Prince Charming Must Die

34. Multiple Person Disorder

"You're cold," Gerald pointed out as if she hadn't known.

"And you're not?" Ashley replied.

"Not now, I'm not," Gerald laughed, low and throaty, wrapping his legs around hers.

"I see," Ashley smirked. "Happy to help."

The last of the clouds broke, revealing the crystalline night. A gibbous moon shone in the west like a chipped gold coin, and the stars—a million pinpricks—winked, each harboring a trove of ancient mysteries.

Ashley closed her eyes, soaking in his smell, his heat, and something else. Something she couldn't name. It felt like home. Or what she imagined a home might be, since she'd never really had one. Thoughts of evil magicians and whipped cream drizzled away, until ...

... Gerald's arm muscles tensed ...

... and someone gasped.

Ashley's eyes flew open; wind rushed over her face. Something seemed wrong. Was it her imagination, or were they a collision path straight for the mountain? After some hyperventilating, she managed to choke out a few words. "Wa, wa, what's happening?"

It was as if Ruth was on autopilot and hadn't perceived the very large, substantial, snow-wrapped mountain, looming ever closer.

"Remember not to offend our transport," Gerald said.

Ashley warbled a scream, immediately realizing her mistake. Never offend your dragon.

"Settle yourself, humans," Ruth scolded. "I know what I'm doing. A vertical approach will be stealthier."

"Sorry, I trust you," Ashley wisely lied.

"You're a terrible liar," Ruth said. "But I won't practice my barrel roll right now because I am feeling benevolent. Also, don't want that cute prince dropping Junior. True to Ruth's word, a moment before they collided with anything cold, solid, and potentially death-inducing, she shifted direction. Ashley left her stomach behind as they veered upwards and flew parallel to the near-vertical rise, racing a dragon-shaped shadow cast by the moon.

Layyin screamed and laughed like a demented crow.

"At least Layyin's having fun," Gerald said.

"I fear I've created a monster," Ashley said, gripping Ruth scales and clenching her teeth. Her head swelled, not with pride but with blood. "Maybe she was better off when she had an unhealthy fear of ... of ... everything. Being fearless could end up being way unhealthier in an existential sense."

"Terrowin won't let that happen," Gerald said with manly assurance. He hardly seemed affected by the powerful forces pushing against them. So annoying. "I will not allow any harm to befall you."

"I appreciate your macho confidence," Ashley bit off, heart accelerating along with their airspeed. "No one can ... make ... promise that. Death ... doesn't ask permission." Ashley's eyes ached, and the world turned gray.

"Death wouldn't dare," Gerald growled. "Hey, what's the plan once we get to the lair? Not to rush you but taking into account our velocity and the height of the mountain, we'll likely ascend to the apex in about three minutes. And re-kidnapping a bunch of children from under the nose of an all-powerful magician won't be easy."

"Can't ... think ... straight. How are you able ...?"

"I've flown my share of insufferable unicorns. One time—"

"Almost there," Ruth interrupted, slowing enough to allow the blood in Ashley's brain to distribute more evenly. The world became less blurry and more colorful. She even managed to translate Ruth's message for the others.