Chapter Thirty-Two: The Lie Detector
Jane's "dragon" turned out to be a magnificent rock formation, sculpted over centuries by the elaborate dance of particles on the wind.
Two massive stone wings stretched high into the black sky, wild and jagged-edged as fire, while an elegant, swan-like neck formed a perfect gateway arch twenty feet above their heads.
Smooth at the bottom, crater-filled at the top, bigger than a double-decker bus and too crazy-beautiful to be anything made by man, the beast waited for them in the night. Looking up at it, Jane knew that they'd found their destination at last.
Now that he was near, the shape of the head actually seemed more "camel" than "giant reptile."
Jane remembered a song from a Disney movie long ago:
"He has the head of a camel, the neck of a crocodile…and the ears of a cow!"
He tried not to think too much about the little girl who had sung it with him, riding high on his shoulders as he pranced alongside crashing waves.
Jane focused instead on the little girl shivering next to him right now.
He quickly shed his vest and draped it around her, then gifted her with his socks, as well, tugging the black fabric up toward her knees, only to have it fall in bundles around her ankles. Apparently, he had big feet…
The right one certainly was, at the moment – fat and puffy and bloated from the injury. Jane didn't bother to put the shoe back on that side. His toes felt better loose and free.
He looked at Penny for a moment, in her ridiculously over-sized vest and socks, then at the broad back of the dragon, a good fifteen feet above. There was space enough for two, up there. Space to lie flat and be concealed, space to stand tall and be seen. Height to let them see far into the distance, and thick stone wings to stop angry bullets.
It was a perfect spot – if they could make it up there…
Feeling the moans of every creaky joint, Jane carefully knelt down in front of the little girl, so that they were face to face. Eye to eye.
He needed his words, now. There were things he had to tell her. Things she had to know, just in case. Jane glanced at the rock formation, and tried to keep his voice as soft as the sand. "Kind of looks like a dragon, doesn't it?"
He smiled. Penny stared.
"I'm going to lift you up," he told her, "so you can climb on his back. Climb right on his back and stay down, stay quiet. When you see a lady with dark hair and green eyes, that'll be my friend, Agent Lisbon. She'll take you home to your father. If anyone else comes, just stay hidden. If they call your name, don't answer. Wait for Agent Lisbon."
Penny's eyes remained distant, lost in the night. Her empty face gave no sign that she'd understood, or even heard. But when Jane rose to full height, and began to heft her skyward on quivering arms, Penny's hands reached out for the rock. Her pale fingers swept the stony surface, reading it like Braille, finding the best cracks and crannies. The little girl pulled herself higher, out of Jane's fading arms, and he stayed right beneath her, ready to catch her if she fell.
Penny scaled her way to a small ledge four feet above him and then huddled there like a baby bat, her face pressed to the stone. Jane could make out more rough outlines of handholds above her, but she made no move to reach for them. She made no move at all.
Come on, Penny – don't freeze up now…
"Almost there," he whispered, after a moment. "Just keep going..."
Slowly, Penny's head turned away from the rock. She looked down at Jane. And for once, her eyes were actually focused on him, rather than lost in space. She blinked, and Jane saw expectation there. Like she was waiting for something.
Waiting for him, he realized.
The ghost of Laura Jorsten's voice floated through his head: "She just doesn't like to be alone…"
Jane's heart dipped, just a little.
"Go on," he tried, once more. Penny blinked at him, unmoving.
Jane sighed. He would do the best he could.
While Penny waited above, Jane readied his hands on the side of the rock. The scratchy surface pricked against his palms. His fingers bit down hard, willing traction. He breathed deep, and smelled rust from the iron deposits in the stone. Jane delicately placed his right foot on the incline. His bare toes curled against hard rock. He closed his eyes…
A small, cold hand folded around one of Jane's.
He looked up and saw Penny crouched low on the ledge, leaning forward as far as she could. Her fingers were white against his. Her grip was tight. Jane kept his eyes on their two hands, locked together, as he began to shift weight onto his throbbing right leg.
Fireworks of pain exploded hot and bright, stealing his breath. Dazzling sparks rained across his vision. His stomach rolled.
Jane eased off the leg and leaned his face against cold stone, panting.
He could still feel Penny's hand, holding tight to his. Jane looked up at the rock once more, looming high in the darkness, the climb to safety almost entirely vertical. Too vertical, for someone with only one leg. Too steep, too unforgiving.
Too hard.
Jane swallowed roughly. He sifted through his clever magician's brain, searching for something else to pull out of the hat.
But for once, there were no two-headed quarters. No hopping paper frogs. No tricks.
Jane sighed, long and deep, filling the air with white. He knew what he had to do. He met Penny's eyes, and she blinked at him.
"Keep going," Jane instructed. "Climb all the way up…I'll be there soon."
The lie felt like cat fur, brushed backwards - uncomfortable and wrong. Jane hated himself for it.
The little girl stared down at him, silent and inscrutable. An eternity seemed to pass where she didn't even blink. Finally, Penny's limbs shifted. She let go of his hand, and Jane's heart gave a hopeful flutter. But the first move she made took her down, not up, and the next step brought her lower still.
Jane's heart sank like a certain doomed luxury ship.
Children. The very best lie detectors of all.
He sighed again, watching Penny's careful descent. The little girl who had doggedly followed his every command, now doing the exact opposite of what she'd been told. She got as far as she could on her own, and then looked calmly at him, waiting for help. Jane saw something in her steady gaze that wasn't stubbornness or defiance, but simply a choice:
Not without you.
Jane's throat tightened. He smiled, but it was sad.
"Okay," he said at last, reaching out to lift her down. "Okay…"