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Sam stared at Raindu, and the ferret stared back at Sam. “Hand it over,” Sam said, causing Raindu to shake its furry head. A sigh escaped from Sam’s mouth, and he turned to look at Wendy. Although her facial features were obscured thanks to the lack of sunlight, the moonlight was enough to illuminate her stone-cold expression.
“Why are you looking at me?” Wendy asked. She was bundled up, the wind pressing against the layers of her clothes, but she remained unmoving despite how fast the giant dragonfly was flying. “I’m driving. If you think I have time to help you train your ferret, you’re mistaken.”
Sam sighed before turning his attention back onto the black ferret. It had taken a while for Sam to read through the whole dog-training book, and it wasn’t because he was a slow reader. He had to fight the wind to read the pages, and he had to fight Raindu, who’d get bored and tug on the book to draw a reaction out of Sam. When he tried to implement the techniques he learned from the book, he hit a wall right out the gate: he was supposed to reward Raindu with treats, but the ferret was the only one who could access the treats, and it wasn’t willing to hand over the bag for training purposes.
Sam frowned at Raindu, and the ferret took a few steps forward. It brought its front paws up to Sam’s face and pressed on his cheeks, turning his frown into a smile.
“Stop that,” Sam said, pushing Raindu’s legs away with his fingers. “I know you can understand me. Why won’t you work with me?”
Raindu crossed its front legs over its chest as it stood upright. Why did Raindu have to obey Sam? Why didn’t it work the other way around?
“You’re an animal,” Sam said. Before he could say anything else, Raindu chattered at him.
Sam frowned. “I’m not an animal. I’m a human.”
“Humans are animals,” Wendy said. Although she was incapable of training the ferret thanks to her position as driver, evidently, driving a giant dragonfly wasn’t difficult to the point of making her unable to back Raindu up when it needed help making a point.
Sam ignored Wendy’s comment. “In human society, I’m the one who gets into trouble for the things you do,” he said to Raindu. “That’s why you have to listen to me. If we ever enter ferret society, and you get into trouble for the things I do, then I’ll obey you.”
Raindu’s snout wrinkled, and the ferret chattered before shaking its head.
“What did he say?” Wendy asked.
“He says we’re entering reptilian society, so my argument is moot,” Sam said.
Wendy nodded. “He has a point,” she said and reached up to her nose. She picked out a cotton ball soaked in blood and tossed it aside before replacing it with a clean one. “Alright. Raindu, how about this? We’ll take Sam’s reward of five hundred million points and split it in half. Once you two complete the mission, you’ll get half, and Sam will get half, sound fair?”
Raindu’s eyes lit up, and it bobbed its head up and down. Sam’s jaw dropped, but before he could say anything, Raindu put its paw underneath his chin and pushed upwards, closing Sam’s mouth for him. The ferret looked up at Sam, its expression saying, “Think before you speak.”
Sam frowned as Raindu withdrew its paw. Although half of his reward had been taken away, wasn’t it worth it? Raindu would cooperate, and everyone would be happy. He wouldn’t have to buy things for Raindu since the ferret would have its own money to buy what it wanted. “Yeah,” Sam said, nodding at Wendy. “It sounds fair.”
Wendy nodded. “Great,” she said. “Just so you know, if Raindu does happen to do something to Monarch’s detriment, Monarch won’t be blaming him; after all, since your talent manifested Raindu, you’re the legal entity we have to sue.”
Sam’s expression darkened as he stared down at the ferret. Raindu gained the motivation to complete the mission properly. However, it still needed to be taught how to behave, but how was he going to do that when the ferret saw him as an equal?
“Think of yourself as Raindu’s babysitter or caretaker,” Wendy said upon seeing Sam’s expression. “You’re being paid two hundred fifty million credits to take care of Her Majesty’s weapon. Isn’t that a good deal? People have killed for far less.”
“I guess so,” Sam said and exhaled before lying down, staring up at the moon. He had heard rumors about the celestial object: it was inhabited by intelligent mantids living underneath the surface. Sam turned his head towards Wendy, putting off Raindu’s training because procrastination was Sam’s best friend. “Do you think the mantids always lived on the moon? Even before the cataclysm?”
Wendy shrugged. “The answer changes depending on who you ask,” she said before staring directly at Sam, making eye contact with him. “Do you think I’m over three hundred years old? Why would I know?”
Sam’s brow furrowed. “What about Her Majesty?”
“What about her?” Wendy asked. “Are the rumors true? Yes. She’s one of the original awakeners who survived the cataclysm.”
Sam pursed his lips. “This might be a bit rude to ask, but how old are you?”
“Knows it’s rude, asks anyway, typical boor,” Wendy muttered loud enough for Sam to hear. She spoke in a regular voice next. “I’m forty-seven.”
Sam blinked; that wasn’t the response he was expecting. Some awakeners had natural talents that allowed them to age slower or live longer, but Wendy’s natural talent seemed more likely to give her anemia than longevity. Despite that, she looked like she was twenty-something. Well, Wendy did say Monarch was at the forefront of biotechnology or something along those lines; maybe she had cosmetic surgery.
Wendy’s eyes narrowed at Sam. “I’m half reptilian.”
Sam blinked even harder than before. He stared at the woman with diamond-shaped pupils, and everything suddenly made sense. It was no wonder why he was terrified of her the first time he met her; her eyes were those of a species that preyed on humans. Sam scratched his head. “Oh. How, uh, does that work?”
“My mom is a reptilian,” Wendy said. “My dad was a very adventurous awakener.”
“Was?”
“Yeah,” Wendy said. “He’s dead now. The last thing he left me was a half-human, half-mantid half-sister.”
“Oh,” Sam said, maintaining a neutral expression. “I see. Uh, sorry for your loss.”
Wendy shook her head. “I never actually met him,” she said before shrugging, “so it’s not like I lost anything when he was eaten.”
Sam blinked. Eaten? “Oh! Because mantids—”
“Yes,” Wendy said. “Exactly.”
Raindu stood up and chattered. Sam’s mouth twitched, and Wendy narrowed her eyes at him. “Translate,” she said, her tone accepting no compromise.
Sam stared at Raindu, and the ferret gestured for him to go on. Sam bit his lower lip and glanced up at Wendy. “He said—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Sam swallowed. “He said”—Sam turned his head away and lowered his voice to a mumble—“at least your father died doing what he loved.”
Wendy’s lips curved upwards as her eyes narrowed, but her countenance returned to normal by the time Sam mustered up enough courage to examine her expression. She said with a straight face, “As I’ve stated before, awakeners face death on a daily basis. Good observation, Raindu.”
Raindu nodded and pulled a lollipop out of its fur, treating itself for a job well done.
“See?” Wendy asked Sam. “That’s how you train him—with praise.”
“Of, of course,” Sam said after a second and nodded. He scratched his head before looking at Raindu. “Do something neat, so I can praise you.”
Raindu put away the lollipop it was eating and pulled out another piece of candy. It held it up towards Sam’s face and walked in a slow circle around him on its hindlegs. Sam had to turn his body around to follow the ferret’s movements. When he spun all the way around, Raindu placed the piece of candy onto Sam’s lap and clapped its front legs together.
Sam’s eye twitched. Wasn’t that the method to teach a dog to spin in a circle? It was in the training book for dummies. “Ha-ha, very funny,” Sam said. He picked up the piece of candy and returned it to the ferret, but Raindu pushed it back towards Sam, insisting he should have it. Sam ignored the ferret, letting the candy drop to the giant dragonfly’s back. He cleared his throat. “So, what’s it like being half reptilian?”
Wendy shrugged. “It’s all I’ve ever known,” she said, watching as Raindu stamped its feet to get Sam’s attention. “Reptilians don’t look at me kindly, but they don’t see me as food. On the other hand, humans fear me. Overall, I’d say there aren’t many downsides to being half reptilian.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. He found it hard to disagree with Wendy’s judgement. After all, it certainly sounded better than living as a talentless. Who wouldn’t want to be the intimidating instead of the intimidated? “You’ve been to Et Serpentium before?” he asked, ignoring the ferret pulling at his pants.
“I was born there,” Wendy said. She blinked when Raindu retrieved a pair of boxers from Sam’s body, and she glanced at Sam’s face to see his expression. Her upper lip curled upwards, baring her teeth, as her nose wrinkled when she saw Sam’s countenance shift to one of relief—like he was more comfortable now than before. Then, his gaze shifted to horror as he glanced down at the garments in Raindu’s paws. The ferret released the garments, and Sam scrambled to grab them before they were lost forever to the spectral jungle. He caught his boxers and glared at Raindu; in response, the ferret clapped its front legs and threw a piece of candy at him.
“Stop it,” Sam said, catching the candy before it could fall off the dragonfly. Although it was just one piece of candy, it’d still be a waste if it fell over. Sam stored the sweet in his pocket and turned his attention onto Wendy, boxers still in his hands. “Do you have any tips or tricks to surviving in Et Serpentium?”
“Tamara will help you with that,” Wendy said before staring past Sam. All that could be seen was the night sky and clouds. “However, if I were you, I wouldn’t make eye contact with any reptilian; keep your head down, and if a reptilian orders you around, obey them unconditionally.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Sam said and scratched his head. Was that all? Being an awakener pet in Reptile Land didn’t sound that different from being a talentless in the city. “Anything else?”
“Listen to Tamara,” Wendy said. “I’d even go so far as to say follow her instructions blindly. As I said before, she’s completed a lot of missions for Monarch. She has an immense amount of experience. Some things she tells you to do may not make sense to you, but that’s because you’re not as well-informed of dangerous pitfalls as she is.”
Sam blinked. “Not make sense to me?” he asked. “Like gibberish or…?”
“For example,” Wendy said, gesturing towards herself. “Pretend I’m Tamara. I’ll tell you to do something that doesn’t make sense to you, and you’ll do it.”
“Alright…,” Sam said, playing along.
Wendy gestured with her head towards the side of the giant dragonfly’s back. “Jump off.”
Sam blinked as Wendy stood up and walked over to the edge of the giant dragonfly. She turned to look at him before turning her attention towards the dark canopy below. Then, she jumped, causing Sam’s and Raindu’s eyes to widen as they exchanged glances with one another. Sam crawled towards the edge of the dragonfly to peer over the side. Once he got there, a force shoved him from behind, causing Sam to scream and fall over. The wind rushed against his face, and he spread his arms and legs. A chill ran up his spine from his root chakra, and his arms jerked against his will, flapping as if they were wings. To Sam’s surprise, with every flap of his arms, his descent slowed. It didn’t slow him enough to prevent him from crashing into the canopy, but it slowed him enough for the webs between the branches and leaves to break his fall.
Sam gasped for breath as he sat up. To his surprise, the webs weren’t sticky, but they sunk deeply thanks to his weight like a hammock tasked with the mission of carrying a heavy-set person. A fluttering object approached from the sky and struck Sam’s stomach; it was Raindu, the culprit who had shoved him off the dragonfly. “You crazy—!”
Raindu pressed its paw against Sam’s lips, shutting him up with the taste of its fur—which was sweet. Before he could protest, a swishing sound cut through the air, and the giant dragonfly overhead was struck by what looked like a ballista bolt. It let out a screeching drone as it plummeted to the ground, breaking the strands of webbing in the canopy. The impact launched Sam into the air, and he screamed as he fell to the ground, breaking branches as he tumbled before landing hard on his tailbone with a thump. His face contorted as he rolled onto his back, the pain from his butt radiating through his whole body. He gritted his teeth as tears sprang into his eyes, blurring his vision; however, there was nothing interfering with his sense of hearing.
Hissing and slithering sounds filled the area, and a sense of dread welled up in the pit of Sam’s stomach. He shut his mouth, and despite the pain, he forced himself to stay silent. The hisses and slithering sounds continued, intermittently as if two people were having a conversation. A crunch echoed through the spectral jungle, and with the help of the moonlight, Sam saw scaled legs come into view from within the shadows cast by the tree he had fallen from.
Two reptilians stepped over Sam, observing him like hunters inspecting an injured deer that had stopped to rest. They were tall, but then again, all reptilians were tall. Sam just hadn’t realized it because Tamara had been seated the whole time when he had met her. The two reptilians easily stood over seven feet tall. They were both dark-purple, and their eyes had golden irises with slit, silver pupils. The two reptilians exchanged glances with each other, hissing out a conversation.
For some reason, Sam understood their communication. Perhaps it was because of the way they were looking at him while standing over him.
“Why would I know?” the reptilian asked. “Maybe it was a to-go dinner.”
The reptilian’s companion blinked. “Did we shoot down a trained surdock?”
“We?” the first reptilian asked. “No. It was you.”
The second reptilian fell silent. After a bit, it asked, “Do you think anyone saw?”
“Maybe,” the first reptilian said. “But it’s not your fault. Why didn’t it have a collar? If it had one, you would’ve left it alone.”
“I would’ve,” the second reptilian said. It gestured towards Sam. “What should we do about this?”
“It’d be a shame if it goes to waste,” the first reptilian said, its silver pupils staring Sam straight in the eyes. “Let’s eat it.”
“I’m not a barbarian,” the second reptilian said and placed its hand in its bag. It was naked save for the belt wrapped around its waist where the bag was attached, but there was nothing improper to see; the reptilian was smooth and scaled like a snake’s belly. “I don’t want to eat it raw.”
“It’s inconvenient to cook it here,” the first reptilian said as it watched the second reptilian retrieve a metallic device in the shape of a cube. “Why don’t we slaughter it and take the best parts back with us?”
The second reptilian frowned before putting the cube back in its bag. “I only brought my surdock-butchering set, not my human one.”
Sam gulped as he stared up at the two reptilians. They didn’t look armed, but they seemed to be the ones responsible for shooting down the giant dragonfly. Where did Wendy go? Maybe she was waiting for a chance to ambush the two reptilians while he distracted them, killing them in one strike?
“Hey!”
The two reptilians flinched and whipped their heads to the side. Crunching sounds rang out as Wendy’s bundled-up figure came into Sam’s view, making her way towards the reptilians and Sam.
“Who are you?” both reptilians asked at the same time.
“Who am I?” Wendy asked, stomping on the ground and causing it to shake as she walked right up to the reptilians. She pointed up at their faces, her pointer finger switching from one reptilian to the other. “Who are you? I might only be half-reptilian, but I still have rights.” She pointed at Sam. “You damaged my merchandise, shot down my means of transportation—one I spent years training, mind you—and you have the audacity to ask who I am? You owe me a flying vehicle!” She whipped out a notebook from within her many layers. “Who’s your insurance provider?” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re hunting without a license.”
The two dark-purple reptilians exchanged glances with one another. Their tongues flickered as they stared at each other, their eyes occasionally blinking, their pupils widening and shrinking as if they were holding a silent conversation.
“Don’t just lovingly stare at each other,” Wendy said, slapping her pen against her notebook page. “I know your parents taught you better. Take responsibility for your actions.”
The two reptilians turned to look at Wendy. “I apologize for shooting down your surdock,” the second reptilian said, “but you really should’ve placed a collar on it. You’re partially responsible for this as well.”
“The two of you should call it even,” the first reptilian said. “Your surdock might’ve been shot down, but you weren’t flying it according to protocol.”
“Oh?” Wendy asked. “And what protocol is this? You’re spouting off things you know nothing about.” Her eyes narrowed. “How old are you? Do your parents know you’re hunting without a license? They could get in serious trouble because of your actions.”
The second reptilian bumped the first reptilian with its elbow. “I have an idea.”
The first reptilian blinked. “What?”
“Run!”
Before Sam realized what was happening, the two reptilians scattered, splitting up to bolt in different directions, disappearing from Sam’s view. He blinked and sat up; he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Wendy raised a finger to her lips.
Wendy kicked at the ground, sending debris in Sam’s direction. “Get up,” she said. “Don’t think you’re free just because a little accident occurred.” She winked at Sam, sending chills down his spine. “We’re marching to where the surdock fell; on your feet, human.”
Sam stood up and swallowed. They had gone deep enough into the spectral jungle where they were closer to Et Serpentium than the human cities. It was still night and dark as heck, and Sam did not want to make the remainder of the journey on the ground. Unfortunately, unless they bumped into another giant dragonfly—or surdock, as the reptilians called them—it seemed like trekking at night while pretending he was a human captured by Wendy was what he had to do.