"Elkay!"
Claire made a dive for the unconscious dragon as she plummeted into the magic-fuelled hurricane, but her eyes shot open suddenly, and she righted herself.
"Claire, I just had a vision!"
"That's nice. Can we discuss it when we're NOT flying through a vortex of doom?"
"Sounds good."
Elkay banked left, following the tornado's motion. Claire followed. They made wide loops around the vortex, getting faster and faster with each turn.
"Are we going to shoot out from the side?" Claire shouted.
"That's the pl-"
Suddenly, Elkay was struck by a large chunk of stone. She reeled, but managed to steady herself.
". . . Or not."
The vortex had begun to suck up objects . . . and people. Humans, dinosaurs, and everything in between were flying past, and judging by the shifting base of the storm, more would come. It was not a stationary hurricane. It seemed to be moving across the island, picking up loose objects as it went. This was a very good way to get people killed, Elkay thought, and she had a bad feeling that if the storm petered out, anyone caught inside of it would be faced with a nasty drop, probably too high for non-dragons to survive. By that logic, everyone zooming past them was already as good as dead, unless they intervened.
"Claire, do you have enough magic to teleport these people to safety?"
"Of course!"
"Do it. I'm going to face Karen and see if I can get her to stop fucking shit up."
"She won't listen to you!"
"Oh, I know. I was planning a distraction of some kind. I'll delay her next move by . . . doing something. Anything to buy you a few minutes, really."
"And then?"
"Hopefully, we'll have figured something out by the time we're faced with the next plot point."
Claire shook her head and groaned.
"You and your plot points. Fine, I'll save as many people as I can. Just don't get yourself killed, okay?"
"God, if only."
Elkay rose towards Karen's hub, which was floating in the middle of the storm, untouched by the swirling debris. She beat her wings twice, then turned her head to the side.
"Pssst. You might want to follow Claire, not me."
Meanwhile, Claire was encasing the unfortunate island-dwellers in bubbles made of white magic. Her horn glowed with each spell, fizzing as she launched the spheres out of the hurricane by tossing her head. She saved quite a few lives in the span of three minutes, and the rhythm she maintained almost made it feel like casual busywork. This was a task she felt confident executing. It was almost a relief, after facing nearly impossible odds.
But as she approached a raptor caught in the storm, she realized that he was not struggling against the wind. He had gone quite limp, and the unnatural angle of his neck indicated that there was little hope of revival. Perhaps this wasn't such a lighthearted task after all.
Claire approached the raptor, hoping to send his body home, even if his life had been lost. She caught up to him, grabbing his torso and struggling against the storm. When she turned his face over, however, he slipped from her arms, and she nearly got caught in the wind, herself. She watched as the storm tore him away, until he disappeared in the debris. Tears stung at Claire's eyes.
"Charlie . . ."
Although she doubted that Charlie would have lived to see his mother's return, it was still heartbreaking to witness his premature death. And even if he'd had no hope of seeing his mother again, his father was still very much alive. Claire thought about how Alan had taken Karen's side. What would he think now? Would he regret his decision? It wasn't his fault that Charlie was dead, of course, but if Claire knew anything about losing a child- and she did- she was certain that there would be no hope of convincing him otherwise.
Overcome by a sudden, unbearable grief, Claire forgot the other victims of the tornado and set out in search of Charlie's body. She scanned the debris for a very long time before realizing that she had lost him, at least for the time being. She promised herself that she would find his body when the time was right, so that Alan would have some form of closure. Or something to bury, at least.
"Claire."
She turned as Owen joined her in skimming the outer layer of the storm. In his Stegoceratops form, he stood out against the droplets of mud and water caught in the hectic gusts. She buried her face in his red scales, unsteady as the wind rocked both of them back and forth.
"Charlie's dead."
Owen went rigid.
"Not our Charlie," Claire sniffed, "Ellie's."
Owen breathed a sigh of relief, then realized that that was not an appropriate response.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"What are we going to tell Alan?"
Owen took a deep breath.
"That won't be a problem."
Whatever the reason for that was, it couldn't be good. Claire was afraid to ask, but-
"Why? . . ."
"Karen killed him. I just got back from her fortress. She-"
He winced.
"She killed him like she killed Gray. It was-"
He shook himself off, then adjusted for his miscalculated flight maneuver.
"He's dead. That's all I'm saying."
Claire choked.
"Why did she kill him? Or was there even a reason . . ."
"Well, I suppose that's the good news, if you want to look at it that way. He betrayed her. Stood up to her. She was going to kill Elkay, and he said that even if he didn't much like her, she was Ellie's friend, and he remembered how fond she was of her. He said that he wanted to honor Ellie, and he thought the best way of doing that was to wipe the slate clean, but that wasn't what she would have wanted. Life is messy, he said, and Ellie liked it that way, even before Elkay came into their lives. And then he talked about how he had been given a son, a home, stuff like that. And then he said something else- I don't remember what- but it was a challenge to Karen, and there was a long silence . . . then, poof."
Claire closed her eyes.
"He was a good man. I'm glad he didn't have to hear about Charlie's death."
"And vice versa."
"I suppose they'll see each other, wherever they are."
"I think so, too."
There was a pause.
"Claire?"
"Yes?"
"When a person dies, are they sad that their family members are still alive and far away, or do they feel comfortable waiting for them? Are they happy when their family members die and return to them?"
"I hope not. That seems kind of disturbing."
Owen nodded.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Why do you ask?"
He inhaled, beating his wings more firmly.
"I don't know what I'd do without you. If something happened-"
"If I died, you mean."
"Yeah . . . that," he gulped, "If . . . if that were to happen, I don't know if I could go on living."
Claire grabbed him by the shoulders. He tensed up, letting the wind carry them both haphazardly.
"Owen," she muttered seriously, "Lily needs you. She needs us both, but if she doesn't have me, she still needs you."
Owen frowned.
"She's not a child anymore, Claire. She can handle herself."
"Owen, if you kill yourself while Lily is still alive, I will never forgive you."
He sighed.
"I know, and you're right. I wouldn't. But it's hard for me to think about you dying."
"So don't."
"But I'm . . . afraid."
"We've died before, Owen. It's no big deal."
"I think you know it is."
Claire sighed.
"You know, we're going to have to tell Liam that his brother is dead."
"And his father."
Claire nodded vacantly.
"You know, sometimes, I don't like being us."
"But you wouldn't change anything, would you? . . ."
"No. This is who we are. We have responsibilities. It's hard on us, but it's good for the world as a whole."
"I wouldn't trust anyone else with the fate of the world, to be quite honest . . . Ms. Dearing."
She jostled him gently, then gazed up at Karen's domain.
"I guess we're the best, last hope for the world."
He shivered.
"I guess we are."
