Colby brushed sweat off his brow, pausing in his tread to address Mabel, who followed him at a slower pace. "Why the hell are we doing this, and why couldn't you take Zephyrine instead?"
Even through the perspiration stinging her eyes, Mabel shot him an unimpressed look. "And here I thought you would have wanted me to take Thora, so you could keep Zephyrine all to yourself."
She quickly regretted the words when his eyes lit up. Why, oh why, did she always walk into his traps so easily? "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. I know she's all mine."
Mabel covered her ears, feeling like a small child who didn't want to listen to orders from a parent. "La, la, la, I'm not listening!"
Colby's shit-eating grin only widened. "Oh, Mabel, you don't need to listen with me. You just need to," he stepped closer, invading her personal space, and whispered in her ear seductively, "feel."
Mabel squealed and leapt back. "Col-by! No! Bad Death!"
"Ah, it's just so easy," Colby chuckled heartily, spinning away and continuing through the barren wasteland that was Hell's clay covered, desert-like landscape. "Seriously though, why did you bring me with you on this ridiculous quest?"
She rolled her eyes in annoyance, because he really was perfect for Zephyrine: they were both whiny brats, most of the time. "Because Aleron has Zeph and Thora organizing the 'discarding' of the dead bodies, and he's going over army stuff with Packer, which distracts him and leaves you. Aleron wouldn't let me out of his sight, especially if he knew what I was doing."
"I have to admit, I was hoping you'd be doing me."
Mabel tripped over her own feet at his words, and she sent him a glare from her newfound spot on the hot clay. "Oh, come on, Colby. Really?"
He only laughed again, reaching down a hand and helping her up. "Really. Now, where exactly is this stupid beast supposed to be?"
She huffed once she was stable and thwacked the back of his head. "Don't call him that! Flint is very sweet."
"Oh, sure," he stressed the word. "What could possibly go wrong when we're going on a wild goose chase to find a dragon? Why are we doing this, anyway? I thought he flew off and didn't want to be found."
Resisting the urge to throttle him, Mabel kept her voice patient as she responded. "Not necessarily. No one seems to know what happened to him, and I'm worried. I wouldn't have been able to save everyone if he hadn't helped me." She tacked on the last sentence with purpose, solely because she knew how much it bothered Colby that he hadn't saved Hell.
It had the desired effect, and Colby's eyes lit up with challenge. "Oh, really? And just how many enemies did you kill, Mabel? I was in double—if not triple—digits, by the time the battle ended, I'll have you know."
Mabel sniffed haughtily, turning her nose up at him. "That's just it; I don't need to kill anyone to save the day. I'm talented like that."
He snorted with some mixture of fond annoyance. "Yeah, yeah, alright, hotshot. Let's just get this over with, okay? I have that hot-ass ala back home, and she and I are gonna—" He stopped with a chuckle when Mabel squeaked and shook her head frantically, slapping a hand over his mouth.
"Honestly," her voice was shrill, "now is seriously not the time. Let's find this dragon before Aleron realizes I'm missing."
Colby paused to consider her words for a moment, before he shuddered. "Yeah, good plan. I don't want to be blamed for your choices, anyway." They continued on their way, their eyes peeled as they looked for any sign of Flint.
Fifteen minutes later, and Mabel was about ready to call it a day (God, how was it possible to sweat this much?), when they came to an abrupt halt. There, about twenty feet ahead of them and nestled between two large boulders, was a scaly tail. Colby started towards it, but Mabel held up her hand to stop him.
"No," she ordered, "let me. He doesn't know you." Twiddling with the engagement ring that had first attracted Flint's attention, she crept forward cautiously, ignoring Colby's mumble of, "Great: you're trying to get killed."
"Flint?" she called, bending her knees so she looked less intimidating—though, really, she wasn't all that intimidating in the first place. "Is that you? Are you alright?" The tail flicked to the left and right slowly, much like a stalking cat's would, and Mabel took that as a good sign. It had to be Flint. She didn't know any other dragons who could say so much without even being capable of speech.
"I've got the ring, just so you know," she lowered her voice, crouching once she reached the rocks. "I don't really want to part with it, but I promised I would, and I keep my promises. If you don't mind, though, I'd like to see your face before I give it to you; I want to make sure it's you."
The tail flicked up, down, left, and then right, before curling and disappearing behind the boulders. Mabel's shoulders slumped with defeat, only to tense when she yelped in shock. Where the tail had been, Flint's face was suddenly inches from hers, his yellow-green eyes twinkling with mischief.
Did I scare you? God, she could practically see the sarcasm.
Holding a hand over her rapidly beating heart, she shot him a heatless glare. "Ha. Ha. Very funny. Does this mean you're alright? I've been worried, you know."
She wasn't sure if it was possible for a dragon, but she could swear Flint's eyes grew apologetic. Sorry. Here. Come see. He twisted around, vanishing once more behind the huge rocks, and she followed, sending Colby a stern Stay put! look when he tried to tag along.
She hadn't been sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn't the sight that greeted her. Nestled on the other side of the rocks was a pile of treasure and dead bodies (most of which had obviously been gnawed on), stacked up like a collection of strange trophies.
"Uh, wow," Mabel licked her suddenly too-dry lips. "That's really . . . lovely, Flint."
He puffed up his chest and cackled, as if to say, I know. It really is.
"So," she coughed awkwardly, trying not to stare at the particularly gruesome leftovers of a gargoyle, "I take it that you're fine, then?"
He licked his lips eagerly. Oh, yes. Perfectly fine. Wonderful, even.
Mabel nodded dumbly, taking a step back. "Okay. I'll leave you to it, then." Sobering, she held out her left hand. "Before I go, do you still want my ring? Remember—I keep my promises."
Tilting his head to the side and regarding her carefully, Flint seemed to be determining whether she was lying. When he was done, he shook his head twice. No, his eyes told her. Keep it. It's yours; I have enough, anyway.
A relieved smiled pulled at Mabel's lips. She hadn't been looking forward to telling Aleron that she'd given up her ring, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't attached to the bauble. "Thanks, Flint. If you ever need anything, there's a spot at the castle for you, alright?"
He bobbed his head in agreement. I will remember. Thank you, puny human.
Mabel rolled her eyes, a shocked laugh being pulled from her throat when he nuzzled her stomach with his large snout. She stroked the space between his nostrils gingerly. "Goodbye, Flint."
He cackled again, but it was more subdued this time, filled with a grief that only occurred when one said goodbye to a dear friend. Feeling tears sting at her eyes, she gave his snout one more pat before turning and ducking away.
Colby waited nearby, but—upon seeing her expression—chose not to say anything.
Perhaps she hadn't been close to the dragon, but Mabel would still miss Flint. After all, they had been through a lot together, and she wouldn't have been able to save Hell if not for him.
Looking back at the boulders, at the scaly tail that flicked up and down, side to side, Mabel managed a weak smile. This freedom was the least Flint deserved, she decided, after being held under Pele's domineering hold for so long.
"Goodbye, Flint."
***
"You really need to wipe your eyes again," Colby suggested as they neared the looming castle.
Mabel sniffled, glaring at him through her continuing tears. She'd tried to keep them at bay (God, it was just a dragon, as Colby kept insisting), but it was no use. A new hole had been made in her heart.
"Why?" she asked finally, keeping her hands firmly by her side, as if to say, I will not do what you want.
Colby sighed, fanning a hand in front of his face as if it would somehow get rid of the sweat that had collected over his body. Mabel wasn't sure why he was worried, though: he had yet to look unattractive, so it really shouldn't have been a concern of his. "Aleron is storming towards us; it's bad enough I'm with you, but if he sees your tears I'll never hear the end of it."
Blinking twice, Mabel followed his wary gaze to see Aleron—sure enough—marching to them, his face stony. "Colby! What have you done?!" he boomed, pulling Mabel into his protective embrace.
Colby crossed his arms and huffed with offense. "Nothing! She's crying cause she's sensitive like that—it's not my fault, I swear." His gaze turned pleading when he looked at Mabel, and she decided to take pity on him.
"It's not his fault," she confirmed, her voice muffled by Aleron's shirt. "I am being sensitive. It also wasn't his idea, but we went to see Flint."
Aleron pulled back, his brow furrowed with confusion. "Flint? The dragon? Why would you be interested in seeking him out, Little One?" his voice wasn't angry, merely curious, and she was thankful for small mercies.
Mabel shrugged meekly. "I wanted to say goodbye," she croaked. "He helped me, Al, and he's really very sweet. When he's not being a jerk, that is. He deserved better than what Pele gave him."
Aleron nodded stiffly, his jaw clenching at the mention of Pele. "Many deserved better than what Pele and the warlocks offered. I will never allow something like this to happen again, Mabel; you can be certain of that."
Managing a crooked grin, Mabel reached up to press a kiss against his cheek. "Thanks, Al. I know you won't."
And he wouldn't, because she knew he beat himself up about it constantly, even though it wasn't his fault. It never was, of course, but that wouldn't stop him from feeling like he'd let her down.
***
When Mabel's phone rang at six the next morning, she almost hurled it through the wall. She'd taken the day off to start thinking about the necessary details regarding her marriage to her favorite demon, and she'd been hoping to sleep in as well.
"So much for that grand idea," she grumbled, spitting some tangled strands of her hair out of her mouth and reaching blindly for the device.
"I will slice that disgusting technology open with my sword if it makes another noise." Aleron's familiar tone snarled from her left, and she shot him an amused grin over her shoulder, admiring how adorable he looked in the plaid pajamas she'd bought and forced him to wear (his normal outfits weren't as comfortable for snuggling).
She blew him a kiss, and then turned and continued fumbling for the phone. Without bothering to look at the caller I.D., she hit the answer button and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Mabsss!" came the slurred voice of Lucy.
Her body tensing, Mabel sat up, her eyes wide. "Lucy? Are you drunk?" She shared a befuddled look with Aleron; why the Hell would Lucy be drunk at six in the morning?
"Yessss," Lucy cheered through a laugh, "Well. Maybe. Where you at, Mabs? You should be here with us, but Zephy," she hiccupped, "said you wouldn't want to join. She was right, I guess."
Letting her head fall into her hand, Mabel blew out a heavy sigh. Of course Zephyrine had somehow managed to get Lucy drunk. Mabel would have thought it impossible, seeing as how Lucy still wasn't talking to Kellan, who hung out with Zephyrine on a regular . . .
Snapping out of bed with a barely contained squeal, Mabel began to pace across her bedroom's carpeted floor, entirely aware of Aleron's burning gaze. "Wait a minute, Lucy. Are you with Zephyrine and Kellan?" Lucy's voice was muffled, as if she'd pulled the phone away from her ear, but a round of raucous feminine laughter was answer enough. Mabel couldn't stop a victorious smile from creeping across her lips.
Who knew Zephyrine could be helpful every once in a while?
"Lucy?" Mabel called again, "Are you there?"
"You betcha!" Came Lucy's shouted answer; Mabel pulled the phone back with a cringe, her ears ringing.
"Okay, great. Can I speak to Zephyrine, please?"
"Zeph-y!" Lucy sang, "Mabs wants to talk to y-o-u!"
There was a scuffle, a female squeal belonging to Kellan, and then Zephyrine greeted crisply, "This is Zephyrine, problem solver extraordinaire. You owe me three new pairs of heels."
Mabel rolled her eyes fondly. "As if. Get Colby to buy them for you. Now, what did you do?"
Zephryine's familiar sigh—the one that said Isn't it obvious?—crackled over the line. "Brought alcohol. Duh." A beat of silence, and then, "I told them they needed to talk if they wanted to stop you from stressing, then casually brought out tequila. That is all you need to know."
Mabel considered this for a moment, and then decided, "Yeah, you're probably right."
"I'm always right," came Zephyrine's immediate reply.
Chuckling, Mabel shook her head with amusement. "Sure. But, Zephyrine? Thanks."
Another round of silence, and then, "You're welcome, Mabel."
***
A/N: *gasps*
Zephy has a heart? Well, I'll be darned . . .
And the countdown to the end begins:
5 . . .
A.R.