching nervously in there, but it seems like he’s getting back to normal.
Rex doesn’t pay any attention to how uneasy this is making me. He just digs through his pockets until he pulls out the plastic ties that he bought from a local hardware store while we’d been waiting for the ferries to clear out for the day.
“Give me your wrists,” he says. Every bit of my common sense is telling me not to do it. Letting myself be tied up and marched into a Mogadorian stronghold by a Mog I barely trust—doesn’t sound like the most brilliant scheme, does it?
Certain I’m walking into some kind of incredibly elaborate trap, I offer up my hands anyway. I’ve come this far. What else can I do but take the risk?
Within seconds Rex has me expertly bound. It’s almost like we’re back to the way we started at Dulce: one guard and one prisoner, this time with our roles reversed.
Hopefully it’s just for show.
We’re a few meters from the shore when a blindingsearchlight engulfs us in its dazzling beam and a booming voice calls out. “Stop! Identify yourself!”
Rex straightens. “Rexicus Saturnus, from Dulce,” he shouts back. “And a prisoner!” He grabs my hands and raises them so those watching can see the restraints.
The pause has me sweating despite the chill coming off the waves, but finally the voice replies, “Come ahead.” They don’t offer to pick us up, but instead stay back and let Rex row us the rest of the way in. Typical Mogs.
“Shouldn’t there be regular soldiers here?” I whisper. “Instead of Mogadorians?”
“Used to be that way,” Rex says. “But we’re getting more and more power in the American government lately. Pretty soon the White House’ll be run by Mogadorians too.”
It’s a scary thought—and one that would have made me incredibly excited just a few short years ago.
At the sound of the Mogadorians shouting at us, Dust has crawled from my pocket. And before I have time to even say good-bye, he’s turned into a hummingbird and is gone into the night sky.
I know it’s for the best. If I’m going to be thrown into a cell, I don’t want him trapped in there with me. Nonetheless, I feel incredibly vulnerable without him.
The feeling only intensifies when I see the squad of soldiers waiting for us on the dock, weapons drawn.They wait until our little rowboat bumps up against the logs and then reach down and haul us up.
“Who’s this?” the Mog officer in charge demands, staring into my eyes and grabbing me roughly by the arm.
“A low-life traitor,” Rex replies. “Adamus Sutekh, son of General Andrakkus Sutekh.” He punches me in the stomach, hard enough to double me over and leave me gasping for breath.
The captain’s frowning at us. He’s trueborn, of course, but the underlings flanking him are all vatborn, big and pale and typically creepy. “Why bring him here?” the captain asks after a second. “And what exactly happened at Dulce? We lost all communication with it—sent some scouts in but they reported the whole place destroyed.”
“ He happened,” Rex replies, gesturing towards me. The captain’s frown deepens, and Rex hurries to explain. “I was stationed at Dulce Base. This traitor showed up with a human ally and
Similar Books
